Chapter Text
Preface
“Checkmate!”
As her holographic queen caught the computer’s king, Jaina giggled. Hacking coughs broke through her joy. She breathed in deeply, loudly, with her mouth. In... Out. Her nose was still clogged up by this wretched cold. A knock sounded at the door. Mama came in, all lovely smiles as always, carrying a bowl of bone broth she carefully sat down on the bed table. A cool hand pressed against Jaina’s forehead.
“You’re feeling better.”
“A bit?”
“Good. Because your Grandpa is here.”
Jaina jumped up. “Really?” She pressed her nose to the glass of her bedroom pod - which she’d decorated herself, thank you very much! - and looked out over to the breathtaking view of Naboo’s greens and blues, as seen from outer space. “Can we go piloting together, then?” Jaina shot a look at her mother. “Please, please, please, pleeeaaase?”
Mama’s smile shifted. Jaina slumped down on her pillows. Disgusted.
“I’m still too sick, aren’t I?”
“You know it, my little pilot. Come on, sit up. Grandpa wants to tell you a story.”
“A story? From when he was younger?”
“Not quite,” cut in Grandpa, popping his head in the doorway. “I’ve brought you a little something I think you’ll like. A book.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Thus, Mama and Grandpa switched places. His chair screeched on the warmed-up metallic floor and her silhouette leaned in the doorway. She disappeared a moment later. With a woosh! the door closed in horizontally. Grandpa flipped holographic pages trapped inside a glowing spine between his fingers. Jaina wrinkled her nose.
“So you weren’t joking when you talked about a book.”
“That’s right! I know you’re a fan of the HoloNet, but this is a book my father used to read to me when I was sick. And today, I’ll read it to you.”
Jaina pushed down her skepticism and nodded.
“Does it have pilots in it?”
“You mean people who travel the world far and wide? Are you kidding! Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, miracles. All set in the lovely world of old-fashioned fairy tales.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” she quipped with a cheeky grin. “I’ll try to stay awake.”
Grandpa winked. “Thank you very much.”
He flipped to the first page and pulled out his glasses.
“Ah, there we are,” Grandpa said, pulling on his debonair smile. “ The Prince’s Bride. By G. Lucas. Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away… ”
Chapter One
Finn was born to House Parnelli of Naboo, one of the main noble families, in the capital city of Theed. While beautiful, dome-covered Theed was, to Finn as a child, stuffy and mostly remembered for endless lessons and boring tutors.
“Well, that I can relate to,” said Jaina, rolling her eyes.
“Right, right. Now, shush. Let me continue.”
At the very end of spring, Theed would become too hot and too crowded with tourists, so his mothers would move on Finn’s birthday from their home in the capital to their summer estate in the Lake Country. That was when the fun began. Breezy days were spent Guarlara riding while evenings flew by playing games of cards. On the last day of such a summer when he was fourteen years old, Finn escaped from his suitcase packing to the beach, dreaming of the sound of waves crashing against the shore. Blue water glistened with white foam in the sun. Finn jumped from rock to rock, arms stretched out around him.
He almost slipped when he saw her.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer. The girl, a girl around his age, covered in rags and salt water, was lying upon a half-overturned raft. A thin ribbon of blood dripped into the lake from a wound on the side of her head. Still, the wound wasn’t the part that worried Finn the most. One corner of the wooden raft had caught between two pointed rocks. Water lapped at her feet. Then, what Finn had feared the most happened. The girl fell, slowly, in slow motion, in the water. In the deepest part at the far edge of the shore.
“Wait! Hold up!”
Finn’s heart hammered in his chest. On the slippery rocks, it took him longer than he’d hoped for to reach the spot she’d disappeared in. Finn jumped in after her. He caught the girl somewhere between the surface and the rock bottom. Once her head was out of the water, he swam until his feet touched ground and he carried her to shore. One look at her pulse was negative. The girl wasn’t breathing.
