My master, not myself, lacks recompense.

Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,

And let your fervor, like my master's, be

Placed in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty.

-Viola, The Twelfth Night

The forests of Hosnian Prime were thick, lush, and teeming with life. Poe Dameron picked his way across a well-worn path along the shore of a small lake. The morning was cool, but bright. Sunlight shone through the leaves, etching patterns on the forest floor. His droid, BB-8 followed behind him in a whir of mechanized babbling. The droid loved the weekly trek they made from camp to the stone villa tucked away in an obliging copse of trees.

Birdie's home was a half hour hike into the forest. Poe paused for a moment, admiring the old brick structure. Twisting vines and wildflowers decorated her home. She'd been living here for a year, and he was pleasantly surprised at how well she'd taken to life there. He smiled, remembering when he'd first brought her here. It would have been easier to get blood from a stone rather than try to make conversation. She had retreated into her home, cultivating and refining it until she'd felt comfortable. For a long time, he and BB-8 were the only visitors. Not even they were quite welcome.

He was pretty sure that she forgave him for uprooting her and hiding her away with the Galactic Resistance.

BB-8 chirped happily beside him. You're boring when you get lost in thought like that.

Poe laughed, 'Thanks for that little buddy.'

One of the young resistance fighters was sat on Birdie's porch, enjoying a cup of tea and breathing in the scent of pine needles. A leg bound in a cast was stretched out before him, along with a walking cane. He smiled in greeting, raising his hand as Poe approached.

'Morning Dameron!'

'Morning Cage,' Poe replied.

'I'm guessing you're here to see Bird.'

In spite of himself, Poe felt a flare of jealously light up in his gut. He'd originally shortened her already short nickname… which was short for Briseis. He felt stupidly protective over it. He'd originally called her Birdie because he had trouble pronouncing her name (and who wouldn't, although BB-8 seemed to get it right), and she was like a bird. Lithe and pretty, with a very becoming singsong voice.

'Yeah,' Poe answered, more curtly than he intended.

'She's out back in the garden.'

Poe nodded his head and walked into the house. It was a big and airy affair, something left over from the old Republic. It was built out of grey brick and mortar. From the entrance, Poe could already see the garden, walking through a columned portico surrounding a fountain that lay in the middle of the house. Birdie had ripped up some of the floor tiles and grew vegetables, herbs, and wildflowers.

The smell always hit him first; perfume with an earthy undertone. It smelled just like her.

'Bird?' he called out.

She popped up from the cover of green, leafy foliage. 'Hello Poe!' she replied, her lips quirking into a smile.

He walked out into the garden, BB-8 following closely behind. 'Hello to you too,' Birdie added, bending over so she could pat the little droid on the head. It bleeped a happy greeting to her. To be fair, it wasn't hard to be taken with Birdie. She was sweet and had always been exceedingly kind to the droid, just like she was to everything living.

Even though her and Poe had gotten off to a rocky start, she'd eventually warmed to him. Finally, they had become friends. She'd even started laughing at his teasing instead of bristling at him, and was getting used to hugging in lieu of formal handshakes. Poe had been more than willing to oblige her with human contact, after she had lived so long without it.

'What kind of business would you like me to sort out this time?' she asked, taking off her gloves and walking through the garden, toward the shade of the portico.

Poe followed her along. 'So I need a reason to have a visit with you?' he asked teasingly.

'You know that you don't Poe, or you BB-8,' she added, winking at the droid, who buzzed, delighted.

'Tea, then?' Poe asked pointedly, smiling.

She sighed, smiling broadly. Stopping under the portico she pulled the handkerchief from her head and used it to mop her brow. Her brownish-blonde hair was tied back in an intricate braid, looping around her head, framing her pale skin and dark green eyes. She was flushed from working outside.

Poe wondered if he'd ever seen anything more beautiful.

'Come on then you two,' she instructed, leading the way into the house's kitchen.

She had left the doors open, showing off the picturesque view of the lake. The sound of water lolling against the shore could have put Poe to sleep. Hosnian Prime reminded him of his home on Yavin 4. He loved being near tall trees and water; it evoked his childhood… when things were a lot simpler and happier.

'I think that Myron is ready to go home,' she said, referring to the young man sat contentedly on her porch. She warmed up an old kettle of water.

Poe snorted, 'Are you kidding me? He wouldn't leave here if one of the vid stars put up shop down the street and offered to marry him.' He cringed when she turned her back to him to tend to the kettle. In truth, he had no idea how to broach the subject he needed to chat with her about. Making dumb jokes like this would surely put her off.

Birdie chuckled. 'That's nice then. I'm happy people like coming here.'

'Why wouldn't they? It's a vacation out here compared to the camps.'

She cocked her head, 'But I've heard the best pilot in the galaxy has a very accommodating flat.'

