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They’re good pictures. She can admit that much at least.
Anyone with eyes would say they look madly in love, what with the way Ben is grinning down at her, their heads pressed together like the secret lovers they’ve somehow managed this long to be. The more reputable papers resisted the urge to include the shots that followed: Ben’s hand cradling her neck, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, their lips colliding with the fury of two people naïve enough to think they’re alone. The same can not be said for the tabloids. Apparently social media has all but broken into song.
For the rest of the country, the sight of their tall, dark and mysterious future king doing anything other than standing dutifully where he’s told and offering the barest hint of an upturned grin is cause for uproarious celebration. Only the people at the center of it see reason for dread.
Rey’s at work when the news breaks, oblivious to the barrage of calls and texts going unanswered on her phone.
In retrospect, there is no excuse for her not to check her messages before heading out. Alas, she does not, instead strolling into the world in blissful ignorance, only to be caught by a cadre of cameras completely unawares. She will be forever grateful that Finn was there, managing to get her back inside the building and lock the doors before she’s engulfed in a sea of paparazzi and stomped to death in their attempts to capture it all on film.
After that, she decides to look at her phone.
If historians ever gain access to the messages Prince Benjamin Bail Organa-Solo sends that day, they will find something akin to a Shakespearean tragedy unfolding before their eyes. His expletive-riddled fury quickly gives way to desperate pleas and apologies. He can’t come get her, as the hordes of paparazzi would only get worse. He does, however, send a car. The conspicuous black SUV with tinted windows does its best to squeeze down the back alley behind their building, but not before more screaming men with cameras push their way between it and their exit. By the time she manages to get the car door closed she’s hyperventilating, staring out the windows at the mob of angry men, praying to any god that will listen that their cameras can’t see the tears being shed.
Finn holds her in the backseat until the car comes to a safe stop in the secured parking garage beneath Ben’s building. His security agents - familiar to her now, if only known by their nicknames Pluck and Stooge - escort her the rest of the way, leaving the driver to take Finn home in peace.
Ben’s door flies open before Stooge can even lift his hand to knock, her disheveled boyfriend enveloping her in the cradle of his embrace before slamming the door in Stooge’s face.
“I’m so sorry Rey.” His voice cracks, pressing the words into her hair as he crushes her to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He shakes his head, the mop of shaggy black hair tickling her neck before he pulls back enough to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I should be able to keep you safe.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
He lets out a sob, pulling her back into a bone crushing hug as they stand there, wrapped up in each other, shaking through the fears of the day. Finally, he pulls back, eyes closed as he presses their foreheads together and breathes out a weighted sigh.
“I love you. So fucking much. Please tell me you know that.”
“I do.” She replies, sniffling as she peers up at his wide, infinite eyes. “And I love you too. We’ll get through this.”
Ben leans in, kissing her forehead as he replies, equal parts forceful and frantic, “I’m going to protect you. I’m going to make sure they can’t ambush you like that ever again. I’m going to…”
“Not kill anyone.” She smiles weakly, pressing up to kiss his chin. “First and foremost.”
Ben growls in response, nuzzling her nose before kissing her full on the mouth. “Don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Ben.”
“Rey.”
It’s her turn to hug him, burrowing her head under his chin. “We knew this would happen eventually.”
“Yes, but on our terms. When we were ready.”
“Were we ever going to be?”
Ben stiffens against her, forcing her to pull back to read the downcast expression falling over his face. Reaching up, she twines their hands together, resting them over his heart.
“I knew what I agreed to, the day I found out who you are. I knew what I would have to give up.”
Ben shakes his head, as if denying the truth of her words. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to give up your life for me. It’s not -“
“I love you.” She replies, cutting him off before he can spiral any further. “It’s not about what’s right or what’s fair. It’s about you and me. No, I don’t want to be plastered all over the front of every newspaper, but if that’s the price I have to pay to wake up beside you, then so be it.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Rey. You don’t know how bad it can be.”
“I know I’ll have you.” She insists, pressing her lips to their clasped hands. “I’ll have my best friend.”
Tears cascade down Ben’s face, his lips quivering as he scans over her face. “What if I’m not enough?”
That he still has to ask breaks her heart. She offers nothing he couldn’t have found in a million other girls, all less broken and battered than she. Yet he wants her. He loves her.
He, with his gentle words, his handsome smiles and his darkly hilarious turns of phrase. He, who showed up in her life unannounced yet managed far too quickly to stake his stay. He, who thought he had to lie about his destiny for fear that she wouldn’t want him. Who stayed, when no one else ever had, to remind her that she doesn’t have to be something she’s not. Who tells her everyday that she is enough. More than enough. She’s the one he wants. Just her. Just Rey.