Crossing his hands on her chest, he pushed. One, two, three. Mouth-to-mouth. Push. One, two, three. Nothing. Nothing at all.
“Come on! Wake up!” He looked up and hoped the guards he’d managed to slip away from could hear him. “Help! Somebody, come help!” Looking down at the girl again, he said: “I’m not leaving until you wake up. Come on, miss! Wake up!”
Mouth-to-mouth. Push. One, two, three. Mouth-to-mouth. Push. One, two, three.
Her eyes opened wide and she spat out lake water.
“Thank the Force! You’re awake. Are you okay?”
She looked at him strangely, critically, as if he’d been the first person ever to ask her that question. Yet, she did not give him an answer.
“Lord Finn!”
The guards appeared, climbing the hill overlooking the shoreline.
Not long after, she was taken to the estate’s infirmary while Finn was sent to finish his packing until they knew more about the wounded, half-drowned girl. He obliged, not without some grumbling. Mama appeared at the doorway with a polite smile on her face.
“How is she?” asked Finn without missing a beat.
“She’s fine, but she barely talks. She doesn’t want to talk to us, anyway.”
“I wonder why. Who is she? Why was she there? What-”
“She doesn’t remember anything. But there must be a story there.”
The girl only remembered a name: Rey. No one knew from whence she came from, least of all herself. Some theorized that, somehow, Rey’s raft had found itself travelling from the seas and into the Lake Country through the tunnels that ran under the kingdom, built by its water-based inhabitants, the Gungans. In any case, speculating wouldn’t explain why Rey had ended up on the open sea in such a rickety vessel. A humble family from the village, the Lars, took her in, and with that, Finn left the summer estate for the city.
Every year after that, during the summer, he’d come to see Rey. Finn became more and more fascinated by her. He’d often see her laugh while walking around the village with her friends, or reading stories to the children gathered around her as she sat upon the main plaza’s fountain. Yet, whenever she’d be near a member of the noble family, Rey would grow quiet. Reserved. Shy, even. So unlike her true self.
Rey never talked to Finn, except for when he asked her to do something. Which happened increasingly more often. Indeed, the year they both turned sixteen (as the date of her birthday was unknown, it became the day Finn found her on the beach, with Rey’s approval), Rey was hired as a stable girl at the estate. Every day he’d make up excuses to see her, to watch her work, and to ask her to do anything that crossed his mind.
So he asked. And asked and asked and asked. Selfishly. But not without purpose. There was a part of Finn that wanted to shake her out of her quiet self.
“Rey?” he said upon coming home from a ride.
Rey looked up from her work, washing out the stables.
“Polish my Guarlara’s saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.”
“As you wish.”
As you wish. That was all she ever said to him.
Upon returning to Theed that year, Mother was elected Queen Vadessa of Naboo. She would, in time, become the longest reigning Queen of that kingdom, beloved and respected. A kind and caring ruler. But in the meantime, such a prestigious title meant their whole lives changed and their summers in the Lake Country became shorter and shorter. Soon enough, the newly-titled Prince Finn couldn’t see Rey at all anymore. As a dutiful son, he followed the rules, went to his lessons without fail, learned politics, history, dancing, painting, fencing… He even went to balls where suitors were thrown at him. Charming men, elegant women and fantastic people of all genders. They were enchanting perhaps, but none matched this connection he felt with her. And he had a suspicion his mothers knew so. Some noble ladies, those from the House of Naberrie, looked enticingly like Rey.
Balls, lessons, ceremonies, sitting at peace treaties, waving at the crowds during endless parades… Finn did all that was required of him. But as the months and years crawled by, especially around those late spring days, he’d grow melancholic, staring out the windows. For two years, he did so. Until the third year, the one Finn (and, incidentally, Rey) turned nineteen. Mama decided enough was enough. They needed a breath of fresh air.
Finn ran to the stables as soon as his suitcase was put away.
“Rey?”
