For trope_bingo
Apr. 29th, 2020 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: In Cycles
Summary: Rey and Finn become parents.
Prompt: Future Fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It’s sometime during the pregnancy that Rey starts having nightmares. Nightmares that seem all too real, actually — nightmares about her grandfather, and his laugh. That sort of laugh that haunted her nightmares as a girl, even though she didn’t know what it meant. That sort of laugh, that rang in her ears long after she woke up. She dreams about that moment when Ben faded away before her, and even though Ben’s back now, with Poe, it doesn’t make it any less scary, just knowing that it all happened.
She wakes, trembling in the dark, and it takes a while for her to realize that she’s not on Jakku in her strange little AT-ST, but with Finn, who’s also awake and does his best to comfort Rey even though he’s probably had nightmares too.
They talk about their nightmares. Finn’s reliving his training in the First Order — even though he doesn’t know who his parents were, he’s scared that somehow their child will go through the same agony that he did. If the remnants of the First Order might try to start something. Repeat the cycle.
(Rey wonders if it’s the case over the course of the galaxy. Jolee Bindo said that tyrants rise and fall, but it’s hardly a comfort to her. It seems like the galaxy’s caught in a cycle of abuse, and they have to be the ones to break it)
Rey tells him about her nightmares. They comfort each other, in the dark, before they fall back asleep.
***
Rey finds her father’s holocron. It’s Ben who gives it to her, something that he managed to recover from one of the junk traders on Jakku (with a bit of the Jedi Mind Trick involved). “You deserve it,” he says. “I did...mislead you about your parents. I did all sorts of terrible things to you. I hope this is a first step.”
“A peace offering?” Rey says.
“Of sorts,” Ben says.
Rey feels a tug of affection towards her cousin. “You’ve done a lot for me,” she says.
“Still.”
Rey sits with Finn, listening to her father’s messages — a red and glowing Sith holocron is more comforting, warmer than it has any right to be. Seeing her father expressing his terror at having a little girl — and the joy of it.
Trias. That was his name. Apparently, the scientist who created him had considered the names “Triocolus” and “Ken” — Rey is glad that the scientist didn’t go with that. They’re terrible names.
She watches as images play out across the recording. Trias, explaining to Nerys (Rey’s mother) what a Sith holocron is. “It’s something that Jedi and Sith alike use to store knowledge,” he says. “I thought I would keep these memories there. For both of us.”
Later, a baby Rey trying to grab the holocron, and Trias actually laughing — it’s one of those glorious moments where Rey hears her father actually laughing. “Rey, careful with that!” Nerys is also laughing, and Rey’s giggling so brightly. Her baby self looks so innocent and tiny; it’s hard to think what will come later.
Naming Days. Discoveries. Teaching moments, for finding things and repairing things and plenty more. Her father, tying her hair up in the three buns that stuck. Her mother, telling her Jakku folklore at bedtime, her father regaling her with stories that, Rey remembers, made her want to have her own lightsaber so badly. She listens, tears in her eyes. They could have been happy, their strange unconventional family, if not for Ochi. If not for Palpatine.
“Rey.” Finn’s voice is soft. “Are you okay?”
“It wasn’t fair,” Rey says. She sounds so young, not like a woman of twenty but like a little girl. “It didn’t have to be this way...”
“I know,” Finn says.
“And...and we’ve got to break the cycle. We’ve got to make sure that what happened to Ben, to me, to you, to Poe and everyone, doesn’t happen again."
Finn takes her hand. To think that she was even unused to the concept of help when she first left Jakku. “We will, Rey,” he says.
***
Their daughter is born. It’s a trial, Finn looking terrified and gripping her hand tightly, but it’s worth it when their daughter emerges. Her skin, a lighter brown than Finn’s, but brown all the same. Her hair, thick and brown like Rey's — a full head of hair, Rey realizes as the medical droid hands her her daughter. She’s beautiful, Rey thinks. So beautiful. So small, but with such a promise of strength to come.
“Oh, Ri’ia.” Rey’s voice cracks. “She’s beautiful.”
