“Who are you?” the old woman asks.
“Rey who?” she asks, oddly suspicious.
Rey looks to the side, where she sees Luke and Leia materialize in the desert. They smile at her, and she smiles at them. “Rey Skywalker.”
Rey sits up, breathing hard. She looks around her with wild eyes, afraid, but her breathing returns to normal when she sees that she’s in her room. She looks beside her and breathes a sigh of relief when she sees her husband.
“Ben,” she whispers, draping her body over his.
“Mm?” he rumbles, slowly waking beneath her.
“Mm?” he asks again, but he’s more awake now, shifting to move her into his arms.
“Right, so it was…around the time the First Order, you know…”
“Sure, but instead of tanking, you found Palpatine on some…Sith planet or something, I don’t know, and he just conveniently had this enormous military and thousands of followers just, you know, waiting, and he said he’d made you emperor, and you were going to kill him but you didn’t, for some reason.”
“So anyway, I had to find this…thing, I don’t know, and we kept running into each other and fighting, and then I stabbed you and then I felt bad so I brought you back or something, I don’t know, also your mother died–”
“She gave her life force to you, or something.”
“That’s not how the Force works.”
“I know, it was a bad dream, so anyway, I ended up going to Palpatine because he was my grandfather, I guess, which…his son was only in his twenties or thirties or something, so you’re telling me someone fucked Palpatine when he was Emperor?”
“Palpatine did not fuck,” Ben says firmly. “I know he didn’t. He just…no.”
“Right? Anyway, so Palpatine wanted me to be his heir, and I had to kill him so I’d inherit his Sith powers and rule as empress, and then you came to save me, and that was nice, but we both…died? Wait, I died after killing Palpatine, then you brought me back, but the effort killed you, and then I wasn’t even sad! And I moved to Tatooine and took on the name Skywalker.”
Ben breathes deeply. “That is…so offensive on so many levels.”
“I know! As if I’d ever choose kriffing…Tatooine over…literally any other place. And become a Skywalker, even though Luke was a terrible mentor and I don’t need a…family name, or whatever.”
“You don’t need one,” he agrees, pulling her closer. “But Solo suits you.”
She smiles. “It does, doesn’t it?” She nuzzles his nose with hers, her anger at her dream forgotten. “It’s a good name.”
“Rey Solo,” he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Ben Solo,” she murmurs back, pressing her forehead to his.
“Baby Solo,” he says, pressing his hand to her belly.
“Baby Solo,” she adds, resting her hand on top of his. “What do you think, boy and girl? Boy and boy? Girl and girl? Children of indeterminate gender?”
“We already have one of those.”
“True,” she agrees, thinking of the little green child that’s fallen into their care. “But we can have more.” She nestles into his side. “I like Han, for a boy. Or Hanna, for a girl.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”
It still pains him, even now. She kisses his collar, tracing the muscles in his chest. “Or we could always name one after my grandfather.”
“You know, ol’ Grandfather Palps.”
His lips quirk. “You know his first name was Sheev, right?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, never mind, I take it back.”
