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Chapter Text

She knew everyone whispered about her. She didn’t care. There was too much at stake and they would never understand, not in a million years.  

So when she told the Reborn Republic Council—really just a ragtag conglomeration of politicians and generals—what she intended to do, and they looked at her like she’d lost her mind instead of the other half of her soul, she simply glared at them and coldly said, “Go to hell.” 

They got the hint after she said that. Even Poe Dameron, who’d blown his top when she finally told him the truth about Ben Solo, took a literal step back. She might’ve refused the throne of an Empress, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t act like one when the occasion required. 

She never had to say “Go to hell” to Finn, though. When she told him, privately, what she was going to do and why, he’d looked at her with a mixture of worry, confusion, and resignation. 

“You’re sure about this?” he’d asked, his voice dropping to an anxious whisper. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

Rey had smiled at that—briefly, sadly. “I’m just glad you’re even asking that, Finn.”

“Why? Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Rey started to say something, hesitated, and looked away. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear—she wore it long and loose these days—and stuffed another ration bar into her knapsack. 

“You know I’m going to try and bring Ben Solo back from the dead,” she said quietly. “I keep expecting you to wake up one day and hate me for wanting that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I don’t even know that I would blame you.”

For a moment neither of them spoke, and her throat tightened at the possibility that Finn would walk away. He had been her first friend…the first person since her parents died who she’d ever really loved. It would kill her if she lost him, too. 

But then he’d reached out, laid his strong dark hand over her thin, calloused one, and something inside Rey broke. For a whole year now she’d tried to be strong and hold her grief inside till nighttime, when she’d coil herself into a tight knot in her bed on Varykino and sob into her pillow. But the sight and feeling of Finn’s hand on hers threw open the floodgates. Her shoulders crumpled and she clamped her free hand over her mouth. 

“I could never hate you, Peanut,” Finn murmured. “Never.”

His gentleness was unbearable. Rey had let out a strangled noise then and collapsed into his arms, weeping harder and more freely than she had since Ben vanished. 

“I can’t live without him, Finn! It hurts! It hurts so badly…”

“I know.” Finn’s arms had tightened around her, warm and safe. “And I know you wouldn’t do something like this if you didn’t believe, in your heart of hearts, that it was the right thing to do.”

The right thing to do. The memory of those words bolstered Rey as she picked her way up and down Exegol’s cliffs and shafts with the same grace and strength that had served her on Jakku. The air grew warmer and thicker the further she descended. By the time she reached her grandfather’s throne room, the stench of dead, rotting bodies made her gag. 

But she had to come here. The Jedi texts—which she had scoured until her eyes ached for any explanation for what had happened to her and Ben—had said it was “a place of vergence.” It was a place of unspeakable evil, yes…but there was also a doorway here that led to another world…a World Between Worlds…

And that doorway was the only possible explanation for why and how Ben had survived that horrible, back-breaking fall. Palpatine had tossed him down the cliff like he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes—she’d seen it and been unable to do anything about it—and yet! 

And yet Ben had climbed right back up again, faster than humanly possible and in spite of his wounds.

“Vergence,” Rey whispered, moving at a slower, almost reverent pace. “A pathway to eternity.”

She stepped over the place where Ben had died. A shudder ran through her, but for the first time since she set out on this journey, she felt a twinge of excitement alongside her desperate determination. If she was right, if she’d read the texts correctly, if she wasn’t simply following the burning desire of her own broken heart, then she wouldn’t leave this place alone. She’d go home with Ben. She would be whole again. 

“Please,” she whispered, “let me see him.”

She reached the edge of the precipice. A flash of blue lightning lit up the chasm long enough for her to see the jagged rocks Ben had tumbled against on the way down. Rey let out a nervous breath through rounded lips. She hadn’t come unprepared. She pulled off her knapsack and drew out the long, heavy coil of rope she’d brought along. 

She tied it to a nearby boulder and tested the knot. She let the rope fall and watched as it disappeared into the pitch-black depths. Then she gripped it with both hands, took a deep breath, and hoisted herself over the edge. 

“Be with me,” she murmured, closing her eyes as she pushed herself further, further, further down the cliff. “Be with me.”

