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Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away there lived a prince. Well, technically, he went by Supreme Leader now, taking on the (obviously metaphorical) mantle of his recently perished-under-mysterious-circumstances mentor. Besides, his relationship with his mother, the Queen of Alderaan, wasn’t particularly cordial, especially since she not-so-secretly headed the thorn in the prince’s side known as the Resistance. The prince, named Kylo Ren (a name he came up with himself since Benjamin Chewbacca Organa-Solo Skywalker Amidala Naberrie was a bit of mouthful), busied himself with ruling the better part of the galaxy, fighting with his right-hand general over the correct way of said ruling, training his knights, and talking to his grandfather’s helmet.
It wasn’t a simple helmet, no. The prince’s grandfather, Lord Vader, had been one of the greatest darkside Force users in the whole galaxy (and coincidentally a person his mother preferred to never speak of). Naturally, the prince turned to him, ahem, his helmet, for guidance.
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
And the helmet answered without fail.
“Thou, my Prince, art the strongest in the Force.”
The answer always brought great peace of mind to the prince as both his treacherous uncle and cruel mentor had left him with quite the case of PTSD. The stronger you were in the Force, the less people would dare kill you in your sleep, he reasoned.
But one day the helmet responded differently.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The blood left the prince’s already pale face. “What?” he roared in outrage. “Impossible! Bring Hux to me!”
General Hux was the prince’s part-time right hand and part-time pain in the ass. He knew how to get the job done and he knew how to give the Prince headache about it, too.
“Supreme Leader, you called?” the general asked.
Kylo adjusted his own helmet. “General, it has come to my attention that there’s a powerful new Force user called Rey of Jakku. I want you to find him.”
The general nodded solemnly. “Yes, Supreme Leader. Where is he located? What does he look like? How old is he?”
“That’s no concern of mine,” Kylo modulated. “What do I pay you for?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the general responded.
Truth be told, General Hux believed he wasn’t being paid enough to deal with the Supreme Leader’s antics. What he loved most in life, aside from his precious cat Millicent, was proper order in all things. And paperwork, of course. Can’t forget that one. The Supreme Leader, unfortunately, didn’t share these opinions. He cared little for lengthy negotiations about taxes or trade routes, things crucial for ruling the galaxy, but a lot about some mysterious intangible thing called the Force. Perhaps, the General thought, if he distracted the Supreme Leader enough, Hux could continue his governing in peace.
“Come on, dear girl, we are going on a covert mission,” he said to his beautiful and precious cat Millicent. The cat, being exceptionally smart in Hux’s opinion, meowed in agreement.
Thankfully, the General had a wide net of spies at his disposal, so he managed to locate this obscure Force user, Rey of Jakku, on a planet called Ahch-To. Hux disguised himself with clothes that didn’t indicate his high and respectable status, and flew to said planet with Millicent.
Unlike Hux’s previous (thankfully limited) experience with the homes of Force users, Ahch-To was a nice green place with odd native species ranging from fish nuns to big-eyed orange birds. The disguised General followed a path toward some huts, settling on one with cheerful yellow polka-dot curtains.
“Hello! Is anybody home?”
A young woman with an odd hairstyle opened the door and smiled. “Hello! Who are you?”
“We are just humble travellers looking for refreshment, kind lady,” Hux said evasively, offering her what he supposed was a sincere smile.
“Please, come in,” the odd girl offered.
In any other circumstances the General would inform her how careless she was being, letting in total strangers.
“What is your name, kind lady?” he asked instead.
“Rey,” the girl responded.
“Rey who?”
“Rey of Jakku.”
Only numerous years of training allowed Hux to keep a straight face. “No surname?” he wondered.
“Oh, no, scavengers on Jakku don’t have those,” Rey answered. “Milk?”
The General carefully accepted the green concoction. “Thank you, dear. Jakku is a long way from Ahch-To.”
“A friend helped me to get here,” the girl smiled fondly. “Han Solo.”
Hux barely kept himself from choking. “I know a Solo.”
“He picked me up and brought me to the Resistance,” Rey chatted. “Nice people, very friendly. General Leia sent me here to study, though my Master was the grumpiest teacher on this side of the galaxy.”
“Your Master?”
“Luke Skywalker,” the girl said blithely.
