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A growing cluster of lights in the surrounding darkness greets them as Rey guides the Falcon back to the same village she’d left from that morning, alone. As she sets the ship down in nearly the same spot she’d left, Ben’s hand whispers against her arm, like he can’t keep himself from touching her.
She’s grown used to him haunting her over the years, come to rely on his voice against her ear to ward off the emptiness of space, one that lingers even when she ventures back to the core planets to see her friends. He fits in with the other ghosts on the Falcon, her included. Having him here now is a dream she doesn’t want to wake up from. Without thinking, her hand finds his again once she finishes the shutdown for the ship. His fingers wrap around hers, slightly trembling in her grasp. Warm, sturdy, alive.
They sit there as the hum of the engine fades away, their gazes catching over the narrow gap between their seats. Rey considers staying with him there, perhaps waiting to see if the newness of having the other half of her soul back will ever wear thin. But along with their lives comes all the inconveniences of being alive, and she’s spent too long on ship rations to pass up a planet-side meal when she has the chance, especially one she doesn’t have to make.
The glow of the lights draws them out of the ship, still never quite able to let go of each other, not yet. Rey caught Ben up on the years he missed on the flight back from Exegol, and for the moment, words have run dry as they adjust to the reality of sharing a space once more. Though truly, it’s the first time they’ve been able to be together like this, without themselves and everything else in the galaxy set on tearing them apart.
Aside from the reality of his skin against hers, watching Ben navigate the Falcon helps remind Rey that he’s more than the echoes of their broken bond. He seems almost too big for the curved hallways, which is ridiculous, since she’s seen Chewie navigate them with ease. His ghost never had to duck through doorways or scowl when he nearly trips over a tool she left out from the Falcon’s last repair.
They descend the Falcon’s ramp together and follow the main road into the village, the lights guiding their way. The air outside smells of freshly turned dirt and burning wood, scents so intrinsically planet-bound that they overwhelm the metal and oil remainders of the Falcon. Rey curls an arm around Ben’s waist, tucking their bodies into each other, and his arm wraps around her shoulders. She turns her head to his chest and breathes him in. Even under the mustiness of the spare set of clothes they dug out from the depths of the Falcon’s storage (too tight, they should find him new ones), he smells of space, the void of hyperspace jumps, the crackle of lightning before a strike. She remembers breathing him in when they fought before and how Kylo smelled like leather and burning. She wonders if his scent now is Ben’s, or if the remnants of the other side she pulled him back from still cling to him.
His hand tightens briefly on her shoulder, and she looks up to find him looking down at her, his head cocked, a question in his gaze. She shakes her head, smiling, and runs her hand down his side, squeezing his waist at the end. She hadn’t realized how much she missed touch until she could reach out and find Ben whenever she wanted. Judging by the way he returns every contact he doesn’t start, she thinks he feels the same about her.
“Nothing,” she says out loud, then adds. “You’re here.”
He smiles back, his expression still touched with disbelief, like he expects her to fade from under his hand at any moment. She understands the feeling. “I am,” he says like a promise.
A group of Rodian break them out of the moment as they split around them, obviously hurrying towards the lights and sounds at the center of the village. They interrupt their chatter to wish them “Happy harvest!” over their shoulders as they pass.
Ben watches them go, still smiling. “Some kind of festival today?” he asks as they follow the same road at their slower pace.
Rey nods. “They took in the last of the harvest today. I was here a couple days, navigating, and a few people at the cantina told me about it, after they asked if I was here for harvest. Once the harvest is in, they celebrate the end of the summer months and the beginning of the winter ones. The whole town is lit up with everything they can find for the last night, then the lights burn down by morning, and winter starts.”
Ben makes a soft noise of interest. “This far out, they’d know something about the last light before entering the darkness.”
“Mm,” Rey agrees. “A lot of them scavenge further out for tech, especially after Exegol.” The village doesn’t see many travelers, but she’s far from the only one to pass through, making one last stop before diving fully into the Unknown Regions, the Chaos.