He knew his grandfather and uncle weren’t telling him everything. He tried telling himself he didn’t care. It was part of his punishment, probably, to wait who-knew-how-long before he finally understood why he was trapped here in the World Between Worlds. 

“You’re not being punished,” his mother had tried to tell him. “You just need time—“

“Time for what?” he’d blurted, bouncing his elbows on his knees like an over-active ten-year-old. “Time to purge my soul?”

Mom had looked at him with a mixture of sympathy, love, and patience that probably would’ve driven him crazy—and furious—once upon a time. Now it just rebuked him gently. He dropped his gaze, unable to bear hers and all the memories that came crashing back. She used to rock me back to sleep after a nightmare. She took me to the zoo on Coruscant. She put bandages on all my scrapes. She called out to me, and it killed her…

She’d laid a hand on his. Her skin shimmered blue. His was a washed-out grey, as sure a sign as any that he was caught between the realm of the living and the dead. 

“If I had to it again, I would,” she whispered, reading his thoughts.

He shook his head vehemently, a strand of hair falling over his face. “I wouldn’t let you.”

“Oh, like you’d be able to stop me.”

He’d glanced up at that, only to find one of Leia Organa’s trademark smirks overspreading her face. At the sight, Ben Solo felt something stir inside him…and it burst out of him in a short, breathless chuckle. Her smile widened at the sound, and her hand traveled up to his hair. She ran her fingers through it, her eyes turning dreamy as, he realized, she remembered how it felt when she cradled him against her chest for the very first time. 

“You were so unimaginably tiny, Ben. So tiny, and so perfect.” 

Before he could stop himself, he leaned into her hand. Force, but he’d ached for her touch for so long…

“I love you,” Mom whispered. “Do you believe that?”

Ben swallowed hard. He’d spent nearly his entire lifetime hearing voices in his head telling him otherwise. Even now, something inside him tried hold her at bay. Don’t let yourself hope! You don’t deserve her love, not after what you did! Step back, don’t let her get close. Fall to pieces in front of her and you’ll never put yourself back together again!

“I want to believe it,” Ben said, his deep voice little more than a hoarse whisper. To his surprise, his mother’s lips twitched in a small, steady smile. 

“That’s why you need time,” she whispered. “You won’t be here forever. But we can’t send you back until you’re healed here…” She touched the side of his head. “And here.” She laid her hand on his chest. “We’ll know when the time is right.”

And that, right there, was when Ben frowned. “‘We?’ Who’s ‘we?’”

Mom had glanced over his head, nodding. He’d turned, and at the sight of his uncle and Anakin Skywalker—because who else could it have possibly been?—standing there, Ben Solo had dropped his head in his hands with a despairing groan of, “Oh, kriff.”

It was a testimony to his uncle’s new sinless state that he didn’t immediately say, “Language!”

How much time had passed since that conversation with his mother, Ben had no idea. He walked the star-lit paths with no real destination in sight, sometimes talking quietly with his grandfather, sometimes arguing (and repeatedly reconciling) with his uncle, and often getting lost in his own thoughts and memories. Without Snoke, Palpatine, or even Rey in his head, he had no one but himself to listen to. He didn’t sleep or eat. He didn’t need to. Sustained by the Force, Ben Solo worked through the painful knots of his life and untangled them with care, trying to figure out what kind of tapestry they might make. 

He tried not to think about Rey. For all he knew, the years had passed one after another for her. She’d most likely moved on, found someone else to love, had children, and made a home for herself. He loved her—he would always love her—he would never regret giving his life for her. But she would never be his. Accepting that was part of the untangling. 

But today—whatever that meant in a place without real time—something was different. The World Between Worlds hummed with expectation. Ben could feel it pulsing in veins that, up until now, hadn’t felt as if they were really alive anymore. His heart, which hadn’t beat at all since Exegol, fluttered against his ribcage. He glanced down at his hands; they were still grey and faded-looking, but they tingled at the fingertips. 

“What do you feel?” Anakin Skywalker asked, suddenly materializing at his side. “Describe it, Ben.”

