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Pride Is For Cowards

Chapter 19: I told you to be patient, I told you to be kind

Summary:

This is it! Who'd have thunk it'd take me this long to finish a fanfic, huh? Even though I have a nagging suspicion I'm too late and those few who followed this has long since grown tired of me and forgotten all about this fic, I still wanted to finish it. I do have an outline of a tros fix it-fic I kind of want to write, for my own peace of mind, but wouldn't be able to do it with Coward out in the universe, unfinished.

I have known for a long time how, and where, I wanted this to end, but when I started to write it and came closer to the end, it left me uncertain. But I did have a plan and I think it best I stick to it, otherwise I could just go on and on, with a new chapter once every ten months, and what would be the point of that.

Chapter title from a song, I think Skinny love by I can't remeber who? When I started writing this chapter, almost a year ago, I guess I listened to it a lot and found it fitting.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text


Ben was standing on the balcony where he, once in a vision, had seen his mother's parents getting married.
Above him the Naboo sun had started it's dramatic descent, soon a million colours would be fighting for dominance in the sky. In the air around him he could feel the slight pressure and reverberation in the Force that told him Rey was closing in.
He hoped she would get here before the sun set. He still held memories from his childhood evenings in this house, of sunsets so spectacular he had been left holding his breath. He wished dearly to be standing next to Rey the first time she experienced it, to see the colours reflected on her face, to see if there would be the same sense of wonder in her eyes, as had been in his. To see the last rays of the setting sun caressing her face just as tenderly as he wished he could be just now.
A huffed out laugh broke free from deep inside his chest.
Rey. What a fitting name.

 

*** a couple of days earlier***

 

Rey has always been good with languages.
She has picked up bits and pieces of different forms of communication here and there, and her mind has always, very helpfully, filled in the rest for her.
Growing up in Niima outpost she can't claim to have met a particularily large number of the different species the galaxy holds, but she's met enough to have picked up on a quite impressive collection of different customs and traditions, in regards to bartering, salesmanship and defusing tense situations.
Maybe it was the Force inside her that helped her in all those situations when she was forced to interact with strangers, her survival dependant on them both taking her seriously and simultaneously not seeing her as a threat or someone easy to take advantage of.
And of course, she learned early on just how useful a big stick and the moment of surprise could be, in any and all situations.

All those skills come in handy now, as the Force can only help her so much when it comes to navigating to the right part of Kashyyyk. For the rest she needs all the pleading and argumentational skills she has in her repertoire to find the home of Chewbacca.

The wookies build entire villages impossibly high up in the giant wroshyr trees that take up most of the equator on this planet. Navigating through trunks as big as battle ships and branches as thick as houses to find the right tree is no easy feat, and once located it takes her several hours to finally find a space to set her ship down, in a somewhat easy distance of the right tribe settlement.

But finally she finds him, and when he sweeps her up off her feet and crushes her deep down in his fluffy fur she feels as though everything might actually end alright for her.


Chewbacca has a wife and two kids, and she never even knew. She feels bad for a moment, but realizes they haven't really spent any sort of down time together, there's always been some or other sort of life or death situation going on, and talking about the life they might have had had it not been for this or that, has never felt proper.
She kinda wishes she had taken the time, though. More than anyone else in the Resistance, Chewie has always had her back. Helped her when she has needed him the most, never questioning her motives or made her feel bad about, well anything, really. Had her life been different and she had grown up with a father, she wishes he would've been like Chewie.

She hopes he'll finally have the time to be that father to the two furballs running around in the treehouse, throwing themselves off the ledge and freefalling before catching a vine or a branch, swinging back up and away into the dense foliage of the giant wroshyr tree that she still can't quite believe houses whole wookie cities, high above the planet's surface.

His wife, Malla, makes stews that are hot, salty, full of surprisingly pleasant musty flavour and crunchy bits she doesn't want to know the species of. She feels so welcome, so cared for, that she keeps on pushing the whole "telling Chewie about Ben" conversation on the future, time after time.

