"One quarter portion."

Rey gritted her teeth as Unkar Plutt swept her spoils for the day - a set of iron greaves, a pauldron emblazoned with the sigil of House Calrissian in blue and green, a single metal gauntlet for the right hand, and the front portion of a breastplate, only slightly dented - off the counter and into the arms of one of his goons. In return, he dumped the appropriate amount of flour into her extended burlap sack, along with two slices of dried and salted meat that she knew tasted distinctly like wood chips caked in sand. He pointedly ignored her sullen look, instead shouting for the next person in the long line behind Rey to approach.

On a different day, Rey might have fought him on it. Her spoils were worth a portion and a half for the lot at the very least, especially considering that most of the pieces were in good repair, if not in matching sets. Iron was more valuable than gold in Jakku, she should have at least been able to feed herself for the day with what she had brought back.

But Unkar Plutt was in a mood that day - she had already seen him send two of his apprentices away without supper that day, and she wasn't ready to risk what little he had been willing to give her.

Rey hefted the disparagingly light sack over her shoulder. She spared only a single, longing glance at the warehouse behind Plutt's stall; the one she knew to be filled to the brim not just with flour and old, salted meat, but also with dried fruits, nuts, assorted grains, and candies. Fresh food was even imported occasionally, venison and mutton and beef and vegetables, though of course such delicacies were reserved for the chief blacksmith alone. He was far too cheap to allow his dozens of apprentices - the ones who found the iron and steel that was re-shaped into fine armor, who shod horses and refined the metal, who did almost all of the work - to eat well.

Rey had tried to sneak into the warehouse once when she was young, at a time when her hunger and foolishness had outweighed her common sense. One of the guards Plutt employed to protect his stock had caught her before she could steal so much as a cube of sugar and had given Rey the beating of her life. He had broken her arm in the encounter, and little Rey had nearly starved during the month it took to heal. With a heavy sigh, she turned her back on the warehouse.

She found Falcon where she had tied him to a post near the edge of town. The old, grey gelding was stretched to the end of his tether, his neck extended out as he reached for a fellow scavenger sitting pointedly just out of reach, his teeth clicking together empty just inches away from Teedo's back.

"No," she told him pointedly, and Falcon jerked back to his full height and blinked angelically at her. As she approached to untie his reins, he lipped softly at the scarf wrapped around her neck and face, the very picture of innocence. Rey rolled her eyes and patted his neck. The dust cloud that arose from his flank as he shook himself off revealed the paler dapples that covered his hide. The dirt got into everything in Jakku, covering everything in a fine layer of brown.

She made a mental note to give him an extra brushing once she returned home tonight, like she did every night. He made no protest as Rey swung into his saddle. "Looks like we're going hungry again tonight," she muttered to him, and Falcon shook his head, tugging on his reins. Rey had been hungrier before - besides, if they made good time back to her hut, they would arrive before sunset, and the little desert lizards would be out and about in the cooler hours before night fell. Rey was a decent shot with a bow; maybe she could hit one of the larger ones and cook it over the fire.

Rey tapped her heels into Falcon's sides and clicked her tongue at the thought, and once more, the two were off.

When it came to navigating the deserts of Jakku - or anywhere, really - there was no better horse than Falcon. He was far from a thoroughbred, but Rey preferred the cantankerous gelding to horse royalty any day. He was reliable, he was loyal, and he would stride through old battlefields littered with ancient skeletons, or along narrow cliffs with steep drops, or even past recently dead bodies, the blood still staining the sand, without batting an eye.

On top of that, his temper made him a bit of a legend around Niima Outpost, and the other apprentices avoided him when they could. Rey knew she could leave her finds for the day near him, and Falcon would take a chunk out of anyone who wandered too close to it out of principle, if not fidelity.

The two skirted Kelvin Ravine, to the north of town, Falcon's hooves kicking up a layer of sand as he picked up his pace from a trot into a canter. The Ravine was known for being the site of a battle waged in Jakku several centuries before - Rey couldn't remember which. A great many battles had been fought in the fief over the years; she couldn't be bothered to remember which battlefield corresponded with which war.

Once, Jakku had been famed for its iron mines, and had been the source of nearly every reputable armorer's steel. Dozens of battles were fought for control of the mines over the years, until the unification of the kingdom had brought an end to the bloody battles in the time of the warlords. The iron was shipped all over the kingdom, and lords and kings alike bragged about their Jakku Steel armor and swords.

