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Radiant

Summary:

There are whispers of who the Jedi’s husband once was by those who are older and remember the war against the First Order, rumors said in hushed voices when they visit. He remains impassive though, a skill he has only mastered later in life. Tantrums are an example that he doesn't want to set to the two small figures that follow him like ducklings, a third carried high on his hip.

Notes:

Hello! This might be the fluffiest of fluffs. I wrote it when I randomly woke up at 2 in the morning and was like MUST WRITE THIS NOW and fell asleep mid tapping it out on my phone, then finished it at a later date.

It's sappy as hell, honestly, and I'm a huge sucker for kid fic. Which makes no sense as I don't particularly like kids and frankly find them mostly terrifying. I dunno man.

I hope you Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I've never actually made a flower crown, but I did google how to make one :P

I own nothing.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There are whispers of who the Jedi’s husband once was by those who are older and remember the war against the First Order, rumors said in hushed voices when they visit. The child of the resistance general, fallen to the dark side and dragged kicking and screaming back to the light.  A monster once feared the galaxy over, known for his violence and rage: Kylo Ren, enforcer for the First Order.

Ben hears the comments and snide remarks, impassioned calls for justice, insults spit at him in earshot and cries of recrimination.  He remains impassive though, a skill he has only mastered later in life. Tantrums are an example that he doesn't want to set to the two small figures that follow him like ducklings, a third carried high on his hip.

Rey is attending a meeting that day, handling politics and briefings with his mother where he knows even years later he isn't welcome. He also doesn't have much in the way of desire to attend them either, having long since realized that the distrust still felt for him by certain high ranking members of the resistance is nothing but a distraction. So he tends to his children instead when they're in these parts of the galaxy, both entertaining them and keeping a watchful eye should the children of who was once Kylo Ren attract any attention.

What was once a rebel base, discovered by the First Order and subsequently abandoned, is now a hub of activity; a way point of shuttles coming and going, breaking atmo with the occasional crack. He follows sedately along behind his children, the twins twirling like bright dervishes both in his sight and in the force.  Both are tall and slim for their age with dark heads of hair and luckily that is where most of the resemblance ends.  He carries his son on his hip, the small boy lighter haired than his sisters but otherwise a smaller copy of his father’s features, unfortunate ears and nose included.  He was still in that stage where walking was a challenge, content to ride in his father's arms where he can see everything going on from a higher waypoint.  He speaks, though what he says is often a mishmash of words and babble, at times roars in Shryiiwook thrown in.  Though thankfully it’s rarely cursing, which Ben entirely blames Chewy for.

They skirt the tree line away from the base, following along the edges of thorny brush and calls of wild critters. He extends his senses through trees and bush, undergrowth and hedge, not finding anything larger than a Loth-Cat.  While he doubts many predators would venture this close to the base, some are more opportunistic than others and would take advantage of the presence of civilization to scavenge.  It wouldn't do to be caught unaware, though he senses nothing immediately dangerous.

Eventually the girls find what they're looking for, a sunny meadow overlooking the base filled with wildflowers and tall grasses. The scent of the wildflowers washes over him and he sends a tendril of thought behind him, reaching out to his wife to share the scent the breeze brings and the laughter of their children.

She reaches back, a warm presence in his mind that feels like a smile, twining their consciousness together for a moment before she withdraws somewhat reluctantly. She sends a glimpse to him of his mother with an eyebrow raised, half amused and half scolding that Rey is elsewhere when she needs to pay attention.  Though she has never embraced the Force as he and his uncle have, Leia Organa is still sensitive enough to know when it is at play around her.  He and Rey rarely feel the need to tamp down on their bond, so she likely felt them reaching for each other through the Force.  He knows the meeting’s contents, discussion of the remnants of the First Order and what they are doing.  What Hux, ever a pragmatic, opportunistic prick , is leading towards.  Some feel that even years later when he has not made any sort of power play, when he and Rey have slain Snoke and he has disbanded the Knights of Ren, when he has spoken till he is blue in the face of locations of bases and weapons and all he knows of the First Order’s plans, that he is not to be trusted.  That he should be locked up and executed for his crimes, which even Ben will admit are many.

