Chapter Text
BANG BANG BANG
Prince Ben Solo of House Organa groaned from his four-poster bed, his dark hair disheveled against the silk pillows. The insistent knocking echoed through his private chambers like thunder.
"Dammit," he muttered, reluctantly extricating himself from the warmth of his bed. He glanced back at the blonde woman who watched him with sleepy, inviting eyes—a barmaid he'd met at the Falcon's Rest the night before. Her name escaped him, but her company had been... pleasant.
"I'll be back, darling," he said with a roguish wink, pulling on his breeches with practiced efficiency.
The knocking persisted. Ben strode to the ornate door and yanked it open, his scowl deepening at the sight of Mitaka trembling in the hallway. The house servant's uniform was immaculate as always, but sweat beaded on his pale forehead.
"What do you want?" Ben demanded, his voice sharp with irritation.
Mitaka's hands shook as he clutched a sealed envelope bearing the royal seal. "Y-Your Highness, forgive the intrusion, but Her Majesty the Queen has summoned you. She requests your immediate presence in the throne room."
Ben glanced over his shoulder at the blonde, who had pulled the sheet up to barely cover herself, pouting prettily at the interruption.
"Can you tell her I'll be there in an hour?" Ben asked, turning back to Mitaka with barely concealed annoyance.
"I'm afraid not, Your Highness," Mitaka stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her Majesty was quite... explicit in her instructions. She said if you do not come immediately, she will retrieve you herself."
Ben's jaw tightened. He knew his mother well enough to understand this wasn't an idle threat. Queen Leia Organa might rule the greatest empire in the world, but when she wanted something done, she had no qualms about doing it herself—servants or no servants.
"Fine," Ben sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'll be there. Let me get dressed properly."
He shut the door and turned back to the blonde, who was now sitting up in bed, the sheet strategically draped around her curves.
"Sorry, cutie, but it looks like I'll have to attend to my royal duties," he said, reaching for his white linen shirt.
"Aww, but my prince," she purred, stretching languidly, "I'm here and ready for you." She posed with practiced seduction, hoping to entice him back to bed.
Ben shook his head, buttoning his shirt with swift, efficient movements. "My apologies, but sadly, my mother reigns above all other women." He pulled on his navy velvet waistcoat and straightened his cravat in the mirror.
The blonde pouted, but Ben was already moving toward the door. He paused with his hand on the ornate handle and glanced back with that same roguish smile.
"Perhaps we can meet up later," he said with another wink before stepping into the corridor, leaving her alone with promises as empty as his bed would soon be.
The throne room doors groaned open as Ben strode through, his boots echoing against the marble floors. Queen Leia sat regally upon her gilded throne, but her expression was one of utter boredom as she watched him approach. She stifled a yawn behind her gloved hand.
"Bennett," she began, using his formal name with deliberate emphasis, "please tell me you aren't slumming yourself with random women again. I would very much like my first grandchild to not be a bastard, at the very least."
Ben rolled his eyes dramatically. "Mother, I have no interest in sharing my activities with you."
"It doesn't matter anyway," Leia said with a dismissive wave, "as your betrothal has finally been arranged. Your bride-to-be will be arriving in a few days."
Ben's eyes widened in shock. His mother had been threatening him with marriage arrangements since he was sixteen, but he was twenty-three now. He'd almost thought she'd given up on the idea entirely.
"Who is it?" he asked warily, dreading the answer.
"She is the granddaughter of the Duke of Naboo."
Ben's face crumpled in disgust. He remembered meeting the Duke years ago—a pompous, greedy man he'd taken an instant dislike to.
"Really, Mother? You're going to marry me off to that disgusting creature's spawn? Was there no one else more worthy?"
"Oh, shush," Leia said, waving her hand again. "Trust me, I have searched and spoken to many candidates, and most of them are just so greedy to get their bloodline on the throne. I didn't even realize the Duke had a granddaughter until recently. And while I have no love for the Duke, I did promise to play fair and meet with her. She's a lovely little thing—thank goodness she isn't like her grandfather at all. I suppose it helps that she was raised mostly by servants at the keep, away from his influence, as he traveled often."
Ben rolled his eyes again.
"You need to behave when they arrive," Leia continued sternly, "and treat her properly. She's such a sweet girl."
Ben cocked an eyebrow at this unexpected praise from his usually cynical mother.
The days passed with agonizing slowness until finally, the ornate carriage bearing the crest of Naboo rolled up the cobblestone drive. Ben waited by the grand entrance, his hands clasped behind his back, watching with barely concealed dread.
The Duke emerged first—exactly as pompous and self-important as Ben remembered. His elaborate purple robes rustled as he approached with an oily smile.
"Ah, my Prince!" the Duke exclaimed, bowing with exaggerated flourish. "What a joyous union this shall be!"