Ben looked at him, bewildered, then let his gaze drift off to nothing in particular as they continued to walk along the invisible starlit path. “I feel…almost alive.”

“Ah, interesting,” Uncle Luke said, coming in from the other side. “What else?”

Ben clamped down on a brief needle of irritation; even now he still prefered Anakin’s company. “Someone’s coming. The Force is leaning towards them. Welcoming them in.”

Anakin smiled, a boyish expression despite his wise, ageless eyes. “Did anybody ever tell you you’re quite the poet?”

Ben laughed. “I was only ever good with words on paper. Saying them out loud…not so good.”

“And yet in spite of that eloquent confession,” Uncle Luke teased, “you described what’s happening to a ’t.’”

Ben looked down at him in surprise. “Someone’s coming? To this place? Who is it? Don’t tell me it’s another war criminal in need of rehabilitation.”

Anakin’s grin broadened; he laughed, shaking his head and his blue-tinged curls. “No, I’m pretty sure this place can only handle one patient at a time. Guess again.”

“My father?” Ben asked, his stomach dropping. 

“No, Ben,” Uncle Luke said—and to Ben’s relief, his voice had turned both serious and gentle. “Try again.”

“Think of the one person you’ve wanted to see most,” Anakin murmured. “The entire time you’ve been here you’ve thought of her, even when you feared it might be wrong just to cherish your memories of her…”

With a sharp intake of breath Ben broke away from his grandfather and his uncle. For the first time since he found himself in this place, the dark, star-studded, boundless space made his head spin. For the first time, too, he felt the air stir. A breeze. He walked into it, his long legs taking longer and longer strides.

“Rey?” he gasped, then pulled that fresh, living air into his chest. “Rey!”

Rey didn’t need to keep her eyes open. She let the Force guide her, warn her of nearby rocks, and assure her of her footing. A cool wind blew up from the depths of the shaft, fresher than the stagnant air of the throne room. If she were still wearing her white tunic, she would’ve had gooseflesh, but the oversized black sweater she wore tied at her waist kept the chill at bay. Whenever she paused to rest, she leaned her head against her arm and buried her nose in the thick material. 

It still smelled like him. That was enough to keep her going. 

And then, abruptly, her feet touched firm ground. Rey opened her eyes and gasped. Exegol had vanished; at some point she’d passed through the thin veil between her world and another. And what a world it was! Stars surrounded her on all sides, yet she walked on something solid and a fine, cool mist fell on her face. On instinct she touched her lightsaber hilt, but the starlight was bright enough to guide her way. She glanced back at her rope to make sure it was still hanging there; it was, suspended from a point she could no longer see. She tugged it just to be on the safe side, then turned her face forward. 

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

Someone was there—maybe even more than person. She could sense them as clearly as if they were around an unseen, nearby corner. She took several bolder steps forward, glancing all around. An idea seized her, and she drew a deep breath. 

“I am Rey Skywalker,” she called. “I am the Last Jedi, and I have come for Ben Solo.” 

Silence replied, but she was hardly finished. She pulled out her lightsaber, not to illuminate the path but to prove a point. When she thumbed it alive, she raised the golden beam above her head and felt the Empress within her rising to the surface. 

“I know the ways of the Force! I have studied the ancient texts. I know now what a Dyad is. I know who Ben Solo and I were and what we can still be—and I know he is here. So if you think I won’t tear this place apart looking for him, then you underestimate me. I am sick and tired of waiting for the people I love and for what I want. I love Ben Solo and I want him…and I will not leave this place without him!”

She’d barely gotten that last word out when a sudden blast of cool wind struck her head-on. Rey gritted her teeth and dug her heels in, holding her lightsaber out in front of her. Deja vu hit her just as violently as the wind: this was almost as physically taxing as fending off her grandfather’s lightning on Exegol. 

The difference was that the lightning drained her. The harder this wind blew, the more alive and ferocious she felt. 

“I—will—not—leave!” she screamed. She clenched her fist, swept her free arm down—

And the wind stopped with a thunderclap. Rey lifted her head, breathing hard. The stars were gone. Her lightsaber shone against stone walls on either side of her. 

She was back on Exegol. She was back in the chasm. 