But he has not come here to dwell, so he only lets loose the barest of sighs as she withdraws from him though she glows golden and bright in the back of his mind always.  Benefits of a force bond, he supposes.

Ezra skips by him then and he stoops, setting Roland down and releasing the toddler to chase after his sisters. They dance around the boy, bending to put their faces in his while making silly grimaces that send him to giggles. Shae snatches his hand up, placing a flower she ripped from the ground in his palm and the boy studied it intently for a moment before he promptly stuffed it in his mouth.

Ben sighs.

“Rol, spit it out, you don't put strange plants in your mouth.” he states, crouching before the boy and peering into his mouth. The child grins, gap toothed and wide where all his baby teeth haven't yet come in. He can see the chewed bits of plant in the child’s maw before he bends his head over and spits it obediently into Ben’s hand.

Perhaps he should have accepted his mother's offer and brought C3-PO with he muses, if only so the android could tell him if the plants are poisonous or not. He does recognize this plant as a simple wildflower at least, one that can be eaten as a green. Time he spent with his uncle as a youth had taught him many things, including what common plants are good for forage and that knowledge has stuck with him over the years.

He drops the chewed blossom, wiping his hand on his black robes and stands up straight from his stoop. Ezra and Shae both skip by again, singing some song they've made up on the spot about flowers and rain and ships falling from the sky, childish voices pitched high in the stillness of the meadow. Roland turns, and toddles after them, voice raised as he bellows along with them in his own nonsense version of the song. The girls start gathering flowers, pulling long stems from the earth and laying them in a pile nearby. Ben keeps an eye on them, lest his warning to not let their brother eat anymore plants is not heeded.

He settles himself on the ground after removing his heavy outer robe, rolling it into a bundle to lean against, long legs crossed beneath him.  His senses are still cast out around them, but this far out he allows himself to relax a little, secure in his knowledge that he can sense anyone coming.  Out here, there is no coming storm, no worries of what is stirring in the galaxy; just laughter.  He turns his face to the sun, letting the warm rays of sunlight beat down upon and warm him, his eyes half closed.

Ezra deems that they’ve gathered enough flowers now, and he turns as the girls flop to the ground next to their pile, Roland between them.  The small boy reaches a hand out for a flower, and makes to again stuff it in his mouth.  Before Ben can react, Shae has caught her brother’s wrist.  “No Rol, we need the flowers to make crowns!” she tells him and the boy pouts a little, but lowers his arm, watching eagerly as his sisters scoop up flowers and begin to try and twine them together.

It doesn’t take all that long before he senses their building frustration when they’re unable to weave the flowers together.  Ezra, the more impatient of the twins, growls and throws her handful of flowers are the ground, crossing her arms in a pout.  “I thought you just had to twist them together!” she declares, idly plucking the petals from one of the flowers she tossed.  Shae, similarly frustrated, cradles her bundle in her lap, looking forlornly at their pile of blooms.  Roland looks back and forth between them, unsure to why his sisters are suddenly unhappy.

Ben rises, snagging his outer robe as he makes his way over to his children.  Three sets of dark eyes watch him as he sits besides the pile.  “You don’t twist the stems, you braid them.” he instructs, snagging three wildflowers with longer stems.  His long fingers set to weaving them together, taking another bloom and starting to weave that one in as well, continuing as they watch him raptly.

Soon he has a small strip of flowers woven together and he gestures at the girls to try.  Ezra looks unsure for a moment as she snags three blooms with stems, Shae already gamely trying to imitate their father’s movements.  He watches as one twin, Shae, gets it quickly, while Ezra stares blankly down at her hands.  “How do I get the new flowers in?” she asks, having managed to weave the stems together in a messy strand.

“You double up on the stems,” he states, moving her hands so he can undo some of her work before offering another bloom, showing her how to hold it to blend it in.  Soon she’s got it, braiding the stems together in a rough but passable way.  He resumes his own small strip, blending blooms together, pausing before he ends it and watching as the girl’s finish their own strips.  “You just tuck the ends in to finish.” and he demonstrates, forming a small circlet that he sets on Roland’s head.  The tow-headed boy grins and gently pats it against his hair.