The Duke turned back toward the carriage and barked harshly, "Get out of that damn carriage already, Reyna!"
Ben heard an indignant huff from within the carriage before the door burst open. A small figure jumped out, clutching her dress with both hands to keep from tripping. She walked toward them with puffed-out cheeks, clearly annoyed by her grandfather's rudeness.
She looked up at Ben with fierce hazel eyes and glared at him defiantly.
"Hello, future husband," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm despite her youth.
Ben stared at the girl. He stared and stared, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.
She was a child. A kriffing child!
His bride-to-be couldn't be more than twelve years old.
"What is the meaning of this, Mother?!" Ben's voice thundered through Queen Leia's private chambers. "She's a kriffing child! You're expecting me to have a child-bride?!"
His outraged shouts carried beyond the heavy oak doors, causing the servants in the corridor to scatter like startled mice, pretending they hadn't heard the Prince's scandalous words.
"Ben, calm down," Leia said with infuriating composure, seated behind her writing desk as if discussing the weather. "I know what this seems like—"
"DO YOU NOW?" Ben roared back, his face flushed with anger.
Leia regarded him coolly. "This is an opportunity for us to take the child in and mold her to our ways and customs, without the influence of the Duke's corruption and greed. She'll be raised properly here."
Ben shook his head in disbelief. "This is absolutely insane! I will NOT bed a child!"
Leia cringed slightly at his crude language. "Of course not, Ben. I wouldn't have thought you would. The... consummation can wait until she comes of age at sixteen."
Ben shook his head and pretended to gag at the very thought.
"Stop being so dramatic," Leia sighed. "And of course, you would have to gain Reyna's consent as well. Just because she turns sixteen doesn't mean she'll automatically be willing. It's not as if you haven't bedded anyone since you were sixteen yourself." She rolled her eyes at his theatrics.
Ben ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "If I'm to marry her, I will at the very least take a mistress. You cannot possibly expect me to just... wait until she bleeds."
Leia snorted indelicately. "She already bleeds. I've been informed by her servants that she can bear children."
Ben's face went pale, then green. "Oh God... a child with a... child!"
"Worry not, my dear," Leia said with a dismissive wave. "You can keep your mistresses." She sighed heavily. "But I do expect an heir eventually."
The grand dining hall felt cavernous around the small party seated at one end of the massive mahogany table. Rey fidgeted with the lace trim of her dress, the formal gown feeling foreign and restrictive compared to the simple frocks she wore at the keep.
SMACK
The Duke's hand struck hers sharply, causing her to jerk back from the fabric she'd been worrying between her fingers.
"Reyna, sit properly," he hissed under his breath.
Queen Leia, ever the gracious hostess, smiled diplomatically. "I'm so glad you had safe travels to reach us, Your Grace. The roads can be treacherous this time of year."
"Of course, Your Majesty," the Duke replied with an oily smile. "Nothing would prevent us from this momentous occasion. The union of our houses will surely—"
Rey tuned out the adult conversation, her attention drifting to her so-called betrothed sitting across from her. Ben lifted his spoon with practiced elegance, sipping his soup with the refined manners of someone born to privilege. She watched, fascinated by the differences between them.
Deciding to try the soup herself, Rey dipped her spoon into the rich, creamy broth. It was delicious—far better than the simple broths she'd grown accustomed to at the keep. She savored each spoonful while the Duke and Queen continued their political discourse.
Her gaze wandered back to Ben, who now looked thoroughly bored, stirring his bowl absently and stifling a yawn behind his free hand.
Their eyes met suddenly. She stared. He stared back.
Ben raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Rey raised hers in response, mimicking his expression.
Then she smirked—a mischievous glint entering her hazel eyes—and flicked her spoon, sending a small spray of soup directly at him.
"What the—!" Ben sputtered, soup droplets decorating his pristine white shirt.
"Are you two playing with your food?" Leia asked, looking between them with exasperation. "My goodness, Ben, it seems like you're the one who's twelve here."
Ben growled at his mother while Rey dissolved into giggles, her hand pressed over her mouth to muffle the sound.
"What was that for, brat?" Ben asked as they were both dismissed from the dining hall by his mother.
Rey giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, my apologies, my dear betrothed. Did I ruin your shirt?"
Ben rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration. "Great. You're a troublemaker too, I see."
Rey looked around the ornate hallway, taking in the gilded frames and marble statues before turning back to Ben. "So... where is your room?"
Ben raised an eyebrow at the unexpected question.
"I'm going to live here with you when we marry, so where is your room?" she asked matter-of-factly.
Ben groaned audibly. "I'd rather not have a child in my bedroom."
Rey huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. "I will be your wife one day. I just want to know where I'll be sleeping, is all."