But time is something she has seldom had an abundance of since leaving Jakku. Every minute she pushes The Talk on the future is a minute she could have chipped off from the time spent away from Ben.

Still, it's not until night has long since fallen over Kashyyyk, and the darkness in the village high up from the ground (but still a long way from the top of the tree), would have been pitch black, had it not been for the many giant fire flies that are held captive in cages all over the place. They suss and surr, irate over having been captured. Chewie appeases her discomfort over their incarceration by telling her they tend to burn through their cages in a few days time, and then the wookies has to capture a new one. That's why there's an ever-lingering smell of singed wookie fur in the air.
But you're not here to learn about the customs of my tribe, are you? Chewie asks in an impressively low-key roar.

Rey sighs and wonders what it is about her that makes her so easy to read.
"No, I'm here to talk about..." it's harder than anticipated. She felt so sure of Chewies acceptance earlier, but now the memory of his cries when Han was butchered is unwillingly pulled up to the forefront of her mind. It wouldn't be the first time she wildly misread a situation. Shipping myself off to Kylo Ren because I thought a touch of my fingertips would have been enough to turn him sails up pretty high on that list, making her doubt her ability to make informed decisions.

Chewie makes an encouraging noice and bumps her side with his elbow, forgetting his strength; that they're seated on the edge of a platform several kilometers up in the air; and the fact that Rey has neither a wookies build or lax attitude with deadly hights.

She yelps in terror, and that startles her out of her pause.
"Ben!" she exclaims, and the second after, when she has realised she's not in danger of falling to her death, she repeats, "I'm here to talk about Ben".

The silence isn't exactly encouraging, but nevertheless she continues.

"You know I went to him in the First Order as some sort of bargaining chip from the Resistance, to be held hostage by Kylo, but you've seen what has happened since then, haven't you? With the Order? It's all but gone, we have worked together, Ben and I, to change it from the inside. There's basically nothing left of Snoke's Order, it's not a military machine anymore. It's different. He's different... And we are too. Him and me, I mean. We're different, with each other. To each other. What I'm trying to say is, we're together. With each other... Like, you know, in a 'romantic' kind of way."

The silence she's met with stretches on, and she dare not fill it with anything that will keep him from responding. She needs to give him time, she feels. He'll need to digest before he can react.

After an hour has passed in silence, Rey finally ups and leaves. A sofa has already been prepared for her, and she covers herself with the softest blanket she has ever felt, before blacking out rather than falling asleep.


***


The noice of Malla, tottering about in the kitchen as she's preparing breakfast, wakes her up the next morning.

Slept well? she asks happily, loading a kettle with dried leaves before pouring steaming hot water over it.

"Thank you, yes", Rey croakes out but doesn't have time for any other pleasantries, as Chewie stomps out from his bedroom, and easily pics Rey up from the sofa, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her out.
Behind them she can her Malla giggling.

Fortunately for Rey she's too dazed from just waking up, she doesn't have time to grow afraid of being tossed over the railings and to her squashy doom.

Once outside, Chewbacca sets her down on her feet again, a steady hold on her shoulders as he looks deeply in to her eyes, seemingly searching for something in them, or in her brain maybe.

Rey's still too confused and sleepy to know how to react, but it seems he finds what he hopes to find in her eyes, because a second later he, once again folds her up in his huge arms, crushing her in a hug so filled with love and gratitude and, dare she dream it, acceptance? that she can do nothing but cry in his fur.

***

Not many hours later she's finally on her way. No more stops, no other destinations, just the reunion she has longed for even more fervently than she longed for her parents' as a child.

As the ship hurtles its way through hyperspace, she feels the familiar tingle of the bond spring into being. She swivels the captain's chair around and is rewarded by the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered and black-clad Ben Solo, arms and ankles crossed as he leans against the opening to the cockpit. He looks both too relaxed and too amused, concidering he knows where she's just been and how nervous he confessed to being about her meeting Chewbacca the last time the Force connected them like this.

"Fancy meeting you here, mr. Solo" she says, somewhat apprehensively.

"Yes, we really should stop running into each other like this, ms. ...uhm, Rey..."