The girls finish their own circlets finally and place them on their heads, grinning happily up at him from beneath the multitude of colored blooms.  Ezra grabs up another pile of flowers and starts to weave another crown, her tongue stuck out slightly as she works.  Shae stands and begins to gather more flowers, darting around the field and plucking blooms as she works.  At the rate they’re going, the field might not have much left for flowers when they’re done.

His attention is drawn back to Ezra as she suddenly exclaims happily, jumping to her feet and rushing over to her father.  Roland is contently shredding a pile of blooms with stems Ezra had deemed too short for her to work with.  Ben watches her as she grins, hands reaching up and cradling the crown above his head, her brows raised in a silent question.  He regards her steadily for a moment before inclining his head towards her, letting her set the crown on his own dark curls of hair.

“Come, let’s make one for your mother.”  he tells them.

Sometime later he feels Rey reach out, a beckoning call for them to return. He senses her weariness and slight unease but doesn't question it at the moment.  She’ll tell him the contents later, late at night when the children are put to bed and aren't subject to the pull of their parents emotions in the Force. He sends back his own contentment, as well as a slight put upon notion accompanied by the sight of the chewed up flower.  He can feel her amusement swell and he smiles.

They pick their way back towards the base, once again skirting the treeline and once again he sense nothing but small critters, no threat to them.  Ben had a few spare crowns tucked into his pockets, the largest reserved for Rey.  The girls has insisted that Poe and Finn and Leia all needed their own crowns, and who was he to protest?  He was pretty sure they’d wiped out that particular field’s supply of flowers.

He feels more than hears the words that flow through the base as they approach the tarmac, whisper’s about the fact that the once-scourge of the galaxy is touting a crown of flowers on his head.  Ben ignores the whispers, head held high as he strides languidly after the girls.  He’s once again carrying Roland on his hip, the toddler babbling as the girls lead the way, swinging their hands.

A light brush against his senses has him looking up, spotting Rey exiting a building and making her way towards them.

Setting the boy down, he hands Roland the remaining crown, and scoots him towards his mother with the tiniest of force pushes.  The boy grins, reaching up to her with cries of “Ma!  Ma!  Up!”

Rey scoops him up, tickling his sides and setting him to shrieking laughter.  He grins at his mother and presents her with the last crown, slightly smushed from Ben’s pocket and suspiciously damp.

Rey grins and sets the boy down, lowering herself to his level and offers her head. Roland sets it on her with a delighted laugh, gently patting it against her hair.

The twins, twined around his leg spot Finn, Poe, and BB8 in the distance and skip off after the former storm trooper and pilot, yelling in delight as they approach. He smirks only a little as the girls work in tandem like a little pack of wolves, flanking Dameron and tackling his knees to send him sprawling to the ground.  They immediately flop on top of him, wrestling the Pilot’s arms down and digging their fingers into his side to tickle him despite his cries for mercy.  He can hear their shrieks and Finn’s laughter, BB8’s beeping from this distance.

As the girls finally let Dameron up at Rey’s slightly exasperated call for them to leave the poor man be, Ben looks around for a moment and is struck by a simple fact: It’s taken him far, far too long to reach this point, but he is happy.  Content with his life and his children and his wife, and while he knows it won’t always be perfect and so peaceful (He knows this, deep in his bones and the Force and he tries not to fear for it, for them, he knows something is on the horizon, but not what) he is happy.

Rey glances at him from the corner of her eye, laughing as she bends to wrap a spare fallen flower around BB8’s antenna while Roland claps in delight.  Perhaps sensing his thoughts, she offers him a smile, and it is radiant, glowing golden and bright in life and in the Force.

Notes:

The names don't have any real meaning. I just picked ones I liked.

The twins are 6-7ish Roland is just over a year.

I hope you enjoyed :D

I have a tumblr. bother me there if you want :D http://ruuutabaga.tumblr.com/