That is, until the iron mines had suddenly dried up, and Jakku was left destitute. Without its largest source of revenue - it's only source of revenue, really - it quickly became one of the poorest fiefs in the kingdom, and the people fled it in exodus.

It was Unkar Plutt, a blacksmith who had once forged beautiful weapons with Jakku Steel, that had the ingenious idea that saved them, supposedly - most of the bodies had been left behind, still in their armor, after all those old battles. The armor could be re-used - the dents hammered out, or melted down for raw steel to make new items. In this way, the economy could be revived, and Jakku would flourish once again.

Well, 'flourish' was a strong word - the residents would be able to survive, at least. And because this was Plutt, he stood to profit the most. He hired on dozens of apprentices - scavengers, more like - to ride into the perilous deserts of Jakku to retrieve the old armor, and in return, he would feed them and teach them the basics of the blacksmith's trade.

Thus Jakku had existed since before Rey was born and would continue until long after she had died. Like every other scavenger in Jakku, she would risk life and limb to ride out into the desert to find Plutt's steel, and would continue to do so until the day she ran out of luck.

It wasn't all bad, though, she thought as she dismounted Falcon just outside of her home. Her hut was modified from an old military barracks - an ancient, empty building Rey had repaired herself. It only had a single room, but it was large - the perfect place for a girl and her horse to live. She had sectioned it off years ago - a stable in the front half and her living space through a small gate to the back. The sound of Falcon munching hay or snorting on the other side of the building sent her to sleep more surely than any lullaby. She had a roof over her head, a reliable well, and a source of food, even if Plutt was prone to withholding from time to time.

"Rey!"

And good friends, of course. Rey grinned and poked her head out of the large, double doors that opened into her home. There, riding toward her at a trot on his great white stallion, was Finn, her closest friend and confidante.

A few years ago, Rey never would have imagined having a companion like Finn. Her early life was spent alone - first under Plutt's flabby, fatty wing, then on her own in the old barracks. She hadn't thought she needed anyone else - she could wait here, until her family returned for her, and then they would be all she needed. She hadn't even recognized that she was lonely.

It was only a couple of years ago that Finn had come into her life, riding that white stallion with the crossed eyes around in circles around town, the poor horse too stupid to realize it was going nowhere. Rey had pointed him in the right direction of the little river hamlet he was looking for, a village that was a whole fief over - Rey still didn't know how he had managed to get so lost - but by that point, the sun was already kissing the horizon, and Finn had followed her home like a lost pup, looking for a place to stay the night. She remembered thinking that she should have chased him away with her staff.

To this day, she was so, so glad she hadn't.

Finn had left in the morning with a cheery grin, and Rey had stared at the compressed pile of hay he had slept on for several minutes, confused by the strange encounter, before going about her day.

But barely a week later, he had shown up again on her doorstep with that same dopey smile and a sack of vegetables. The only reason she let him stay was because he had food, and he had settled himself by her hearth to share a meal. "To thank you for your help last week," he had told her.

He ended up staying long past the sun set, and Rey had allowed him to stay in the hay pile he had slept in last time. He showed up again the next week, and then the next, and the week after, as well. His visits increased in frequency until he was showing up on her doorstep nearly every night, always with a small sack of food to share and a cheery grin, until Rey found she didn't want to chase him away anymore. Suddenly, she couldn't imagine a day where he wouldn't come visit, a time when they wouldn' sit by the hearth, sharing stories and laughing. Finn had become a part of her life - he had gained her companionship, and later her trust, and he had it before she even realized she had given it, as evidenced by the fact that she had given him an actual pallet to sleep on and had begun to expect his visits. Finally, she gave in, and just started inviting him to her home after he worked.

But Finn couldn't be there all the time - as a farmhand, he worked long hours during harvesting and planting seasons, and since he lived a fief over, there were days he couldn't return to the cozy little home they had created together. Visiting him was difficult - he lived in a house on the farm, packed to the brim with other workers during the busy season, though most returned to their families in the nearby village when the fields lay fallow. Not only was there no room for her to stay, but by the time he returned, it was late at night, and he was often too exhausted for idle chatting.

Rey hadn't expected to see him for a few weeks - winter was fast approaching, not that one could tell in the dry desert heat, but soon the river that ran through the farming village would crest the banks and flood the fields, marking the beginning of the wet season. All of the crops had to be harvested before that happened - but afterwards, there would be months of peace, in which Finn could visit every day while they waited for the river to recede, happy to contribute to and share a meal with her.