She can't help but smile at that. And the fact that he didn't even react to her calling him "mr. Solo".

Rey makes sure all the controls and levers is where they ought to be, before getting out of the chair, walking over to Ben.

"How've you been?" asks Rey as she sneaks a small hand into his larger one. The fact that they can touch like this, through the Force, will never stop amaze both of them.

Maybe we should record everything about our bond, to keep our knowledge and experiences for the future? she thinks, both to herself and as a suggestion for him.

"We probably should. Even though I doubt this could ever happen again, to anyone else" he answers her out loud, as he lifts her hand to his lips to brush her knuckles against their soft plumpness.

She blushes and looks down at her feet, still not used to being shown such overly explicit affection.

"Come" she almost whispers, and then starts to lead him back through the ship, to a place where they can sit down next to each other.

Leaning against a panel, they sit on the floor of the ship, knees touching and hands held in hands. She wants to tell him about what happened with Chewie, and she can tell he dares not ask.

He has had so many disappointments in his life, so for her to be able to offer up something different for once, is rather precious.

"Chewie says hi."
Even though she starts out this small, she can still feel his breath hitch and his heart missing a beat.
"He didn't quite take it as readily as I might have hoped, but he did come around." She pauses to let him digest this for a few seconds, before she can finally offer him up something beautiful.
"He harbours you no resentment. He might loath your actions, but he still loves you. Says he never stopped."
She pauses again, wanting to give him all the time he needs to take it all in. "He told me stories of you as a kid."

Rey can feel her face splitting up in a grin. She had loved to hear tales of mischief little kid Ben and uncle Chewie got up to together.
"He told me of the time the two of you played a prank on Han, switching out the content of his toolbox with jam? And the time Chewie thought it a fun idea to hide in your closet and jump out to scare you when you went to bed one night, and you had a Force panic-reaction that threw him straight through the wall of your closet and in to the bathroom on the other side?"

The body next to her is so still, had she not felt the heat from him she might have thought the connection severed.

She turns to look at him, unable to resist. There are tears falling gracelessly from his eyes, the tip of his nose. His jaw clamped shut with such pressure she can't help but fear for his teeth. She can tell he is holding back shivers and shakes, unwilling to let her see him sobbing like a child.

To gather him up in her arms, cradling him like you would a loved one in distress, is so natural to her now.
Her hand against the back of his neck guides his head down onto her shoulder, where he can bury his face in her scent. She can feel the wetness from his tears and snot, not in the least bit disgusted by it, as she has feared he might have been when their positions have been reversed.

They sit like that for enough time to pass that her neck and tunic is once again dry.

His whispered "Thank you" says a lot more than just "thanks", and she ensures him it's nothing to thank her for.
"But it is", he insists, "you've given me peace of mind. A gift I would have never presumed to be worthy of. So thank you, Rey."

Once again, the sound of her name falling from his lips is like a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings around her heart, a tounge in her ear, a tender caress of her cheek. Every sweet and thrilling emotion all rolled into one. Mindblowing.

"You are very welcome", she pauses before adding his name, hoping to envoke the same kind of response in him.
"Ben".
By the way she can feel his heart stutter, she suspect it does.

Her heart is full of him, of her love for him, and she can see it reciprocated in his eyes. An emotion too powerful to keep in check, to lock down on the inside of too small a vessel.

She can feel it, hear it, even though his thoughts have yet to form, no words have started to roll off his tounge, and she panics, yet again.
Not like this!

Her ending their connection is a reflex, and maybe not as smooth as she wishes that could have been, but she still wants them to physically be on the same spot in the galaxy when they profess their love to oneanother.

She can't explain why that feels so important to her, it just does. She has never heard anyone tell her she's loved, and for some reason she fears she might miss something pivotal if it isn't in true person.

She lets a tendril of her mind sneak across their bond, just to make sure she hasn't freaked him out too bad. From his side of the string connecting them she can't feel anything stronger than confusion and a small bit of dissapointment: nothing that points to him taking her breaking off as a bad sign. He really has come far, hasn't he? To not let his feelings overcome him is a huge thing for him! Rey can't help but feel pride for him. His growth, his maturing. And even though she wouldn't have thought it possible, her love for him grows, even more.