Finn walks over towards her, his usually mellow demeanor seeming like it’s about to crack and reveal the vulnerabilities underneath. “She’s small,” he says in wonder, smoothing a lock of brown hair away from the baby’s head. The baby stirs, and that toothless grin is more than worth it, just to see.
“I know,” Rey says. “I don’t know her name. Except...” A beat. “What if we called her Nerys? Nerys Skywalker?”
“Not a bad idea,” Finn says. “I like it.”
Ben and Poe visit later, along with Rose and Jannah, Zorii and Jess. They’re terrified — terrified that she was in a lot of pain. Rey doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to that feeling.
***
They’re not prepared for being parents. Rey was a scavenger, Finn a stormtrooper. They’re not always prepared to watch Nerys playing and realize how vulnerable they both were. But Rey loves her, Finn loves her. Even as she learns to put words together, Rey can’t help but be proud of her.
They’re out at the rebuilt Academy, three years later. Nerys is three, Finn twenty-seven and Rey twenty-three, and Rey is holding her daughter’s hand while she’s gathering flowers. Not far away, Ben’s telling his and Poe’s daughter, Leia, about the history of the Academy (now rebuilt). Next to him, Rose and Jannah’s daughter, Paige, is playing with Rose’s pendant. Zorii’s playing with her and Jess' daughter, Nellith (after a friend of Zorii’s. Poe had joked about Zorii naming her daughter after him, only for Zorii to shoot that suggestion down).
Nerys picks the flowers and Rey takes them from Nerys’ hand. “Oh, Nerys,” Rey says, beaming, “They’re beautiful.”
Nerys grins broadly. Three years old and she has her father’s smile. “Pretty flowers, Mama!”
“They are,” Rey says. She squats down and kisses the top of Nerys’ head. “They’re symbols of hope. Everything that gets destroyed comes back.”
Nerys nods. Rey doesn’t know what she’ll tell Nerys, about Uncle Ben and Uncle Poe, Aunt Rose and Aunt Jannah and Aunt Zorii and Aunt Jess. About Rey and Finn themselves. She supposed that they’ll figure it out when Nerys gets older.
She’ll tell a story. That’s what Rey will do. A story about war and struggle — but also hope and renewal. And the cycle will be broken. It’s starting right now.
Summary: Rey and Finn become parents.
Prompt: Future Fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It’s sometime during the pregnancy that Rey starts having nightmares. Nightmares that seem all too real, actually — nightmares about her grandfather, and his laugh. That sort of laugh that haunted her nightmares as a girl, even though she didn’t know what it meant. That sort of laugh, that rang in her ears long after she woke up. She dreams about that moment when Ben faded away before her, and even though Ben’s back now, with Poe, it doesn’t make it any less scary, just knowing that it all happened.
She wakes, trembling in the dark, and it takes a while for her to realize that she’s not on Jakku in her strange little AT-ST, but with Finn, who’s also awake and does his best to comfort Rey even though he’s probably had nightmares too.
They talk about their nightmares. Finn’s reliving his training in the First Order — even though he doesn’t know who his parents were, he’s scared that somehow their child will go through the same agony that he did. If the remnants of the First Order might try to start something. Repeat the cycle.
(Rey wonders if it’s the case over the course of the galaxy. Jolee Bindo said that tyrants rise and fall, but it’s hardly a comfort to her. It seems like the galaxy’s caught in a cycle of abuse, and they have to be the ones to break it)
Rey tells him about her nightmares. They comfort each other, in the dark, before they fall back asleep.
***
Rey finds her father’s holocron. It’s Ben who gives it to her, something that he managed to recover from one of the junk traders on Jakku (with a bit of the Jedi Mind Trick involved). “You deserve it,” he says. “I did...mislead you about your parents. I did all sorts of terrible things to you. I hope this is a first step.”
“A peace offering?” Rey says.
“Of sorts,” Ben says.
Rey feels a tug of affection towards her cousin. “You’ve done a lot for me,” she says.
“Still.”
Rey sits with Finn, listening to her father’s messages — a red and glowing Sith holocron is more comforting, warmer than it has any right to be. Seeing her father expressing his terror at having a little girl — and the joy of it.
Trias. That was his name. Apparently, the scientist who created him had considered the names “Triocolus” and “Ken” — Rey is glad that the scientist didn’t go with that. They’re terrible names.