“No,” Rey breathed. “No no no no no—!”

“Rey! Rey!” 

She froze. She spun on the ball of her foot, but the lightsaber showed that she hadn’t walked far from where her rope still hung. Nobody behind her, then. She turned back towards the black trench ahead of her, her heart thudding. 

“Rey! Rey, where are you?!”

She shuddered, teeth chattering and eyes blinking rapidly. That voice…it sounded like him, but…it can’t be…I thought he was in the World Between Worlds…

“REY!”

“I’m here!” she shouted, breaking into a staggering run. “Where are you?”

Footsteps echoed; she wasn’t sure if they were hers, or if she heard a second pair of feet as well. The saber never flickered, the warm light illuminating the jagged walls. When the passage grew so narrow she had to walk sideways, she definitely caught the scrape of heavier boots on gravel and stone. 

“Rey! Rey, is that you?”

“It’s me! Do you see the light?” 

“Stop! Don’t move! I’m coming towards you!” 

Rey didn’t obey right away. She finished squeezing through until she could stand normally, then paused. Her breath came in hard, ragged pants, her hair clung to her sweaty face, and Ben’s old black sweater hung limply off one shoulder. But her heart still hammered against her sternum, and the wild fluttering in her stomach and the shaky, nervous smile on her face all told her one thing: she had hope again. 

“Ben?” she called. “Ben?”

The pounding footsteps came closer…and then she was no longer alone. He stood just a few feet away from her, breathing hard and flushed from running, clad in a simple grey tunic and black trousers. The blood and grime from Exegol were gone; he stood straight and broad and tall, no longer limping on a broken leg. 

But the torment and fear and grief that once filled him? She saw no sign of them, either. His eyes were clear and vibrant, and the overjoyed, amazed smile on his unscarred face took her breath away.

“Rey,” he whispered. 

A wild noise burst out of her before she could stop it. She dropped the lightsaber and threw herself at him. He lunged forward, too, and as they crashed into each other her arms locked around his neck while his crushed her ribcage. 

The Force had answered her demand. She hadn’t left the World Between Worlds without him after all.  

“Oh, Ben,” she gasped. “Oh, I’m never letting you out of my sight again…”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart.”

Rey clamped her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to straighten and look her in the eye. “Then I’ll make one I know I can keep. Ever since we touched hands on Ach-To I’ve loved you…and I’ll never love anyone else…and I will love you until the day I die.”

Ben stared down at her, his dark eyes shining. Rey felt her own eyes brim with tears as he cupped her face in both his warm, massive hands and leaned his forehead against hers. 

“That,” he whispered, “is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s the truth,” she breathed. “I. Love. You.”

He closed his eyes. “I love you more.”

Rey shut her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. The next thing she knew his lips were slanted over hers and she was too lost in his kiss to think about anything or anyone else. 

They could make plans later. They’d figure out how to introduce him to her friends and to the Republic, and they’d make a home where they could both heal and grow in their love and combined strength…later. 

Right now, they were together again. And that was all that mattered. 

Chapter Text

Ben had never known happiness like this. Rey was here, she was in his arms, she was alive and unhurt and—Force, she was beautiful. The way her eyes had shone while she told him she loved him had made his heart pound and feel like it might jump right out of his chest. He also seemed to remember her feeling like skin and bones the last time he held her like this. She was still slim and athletic, but all her old angles were soft with health.

It made him wonder how long he’d been gone. How much had changed since he…

“A year,” Rey breathed. “Longest…longest year of my life.”

Ben pressed one last kiss to her lips, then lifted his head head just enough so he could look down at her. She met his gaze steadily, her freckled cheeks glowing and her eyes still shining with love and tears and joy. He moved one hand from her waist and slid it back beneath her hair, his palm against the side of her neck. 

Rey closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. Something deep and warm stirred in him at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running his thumb along her cheekbone. “I’d say, ‘I wish I could’ve come back sooner,’ but I…I’ve needed this time.”

“In the World Between Worlds?” she whispered back. 