Of course he found her there, amidst the smelly Gualaras and the tools. His throat closed up when his eyes landed on her. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even give him a single look, as usual. Though he could see her knuckles tightening around the straw she’d been twisting into a rope. He looked around, remembering those summers not so long ago when he’d bossed her around and she’d say those words. Those three words. Thinking quickly, Finn grabbed a bucket and dropped it in front of her.
“Fill this with water.”
She looked up from her work. She didn’t say it. Not yet, at least. The Force be with him, he wanted her to say it. To just… talk to him.
He added, swallowing: “Please?”
A small smile grew at the corner of her mouth.
He definitely was not staring.
“As you wish.”
That day, he was amazed to discover that when she was saying “as you wish”, what she meant was, “I love you.” And even more amazing was the day he realized he truly loved her back. It took him a whole, an entire week to become bold enough - after a lot of “subtle” encouragement from his grinning mothers - to leave her a message. A message that would, eventually, lead her somewhere else. Away from the stables. On the same beach where he’d found her five years ago. Finn expected some amount of surprise coming from her, but she didn’t offer any more reaction than her usual, mostly stoic half-smile.
They stared at each other.
For a while.
“Rey?”
She blinked. Well, that was more than nothing.
Finn looked around, in desperate need of an idea. He picked up a rock at his feet and dropped it in the lake. A rather pitiful splash echoed.
“Get me that rock. Please.”
At that, Rey smiled. A real smile, showing all her teeth. Cheesy as it may sound, Finn’s heart did a little jump. She walked past him. Grabbed the rock. Mechanically. A well-rehearsed dance. Eyes gleaming, she offered it to him.
“As you wish,” she said, somewhere between a chuckle and a laugh. Her shoulders slumped down. Rey swallowed. “Your Highness.”
Finn took the rock with shaking fingers. She’d said… she’d said…!
“I...” He racked his brains. “I… huh… didn’t exactly call you here to ask you to give me a wet rock. I’m sorry if I bothered you or you were busy, or I…!”
“ Finn. ”
His blood rushed to his ears. Had his heart stopped? Surely it had.
“Yes?”
“You told me in that message to come when I am not busy.”
“I know, but… still.”
“You never bother me.”
“I don’t?”
Rey took the rock from his slack hand, flicked her wrist and threw it back into the lake. It skipped three times before dropping under the surface with a splash!
“No, not at all.”
Finn pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her, breathing in the smell of shoe polish clinging to her neck. Before long, she hugged him back. They stood there a while. Listening to the waves crashing on the shore. Finn pushed back slightly, hands on her hips. Before he knew what was happening, his face was getting closer to hers.
Closer and closer and closer and...
“Please, say that again,” whispered Finn.
Rey blinked. “Say what? That you don’t bother me?” It seemed that as soon as she started to talk, the words she’d clutched onto for years left her mouth in a flood. “You don’t! I’m sorry. I’ve been a jerk all these years, I’m terrible at communication. But… But I… And… And everyone kept telling me not to get close to the Lord - then the Prince! - because I’d get my heart broken and I’m so sorry I listened, but I really like you and I like the way you laugh and smile and you’re sweet with everyone and-”
“Rey.”
“Yes?”
“I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Hm, hm. But that’s not what I was asking earlier. My name. Say it again. Please.”
Rey’s smile could have lit twin setting suns in the sky.
“Finn.”
He kissed her, hands tangling with her hair as hers wrapped around his neck. They...
“Grandpa!”
Grandpa jumped and almost dropped the book. “What?”
Jaina crossed her arms over her tiny chest. “When does it get good? Where’s the action? Where are the giants and all that stuff you promised me? This is a kissing book!”
“Yes? A little bit. Don’t worry about that, I won’t dwell on it.”
“Good. Continue.”
Grandpa flipped a page over.
“Since when?” asked Rey, breathless, as she pulled away.
“What?”
“Since when? You… you like me, I think?”
“Oh. Yes! I do!”
Finn’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth. Still, he pushed on:
“Since the day I met you, I think. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”
“You didn’t? But I’m the one who only said ‘as you wish’ to you for five years!”