The General couldn’t believe his luck. This would keep the Supreme Leader very occupied. “You’re strong with the Force.”
“Oh, yes, I sort of run a school here,” Rey chirped. “Is that why you’ve come?”
“No, no, I’m not Force Sensitive,” Hux quickly said.
“Is she?” the girl pointed at Millicent.
“No, neither is she. Millicent is a cat.”
“Nice to meet you, Millicent the Cat. I have never seen a cat before.” Rey smiled, reaching for her. Millicent sniffed her hand and purred. Hux was amazed. His precious girl rarely tolerated strangers or people in general and had exceptional taste, which meant that Rey of Jakku was no ordinary person. The Supreme Leader was going to be elated, he thought.
“Well, Rey, thank you for your hospitality, but we must leave now,” the general said politely.
“So soon? Goodbye, and may the Force be with you.”
“May the Force be with you as well,” Hux replied, hiding a smile. The poor girl would need it.
The Prince clenched and unclenched his fists as his General recounted the meeting with Rey of Jakku.
“…has close ties with the Resistance and Alderaanian royal family, was taught by Skywalker himself, runs a school…”
“What?!” Kylo bellowed. “Dismissed! Send my Knights immediately!”
“As you wish, Supreme Leader,” the General nodded with a deeply satisfied smile.
In moments, six Knights of Ren were assembled before the prince, all in black from head to toe. Rumours speculated that Snoke, the previous Supreme Leader, either tried to turn ravens into people or the other way around and never quite finished the job, but in truth Kylo was just really fond of black.
“My loyal Knights,” he announced, “there’s a lowly scavenger from Jakku who claims herself the strongest with the Force. This will not do.”
“No, Master,” six identically modulated voices answered. By this point, all six knights knew that if they pretended to listen and didn’t ask too many questions, the meeting would go faster.
“That’s why I want you to challenge her to a duel. And win,” Kylo informed them.
“All six at once?” asked Ushar Ren, the most curious of the knights.
His neighbour, Ap'lek Ren, jabbed his side with elbow. Ushar’s smart mouth had led them into trouble before.
“Not all six at once, you idiot,” Kylo roared. “You’re the Knights of Ren, that’s not a chivalrous way to fight!”
Behind their helmets all six knights rolled their eyes. There was a chivalrous way to win a fight and a fast way to win a fight. For someone who refused to follow the Jedi path, their Master was such a stickler for rules.
“Vicrul Ren,” Kylo rumbled, “I want you to challenge Rey of Jakku. Now.”
“Yes, Master.”
Vicrul Ren, the fearsome Knight, was used to intimidating his enemies. The mere sight of his black-clad figure wielding a Scythe Blade instilled terror in everyone he met. That is, until Rey of Jakku.
Vicrul found his opponent watering an herb garden and did a double take. The girl looked twice as small as him; how could she be the one to unnerve his Master so?
“Rey of Jakku,” he started.
“Oh, hi there, hold this for a second,” she said cheerfully, handing him a watering can.
Vicrul was thankful his helmet covered his shocked expression. “Rey of Jakku, I challenge you to a duel.”
The Jedi sighed. “Now? I really need to do some weeding.”
Vicrul was deeply confused by such unusual behaviour. “I’ve just challenged your status as the strongest with the Force.”
“So?”
“So you must defend it.”
“Now?”
“Now!” Vicrul snapped.
“If you insist,” the girl sighed. “Not in my garden, though.”
The Knight stared at her incredulously through his visor. “Fine. But when I win, you rescind your strongest-with-the-Force claim.”
Rey nodded. “Fine. But when I win,” she looked at him speculatively, “you give me your helmet.”
“My helmet?” Vicrul gaped at her. “Why would you need my helmet?”
The Jedi shrugged. “I’m good with repurposing things. Hold on, I’ll grab my stuff.”
She left and the Knight took his stance, wondering which fighting style the girl favoured. He didn’t have to wonder too long. With a feral cry, Rey of Jakku attacked him from out of nowhere. Her style (for lack of a better word) lacked any logic whatsoever and in less than five minutes Vicrul found himself on his back with a staff to his visor.
“Your helmet, please,” the Jedi asked politely.
Too shocked, the Knight complied.
“How..?”
“I don’t have all day to entertain you,” Rey shrugged. “But I can offer you some green milk if you want.”