Rey’s happy to keep herself tucked into Ben’s body heat as night’s chill settles fully over them, but as they approach the town center, the warmth from every lit torch and candle in a hollowed-out gourd pushes the worst of the cold away. The streets fill with other couples and families, and their path weaves in and out of them as they reach the edge of the crowd circling the town square.
Ben leans down to brush his lips against her ear. “What’s happening here?”
She shrugs. “Dunno. You hungry?” She doesn’t really need to ask, especially with the smells of fried dough and vegetables filling the air. Rey digs out some credits from a hidden pocket and approaches the closest food cart, one of many along the streets, this one manned by an older twi’lek. She exchanges the chips for as much of the woman’s food as she can carry, Ben helping her when some of her feast threatens to topple over.
She grins up at him. “Those big hands are good for something,” she teases.
He huffs a laugh. “At least one thing,” he agrees.
Their gazes catch, and Rey thinks for a second how good those hands are at holding her and –
Ben’s gaze drops first as his cheeks flush. “What do you want first?” he asks, looking over the food. There’s several different kinds of fried dough, some twisted into intricate knots and dusted with powder, some folded around roasted vegetables and nuts. She also has more of those gourds she’s seen around, these smaller, roasted and stuffed with more nuts and spices.
Rey shrugs. “Surprise me.”
He holds out a fried dough knot, and she bites into it, sweetness and warmth flooding her mouth. She moans at the taste and watches through slitted eyes as Ben’s plush lips part, his darkening gaze locked on her mouth. She has a hand free to feed herself, but it’s a strange kind of decadence having Ben feed her, ready with another treat from a rich harvest every time her mouth is empty. He eats from the same place as her, his bite marks covering hers, and she swears she tastes him in her next bite. Nothing has ever tasted better. She watches him pick out another pastry for her and she knows down to her bones that he’ll never let her go hungry.
As the pile of food fades to crumbs and stickiness on their hands, the crowd tightens around the town square, clearly ready for something to happen. Rey can catch glimpses of the stone-paved center from between the heads of various species as she licks her hands clean of the last of their supper. Ben’s gaze rests heavy on her, and her eyes meet his as her tongue twines between her fingers, chasing down the last bits of sweetness. His eyes darken, and her thighs clench involuntarily. She could do a lot with that gaze.
Tentatively, his hand reaches out to brush a crumb from the corner of her mouth. She turns her head and takes his thumb between her lips, sucking it as cleanly as she did her fingers. Her spit-slick hand curls around his wrist to keep him there. Her tongue wraps around his thumb, licking until all she tastes is the clean saltiness of his skin, with a faint hint of ozone. She grins up at him as his thumb pops free.
“Sweet,” she says.
Ben’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. She steps in closer to him, her chest brushing his and watches as his lips part to answer. Before he can find his words, excited shouts rise from all around them, and both their attention is drawn to finding the source.
Children emerge from the crowd from every direction, a whole range of species and sizes, some toddling with help from those nearly on the edge of adulthood. They all seem to wear the same type of long tunic in bright colors, though many of them have taken the time to roll in the dirt, likely in the newly harvested fields, nearly covering the original color. A smaller group of children in tunics mostly without dirt gather at the center of the square, one holding a carved gourd with a candle aloft. They chant something together, tripping over the words in their excitement, and Rey doesn’t recognize the language.
The end of the chant appears to be a cue to the rest of the children lingering at the edges of the crowd. They rush forward in a messy wave, descending on the central group in a flurry of shrieking laughter. It’s not so much a fight as a general colliding of bodies, children seeking out friends and siblings with high-pitched excitement. The first group valiantly attempts not to be caught, the light in the middle bobbing and weaving in the melee, but eventually, every child has been embraced and the dirt from the fields covers them all. The mass separates and the child with the light, with dirt smudging their cheeks and tunic, raises the gourd and shoults one last word before setting it down in the middle of the square and rushing off with the rest of the children, giggling and screeching into the night.