As Finn approached, Rey raised her hand to wave at him, the smile still plastered across her face - and froze. The white stallion he rode upon was followed closely behind by a second horse, a small but hardy-looking cream-colored horse with patches of brown so bright they were nearly orange. It was led along by a lead line tied to the saddle horn.

But it wasn't the horse that worried her, though that was certainly unusual - it was the second figure riding double with Finn, an arm wrapped around his waist to keep himself balanced on the horse's broad back.

"Rey!" Finn repeated her name as he swung his leg over Storm's back and slid to the ground. He strode over and wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug, oblivious to how stiff her form was. He pulled back after a moment, still smiling at her. "Sorry for stopping by unexpectedly," he said, though she doubted he was - she was used to Finn stopping by without any prior warning, though not during this time of year. "Something came up, so I had to come visit."

"Finn," Rey greeted him coolly. Her chill gaze turned to the second figure, who hopped off of Storm's back with an easy grace that spoke of years of professionally trained horsemanship. "Who's your friend?"

"This is - "

"Poe Dameron, knight of Coruscant and emissary of Her Majesty, Queen Leia Organa," the stranger introduced himself with a smile, his teeth very white against his tanned skin. He bowed with an elaborate flourish. "I'm traveling through the Reach on official business for the Crown."

"From Coruscant, Rey," Finn repeated, his eyes wide and excited. "You should hear the stories he has to tell."

"I'm sure he can spin quite the tale," Rey said dryly. Poe reached for her hand, no doubt to lay a kiss across her knuckles like a true courtier, but Rey jerked it away and laced her fingers behind her back before he had a chance.

She eyed him up and down warily. Finn's stranger certainly was handsome, with dark, windswept hair pushed back from his brow and a jawline strong enough to cut glass. A light stubble covered his cheeks, as if he hadn't seen a razor in a couple of days, but he made it seem intentional. His eyes sparkled with intelligence and wit - but Rey knew that attractive and wiley were often a dangerous combination.

Finn, however, was much more trusting, and always had been. He was quick to smile and quick to love, which made him easy prey for heralds - or smooth strangers with blinding smiles and stories of adventures from the capitol. Rey had always been the wary one, the one who didn't trust, the one who questioned identities and motivations.

But if Rey had it her way, she'd never trust anyone, never let anyone into her life. The only reason Finn had wormed his way into her heart was because he was one of the purest people she had ever met - there was no way that level of kind, innocent goodness could be feigned. He was the one that reminded her that not everyone had an ulterior motive, than not every starving orphan begging for scraps had a knife hidden in their ragged clothes - only most of them. He was her better half, in a sense - but she was the half that kept him from getting killed.

"Rey," she finally introduced herself, though she kept her hands to herself and glared as she did so. "Tell me, Finn," she asked, "What brings Sir Dameron, one of the queen's own knights, to my humble doorstep?"

If Poe heard the skepticism in her voice, he gave no sign of it. "Call me Poe," he chirped cheerily. "My new friend here tells me you're good with animals. I've been having trouble with my mount for the past couple of days. I don't know how to describe it, but her gait seems off. It might be nothing - but it'd give me some peace of mind to know it's something I don't have to worry about."

Rey approached the mare carefully, unhooking her lead line from Storm's saddle. She pricked her ears forward at Rey's approach, and Rey tugged her forward gently. Obediently, she stepped forward a couple of paces, and sure enough, something about the way she walked didn't sit right with Rey. "This is her first time in the desert, isn't it?" she asked. "Not used to the sand?"

Poe nodded. "It's mostly fields outside of Coruscant. She hasn't seen much rough terrain before, but she's taken to it remarkably well. Well, until recently, at least."

"And you've been picking her hooves?"

"Of course."

Rey stroked a large, orange patch on the mare's cheek, and she nuzzled into Rey's shoulder, lipping at the fabric of her shirt. Rey turned her head to blow into her nostril, a silly horse greeting she had picked up from Falcon years ago, and the mare blew a puff of air back at her, much to Rey's delight.

She paused for a moment, glancing between Poe and the horse in front of her. She was reluctant to let Poe anywhere near her home, let alone inside of it. Strangers were not to be trusted. But horses - horses were good. Horses didn't hurt people for their own gain - only if they were scared or upset or angry. Horses didn't go behind your back, horses didn't betray you, horses didn't leave you behind. She couldn't let one that was so sweet remain in distress.