Soon she sends the thought across the stars to him. I'll be with you so soon now. Just a few more hours to wait.

And from his side of the bond, all she can feel is excitement.

***

Ever since he found out she left the Finn/Tico household, bound for Kashyyyk and his honorary uncle, Kylo has had a hard knot in his stomach.
Growing up he seldom saw his parents once he was past his second year of living. Left mostly in the care of droids and a nanny by the name of Winter, he did his best to sneak out from under her watchful eyes and out into the streets of Hannah City, the capital of Chandrilla, which was his homeworld until he was sent away to the Jedi praxeum at Yavin IV.
Since then he hasn't had a fixed place to call his home, and every attempt at finding one has ended in horrible dissapointment.
But he digresses.
What he keeps coming back to, try as he might to avoid it, is how Chewbacca was the one to take him out of the house whenever Han and Leia was back at home, both at the same time, and couldn't keep from screaming at each other.
Even when they where all gathered together like a family, he still was left out. For a young boy who spent most of his days longing for his parents, their coming home was rarely, if ever, a happy occation.
If it hadn't been for Chewie he suspects he would have fallen to the dark side a helluvalot sooner than he did.

When he drove the saber through his father, he didn't think he would ever feel worse about himself, but then he was hit with the shot from Chewies bowcaster, and he realised he had effectively ended two father-son relationships.
Rey letting him know there might be something to salvage there is like balm to his fractured soul.

That she closed the bond on him when she did he finds himself almost thankful for. He understands why she's done it twice now, and it feels like the right thing to do.
He has never told anyone he loves them (to be fair, he hasn't really loved anyone since he was a toddler, so the opportunities has not been plentiful).
To get to love Rey feels like a gift, and he wants to treat it with as much reverence as he has the ability to.
To tell her in person feels like the bare minimum. And if we're being honest, if he has waited for an opportunity such as this for close to thirty years, he can damn well wait a few more hours to do it properly.


It's not too long after that he finds himself out on that balcony, her closeness tingling along his nerves. He mentally checks in on her, can see the dials on the dashboard through her eyes, making the calculations. He is very pleased to come to the conclusion she'll arrive in time for the show of the setting sun.

From her mind he knows that both sunrise and sunset on Jakku was always an orange affair. Not too far in the back of his mind is the hope that the beauty and richness of the Naboo sunset will enthrall her, hypnotise her. Make her want to make this place a home for her, for the both of them.

He lifts his eyes to the sky, finds the tiny speck that is her ship immediately. He keeps his eyes on the speck as it grows into a dot, then a shape and then a ship. He doesn't allow his eyes to leave it until it's parked and Rey disembarks, so he can glue his gaze to her person instead.
The glory of the fast approaching sunset all but forgotten in the face of their, mere seconds away now, reunion.

Soon she is near enough that he can see her face. It's alight with the most beautiful and radiant smile he has ever seen on anyone.

In his chest he can feel the flutter of a thousand blue butterflies, his mind is empty except for the two of them and his heart, for the first time ever, feels light.


Notes:

...and I'm done!
Sorry for the long wait, TROS took more from me than I realised. I couldn't bring myself to care for the characters when it felt like the movie did everything in its power to fuck them all over as much as possible.
But through the awesome power that is fanfiction I've started to slowly switch their turn of events out for more plausible and well written and thought out versions.
(I mean for fucks sake, "somehow the emperor has returned"?? "They sold you cause they loved you"??? "I am all the Sith - I am all the Jedi"??? Come ooooooon!!!! Kriffing asshats.)

Anyway.
I wanted Coward to end here, on Naboo, Ben on the balcony waiting for Rey to come 'home'. The air full of promises and almost giddy anticipation. Their future unwritten and open and only theirs.

Thank you for staying with me for all this time (assuming anyone has).
I will spellcheck at a later time, and maybe even read the whole thing through to check for inaccuracies.
Stay safe and wash your hands!