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It’s not an active hunt, is the thing. Or, well, it wouldn’t be, if Poe weren’t so damn insistent. It’s not that Finn doesn’t want to find a lightsaber that calls to him; of course he does. It’s as easy as breathing, these days, to feel the quiet hum beneath the universe that ebbs and flows and calls and whispers and guides and moves him. And it’s moving him to find something to protect himself, to have a physical impression of the Force with him, to take one step closer to finding Harmony with the Force around him.
But he isn’t outright looking for one. He kind of figures… It’ll happen when it happens, or else, he’ll find the path when it’s there. Okay. Maybe he’s just the tiniest bit worried he won’t find one that calls to him after extending all their resources and he’ll be at square one and with no lightsaber. Maybe , just maybe that’s why he’s so hesitant to look.
Poe is not so patient.
So the joke starts like this, and it’s a really funny joke that Finn’s spent all morning workshopping as they walk through the busy market, and it starts like this: two men walk into a black market and desperately try not to get recognized as war heroes while they’re shopping for ancient Jedi artifacts and--
Okay, so the joke needs some work. Their lives are just too complicated.
He’s roused from his thoughts with Poe placing two broad hands on his shoulders, forcing Finn to hunker down and slouch a little. “ Pretty sure I just figured out where they’re keeping the goods,” he says, and gestures to a booth down the way, nestled into the tight space of the marketplace.
They’re on one of the thousands of dusty and sandy planets that seem to exist on the outskirts of what could be defined as liveable , but the market is bustling with all sorts of folks, and Poe walks them confidently towards the stall in question, weaving between cloaked and armored and slimy bodies.
“Feeling anything yet?” Poe asks, and his face is lit up in an eager, excited smile, the kind that Finn normally feels awful turning into a disappointed frown.
He’s about to do just that, opening his mouth as he stares at the booth and sees nothing for a moment, the Droid seller holding a few hidden and bagged objects that Poe, evidently, thinks must be lightsabers. “N-- Oh. Oh .”
Well, this isn’t new necessarily, but he does feel something, and his eyes train in on one of the bagged objects immediately. Something pulls at him, something twitches in him, and Finn points to it, looking the Droid in the eyes. “That one. Can I--”
The Droid watches Finn for a long moment, and then Poe, who immediately flashes a credits at him. “We’re interested,” Poe says, and the Droid slowly angles forward and unveils the bag.
Finn is used to the disappointment of ‘oh yes, obviously a magical, amazing, Force-ridden weapon from jedis long past but it’s just that’ when he sees lightsabers. Nothing special. No fireworks. There’s fireworks this time. It feels right. It feels-- It feels like a part of him that Finn didn't know was missing until this very moment, and now that he knows it exists, he'll never know true peace unless his hand wraps around the hilt and he can feel it, feel the Force, know the Force. The inactive lightsaber twitches immediately towards him, and Finn’s hand juts out to take it.
The Droid halts him, but Poe has a hand on his holster in a second, and looks to Finn with a look that says, is this the one? And at Finn’s slow, solid, but enthusiastic nod, Poe slides the creds over to the Droid and grins.
“Pleasure doing business. Got any specs?”
The Droid slowly relinquishes their hand on the hilt, and it flies to Finn. “A prospective Jedi by the name of Tano, it was--”
“Oh ho , that is all we need. Thanks.” Poe says, and starts to slide back, pulling Finn along. Finn’s heart is swelling, and when Poe squeezes his hand, the lightsaber sitting happily, heavily, rightly in his other palm, it feels like the Force has shifted for the better, just a little bit. And he really does have Poe to thank.