But her rider…

"I have food," Poe offered. "The Lord and Lady of the last fief I visited gave me far too much. I'd be happy to give you some in exchange for your help."

Rey immediately perked up. "Oh, good," she replied, leading the horse back to her barn. "Come on inside, and we'll take a look and find out what's wrong." Finn plucked up Storm's reins and shot Poe a grin when he thought Rey wasn't looking. She only rolled her eyes in response.

"What's her name?" she asked as led the horse into one of the small stalls she had constructed inside. "Your horse, I mean."

"BB-8," Poe replied.

Rey paused from untacking the mare, turning to stare at Poe. "BB-8?"

Poe shrugged with an easy smile. "Foaling season tends to get busy at the royal stables," he replied by way of explanation, "but we've never seen as wild a day as when she was born. By the time the last one was born, they were so tired of thinking up names that they just named her 'Baby Eight'. I call her BB-8, or BB for short." BB snorted in agreement.

"Stars save me from owners and the stupid names they give their horses," Rey muttered, before returning to lightening BB's load. She spared a quick glance into Poe's saddlebags, searching for anything suspicious, but all she could see were clothes, letters, and a canteen of water. She turned to hook the saddlebags over the edge of the stall, and -

"Hey!" Poe paused in his survey of Falcon. The old gelding's eyes were sharp on the newcomer, though Poe remained out of range of his teeth. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she warned Poe. "He bites."

"He does," Finn confirmed from where he was brushing Storm down. "I have the scars to prove it."

"It'll be fine," Poe dismissed them, approaching Falcon with his hand leading. Falcon's ears pricked up as Poe stepped closer, no doubt waiting until he was close enough that he could nip at something really painful. Here we go, Rey thought as Falcon stretched his neck out -

- only to drag his tongue through Poe's hair, grazing at the dark curls atop his head. Poe laughed and patted his neck. Slowly, the tension slid out of Rey. She may not have trusted Poe - but horses had a good sense of people. If Falcon thought Poe wasn't dangerous, then Rey could believe that his intentions were good - or, at least, they weren't bad. "I've never seen him do that," Rey admitted.

"I like horses," Poe replied, "so I want them to like me. That generally means that I'm willing to cheat a bit to get that to happen." He winked back at Rey and produced a sugar cube from his pocket, which Falcon immediately gobbled up with gusto. "Any luck with BB?"

"Working on it," Rey replied, turning back to the horse. Now that she didn't have to worry about Poe, she could see the mare was visibly distressed. Though her eyes were bright and focused, she kept shifting from hoof to hoof, almost as if she was nervous, though BB didn't strike her as a nervous horse.

"Hey there, sweet thing," Rey crooned to the horse as she patted her soothingly, running her hands down her front legs. Yes, she could definitely feel BB's discomfort, the pain radiating outwards from just beneath her fingertips. Gently, she plucked BB's hoof from the ground to take a peek at her hoof.

"That's the problem," she said decisively, and Poe peeked his head over the wall from where he had been petting Falcon.

"What is?" he asked, trying to see what Rey was looking at.

"When was the last time she was shod?"

"A few days ago, in Sullust." Rey only barely managed to keep from laughing as soon as he spoke. "She's new to horseshoes, since she never needed them before we left Coruscant. I would have preferred to use a royal farrier, but we've been on the road, and he offered us a good price for high-quality shoes."

"I know exactly who you're talking about," Rey replied with a scowl. "He uses quality steel, but he doesn't know a thing about horses or shoeing them. I can't believe he's still in business." She waved Poe into the stall. "Take a look - the shoe's too small." She dragged her fingernail along the space between the edge of the horseshoe and the outside of her hoof, and BB fidgeted in her grasp before Rey set her leg down. "With a shoe that's too small, she's going to wobble, and it's easier to pick up stray stones - not to mention easier to hurt herself on them. No wonder she's walking funny."

"And here I was thinking she just had a wild night with that stallion down by the river village. At least now I know I don't have to worry about any BB-9's." At that, Rey finally cracked a smile at him, and Poe's grin seemed all the more brilliant, even with the coating of horse slobber in his hair. "In all seriousness, is there anything you can do to help? Any reliable farriers you might know in Jakku?"

"I can do you one better," Rey replied, heading over to her workbench to grab her pliers and hammer. "I'll re-shoe her for you, the right way - no extra cost. Her hooves don't look too much smaller than Falcon's; I think I can re-shape them to fit her."