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo asked his grandfather’s helmet. It huffed and puffed before responding:
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
“How?!” he yelled. “Summon my Knights,” he ordered his nervous assistant Mitaka. Soon all the Knights of Ren were before him, including a helmetless Vicrul.
“Master,” they greeted.
“What is this horrible display?!” he bellowed.
“Um, my face, Master.”
The Prince gritted his teeth. “Your lack of helmet, idiot!”
“Rey of Jakku…” Vicrul started.
“You let the girl overpower you?!” Kylo demanded.
“She’s very skilled,” the Knight responded embarrassedly.
“Shame!” The Prince contemplated his next choice. “Cardo Ren, go and challenge Rey of Jakku! And get Vicrul’s helmet back!”
“Yes, Master.”
Cardo Ren, the skilled knight, was well-known for his obsession with armoury and weaponry. His trusty Arm Cannon was known all over the galaxy for its destructive ability. The Jedi had no chance against such a weapon.
The Knight found Rey of Jakku carefully milking an odd sea creature, who made a displeased sound when it noticed the newcomer.
“Rey of Jakku, I challenge you to a duel,” he stated.
“Hush, you’ll spook Thala Siren,” she warned, focused on her task.
“You must defend your status as the strongest with the Force,” Cardo tried again, quieter this time.
“I must finish my chores,” the Jedi replied stubbornly.
“Fight me first.”
Rey sighed. “Very well, but you’ll have to give me your helmet when I win.”
Behind the mask Cardo smirked. “We’ll see about that.” He skillfully sent a few plasma bolts in her direction which she parried easily.
“What do you think you’re doing?! Turn it off immediately, there’re porgs everywhere!” she hissed.
The Knight looked around and noticed flocks of scared wide-eyed birds. Contrary to popular belief, Cardo cared about nature preservation so he reluctantly complied. His now useless Arm Cannon served only to slow him down on the unfamiliar terrain and in no time Rey of Jakku had him pinned to the cliff by his neck.
“Your helmet, please,” the Jedi asked.
The porgs seemingly relaxed. Cardo gave the girl his helmet and sighed. His Master was going to rip him a new one, so he wasn’t in a particular hurry to go back.
“Um, porgs, are they an endangered species?” he asked instead.
“No thanks to you,” Rey supplied. “You can take one with you if you want, though.”
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo asked his grandfather’s helmet with nascent hope.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The hope evaporated faster than The Falcon did the Kessel Run. The prince slammed his fist into the wall. “My Knights, now!”
“Master,” they greeted.
“Cardo Ren, you should be ashamed!” Kylo derided his helmetless Knight. “And what in the name of the Maker is this?!”
“Uh, a therapy porg?” the Knight replied.
“Useless! All of you! Ushar Ren, you know what you have to do!”
“Yes, Master.”
Ushar Ren, the studious Knight, was famous for his penchant of testing his opponent. He used their weak spots and if none could be found, then his war club that generated a concussion field of kinetic energy would come to good use.
The Knight found Rey in her home, making cookies.
“Rey of Jakku, I challenge you to a duel,” he started.
“Not again,” the Jedi groaned. “Can’t you challenge me to a tea party for a change?”
“Uh…” Truth be told, Ushar Ren secretly nursed quite a sweet tooth, but of course he couldn’t let her know that. The Knights of Ren’s reputation was already questionable. “No, you must defend your status as the strongest with the Force.”
“If you insist,” the girl sighed. “But you’ll give me your helmet upon your defeat. That, and we have tea later.”
Ushar Ren almost tripped over himself in a hurry to start the fight. He didn’t have to. Rey of Jakku was fast and sneaky and didn’t stick to the chivalrous code. In his attempt to even the field, Ushar accidentally hit himself with his own war club and blacked out. When he came back to himself his helmet was off and the Jedi girl was wiping his forehead with something wet.
“You OK, big guy?”
“Uh…” There was a good chance that he would be worse off after his Master learnt about this.
“Want some tea?”
“Absolutely.”
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo asked with a nagging hesitation.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The helmet responded evenly.
“Kriffing hell! My Knights!” the Prince yelled with all his might.
The Knights of Ren aligned before his throne.
“Master.”
“How, how can three of the strongest Force users in the galaxy fail this miserably?!” he demanded. “What can you say for yourself, Ushar Ren?”
