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It’s been five years since the end of the war. On the Capital, there’s a celebration, a parade, a squadron of X-Wings flying across the sky to celebrate the victory. Those who contributed the most avoid the accolades. The price had been too high; the victory was bittersweet. Instead, a crowd gathers at a homestead on Yavin IV. A tract of land with a house and hangar that usually feels far too large now is far too cramped with the people that had come for the party.
Rey stands alone in the garden. Their New-New-Republic, with its high strung officials always demanding her attention, the well-wishers, the admirers, and an unceasing, irritating press, overwhelms her. Perhaps fighting and leading in the Resistance should have prepared her for such a life, but it is a life she never wanted, didn’t ask for. Even amongst her friends, her family, she still feels isolated, like the last snowflake to fall when spring comes. One hand rests on the gnarled bark of the great tree that grows out behind the Dameron home, the other rubs across the swell of her stomach. She whispers quietly, speaking of those who had gone before, telling them she misses them. They all miss them.
There is a tugging on her skirt, little hands reaching towards her covered in dirt and something sticky. Rey crouches down and smiles at the boy. He’s nearly five, born after his father died, but he has his father’s curls and wide nose and even his name. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a cloth, wiping his hands and face. The boy squirms and pulls away, but she pokes him in the belly and drags out of him several giggles. He wraps his arms around her and she hoists him up, almost too big to be carried around, not to mention the other child she’s constantly carrying.
“Are you talking to Papa?” he asks as he rests his head on her shoulder.
“And Uncle Han and Aunt Leia and Uncle Luke and your Nana.”
“I miss them,” the boy sighs.
He’d never met them, any of them. Perhaps he feels what they all feel, the hole that each one had left in the people still living. Rey takes a breath and tries to shove away the melancholy of the day. She tries to find the silver lining, tries to show the boy that they have every reason in the world to be happy. “I hear Pop is making bread pudding and ice cream?”
He nearly smiles at the prospect of dessert, but sticks out his lower lip and pouts. “Says we have to eat supper first.”
“A very good idea.” Rey finds her smile and presses her lips to the boy’s forehead before carrying him back up towards the house and the crowd.
Kes Dameron stands at the grill wearing an apron declaring that he is the “best grandfather in the galaxy.” There are a few others crowding around him, offering help, but the old man refuses them all. He is apparently the master of this domain and no one was going to take it from him. The only person he lets help, whom he probably shouldn’t, is his grandson. The boy clambers down out of Rey’s arms and rushes over towards Kes, his hands sticking upward to be picked up. Kes laughs and scoops the boy into his arms, giving him a pair of tongs to flip the steaks over. He doesn’t care when one slides off the grill and lands in the grass, though Bastian standing nearby groans loudly. Kes takes the boy’s hand and tries to help him, but he wants to do it on his own and a stick of roasting vegetables joins the steak on the ground.
“Okay, little man, let’s give Pop some room to finish because I am starving .” The boy is handed off again, this time to Finn, who swings him around and hangs him upside down until he’s laughing so hard he’s hiccuping.
Rey smiles again, this time not forced. There’s something about the way Finn holds Poe’s son, loves him as if he were his own, that makes Rey’s heart swell larger than she ever thought it could be. What had been gained could never replace what had been lost. The love she has for Finn exists alongside what she felt for Poe--it gives her hope. Again her hand rubs across her stomach, feeling the press of bony little knees pushing against the confined space.
Kaydel grabs her hand and pulls her into a chair, pours her a glass of water, talks animatedly about something new they’re building on the Capital. Rey nods along, feigning interest as best she can. Jess shows up, thankfully, and engages with Kaydel, rescuing Rey from a social interaction that will no doubt skew towards politics and what Rey’s plans are. Would she teach? Pass on what little knowledge Luke had time to give her? Take a position in the Republic? Or a position in the military, like the Jedi Generals of old? Rey isn’t sure if she wants any of those things. The war ended five years ago, but it feels like the fight is unceasing. It is a different sort of fight now, not one with lightsabers or starfighters, but one that somehow is even more taxing.
Selfishly, this is what Rey wants. She wants to sit here under a warm summer sun, smell the grass and the trees, and watch as the boy that belongs to the three of them grows. Wants to welcome the little girl growing inside her into a world not shattered by loss, fix all of the things she had done wrong in Poe’s infancy. She wonders if she can have it. Wonders if she asks the galaxy to just leave her alone, will it? Some days, she longs for the isolation of Jakku. Not the loneliness, just the quiet, the freedom. No, she’d never go back to that solitude, never let go of the family she had found, the one she had made.
Finn plops two plates down in front of her. One is covered in a bit of everything. The other is mostly just cheesy noodles, a small piece of tip yip, and a large roll. He pushes the plate with everything on it in front of her and then wrestles a squirmy little boy into his seat and drags the second plate just in front of him. Finn disappears again, but comes back with another full plate of his own and slides into the seat next to Rey. His hand finds hers under the table and he leans over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I love you,” he whispers and smiles.