Poe's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you a farrier?"

"Blacksmith," Finn corrected. Done with settling Storm in for the night, he walked over to join in on the conversation.

"Like everyone else in Jakku," Rey muttered in agreement, lifting BB's hoof between her knees to pull the nails out of the first shoe. BB tugged her foot away and waltzed toward the other side of the stable. "Finn, come hold her head," Rey turned her head to her friend. "I can't have her trying to conduct a dance lesson in my barn while I'm trying to pull these nails out."

Finally, with Finn holding her head and Poe leaning against her flank to push her toward the wall, BB relaxed enough to let Rey tug the nails out of the first shoe one by one. "There are no farriers in Jakku," Rey explained while she worked. "If there were, they would be driven out immediately. Anything to do with steel or iron is done by the apprentice blacksmiths."

"Not by the blacksmith himself?"

Rey barked out a short, bitter laugh as she set the nails and removed shoe aside and moved onto the next hoof. "No. I've never even seen the head blacksmith lift a hammer." She wondered if he even could - it was a wonder he was even able to walk, considering the layers upon layers of fat on his body.

"It's fine," Finn reassured Poe. "Rey knows what she's doing. She does Storm's shoes, and he's never had a problem."

Finally, all the horseshoes had been pulled from BB's hooves, and Rey walked her up and down the barn a couple of times to check her movement. Sure enough, her gait had evened out, now much more even and balanced than before.

After a couple of rounds, Rey handed her reins off to Finn. "Can you clean her hooves for me?" she asked. "I need to light up the forge so I can re-shape the shoes." Finn nodded and led BB-8 off.

Rey focused on shoveling coal into the forge. "So, Sir Dam - Poe," she corrected herself as she stood, deeming the forge had enough fuel for her purposes. She went in search of her flint to start the fire. "What brings an agent of the Crown to our own personal slice of hell?"

Poe was silent for a long time, long enough for Rey to light the fire and begin pumping the bellows to fan the flames. "Look," she said, "if it's some sort of secret mission for the queen, that's fine, but I need you to - "

"It's not that," Poe interrupted. "I'm supposed to tell you about it - you and everyone else. It's just...not good news."

Rey hesitated for a moment. The nobility getting involved in the lives of the common folk was never good news - and if it was bad news even by those standards, it must have been very worrying indeed. Suddenly, Rey wasn't sure she even wanted to know.

But even if ignorance was bliss, Rey much preferred to prepare for the future than go into a crisis blind. "There is no good news in Jakku. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it. Just tell me."

After a moment's more hesitation, Poe spoke. "The Marquess of the Reach is in the market for a wife."

Rey froze in her work, the first horseshoe halfway extended into the flames. Their conversation caught Finn's attention, who poked his head over the edge of the stall BB was using. "What happened to the last one?"

"Eaten," Poe said grimly. "Swallowed whole by the dragon."

"Again?" Rey whispered.

"Again," he confirmed.

The Marquess of the Reach was a mysterious figure, spoken of in hushed whispers in taverns in every fief in the Reach. While even the lowest of peasants in other regions could tell you cursory details about the High Lords of their home - like that the Naberries of the Slice always inherited through the female line, and there hadn't been a ruling Earl instead of an Earless in generations, or that the Grand Duke or Duchess of the Core was always an Organa and the heir to the throne - the Marquess of the Reach was a complete unknown. Rey had heard that, once, the Reach had been ruled by the Skywalker family, but whether the current lord was a descendant or completely unrelated was another enigma. No one even knew his name.

What was known was that he had been married for the first time about five years ago, only for his wife to die about eight months later. Days after her death, the Marquess had demanded another bride, and the lords and ladies of the fiefs of the Reach had produced another noble daughter from their ranks to send to marry the Marquess. All was well - until she also died a little under a year later. The cycle had repeated itself over and over throughout the years - and if what Poe was saying was true, then the Marquess had now been married and widowed six times.

It was the circumstances of their death, as well as those of his demands for a new wife, that made the situation all the more terrifying. The stories told of a dragon who bowed to the Marquess' every whim, who had devoured every single one of his wives, who rampaged and destroyed the villages that were supposed to be under his care if he was not provided with a new bride when the old one was consumed. They said his body was made of the blackness of night between the stars, his wings of shadows brought to life. His teeth were made of the swords of the many knights he had defeated, and his roar preceded a hundred orphan's screams as their parents were taken right before their eyes. Staring into his eyes was supposed to drive even the bravest of men to madness.