Ushar, whose head still hurt a bit, winced. “Rey of Jakku is a great baker.”
“She’s what?!” Kylo snapped. “You – to the medbay. You,” he pointed to Trudgen, “to Ahch-To.”
“Yes, Master.”
Trudgen Ren, a collector, kept trophies from his conquests, acquiring more weapons and armour with every victory, despite favouring his vibrocleaver above all. Rey of Jakku fascinated him to no end; what did she do with all the helmets she kept?
He found it out pretty soon. When he arrived the Jedi was painting the door of her hut with yellow paint.
“Do you think it matches the curtains?” she asked him instead of a greeting.
“Rey of Jakku, I challenge you…” he started.
“Stars!” she exclaimed in exasperation, “what do you all want from me?”
“To renounce your status as the strongest with the Force,” Trudgen replied.
“Now? I’m busy,” she groaned.
“The sooner I win the sooner I go,” the Knight supplied. “And when I do you’ll give me all the helmets you collected… and your arm wraps,” he added in afterthought.
Rey lifted her brow. “Well, when I win you’ll give me your helmet and help me finish painting the door.’’
“Deal,” Trudgen smirked under his mask.
That was a mistake since the Jedi used his distraction to land the first blow. Turned out Rey of Jakku was very eager to finish painting the door because she wasted no time dispatching the Knight, divesting him of his helmet and handing him the brush.
“Now do something useful, will you?”
Trudgen groaned. Dipping the brush, he asked the question that had kept him awake at night. “What do you do with our helmets? Do you have a Hall of Glory? Do you go there to gloat over your conquests? Do you pile them in the cellar as proof of your victories?”
Rey blinked. “What? Don’t be ridiculous, I use them as flowerpots.”
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo demanded impatiently.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The Prince slashed the wall with his lightsaber in his fury.
“Knights!”
“You called, Master?”
Kylo gritted his teeth. “You nerfherders, you can’t overpower one girl? What can you do?! And why is Trudgen covered in yellow paint?!”
“Rey of Jakku…”
“No more!” the Prince demanded. “Kuruk Ren, go and challenge the Jedi.”
“Yes, Master.”
Kuruk Ren, the observant knight, was a famous sharpshooter and a pilot. He was a fearsome sniper, highly skilled with his trusty rifle, for sure, but a strong combatant he was not.
Rey was sweeping the floor when he found her.
“Rey of Jakku, I challenge…”
“Ri’ia’s pants,” she cursed. “Can you just not?”
“If you renounce your status as the strongest with the Force…” Kuruk started.
Apparently, the Jedi didn’t have a lot of patience because she abruptly turned around and smacked his helmet with her broom. The Knight, not expecting that, landed on his ass.
“Yield,” Rey demanded with such ferocity that Kuruk immediately complied. She took away his helmet and he squinted, adjusting to the bright sun and thinking that a vacation was long overdue.
“Do you mind if I just lie down for a bit here?”
“Suit yourself,” the Jedi scoffed. “I have some parsley to plant anyway.”
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo pleaded, hoping that this time he’d hear something else.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The Prince groaned. He would have started tearing at his luscious black locks, but, firstly, he spent way too much time and hair product on his hair to just rip it out, and, secondly, his helmet was in the way.
“My Knights!”
“Master,” they responded.
“You are the disgrace of the entire Dark Side, what can you say in your defence?!” he snapped.
“Um, Master, we’re neither Light, nor Dark, you know that, right?” Kuruk quipped.
“Is that why you can’t overpower a girl?!” he demanded. “Ap'lek Ren, I trust you won’t let me down.”
“Yes, Master.”
Ap'lek Ren, the strategist knight, was a master of manipulation. Between his smoke screens and Mandalorian axe he was second only to Kylo Ren, and that’s why he went confidently on this mission.
“Rey of Jakku…” he begun, startling the woman in question who was cleaning the porgs’ mess.
“How many more of you are out there?” she demanded.
Ap'lek blinked. “Just me and my Master,” he said.
“Thank the Maker,” Rey sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
“As you wish,” the Knight grinned behind the helmet. He readied his axe as the Jedi engaged her saberstaff. When she launched the attack, Ap'lek dispatched his smoke bombs. A thick cloud covered the yard, rendering them both blind. The Knight smirked, relying on his Force vision to attack. His opponent, though, parried his blows easily. Ap'lek cursed. Of course Rey of Jakku could use the Force to guide her, too. Angry with himself, he overlooked a pile of porg droppings and slipped on it. The Jedi used it to her advantage, overpowering him immediately.