Rey smiles back and nods. She knows, she can feel it, she knows he can feel her even if she can’t always say it. Once everyone has taken a seat at the several folding tables set up for their anniversary picnic, before they can all dive into the food, Rey stands and clears her throat. Finn assists, whistling loudly at the loud and lively bunch to settle down.
Rey swallows and licks her lips. She usually declines to say a few words on days like today. She prefers to remember the fallen in her own way, prefers to hold her memories close, hoards them like a scavenger. But these are her friends, Finn’s friends, Poe’s friends. They deserve to share in all of their memories, all of their love.
“Thank you, Leia and Han, for giving me such strength. Without you, I don’t think I would have been brave enough for the journey you set me on. Thank you, Master Luke, for all that you taught me. Not just about the Force, but about family, about the strength and hope we draw from those that we love.” It is the most words she has strung together in front of people in, well, ever. She pauses for a second to take another breath, and then continues, “Thank you to all of you for all that you did then, and all that you are continuing to do.
“Thank you, Poe. Without your sacrifice none of us would be here. You were the best of us, and you damn well knew it, too.” There is a smattering of chuckles and cheers and knowing nods. “Know that your light continues on in your son.” Her voice cracks slightly as she glances down at their boy, who could never sit still for anything, but is sitting calmly, watching his mother, the spitting image of his father.
“And to my dear Finn.” Rey turns to her other side and again takes his hand in hers. “My first friend, the one who pulled me out of my shell and showed me the stars. The one who always came back for me, who never gave up. You are the true hero of our story, and…” Another breath, anxious, but ready take a step forward. “If you aren’t my husband by the time this baby comes…”
Finn’s mouth hangs open slightly and his eyes widen in shock mixed with elation. “Is that--is that a yes?”
He asked her months ago, when she had first fallen pregnant, and she never gave him an answer. Poe had asked, she had said yes, he had died. She loves Finn, loves all four of them so much, and is so afraid to lose another member of her family. Rey knows she has to stop being afraid. She didn’t let fear control her when other people’s lives were on the line, when her friends, the Resistance, the galaxy had needed her. She won’t let fear control her right to be happy.
“Yes.” She smiles, broad and true, her eyes squinting into slits, her mouth widening showing off large, white teeth.
Finn whoops and laughs and knocks his chair over as he stands up and wraps his arms around her. He lifts her off the ground and tries to spin her around, but there is table full of food and chairs in their way. Little Poe is on his feet on his chair, squealing and clapping his hands. Whether or not he really understands what’s happening, Rey isn’t sure. And then everyone is standing and clapping and cheering.
Kes rushes over and pulls her away from Finn for a moment and into a crushing hug. He’s kissing her hair and whispering how happy he is for them. Rey can feel his tears as their cheeks press together and she can’t help but feel guilty. He tells her not to, that Poe would be so happy for them, but she can’t help it. Kes has absorbed Rey and Finn into his family, no chance for an objection from either one of them, it just happened. Again, he offers for them to stay on Yavin with him, practically begs her, and the underlying request is clear. Please don’t take that baby boy away from me.
With the elation of the moment, Rey nearly says yes. Nearly tosses away all the indecisions of her life as this heroic figure. Nearly chooses what she wants, instead of what other people think she should do. She tells Kes, “I’ll think about it.” And she will. For now, it’s enough of a promise to hope.
The sun goes down and the party thins out. A few stay behind to help clean up, but most go back into town or onto their ships, return to their lives. Kes lifts his sleeping grandson out of Finn’s arms and carries him inside, leaving the happy couple alone under the stars. Rey stands and takes the seat vacated by her son, her arms draping around Finn’s shoulders. The corner of his lips quirk up again and she swears they have got to be sore from smiling so much. He kisses her slow and tender and she can still taste the sweet bread pudding and wine on his lips.
“What if we stayed here?”
“What? A few more days? I’m sure that’d be fine.” His lips drift across her jaw and he nuzzles into her neck.
“Forever?” She sounds hopeful, wanting him to not think it’s such a crazy idea. While Rey is uncomfortable in the position their leaders put her in, Finn excels. He’s smart and charismatic and everyone looks up to him, appreciates his ideas, his experience, his natural leadership. Rey doesn’t want to be The Jedi, but Finn is a natural Commander. She wouldn’t want to take that away from him.
“I will follow you anywhere. I thought you’d know that by now.” He pulls away slightly, his hand finds hers and holds it close between them. “Take my hand, pull me anywhere in the galaxy, and I will go. I’m never going to leave, Rey.”
“You’re wonderful, you know that?” She doesn’t deserve him, but she won’t tell him that. He’d never let her believe that about herself. So she just kisses him, ardent and thankful, basking in the love that he carries for her, whole and pure. “I love you, Finn.”