Kylo Ren. The dark monster that had terrorized the Reach for more than half a decade.

Rey had seen the wreckage of one of his rampages before. She had been scavenging several miles to the north of Tuanul when the dragon's cry, barely audible from the distance, had reached her ears, shaking the stones beneath her feet and causing even calm, steady Falcon to fidget nervously. The shadow, barely more than a speck, had circled once over the smoking village before turning south over the desert, away from Rey.

It had been poor judgement to investigate, but Rey had been curious - at the time, she had believed the stories of the dragon and the Marquess to be little more than tall tales. But the buildings, burned to the ground in minutes in a fire hotter than she could ever build in her forge, the charred bones, the blood staining the sand were no fairytale - and Rey could imagine nothing, no creature or army, that could do this other than a dragon. The iron from the armor and weapons of the village's warriors had kept her fed for months - but Rey had never returned once it had been picked clean. It had even felt wrong to invade it to scavenge. Tuanul was a graveyard now - and the dead should be allowed to rest undisturbed.

But maybe Poe's arrival was a good thing - perhaps it signaled an imminent change.

"So why are you here?" Rey asked, pulling the first horseshoe out of the forge and bringing it over to the anvil. "Has the queen finally had enough of her subject's terror? Is she organizing an army to kill the dragon?"

"No," Poe replied, and Rey scowled.

"Aren't rulers supposed to protect their subjects?" she demanded. "The queen should have sent the army to deal with the dragon as soon as he began eating people. Why hasn't she done so?"

"Rey," Finn said warningly, "You're speaking about the queen to one of the men that serves her. Watch your tone."

"I won't watch my tone when she's not doing what she's supposed to be doing," Rey shot back hotly.

"The dragon ate her husband," Poe said suddenly, and Rey quieted. "Prince Consort Han Solo was eaten by the dragon, despite her best attempts to save him. The royal army of Coruscant fought against him and lost. I think Her Majesty believes appeasement to be the best solution - if she doesn't give him what he wants, he'll send the dragon to destroy the countryside. There may be deaths this way - but at least she can control how many."

Rey made a disgruntled noise, but didn't argue. "Fine, then," she muttered. "So the queen's going to leave the dragon in peace. What are you doing here, then?"

"As I said, the Marquess is in the market for a wife," Poe replied. "The queen has sent me to find him a new bride."

"Ah," Rey murmured. "Going around to the noble houses to find eligible daughters?"

"Not exactly."

Rey nearly groaned - that phrase was quickly becoming the bane of her existence. "Then what are you doing here?"

"Finding brides for the Marquess is not exactly an easy job," Poe told her, "especially considering the rate he goes through them. The queen has set up a lottery system to decide the next one - any woman in the Reach can enter. The winner will marry the Marquess. The drawing is set for the end of the season."

"Seriously?" Rey grumbled. "A lottery? Aren't the nobles supposed to decide among themselves? That's why we pay their taxes and work their land - so they'll protect us from threats like this. They're the ones that should take the fall. They shouldn't be trying to pass this off on their subjects."

"Normally, I'd agree, as would the queen, I think," Poe replied. "But there's only one unmarried noble lady in the Reach at the current time - Lady Asha of Endor."

"Good. Send her to marry him. Leave the rest of us in peace."

"Rey," Poe said gently, "Lady Asha is seven."

That shut her up more effectively than any other explanation. "Oh," she whispered.

"When all this started," Poe continued on, "the Reach had plenty of eligible women. But as soon as a pattern emerged, the lords and ladies of the Reach began arranging matches for their daughter as quickly as possible. No one wants to lose their child - even if they must betroth their daughter while she's still a toddler to save her."

"Right," Rey mumbled, thoroughly chastised.

Then, Poe perked up. "You should enter the lottery, Rey," he suggested.

Rey laughed in his face. "And risk being eaten by a dragon? Thanks, but no."

"No, I'm serious," Poe prodded. "As an incentive, every girl that enters receives a purse of ten gold pieces. Plus, the winner's family receives a nobility title and a place in the queen's court."

For a moment, Rey went serious. The things she could do with ten gold pieces! She could eat for nearly a year on money like that - longer, if she was frugal. A year where she wouldn't be beholden to Plutt, a full year of freedom - but at what cost? The possibility of being married off and the guarantee of being eaten by a dragon?