“Well, let’s just say, I haven’t been very good at communicating, either! I was bossing you around all the time! Give me this, give me that. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
The both of them grinned until they laughed. Awkwardly, but truthfully. A few years of miscommunication were washed away by this laugh, sand upon the shore.
“Look at us,” Finn grinned. “Apologizing again and again. I forgive you and that’s it.”
“And I forgive you too.”
“Great.”
They kissed again. And again, for good measure.
Rey pulled away and she pulled him away in one sweeping move from the beach, too. Hand in his. “For the record, I’m not going to apologize for doing that.”
“Me either.”
“Good. There’s a lot we need to talk about, then.”
“We have a whole summer for that.”
They spent many days and evenings together, with Rey joining in on Finn and his mothers’ Guarlara rides and card games. He joined her in the stables, too, and Finn found out he quite liked getting his hands dirty. They also spent a lot of time talking, about Finn’s lessons and his grand ideas to make Naboo civilians’ lives better and her dreams of travelling around the world… and a lot of time was spent doing other things, too. Like kissing. A lot and a lot of kissing. Nothing more, nothing less. But as it turned out, they didn’t have all summer to enjoy each other’s company. A strange illness hit the Gungan population first, then spread to Theed through the rivers. The sickness walked to the Lake Country’s door, and soon enough, Rey’s adoptive mother woke up with a cough. The next morning, Finn found Rey packing her bags in her small room.
“You’re going.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“Of course I was going to! I would’ve never left without saying goodbye.”
“You’re not. Because I’m going too. I need to help you find that cure!”
“No, Finn. Your people need you. You’re the Prince. And I’m… I’m no one.”
“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re so much more than that.”
“Well, it’s true!” Rey wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. “In the eyes of Theed’s politicians, I’m no one. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t have avoided the topic all summer long. It would’ve made this easier.”
“What, like you leaving?”
“It wasn’t planned! But… you know what? It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No, it doesn’t! They never would’ve let a Prince be with a commoner.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“You do. Your mother’s reign is on the line. And you know it as much as I do.”
“But…”
“Finn, I have to go. I want to. I have to. I’m no one and I don’t have a past and I don’t… I don’t feel like I have a future here, right now. As soon as the summer will be over, you’ll leave and I’ll stay here. And even then, even the next summer, eventually they’ll know about us and the press will too and… I don’t want to put you in a corner.”
Finn’s shoulders slumped. She was right, of course.
“Rey…” He scratched the hairs at the base of his neck. “I don’t want you to leave after we had a fight, okay? I… I love you too much for that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Truly. I should’ve told you a lot sooner.”
She wrapped her arms around him. He breathed her in, one last time.
“I feel like I’ll never see you again,” he whispered in her ear.
“We will. We’ll see each other again. I believe that.”
“But what if something happened to you?”
She pulled away and looked straight into his eyes. “I’ll always come back.”
“How can you be sure?”
“This is True Love. You think it happens every day?”
She grabbed her bags and walked to the doorway. Rey stopped. She turned around, face reddened and eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Y’know, my birthday was always bittersweet because I’d have to watch you leave.”
That’s right. Today was Rey’s nineteenth birthday.
“And now I’m the one who’s leaving. There must be irony in that.”
“Don’t go.”
She looked away.
“I’m sorry. Take care of yourself. Please.”
And with that, she walked away.
“Is that how the chapter ends?” asked Jaina, gripping her bed sheets.
“Oh, no,” Grandpa shook his head. “Let me continue. Listen to this: Rey never reached her destination. Her ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Vader. He never left captives alive. When Finn got the news that Rey was murdered…”
Jaina gaped at him. “She was murdered? By pirates?!”
“She was.”
“Wow. This is… getting good!”
“Wonderful that you think so.”
When Finn got the news that Rey was murdered, he went into his room and shut the door. For days, he neither slept nor ate.
“I’ll never love again.”