He nodded, dropping his gaze. “They’ve been there for me, Rey. My mom…my grandfather…Luke. I needed…” His throat tightened; was he really going to weep now, after all this time?! “I needed them to keep guiding me back into the Light. All those years I’d buried myself deeper and deeper into the Dark until you…” He lifted his gaze, a smile tugging at his mouth in spite of himself. “Until you crashed into my life with all your ferocity and defiance.”

Rey smiled, gave a soft, huffing laugh. Ben tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. 

“I just needed more time with the ones who knew me longest,” he explained, hoping she’d understand. “I don’t think I’m the same man you knew. Force, I hope I’m not…”

“You’re not,” Rey insisted eagerly, somehow pressing herself even closer to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I knew it as soon as I saw you. All your conflict is gone, Ben. You feel free. This is the you I saw when we first touched hands!”

He laid his hands back along the curve of her waist—and then, feeling the sudden daring pulse of his Solo blood, he let them slide down to her hips. Rey gave no outward reaction, but through the Bond, which now sizzled like a live wire for the first time in a very, very long time, he felt her shudder with delight. 

“I can’t promise I’ll be easy,” he said, only half-teasing. “I’m sure my grandfather and uncle would tell you I’ve still got enough unhealthy mindsets and tendencies to keep the Galaxy’s shrinks busy for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t care.” She laced her fingers tightly against the back of his neck. “I’d rather have you and all your ‘tendencies’ for the rest of my life than live without you one more day. Besides…” She smirked, and a deep warmth inside of him flared at the mischief in her hazel eyes. “You’ll have to deal with me and my scavenging habits.”

This time, Ben actually laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. 

“Scavenging habits? Which ones?”

“Oh, you know.” She tipped her head to the side. “I’ve been known to snatch food off my friends’ plates on occasion. I have a hard time throwing things away, even if they’re junk. And I steal shirts, as you can see.”

Ben glanced down. “Is that mine?”

“It is.” For just a moment, pain flickered on her face. “I couldn’t bear to leave it behind.”

He ran his thumb over the black material at her hip. She kept my shirt. She kept my shirt…she wanted something of me…

“But just so we’re clear,” Rey said, the playful lilt back in her voice, “you’re not getting it back.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want it back. It suits you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Now she laughed. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’ve never lied to you.” His voice dropped, both in volume and in pitch. “I’m not about to start now.”

The girlish merriment in Rey’s face shifted into something both grave and adoring. Ben couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and forward once again and caught her lips in another kiss—but this time he moved slowly and gently, and so did she. The frantic, desperate need of a few moments ago had given way to something more restful…something more sure and steady…something he wanted to hold onto for the rest of his life as long as she was in it. 

They might’ve stood there for another five minutes, relishing each other and the connection that now hummed with contentment between them, if it weren’t for the flash of lightning. Ben saw it through his closed eyelids and heard the familiar, eerie screech that followed it rather than thunder. Rey broke the kiss and tipped her head back. Instinctively, Ben tightened his arms around her as he looked around. 

“What do you say we get out of here?” Rey whispered. “Run away and never come back?”

He looked down at her and smiled. “I like the sound of that, sweetheart.”

Rey laced her fingers with Ben’s and, with her free hand, snatched up her lightsaber. She led the way with the saber held out in front of her, the yellow beam warding the shadows away, and never let go of Ben’s huge, warm, strong hand even when they had to squeeze through that unsettlingly narrow passage. 

Ben, however, had far more trouble getting his broad, muscular self through to the other side than she did. More than once, her anxiety (or, more likely, her sheer terror) spiked at the sight and sound of him wrestling and grunting and pushing himself forward. By the time they made it to the other side, his grey tunic was torn and his naturally pale face flushed with the effort. 

“Are you all right?” she asked worriedly as they hurried along. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He brushed himself off with his free hand and gave her a wry look. “I don’t think you’ll want to steal this shirt.”

Rey managed a shaky laugh. “You never know. This one still has a big hole in it.”

With that, she tugged his old sweater up and past her belt, showing him the ragged tear where she had stabbed him with his own grandfather’s lightsaber. The look on Ben’s face at the sight of it was a strange one—vaguely impressed, somewhat distant with memory, but relieved. 