It wasn't worth it. She may not have been bedecked in jewels, and she may not have eaten like a queen (or a Marquesa), but she had a steady income. She had a livelihood that left her a much higher chance of survival than gambling with fate.

"No," she told Poe. "No, I don't think so."

Poe nodded in acquiescence. Then, a look of realization washed over his face, and he glanced at Finn before looking back at her. Finn stared at him curiously, paying attention to their conversation once more. "Oh! Oh. I get it. I didn't mean to presume. So, you two are…?"

"No!" Rey exclaimed, even as Finn interrupted with a "yes!". Then, they glanced at each other. "Yes," Rey agreed, right as Finn changed his answer to "no". Rey turned to glare at him, and Finn shrugged, his dark face turning an even deeper shade with the force of his blush. He muttered something about BB's hooves being clean before ducking back below the partition.

"It's complicated," Rey told Poe. They had never really discussed it, but Rey wouldn't have been surprised if she and Finn married one day. She couldn't speak for Finn, but it had never been about love on her part. It sounded like a sad, passionless thing to say - but Rey had never expected to marry for love. She hadn't even expected to marry at all, at least, not until her parents returned for her.

But Rey had expected her parents to return years ago, while she was still a child, and she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that the day they came back for her might be a long way off. Would it really be so bad to marry, to have someone to take back with her when they found her? Maybe she didn't hold the wild, passionate love for Finn that was sung about in all the ballads, but she cared. Finn was her companion, her partner, and something deep inside of her told her that they should never be apart. She wanted to build a life, and she liked the idea of sharing it with him in some way. They completed each other, and they made each other better.

If that wasn't something to base a marriage off of, she didn't know what was.

"The simple answer is 'not really'," she finally told him, dropping the fourth and final horseshoe to the side to cool. She'd make any final adjustments once they were cold enough to handle and she could measure them against BB's hoof.

Poe nodded along. "I'll accept that," he told her. "I can understand complicated. Still, I'd think about it if I were you - there's a lot of good that can be done with ten gold pieces, especially in the right hands, and the chances of being picked are slim. Word from the capitol is that we've already had almost a thousand entrants."

A thousand entrants, Rey thought. Ten thousand gold pieces. What a waste. She would never understand how the nobility could afford to live in such excess. "I'll consider it," she told Poe, just to placate him. Truthfully, even one in a thousand was too much of a risk for her when it came to dragons, even for the reward being offered.

Thankfully, BB took better to putting the horseshoes on than she did taking them off. She seemed to understand on some level that Rey knew what she was doing, unlike the farrier who had handled her before, and stood still as Rey measured and filed and reshaped and nailed, complacent as Rey constantly picked her hoof up only to set it back down again. Poe and Finn watched as she worked, ready to help hold the mare still if needed, but it was unnecessary. By the time the first shoe was on and the nails filed down, Rey chased them off into the living quarters she had built in the barracks. As she compared the third one against BB's hoof, the scent of cooking meat began to waft through the air, overpowering even the smell of manure.

By the time all four horseshoes were on and all three horses were fed and watered, the stew cooking over the hearth was well on its way to done. Rey's stomach rumbled as she looked down at the broth, thick with vegetables and meat. Poe grinned at her and handed her a meat pie from his pack before gesturing to a spot around the fire.

The three stayed up long past the sun had set, trading news and stories. Finn told Rey's favorite story, about how the Imperial Legion to the west was famed for riding horses with coats of pure white, and how they were so obsessed with keeping the beautiful fur that they began to breed the horses brother to sister, thus producing generations of beautiful horses that were dumber than rocks - like sweet, gentle, simple Storm.

Rey didn't have many stories of her own - most of them, she realized, were far too grim to tell around a campfire with a couple of happy friends - but she had heard quite a few fairy tales, told to her by the kind, older scavengers when she was still young and hammering out dents in the armor Plutt received from his apprentices. Rey told the one about how the Organas were secretly a family of witches and warlocks, who made the sun rise and set and the rains fall and the grasses grow; who waged a constant war with the forces of evil that sought to claim the kingdom and bring about unending night. The story had been told to her in a serious manner which Rey tried to recreate for show - and Poe laughed so hard he nearly cried at the way she overdid it, with flourishes of her hands to indicate magic spells.