“Yield.”
Ap'lek, very aware of the mess the porgs’ discharge had made of his pristine black outfit, had no choice but to comply.
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
Kylo demanded impatiently, pacing nervously back and forth.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The helmet calmly responded. The Prince screamed in frustration.
“You scruffy moofmilkers!”
“You called, Master?” the Knights responded.
“Where are your helmets?! Do you have any idea how disgraceful this is?!” Kylo demanded furiously. The Knights squirmed under his angry stare.
“We’re not Mandalorians, Master, you know that?” Ap'lek asked carefully.
“Unfortunately,” the Prince muttered. “What does she even do with those helmets?”
The knights shared a look. “She, um, grows plants in them.”
“What?! In custom-made helmets?!” Kylo yelled. “Lunacy. Want to do something properly, do it yourself. Dismissed!” He turned to Mitaka. “Prepare my ship!”
Kylo Ren, the Master of the Knights of Ren, the crown Prince of Alderaan, the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the heir apparent to Lord Vader and the (temporarily) second strongest Force user, conquered all one hundred steps to the Jedi Temple where Rey of Jakku was meditating only to be rendered speechless. He had been told that the girl was dangerous, smart, fast, cunning, stubborn, and resourceful, but no one told him she was pretty. Kylo knew how to handle a lot of things, but pretty girls weren’t among them.
“Rey of Jakku, I challenge your status as the strongest with the Force,” he announced.
The Jedi opened her eyes lazily. “You’re the last one, right?”
Kylo frowned. “The last Sith or the last Skywalker?”
“The last moron in a helmet who has nothing better to do,” the girl snorted. “What’s with you men and Force-measuring contests?”
The Prince fumed. “Rey of Jakku, I challenge you to a duel!”
“If you insist,” the Jedi rolled her eyes, stood, and engaged her weapon.
Kylo gaped. This was not going the way he thought.
“A yellow blade? A colour of the Sith?”
Rey shrugged. “Yellow is cheerful. You going to fight or not?”
“I won’t go easy on you,” he warned.
The girl rolled her eyes.
“I won’t either.”
Kylo realised very quickly that Rey was a fearsome and ruthless opponent. Her lack of finesse was completely overshadowed by her sheer power. The Prince was amazed; he’d never met his equal before. He became even more aware that Rey became even prettier while fighting, her eyes shone, her cheeks flushed beautifully, and her bosom heaved enticingly. All of it was quite distracting. No wonder he lost his footing and the Jedi pushed him down, straddling him.
“Yield,” she demanded. Rey of Jakku leaned in for further effect and Kylo realized three things: she had freckles, her eyes were a lovely shade of hazel, and if she wiggles one more time over the sensitive parts she was currently straddling he was going to embarrass himself in an extremely unbefitting way.
“I yield,” he said hastily.
The Jedi grinned and released him. “Your helmet.”
Was it Kylo’s imagination or was she indeed blushing? No, wishful thinking.
With her prize in hand Rey turned to go and he desperately called after her. “Please, wait.” The girl turned to him expectantly. “You need a teacher.”
“I thought I was doing just fine,” Rey scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“But…” he stumbled, “let’s train together, then.” Who wouldn’t want to train with the strongest Darksider, right?
The last Jedi, apparently. “Why?” she frowned.
“Because…” The Prince looked at her helplessly, searching for a good reason.
Rey huffed. “I have no time for your games.” And with that she left.
The Prince brooded for days. Not only had he lost the fight, he didn’t know how to find a way to talk to Rey of Jakku again. He challenged her to numerous duels she declined. He sent her stormtrooper helmets she ignored. He even sent Hux to her again, all with no result, unless you count the growing number of therapy porgs on his ship. Kylo had to admit that when it came to women, he was clueless.
“Please, let me fight you again,” he begged in her rustic hut like a mere radar technician and not the Supreme Leader of half the galaxy.
“I told you I have no need for stormtrooper helmets, let alone a thousand,” Rey snarked, pouring green milk in his kaf.
The Prince sighed. What did he have to do to interest the girl?