Ben scratched his hair, looking decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation. "Why don't we just start small... maybe I can show you our stables first? Do you ride?"
Rey's eyes widened with genuine excitement. "I love horses! But no, my grandfather doesn't allow me to ride."
Ben grumbled under his breath as he began leading her down the corridor toward the back of the palace. "Well, you should be fine riding here. I can teach you if you want."
Her eyes grew even wider, and she stopped walking altogether. "Really? You... would?"
Ben looked down at her as they resumed their pace, raising an eyebrow at her surprised tone. "Uh, yes? I mean, child or not, I would think it would be nice if my future queen consort knew how to ride a horse."
At this, Rey beamed at him with the first genuinely happy smile he'd seen from her since her arrival.
Maybe her betrothed wasn't so bad after all.
The scent of hay and leather filled the air as Ben led Rey through the arched entrance of the royal stables. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating rows of magnificent horses in their spacious stalls.
"These are our horses," Ben said, his voice taking on a warmer tone than she'd heard before. "We keep quite a few, but these three are the ones I use most often." He gestured to three impressive stallions. "Silence, Whisperer, and Grimtaash."
Rey's eyes were wide with wonder as she took in each beautiful animal, but Ben wasn't finished with his tour.
"And this," he said, stopping at a stall housing an older, grey mare with gentle eyes, "is Milly. She was my father's horse."
Rey was practically vibrating with excitement, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. "Can I... can I touch them?"
"Sure, go ahead," Ben said with an encouraging nod.
Rey reached out tentatively toward Milly, but at the last second, fear overtook her and she jerked her hand back with a small gasp.
Ben chuckled softly. "Don't worry, they're very tame and won't bite."
He extended his hand toward her, palm up. Rey looked at his hand, then up at his face, uncertainty flickering in her hazel eyes. She wasn't sure if she could trust him yet, but something in his expression seemed genuine.
Slowly, she placed her small hand in his much larger one. Ben gently guided her hand to Milly's soft grey muzzle, and the mare nickered contentedly at the touch.
Rey's face lit up with pure joy. "This is the first time I've ever been this close to a horse!" she exclaimed, then her expression grew more subdued. "Usually I'm kept in the keep for long hours and not allowed to leave. I only ever saw horses from the windows."
Ben's brow furrowed with something that might have been sympathy. "That sounds incredibly boring."
"It was," Rey admitted quietly.
"Well, you can come play with the horses anytime you want now," Ben said, surprising himself with the sincerity in his voice.
"When will I learn to ride them?" Rey asked eagerly, her eyes bright with hope.
Ben hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, we'll see. Maybe... perhaps after we wed, I can show you how to ride properly."
For the first time since she'd heard of her betrothal, Rey felt a flutter of something that might have been excitement about getting married.
Ben continued the tour, leading Rey through his mother's favorite gardens. The afternoon sun cast everything in golden light as Rey moved from flower to flower like a delighted butterfly, bending down to smell each bloom she encountered.
"Oh, they're so beautiful!" she exclaimed, burying her nose in a particularly fragrant rose.
By the fifth flower, her enthusiastic sniffing caught up with her, and she let out a loud sneeze that made her stumble backward slightly.
Ben found himself smiling fondly at the little girl's unbridled joy over something as simple as flowers. When had he last been so easily delighted by anything?
"Your Highness!" came the unmistakable voice of Lord Threepio, the Queen's royal chamberlain, as he approached with his usual stiff gait. "Her Majesty is summoning you both."
Ben glanced up, surprised to see the sun beginning to set behind the palace walls. He hadn't realized how much time he'd spent with the little duchess.
They made their way back inside, where Queen Leia waited in her sitting room with an expression of barely contained excitement.
"The Duke and I have decided that we may begin planning for the wedding," she announced without preamble. "I've already alerted my servants to start purchasing supplies and writing letters to our guests."
"That's way too soon, Mother," Ben protested.
But Rey beamed up at the Queen with sparkling eyes. "When will we be wed?"
Leia chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm. "With how efficiently my servants work, it should be by the end of this month."
Ben sighed heavily at this news.
Later, as Ben escorted Rey to the guest bedroom where she'd be staying, she pouted and dragged her feet.
"I want to see my real bedroom," she said with a sulky expression.
"Real bedroom?" Ben asked, confused.
"Yes, the one where we'll both be sleeping in!" Rey declared matter-of-factly.
Ben shook his head firmly. "Dear little duchess, I can't show you that yet. After all, we aren't wed yet."
Rey crossed her arms. "Fine, so be it. You probably have it all in a mess anyway."
"You're a little brat, aren't you?" Ben growled, though there was no real heat in his voice.
Rey stuck out her tongue at him and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her with a fit of giggles echoing from within.