Ben turns to Rey, his lips curved and eyebrows raised. “A valiant defense by the Light Side.”
She laughs. The crowd has begun to disperse, loud with chatter, and Rey and Ben move with them, filtering away down the side streets. No one seems in a rush to go home, though Rey sees several parents scooping up their wayward children and guiding them away, and Rey feels the night has just begun.
She leans against a wall out of the way from the drifting crowds and pulls Ben with her, grinning up at him as he braces himself over her. “Even the Light Side has setbacks here and there. I still don’t understand all the old Jedi texts, but I think the general idea is that it all balances out in the end.”
Ben rests a hand at her waist and smiles softly down at her. “Is that what this is? What we are? It balances out somewhere?”
She shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like anyone else is going to tell us otherwise.” She settles her hand on his shoulder, fisting his shirt. “I already corrected the universe’s mistake in letting you go.”
Ben bends down until his forehead leans against hers. “My light in the darkness,” he murmurs, curling his arm further around her waist and drawing them together.
She wraps her other arms around his neck and tilts her head up to press a kiss under his jaw. “Mine,” she says simply.
From the muffled sounds along different paths, they’re far from the only couple with this idea. Rey can’t pay any attention to anyone outside the two of them though. Ben has haunted her since before she lost him, and now he’s here, and hers, and nothing else matters.
Ben groans and pins her to the wall. She tastes the need in his kiss, grinds down against him to guide his hardness exactly where she needs it. She’s dreamed about this before, in long lonely nights on the Falcon. She tried not to torture herself with impossibilities during waking hours, but her sleeping mind always had its own ideas, letting her wants run wild without conscious restraint. The reality of his huge, warm body under her hands, reacting to her every touch, is so much headier that she’s grateful she didn’t know exactly what she was missing. She’s good at waiting, but she can’t imagine going without this again.
Still consuming his mouth with hers, she slips her hands down to his neckline and under his shirt, feeling the play of his muscles as he clutches her. A quick pop, and a seam rips, but neither of them care. With quick tugs, Ben pulls her shirt up from her pants and spans his hands across her stomach and back, as if desperate to be touching every part of her at once.
It’s not elegant, exposing each other to their touch. Ben’s shirt is half-shoved, half-ripped out of the way, and his open pants cling to his hips. Rey’s shirt ends up pushed up around her armpits, her breast band tugged down and her wraps shoved to the sides. It’s not as much as either of them want, but in the back of their minds, they’re still aware they’re out in public on a strange planet. Everything else will have to wait for the Falcon, once the edge of their need isn’t quite so sharp.
Rey clutches Ben’s head to her as he licks and bites his way across her chest. Her fingers curl in his hair, tangling the dark locks around her hands, as if they could be entwined like this forever. Right now, it’s hard to see why she should ever let go. One of Ben’s hands caresses the breast abandoned by his mouth, rolling the peaked tip between his fingers, cool and slick in the wake of his tongue, while the other slips between her legs, exploring the dark curls there. She’s held up by his hips and she trusts him to keep her there, even as other material concerns fade away.
His fingers find the wetness between her thighs and she jumps at the first touch. He freezes, and she has to urge him on, digging her nails into his back.
“Yes!” she cries out, her head tossed back against the wall, staring into the midnight sky past the walls above them. “Just like that, Ben. More.”
He follows her guidance, sliding his fingers back and forth along her slick folds, seeking out the spots that have her leaving her marks on his back. He leaves long, open-mouthed kisses on her breast, sucking the tender skin, murmuring thanks and praise against her heart.
On his next path down, she tilts her hips, angling until the tip of his fingers sinks into her entrance, her body eagerly welcoming him and ready for more.
“That’s it, Ben, yes,” she murmurs into his hair, bent over him, the pressure in her core tightening with each trembling inch he sinks further into her.
“Oh, kriff, Rey,” he pants, his forehead pressed tight against her chest, his own chest heaving with the exertion of feeling her from the inside.