“You killed Kylo Ren that day,” he said, running his thumb over the top of her hand. “After that…I knew what I needed to do. And I was finally free to do it. You saved me, Rey.”

Rey shuddered. “But I nearly killed all of you, too. That’s why I never mended this shirt. I wanted to remind myself of…of what can happen if I don’t guard myself. I still have a horrible temper…”

“You think I don’t still carry anger?” He raised his thick eyebrows at her, daring her to challenge him. “We all have Light and Darkness inside us, sweetheart. Our choices are all that really matter.”

Rey quirked her own eyebrows at him. “Since when did you become so wise?”

He laughed at that—and oh, how she wanted to stop right there and kiss him for the sheer joy of it. That was the second time he’d laughed in the span of minutes. She’d be more than happy to spend the rest of her life hoarding each and every one of Ben Solo’s laughs.

“I didn’t,” he responded, tugging her closer to press a kiss to her forehead. “I just have a wise mother…and that girl who saved me isn’t so bad, either.”

Rey beamed—but now she could finally see the rope still dangling from the edge of the cliff. Ben refused to go up first, so Rey hooked her deactivated saber back into her belt, hoisted herself up, planted her booted feet against the rock face, and shimmied up as fast as she could. She glanced over her shoulder several times, trying to glimpse him, but there came a point where the chasm’s vapors hid him from her view. She moved faster then, remembering her promise to never let him out of her sight again.

But almost as soon as she reached the top and collapsed in an exhausted heap, the rope went taut and she heard him climbing up after her. Panting for breath, Rey hauled herself onto her hands and knees and peered over the edge of the cliff. When she finally saw him, she held her breath until he reached the top and fell to his knees.

“That,” he gasped, “was still a lot easier than last time.”

She said nothing, content to watch him while he caught his breath. Once he was recovered, they both got to their feet and resumed their hurried walk, hand-in-hand. They stopped only when they reached the spot where they’d fallen in front of Palpatine’s crumbling throne. Ben gripped her hand so tightly, it hurt a bit. 

“You died here,” he whispered. 

Rey moved closer, pressing her shoulder against his and rubbing his arm with her free hand. “So did you.”

They stood there for just a moment, Rey with her forehead against his shoulder, remembering how she had screamed and wailed as she clutched his sweater against her chest, her heart utterly broken. Ben nudged her mind gently, and she let him see the terrible memory…let him hear the way she’d sobbed there and again on Ajan Kloss, when she’d dropped to her knees in the shower and watched the blood—his and hers—run down the drain. 

She felt his lips on her forehead again, heard his deep, resonant voice in her mind. “You’re not alone now.”

She smiled, nuzzling the soft fabric of his tunic. “Neither are you.”

When they finally made it out of the Sith Temple, Ben stopped short in surprise. 

“You brought the Falcon here?” he blurted. “She made the journey? Through the Unknown Regions?!”

“She’s got it where it counts,” Rey said, a new bounce in her step. The merciless wind of this cold and otherwise dead planet whipped at her loose hair and tugged his old sweater off her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to mind. “You don’t mind that I brought her, do you?”

“No! No, no. I don’t mind at all.”

He felt Rey gently probing his mind, making sure he was telling the truth—but he meant what he’d said about not lying to her. He had never intentionally told her a falsehood, not even as Kylo Ren. Once upon a time, the sight of the Falcon had been like touching an exposed nerve. But so many healing conversations with his grandfather, his uncle, and his mother—not to mention a few of the old Jedi masters—kept coming back to him now, warding off all the old bitterness and resentment, however well-deserved they may have been. 

“I’m so sorry, Ben. As your parents, we should’ve protected you more…we loved you so much…”

“You were wronged, Grandson. You were wrong, but you were also wronged, and no one here is questioning that. You just can’t let your anger fester forever. Trust me. It’ll eat away at you like a wasting disease.”

“You’re right, Kid. I was an idiot, and I’m sorry. But I’ll be frank with you…if you can’t forgive me or your parents, you’ll never forgive yourself, either.”