Then a brilliant idea struck him. Perhaps if he offered his greatest treasure, the Jedi would be more agreeable? “I have a special one. It speaks,” he said meaningfully.
“Speaks?” Rey hummed pensively. “Well, I might have some place on my windowsill.”
“This is Lord Vader’s helmet and my trusty advisor,” Kylo Ren announced proudly, making sure the helmet was displayed in its full glory.
Rey of Jakku wasn’t impressed. “Really?” she asked dubiously.
The Prince simply couldn’t tolerate such behaviour.
“Helmet, helmet on the wall,
Who’s the strongest with the Force?”
He asked his customary question.
“You, my Prince, are strong, it’s true.
But Rey of Jakku is even stronger than you.”
The helmet responded as usual. The Jedi hummed, poked the helmet with her finger, looked inside, checked the dynamics and hummed.
“Huh. Interesting.” Rey grabbed the helmet out of the slack-jawed Prince’s hands and put it on the windowsill alongside the other seven helmets.
“Helmet, helmet on the sill,
Who will grow in you some dill?”
She asked sweetly.
“I refuse to respond to such disrespectful mockery,” the helmet grumbled in displeasure.
“Smart,” Rey said with satisfaction before glancing at Kylo and engaging her weapon. “What are you waiting for, pretty boy?”
The poor Prince was so flustered to be called pretty, that he couldn’t even defend himself properly. The Jedi had to restrain herself after she accidentally almost cut his face open. In no time Kylo was on the ground with Rey pointing the business end of her cheerful yellow blade in his face.
“Yield,” she demanded.
Crushed, the Prince stared at her pleadingly.
“Please, let me fight you again.”
The Jedi huffed in exasperation. “I told you…”
“Then train me,” he quickly interjected. “Please.”
The girl looked at him for a long moment. “Kylo, why do you even need training?”
The Prince groaned in frustration. “I just want to spend more time with you.”
Unexpectedly, the brightest smile spread over her face.
“Why didn’t you say so from the beginning?” she wondered out loud.
Kylo didn’t have time to respond. He barely had time to react when Rey of Jakku, the Last Jedi and the strongest with the Force, jumped on him and kissed him.
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away there lived a prince. Technically, he was also the Supreme Leader, the Master of the Knights of Ren and (hypothetically) the second strongest with the Force after his wife (if you conveniently ignore the whole Dyad thing), but who cared? Certainly not Ben Solo (the name the Prince reclaimed to the delight of his wife). The Prince left the whole galaxy-ruling business in the more than capable hands of his trusty General and his mother, happy to only have to attend three official functions and four meetings a year. Why bother with taxes and negotiations if the galaxy was perfectly fine without him brooding over it on his spaceship?
Instead the Prince settled down on Ahch-To with his beloved wife, where he was busy growing gardens, disciplining porgs, helping Rey run the school for Force-sensitive beings, and balancing the Force (or so he explained when anyone wondered why he and his wife had to retire to their quarters for lengthy periods of time through the day). Apparently the Force demanded regular and vigorous balancing more often than not. Ben and Rey, being the strongest Force users, were happy to oblige.
Turned out, Ahch-To wasn’t such a bad place to be, especially after the Prince moved a king-sized bed into their new cottage. The island setting (and Force-balancing business) did wonders for his nerves which, along with his marriage, improved Ben’s relationship with his parents immensely. The Knights also settled on Ahch-To, taking teaching positions with the school since Rey negotiated annual vacations for them. It was a good thing – the royal couple needed all the help they could get once they introduced a whole bunch of little dark-haired freckled Force users to the galaxy. Even with the Knights, the Resistance, and the whole Royal House of Alderaan, Ben and Rey’s hands were always full.
Vader’s helmet, disgruntled with his fate, hadn’t talked again, even after Rey switched from dill to sage. No plant has ever wilted in any of the helmets which probably had less to do with the helmets’ magical properties and more with Ben’s complicated watering schedule.
All in all, the Prince was very content with his fate. Perhaps his life now wasn’t as opulent as it once was, but the mere thought that the first thing he’d see the next morning would be his wife’s adorable freckles instead of his General’s pinched expression provided him with bone-deep satisfaction. He had everything he needed and so did Rey.
And they lived happily ever after. And the Force was with them. Always.