Poe was, by far, the one who told the most stories. Rey had never left Jakku, and Finn knew little of the world other than what he had seen in the Reach and what he had been told before he deserted from the Imperial Legion, so both were eager to hear about the world beyond their ken. They especially delighted in stories of the ridiculous things that the members of the nobility did - as they learned, Poe had come from humble means, and had worked his way up the ranks until he served the queen herself, so was able to find humor in their actions, as well.

Rey loved the ones about the absurd court fashions. Apparently, feathers had suddenly come into style one year, and were worn everywhere. Gluing tiny feathers to one's eyelashes became especially popular - so popular than even the gentlemen were doing it, wearing feathers in masculine blacks and greys and reds. However, one poor lady, who was well-known for her taste in clothes, was horrendously allergic to feathers, but not to be outdone, had followed the fashion despite her sniffling and coughing and red eyes and rough voice. Others began to think it was a fashion statement as well, and began to rub their eyes to make them red or fake a cough. Worst of all was when people actually began to show up to court sick, as if it was in vogue. It became a competition of sorts, to see how sick they could become and still attend to the queen. It all came to a head when six people fainted from fever during a ball one night. In the end, the queen had to ban both feathers and influenza from the royal palace.

Rey would never understand the nobility, but at least she had a close friend - or maybe it was friends, now. As the moon began to rise in the sky, Rey set up a pallet for Poe and sent Finn to bed. As she left to find her own cot, she prayed she would see Poe again, as he was going back on the road tomorrow to deliver the news of the lottery to every fief in the reach.

Hopefully, the next time they met, it would be under better circumstances.

Finally, the first day of winter had arrived. The day before had been madness - Finn and the other farmhands had scrambled to finish the harvest, and had completed it just in time. The last wagon, loaded to the brim with grain, was leaving the fields just as the river finally crested the banks and spilled out onto the land. Once it receded toward the end of the season, there would be work to do, but for now, it was time to celebrate.

All of the workers had crowded into the small tavern - the landowner had opened a tab at the bar, meaning free drinks for all the farmhands. Finn was sipping his second mug of ale, enjoying the warmth it sent flooding through his body. The desert never really cooled off, even in the winter, but the burn of alcohol was never unwelcome after a stressful day.

Nor was gossip, apparently. One of his fellow workers burst in, brandishing a piece of parchment. Judging by the sizable tear near the top of the paper, he had torn it from the town message board in his eagerness to bring it to the tavern. "I have news," he proclaimed with forced solemnity, though he was clearly excited to be the first one to know, and therefore the gatekeeper of information.

Most people went back to their drinks - until he spoke again. "The lottery's been concluded," he said eagerly. "The Marquess will have his bride."

The lottery had been the source of chatter ever since Poe had passed through. Most agreed that it was a good deal - ten gold pieces, for a one in a thousand chance of being eaten by a dragon? Many faced odds far worse than that for less reward every day. Finn even knew of several girls within the village that had submitted their own names.

"Who is it?" Someone called out from the back of the room.

"Some woman from Jakku," the man replied.

"A round of drinks for the poor girl from Jakku! May being eaten by a dragon be as glorious a death as it sounds," the bartender cried, and the sound of another barrel of ale being popped open was met by cheers from the room.

"What's her name?" Finn shouted over the ruckus. Tomorrow, he'd ride out to see Rey. Maybe she'd know the girl who was chosen.

"Her name…" The man paused for dramatic effect, and the room quieted as they listened for his answer. Finn leaned forward, eager to know.

If only he knew how his next words would cause his heart to stop, then leap into his throat, racing a mile a minute.

"...is Rey."

A/N: Welp, I've finally decided to jump into the Reylo trash bin. Greeting, brethren.

I love medieval AUs so much. This is one of two medieval Reylo AUs I've had bouncing around in my head for a while, but this is the more developed of the two, so I figured I'd work on this one! I'm in the interesting situation of having a definite beginning and a definite end, but the middle has a bit of that hand-wavey "relationship develops" bullshit going on right now. It'll hopefully become clearer as I continue writing.

Sorry there's no Kylo Ren in this chapter! This chapter was originally meant to combined with the second chapter, but it got waytoo long. As a result, this chapter ended up very...exposition-y. Rey and Kylo will meet next chapter, I promise.

So no set update schedule for this for the time being - I'm going to try and churn out chapters as quick as I can, but setting dates stresses me out. Be assured: I'll try to pump out chapters as quickly as possible, so we can get to the fun parts of the story!

That being said: I hope you all enjoy this story, and I'm looking forward to getting more involved in the Reylo community and getting to know you all!