He shrugged, 'It's no hidden paradise, but it does the job. I mean for all the other fighters. Their digs are pretty simple. I'm sure being surrounded by beautiful plants and an even more beautiful woman is a welcome change.'

Birdie blushed. She was quick to change the subject. 'You've hurt yourself,' she said, pointing to his right shoulder, 'I thought I told you to give it a rest, Mr. Dameron.'

'How do you know everything?' he asked, smiling.

'So that's why you're here,' she told him, placing dried herbs in an earthenware cup and pouring steaming water over it. The brew smelled spicy and Poe gladly took it from her hands.

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, had relics from the Republican days. There was a large stucco hearth, and the counter space was immense, as though the kitchen was meant to be used by hired help. Birdie had kept the original furnishings, polishing the wood, and doing her best to repair anything broken. Poe occasionally brought her back gifts from other planets, things like elaborately painted vases and expensive looking dishes. But after her year in captivity Birdie cared little for material things, preferring the outdoors and wide spaces.

BB-8 bleeped, letting the two of them know he was going to power down in the garden. It was his favourite place in the house. They watched him roll out excitedly.

'He loves visiting you Bird, you know,' Poe explained.

'Well, he's welcome anytime, if we can ever drag him away from you,' she baited lightly. 'Let me take a look at that shoulder,' she demanded, putting her tea down on the table and moving to stand behind him.

Knowing the drill, Poe removed his jacket, and then his long-sleeved black shirt. She placed both her hands on his skin, humming to herself as heat from her palms soaked through to his aching muscles. He'd torn something in his shoulder on the Starkiller mission over a month ago, and repeated visits to Birdie had helped him recover.

He sighed as she healed him, all the knots and pain unwinding in his back.

'There's something else on your mind Poe,' she said. Her senses were always heightened when using the force. Though she couldn't read minds, she could tell that there was a particular thought niggling at him.

His heartbeat quickened as he remembered his conversation with General Organa earlier that day.

'That's what the First Order wanted to do with her, breed her?' Leia Organa asked Poe, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

He nodded his head. He hated talking about it. Thinking about Birdie, who was meant to give life to things, and heal things, and make things better, stuck in a dark cell for months on end, was enough to make his fists clench in rage. If he ever got his hands on that Kylo Ren...

'And… did they?'

Poe shook his head. 'From what she told me, no one touched her. I don't know if she would have been able to…'

'Dameron, healers are excessively rare in force users. Even Luke had trouble pulling that off,' she told him, sighing heavily.

Leia had given him a hard look, a look that meant she was about to ask him to do something he wasn't going to like.

'What are you implying General?' he asked her cautiously.

'There is something I have to talk to you about Birdie. It's important, and I don't think you're going to like it. In fact, I'm actually certain you aren't.' Poe told her, folding his hands over her own and removing them from his aching joint.

'What is it?' she asked, her voice barely registering above a whisper.

'N-nothing, look,' he grabbed a chair, pulling it close to him. He had no idea where to begin. 'Bird, sit down.'

Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she sat, fisting her hands in her tunic. 'Is it… I know that I'm not good at seeing lots of people at once, but I-I could-'

'Shhhh, Bird, don't worry. You aren't going anywhere,' he told her softly, wanting desperately to wipe her tears away.

'What is it then, Poe?' she asked, leaning in close to him.

'Bird… have you ever thought of having children?'

'Having children?' she echoed.

He nodded his head. 'Of becoming a mother?'

She knitted her eyebrows together. 'I haven't really… no. I'm not sure I'd like it if my children… turned out to be like me…'

'Really? Because you know that healing is a really special thing, Bird. Not even Luke Skywalker can do it all the time.'

Her green eyes widened. 'Really?'

Poe nodded. 'Yes… and if you had children that could heal… that could be very… beneficial to us…'

'Beneficial?'

Poe could see her registering his words. She leaned her head against her hand, staring up at the ceiling. 'The General wants more people like me to help the resistance?'

Poe nodded his head. 'People like you are hard to find Bird… really hard. That's why you were held captive for so long… the First Order, well, they wanted children by you and one of their more powerful force users.'

Birdie balked at that. 'I can't believe that! I never even saw anyone once the whole year I was locked up there! No doctors or anything!'

Poe nodded. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking that it was going to be hard to convince her to do it for real, for the Resistance this time.

She seemed to be ahead of him, understanding with General Organa was going to ask of her. Birdie stood up, walking over to the kitchen counter and digging the heels of her palms into the wood. 'You want me to make healer children,' she whispered, bowing her head.

'Yeah,' Poe answered gravely.

'How?' she questioned, turning around, pinning him with her gaze. 'Is this something I can do by myself?'

He wasn't sure if she was naïve or sarcastic. 'Well… um Birdie… I think that you need someone else,' he answered honestly.

'Whom would you suggest I make children with then?' she asked.

Poe shrugged his shoulders. 'How about with me?'