That he could ever dream she wouldn’t feel the same is unconscionable. It makes her sick.
She untagles their hands briefly, moving to cradle his face. “You are, Ben.” She promises. “You always have been, and you always will be.”
His lip quivers as his eyes scour her expression, searching for any hint of hesitation. He’ll find none, she knows. There isn’t a grain of it to be found. He’s it for her. Her last and her only. Let the tabloids tear her apart. She knows he’ll be there to put her back together again.
“I don’t deserve you, you know.” He says, brushing his hand through her hair.
“Tell me that again the next time I cook dinner, and maybe I’ll believe you.” She grins, wrapping her arms around his waist, laughing at the playful grimace that crosses his face before he leans down to kiss her.
His phone starts ringing the moment their movements grow heated, “God Save the Queen” unironically blasting through the room. Ben groans as he pulls away, crossing the room to dig his phone out from the depths of the couch.
“How’d it end up down there?” Rey smirks, crossing her arms as she leans back against the entertainment center.
“I threw it.” He replies flatly before whipping the device up to his ear with a gruff “Hello?”
Rey’s spent enough time with Ben’s mother to know two things are unquestionably true: She loves her husband and son very much and she absolutely does not take their bullshit. If the look on Ben’s face is any indication, the latter represents her current mood.
He opens his mouth every few seconds, only to shut it and flinch. “I know, Mom.” He says finally, looking up and meeting her eyes across the room. “Believe me, I’ll never stop.”
He nods a few more times before mumbling “Okay. I love you too” and dropping the phone to his side.
“We’ve been summoned.”
Rey frowns. “We?”
Ben crosses the room, wrapping an arm around her shoulder before leaning down and grabbing her purse. “Oh yes.” He says as he kisses her forehead. “You’re in this for real now, Sweetheart.”
♚♛♚
Technically she has been to the palace before.
Admittedly she snuck in through a side entrance and up a set of servants stairs before proceeding to get absolutely railed by the Crown Prince against his bedroom window overlooking the courtyard gardens.
But she has been here.
Technically.
Nevertheless, there is a certain thrill to entering the hallowed halls of Aldera Palace hand in hand with said Crown Prince, welcomed in the front doors by a slew of footmen before being intercepted by an Assistant Private Secretary and ushered down the ornate hallways toward what was quite possibly her impending doom.
“We all hate the palace.” Ben told her one night as he sautéed onions over her ancient stove. “Mom doesn’t have much of a choice, but Dad and I try to spend as little time as we can inside that prison.”
Now Rey doesn’t have a lot of experience with prisons, per se. But if the legal dramas Finn likes to watch are anything to go by, Aldera Palace doesn’t seem like a half bad place to be locked away.
She understands his point though. While the elegant staircases and world famous works of art may sparkle and gleam enough to inspire visitors to wistfully daydream of a life spent wandering these very halls, they hardly make for a home. He’d taken her to his real childhood home, Organa House, a few times now. The opulent gardens and marble façade still scream royalty, but there is warmth inside those walls, decorated with family pictures framing the fond memories of summers by the sea. This place, on the other hand, is the seat of the business end of the bargain, and she has a strong suspicion she is about to find out what exactly the contract entails.
♚♛♚
By the time they come to a stop at their destination, Rey is utterly overwhelmed by the whole scene. Two more velvet clad footmen appear seemingly out of nowhere to open what must be the largest set of doors Rey has ever seen. The room beyond is ostensibly a sitting room, though it is unquestionably larger than anywhere Rey has ever lived. Her eyes take it all in before she catches Ben bowing at her side, spurring her into a practiced curtsy, and the next thing she knows she’s being enveloped into the arms of Her Majesty.
“Rey, darling, it’s good to see you. I’m terribly sorry about the nonsense today. How are you feeling?”
“Hi.” Rey sputters, blushing profusely. “I’m fine, really. I’m so sorry for causing all this trouble.”
“Nonsense!” The Queen declares, stepping back with a swat of her hand. “If anything, you’ve saved me from an odious session with the Prime Minister.”
The Queen’s Private Secretary, a spindly man by the name of Sir Threepio, clears his throat loudly, drawing up her gaze to find Prince Han clapping the man firmly on the shoulder. “Come on, you old clack, you know you live for this stuff.”
Her brow furrows as she glances at Ben, who takes her hand and squeezes as he leans down to kiss his mother hello. Han joins them next, gripping Ben’s hand in a firm shake before turning to press a kiss to Rey’s cheek. “I’ve gotta say, kids, you sure do know how to make an announcement. Goldilocks over here has just about had himself a stroke.”