She watches as images play out across the recording. Trias, explaining to Nerys (Rey’s mother) what a Sith holocron is. “It’s something that Jedi and Sith alike use to store knowledge,” he says. “I thought I would keep these memories there. For both of us.”
Later, a baby Rey trying to grab the holocron, and Trias actually laughing — it’s one of those glorious moments where Rey hears her father actually laughing. “Rey, careful with that!” Nerys is also laughing, and Rey’s giggling so brightly. Her baby self looks so innocent and tiny; it’s hard to think what will come later.
Naming Days. Discoveries. Teaching moments, for finding things and repairing things and plenty more. Her father, tying her hair up in the three buns that stuck. Her mother, telling her Jakku folklore at bedtime, her father regaling her with stories that, Rey remembers, made her want to have her own lightsaber so badly. She listens, tears in her eyes. They could have been happy, their strange unconventional family, if not for Ochi. If not for Palpatine.
“Rey.” Finn’s voice is soft. “Are you okay?”
“It wasn’t fair,” Rey says. She sounds so young, not like a woman of twenty but like a little girl. “It didn’t have to be this way...”
“I know,” Finn says.
“And...and we’ve got to break the cycle. We’ve got to make sure that what happened to Ben, to me, to you, to Poe and everyone, doesn’t happen again."
Finn takes her hand. To think that she was even unused to the concept of help when she first left Jakku. “We will, Rey,” he says.
***
Their daughter is born. It’s a trial, Finn looking terrified and gripping her hand tightly, but it’s worth it when their daughter emerges. Her skin, a lighter brown than Finn’s, but brown all the same. Her hair, thick and brown like Rey's — a full head of hair, Rey realizes as the medical droid hands her her daughter. She’s beautiful, Rey thinks. So beautiful. So small, but with such a promise of strength to come.
“Oh, Ri’ia.” Rey’s voice cracks. “She’s beautiful.”
Finn walks over towards her, his usually mellow demeanor seeming like it’s about to crack and reveal the vulnerabilities underneath. “She’s small,” he says in wonder, smoothing a lock of brown hair away from the baby’s head. The baby stirs, and that toothless grin is more than worth it, just to see.
“I know,” Rey says. “I don’t know her name. Except...” A beat. “What if we called her Nerys? Nerys Skywalker?”
“Not a bad idea,” Finn says. “I like it.”
Ben and Poe visit later, along with Rose and Jannah, Zorii and Jess. They’re terrified — terrified that she was in a lot of pain. Rey doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to that feeling.
***
They’re not prepared for being parents. Rey was a scavenger, Finn a stormtrooper. They’re not always prepared to watch Nerys playing and realize how vulnerable they both were. But Rey loves her, Finn loves her. Even as she learns to put words together, Rey can’t help but be proud of her.
They’re out at the rebuilt Academy, three years later. Nerys is three, Finn twenty-seven and Rey twenty-three, and Rey is holding her daughter’s hand while she’s gathering flowers. Not far away, Ben’s telling his and Poe’s daughter, Leia, about the history of the Academy (now rebuilt). Next to him, Rose and Jannah’s daughter, Paige, is playing with Rose’s pendant. Zorii’s playing with her and Jess' daughter, Nellith (after a friend of Zorii’s. Poe had joked about Zorii naming her daughter after him, only for Zorii to shoot that suggestion down).
Nerys picks the flowers and Rey takes them from Nerys’ hand. “Oh, Nerys,” Rey says, beaming, “They’re beautiful.”
Nerys grins broadly. Three years old and she has her father’s smile. “Pretty flowers, Mama!”
“They are,” Rey says. She squats down and kisses the top of Nerys’ head. “They’re symbols of hope. Everything that gets destroyed comes back.”
Nerys nods. Rey doesn’t know what she’ll tell Nerys, about Uncle Ben and Uncle Poe, Aunt Rose and Aunt Jannah and Aunt Zorii and Aunt Jess. About Rey and Finn themselves. She supposed that they’ll figure it out when Nerys gets older.
She’ll tell a story. That’s what Rey will do. A story about war and struggle — but also hope and renewal. And the cycle will be broken. It’s starting right now.