The wind got worse just as they ran up the Falcon’s boarding ramp. Rey nearly stumbled, but Ben caught her by the waist and kept her on her feet—and then they were inside, shielded from the wind and the cold. Rey slammed her hand against the button on the wall; the ramp retracted and the hatch slammed shut. All the old, familiar smells of the Falcon immediately enveloped Ben—the musty scents of oil, travel food, metallic tools, and leather seats—but Rey didn’t give him a chance to stand there absorbing memories. She pulled him straight into the cockpit instead.

“Who’s getting us out of here?” she asked. “You? Me?”

He blinked, stared at her. “I…I have no idea where we’re going.”

She grinned. “Right. You take the co-pilot’s seat, then. I don’t mind telling you that flying the Falcon on my own is a bit trickier than when Chewie’s with me. He’s got arms for days—he can reach all the controls and levers I can’t without literally getting up out of my seat…”

She was chattering, and although Ben couldn’t quite tell if it was from excitement or nervousness, he didn’t care. The sound of her voice was like music. He sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, his hands fueled by muscle memory as they flew over the console. 

“…but flying alone beats flying with Poe. He’s my friend and I love him, but he’s insufferable when it comes to the Falcon.”

“Poe Dameron?” Ben asked. 

“Yes.” Rey flipped a lever and the engines revved. “He told me once that you grew up together.”

Ben let out a scoffing laugh. “We did.”

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye. “He also said you two had an encounter on Starkiller.”

This time he tipped his head in cautious embarrassment. “We did that, too.”

Rey nodded, half-rising out of her seat to reach a button on the ceiling. “Do you think that maybe—just maybe—you could be friends again? Oh, and look, you see that pump there? Push it—it bypasses the compressor.”

“Compressor?! Why did my dad—?”

“It wasn’t him, it was…well, long story, but it was the man who used to own me and this ship.” Rey returned to her seat and narrowed her eyes at the starshield and the grim, dead view beyond it. “All right, here we go…”

She wrapped her fingers around the accelerator and pulled it down, sure and steady. Ben, momentarily stunned by the words “the man who used to own me,” sensed her attention flicking towards the shields; without a word, he turned them on himself. Rey shot him a grateful smile, then committed her full focus to the task at hand. Neither of them spoke again until they’d cleared Exegol’s thin blue atmosphere.

“Punch it,” Rey said. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben deadpanned, activating the hyperspace drive. Immediately the stars streaked blue and he felt the familiar jolt of the old ship as she shot into lightspeed. 

But it was more than just a (literally) astronomical transition. As soon as they made that clear, complete break from Exegol, Ben felt as if a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He drew a long, shuddering breath. Rey, meanwhile, let out an equally long and shaky sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time she’d been on Exegol. When she looked at him, her expression was one of trepidation, as if she feared she might have dreamed him and everything else that had just happened. Ben understood and held out his hand. 

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Rey looked down at his hand, then back up at him. He swallowed, remembering the last time he’d held out his hand to her like this…not to mention the time before that. 

“I did want to take your hand…Ben’s hand.”

With no other sound in the cockpit except their own breathing and the hum of the aging engines, she slipped her palm against his. Ben’s breath hitched and he gave her hand a slight, hopeful tug. Rey smiled, rose out of her chair, and somewhat shyly took a new seat on his left thigh. 

“I dreamed of this,” she whispered. “I just never thought it would happen.”

“What?” he asked a bit hoarsely. “Flying away in the Falcon?”

“No. Sitting here…like this…like we haven’t a care in the world.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands; after a moment’s fumbling, he pressed one against her back, the other to her knee. “Do we? Have a care in the world?”

Rey’s smile broadened, her dimples flashing. “We don’t have to. We could just be Rey and Ben, if you like.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or?”

“Or…” She dropped her hand to his shoulder, fingering the place where his tunic had ripped during their mad dash out of that chasm. “Or we can be the Last Jedi. The Republic—the Reborn Republic—expects me to be that, but I couldn’t do it without you. Finn is magnificent, he’ll make a wonderful Jedi, but…”

“FN-2187,” Ben murmured. 

Rey looked up, her hazel eyes sparking with something fierce and protective. “Yes, but his name is Finn. And he’s my best friend. He knew I was going to try and bring you back, but unlike everyone else, he never tried to stop me. There are only a few things I want more than for you two to be friends.”