Sir Threepio shot stick straight. “Your Royal Highness will forgive me for…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Han cut the poor man off flippantly, taking Rey by the arm and guiding her to a seat. “You’re just doing your job. I know.”
She’s engulfed by an enormous armchair fit for two, Ben taking a seat on the edge of her armrest rather than joining her, wrapping an arm loosely around her shoulders to pull her against his side.
“Alright everyone.” He starts, his hands twisting along the edges of her hair in a nervous tell. “We’re here. The word is out. I want Rey protected.”
He must’ve expected push back, for he is clearly startled when his mother nods, sits back, and starts listing off media plans and security options like there was never a question on the matter.
“Now the last thing I want is to push you two toward anything you aren’t ready for. However the fact remains that we are not able to provide full security on the taxpayer dime to anyone who is not an official member of the family. Which leaves you with a few options. One, which I have no doubt you will hate, is that you move back in here, Ben. This will free up the funds currently going toward your flat across town, which can be repurposed to Rey’s security. It won’t be enough to cover everything, but it’s a start.”
Ben, to his credit, doesn’t so much as flinch at the suggestion.
“The next option would be for you to move in together.” Leia says matter of factly, and this time, Ben does jerk back.
“You’d allow that?”
Leia levels her son with a look so put out that Rey struggles not to laugh. “How antiquated do you think I am?”
“Not you he’s worried about.” Han mutters from her side, looking pointedly at Sir Threepio.
“I didn’t think that would be an option, before we were married.” Ben says, and lord help her if her heart doesn’t burst open at the implication. “Doesn’t it go against some kind of ancient rule?”
“There has been a long precedent of not allowing unmarried partners to formally reside together for numerous reasons.” Sir Threepio pipes in, put upon as ever. “In addition to the duty of the heir to produce legitimate offspring and to set a good example of family values, there is also the matter of ensuring such a duty is taken seriously. That any person brought into the family will not just as quickly be leaving it.”
Rey understands what Sir Threepio was saying. Really she does. But it doesn’t dull the sting any less.
“Be that as it may.” Queen Leia replies before Rey can sink into her pity party, “Ben has never so much as mentioned another girl, much less asked to bring one home for Christmas. He has never shown himself to be anything but entirely serious about his relationship with Rey. Which is why I am perfectly happy to allow a break with precedent in this case. If, of course, Rey is alright with it.”
She freezes, her heart beating so rapidly she’s certain the entire room can hear. She feels Ben’s hand reach around hers, squeezing in that reassuring way of his.
“You don’t have to agree to this.” He murmurs, leaning down to look her in the eyes imploringly. “Moving in with me shouldn’t be a matter of safety. I am perfectly happy moving back in here. We can get you…”
“No.” She says, shaking her head rapidly. “No, I don’t want you to. I…”
She looks around the room. Han is leaning back in his seat, a grin teasing the corner of his mouth. The Queen is watching them, patient and kind as ever. It’s only Sir Threepio who looks remotely put out by the whole thing, and she doesn’t much care what he thinks in the grand scheme of things.
Turning back to her beloved she says, “I want to live with you, Ben. Of course I do.”
Ben frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, you big dummy.” She says, poking him in the chest. “I didn’t think we’d be making this decision in front of your parents, but I am sure.”
“To be fair.” Han pipes in with a wry grin, “He also decided to tell you he was a prince by foisting the Queen at your feet. His track record isn’t strong.”
“Han!”
“Dad!”
“Just calling it like I see it.” Han shrugs, ignoring his bewildered family as he crosses over to her arm chair and places a hand on both of their shoulders. “Just do us all a favor and keep the engagement to yourselves, eh?”
Rey can’t stop herself from giggling as Han shoots her a wink and turns to the doors, clearly dubbing the meeting at an end.
“I’m sorry about him.” Queen Leia says with a long suffering sigh, rising from her seat with elegant grace. She hands Sir Threepio a stack of papers before walking their way, smiling down at her wayward son and the woman the whole world now knows he loves. “I’d apologize for my son as well, but I trust he’s learned to grovel from the best.”
She presses a kiss to Ben’s head before leaning down to squeeze Rey’s hand, and then she too exits the room with Sir Threepio on her tail, leaving her alone with Ben once more.
“Well.” She says, leaning back to look up at her boyfriend with a fiendish grin. “You’re really stuck with me now, Roomie.”
Ben stares at her for a moment, as if in a daze. Then, with an equally mischievous smile, he tackles her to the ground. Her shrieks of glee quickly evolve into far less appropriate sounds, and somewhere in the back of her very preoccupied hindbrain she prays the ridiculous doors are truly as thick as they look.