She shifts again, taking more of him into her and lets out a shuddering breath with the rightness of it. “Again,” she tells him, voice breaking on a moan as he quickly complies. “Touch me –” His thumb moves and he finds the spot with his fingers sunk deeply into her. She clenches around him, body curving over his, rolling her hips and taking her pleasure from his hand as he keeps giving her more.
“Ben,” she breathes out, as her body breaks over him, holding him to her with everything that she has.
When she can speak again, she uses her hand in his hair to tilt his face up to hers and takes his mouth, consuming him, knowing she’ll never have enough. She’s known hunger, and now she knows Ben.
She wriggles down his body until she can reach into his already opened pants, fingers curling around his stiff length. Her core clenches, empty now, ready not to be.
“Rey,” he moans. “Please, you –”
She swallows his pleas, stroking along him. She attempts to kick off her pants, then huffs in frustration. Together, they manage to pull them off, her feet barely touching the ground, leaving her in her disheveled tunic and wraps, a match to his state of half-dress. She settles herself back on his hips, his hardness pushing between her thighs. She grinds along him, soaking him with her, building herself back up to the edge of that cliff she found once already.
Finally, she braces herself on his shoulders and rises, his hands clutching her hips as he looks up at her, eyes wide and dark, lips swollen. She bites her own lip and sinks back down, hips angling back and forth, teasing them both until he catches against her, the head tucked into her entrance. They both gasp, gazes locked, and slowly, her arms and legs wracked with tension, she lowers herself over him, He sinks into her, filling her from within, slowly, inevitably, until her hips rest against his.
“Perfect,” she sighs, and he thrusts deeper in response.
Cool air fills her lungs as she breathes deep, spice and earth lingering on the breeze, then she tucks her head into Ben’s neck, teeth teasing the vulnerable skin, and he pervades her senses, tasting the sharp cleanness of him, smelling the heady sweat and ozone of his skin, feeling the tension of his muscles under her hands and the quick, involuntary thrusts of his hips against hers.
Nails digging into his shoulders and heels into his back, she rises over him again and falls, reveling in the clench of her body around his, the strength of her limbs as she takes him over and over, driving them both closer and closer to their joined release. Ben’s hands sink into her ass, not guiding her so much as holding onto her, following her as ever down the path she’s made for them. He chants her name into her neck, mixed with pleas and praise.
“Rey, Rey, Rey, Rey, Rey, so good, yes, please, Rey.”
She answers with his name, and her heart pounds every time he shudders in response. She has him, truly, so undeniably real that they’ll never be able to untangle the two of them. She bites his neck as she comes, leaving another mark to bind them together. Her body clamps down on him, clutching him to her, and her scream sinks into his skin.
Her name leaves him in a cry, and he hunches around her, filling her, their bodies sticking together. The wall grinds against her back as he holds her up, but all that matters is him at her front, under her, in her, with her, always.
They sink to the ground, Ben balancing her on his lap, barely separating as the outside world seeps back in around them. Rey shivers slightly, the night air cooling the sweat on her skin, and Ben’s big hands spread across her back, warding off the chill. The shadows have grown deeper around them, some of the lights in the streets already guttering out. The long, cold months ahead already stretch their tendrils into the town, taking hold.
Quiet settles, and over the distant chatter of the remnants of the festival and murmurs of other couples finding their own ways home, Rey listens to the sure, steady beat of Ben’s heart. She leans her head against his chest, breathing deeply, feeling the last remnants of the years that led to this point fade away, gone with the flickering lights.
“What comes next?” Ben asks quietly, and Rey knows without him saying that he means more than the walk back to their ship, taking the long way through the back streets, and a very long sleep tangled together in a bed. He’s like her: the future always had an end date. Neither of them expected this endless stretch of possibility unspooling before them.
Into the darkness and out into the light again. One turn after another.
She tips her head back, eyes adjusting to the shadows stretching overhead. “Look up,” she says softly.
The night sky looms ahead of them, filled with stars they’ve never seen before, ready and waiting just for them.
“Everything,” she answers. Her lips find his once more.