She looked and sounded so earnest, so grave, so hopeful, Ben felt himself melting. She wanted him to be friends with her friend. There were only a few things she wanted more. What are those things? he wondered—but he didn’t give voice to that question…not yet. Instead he felt a strange, wry mirth rising up inside him…and just like his father before him, he responded with a smirk and a quip. 

“You’ve already asked me to be friends again with Poe Dameron. Would this be as much of a challenge?”

Rey laughed softly. “No, I don’t think so. Finn is easy to love. He may give you some grief about…certain things…but he knows how much you mean to me.” “He knows I love you,” Ben heard her voice add in his mind. “He’ll try to respect you…and I hope you’ll do the same for him.”

“I will,” Ben murmured. “I’ll do my best.”

Her eyes softened, and her whole frame finally relaxed as she slipped an arm over his shoulders. Ben suddenly found it very hard to breathe as she leaned more heavily against him; his fingers tightened over her knee, and his other arm slid lower and wrapped around her waist. 

“Anyway,” she went on, seemingly oblivious to his flushing face, “Finn is Force-sensitive, and I’ve been training him. But I only had a year of training myself, and I…I need a teacher.”

“You need a teacher…I could show you the ways of the Force…”

“Is that what you want, Rey?” Ben asked gently. “Do you want to be a Jedi?”

She considered that a moment, her eyebrows knotted and her lips pursed. “I want to help people. I want to make sure no little Force-sensitive child has to grow up alone and afraid, like you and I did. And I want to help rebuild the Galaxy in a way that sticks. So yes…if doing all that means I need to become a new kind of Jedi, then so be it.” She paused, looked him in the eye. “What do you want, Ben?”

What do I want? Had anyone ever asked him that? His grandfather, his mother, and his uncle had known what he wanted; they’d said as much right before he left them. “Think of the one person you’ve wanted to see most…The entire time you’ve been here you’ve thought of her…”

But he hadn’t asked himself that question in a long, long time. 

And yet…the answer was so, so easy. 

“I want you,” Ben whispered, lifting his hand from her knee and sliding it around the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. “If you want me to teach you, I’ll teach you. But I want to cherish you—every square inch of you—the way you deserve to be cherished.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Ben…”

“I want to prove to you every day that I’m not him anymore,” he went on, his voice getting stronger with each word. “I want to help you fight whatever’s left of the First Order, but I want to take care of you…talk to you…listen to you…make plans with you…”

Rey laughed, a breathless and beautiful sound. “Me, too.”

Ben stopped short. “Really?”

Her blush deepened. “Really. I want all of what you just said, Ben. With you. Only you.”

For a moment he just stared at her, still not quite believing his ears. But then again, this was Rey. She had always been quick to tell him what she wanted. “It isn’t too late…You’ll turn…I’ll help you…I did want take your hand…Be with me…”

He’d asked her what she wanted; she had asked him the same question. And when it was all said and done, they only wanted each other. 

If the Force’s behavior was any indication, it wanted that for them, too. 

“Marry me, Rey,” Ben whispered.

The smile she gave him was warm and loving as sunshine. And as she took his face in her hands and kissed him, he heard her voice in his mind, murmuring it over and over again: “Yes…yes…a thousand times, yes…”

The nav-com chimed. Rey lifted her head, smiled down at him again, and slid off his lap. Ben had to stop himself from grabbing her by the waist and keeping her where she was.  

“You never told me,” he said. “Where are we going?”

Rey said nothing at first, her hands flying over the console. The Falcon dropped out of hyperspace, and Ben shot to his feet in shock and wonder as a familiar green planet burst into view. 

“Your mother left Varykino to me,” Rey said softly. “I’ve been living there for nearly a year. The villa crumbled long ago, but there’s a gardener’s cottage near the island’s highest point.” She looked up at him hopefully. “I’ve made a home of it. You’re the only thing missing, Ben Solo.”

Ben snapped his mouth shut; he hadn’t realized until now that it had been hanging open. He looked down at her, and slowly a smile crept over his face. 

“The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead…”

“Well, then,” he said. “Let’s go home.”