12/4/1

Once again, Poe's whipping up some muffins.

This time, they're good. Granted, this time, he's in the communal kitchen, where there are things like flour, sugar, eggs, butter, and a real oven. And he's got one of the datapads, which has a library of pretty much everything, including cookbooks. (One of these days, he'll remember to ask Rey where she got this, and see if he can visit. He's got the sense he'd likely enjoy it.)

Given that, they damn well better be good.

Knocking.

On the door.

Kylo opens one eye when Rey pokes him. He doesn't verbalize a question, but she answers him nonetheless. "You wanted to be out in the open, you get to answer the door when someone wants to visit at the crack of dawn to gawk at you."

He grumbles a little at that, but not too much. Mostly, because she's probably right. If someone is knocking this early it likely is someone curious about him.

Rey being right, however, does not stop him from stealing the top blanket, which gets a disgruntled "Mhrh!" out of Rey, while she burrows further into the remaining ones. He wraps it around himself, and goes to open the door.

Maybe, if this is the sort of thing that might happen often, he should have his bathrobe here.

The door in front of Poe opens, and standing in front of him, looking half-asleep, grumpy, wrapped in a blanket, and likely nothing else, is Ren.

Poe smiles up at him, really noticing how tall he is, holding out the muffins. "Good morning."

Ren looks confused by the offer, blinking at Poe and the steaming muffins, and he doesn't step away from the door, letting Poe in.

"I take it neighbors are a new and unusual concept for you. Normally, you step back, let me in, and offer me some coffee to go with the muffins."

Ren steps back, threads one arm out of the blankets, rubs hand through his hair, waits for Poe to come in, closes the door, and then says, "What are you doing?"

"You really are terrible at this, aren't you?" Poe replies, putting the muffins on the table, heading over to the cooker to make the coffee himself. "This is called 'being welcoming.' It's a thing people do, to make other people feel comfortable in… I guess this isn't a new place for you, but you get the idea, right?"

Ren nods slowly, still staring at Poe like he's not entirely sure what Poe is.

Poe pours water into the coffee pot. He can feel Ren watching him.

Kylo blinks again. The pilot is in his kitchen, having put muffins, that smell pretty good, on his table, and is now making coffee and talking about 'welcoming.'

It's not the most surreal moment of his life, but it's got to be in the top ten.

His lips are rubbing together, and he can't feel any threat, but… Of all the things that could have happened, this is…

"Why?"

Poe glances at him as he lifts the lid from the coffee pot. He half shrugs. "We're likely better off getting along than not."

He's right about that. Kylo nods at him. He goes to the cooler, and gets the butter, milk, and jam out. "Okay." He doesn't have much to say after that, but he does notice there are six eggs in there, so… "You like eggs?"

"I like pretty much anything. You cook?"

"I cook."

Poe's watching him, trying to really see him. Figuring there's got to be something Rey likes about this man, other than the fact that he's huge, and muscly, (stupidly muscly. What the hell does he do when he's not here, bench press fighters?) and smells good (He's fairly certain Ren didn't smell this good when he was interrogating him.), and has nice hair. (He's growling at himself in his head, if this weren't Rey's man, Leia's son, and Kylo Fucking Ren, he'd be beyond tempted to make a pass at him. No, scratch that, as is, he's tempted. If he weren't Rey's man, Leia's son, and Kylo Fucking Ren, he'd have already made that pass. And likely gotten smacked for it. His father used to say there were plenty of stars in the sky, but it seems awfully clear that Ren's not in the galaxy where Poe does his stargazing.)

He's wrapped the blanket around him, tucked it in at his chest, and does, in fact, appear to know his way around a collection of eggs and a fry pan.

"Leia teach you that?" he asks as Ren swirls butter around the pan.

Apparently that's a bad question, because Ren stiffens at it, and then, not looking at Poe, cracks the first of the eggs into the hot butter. "No." He's doing that thing where he chews on his lip, and it's such a… soft, nervous gesture that Poe suddenly understands why Kylo Ren wears a mask. No one would find this puppy face intimidating.

He turns to Poe, shoulders hunched a little. "Look, I know… I can feel how you felt about her, but… I don't have what you're looking for. I don't have cute family stories. I don't have good memories of growing up with her. I was eight when she and my father packed me up and shipped me away to Luke."

Poe pours the coffee and hands a cup of it over to Ren.

"Maybe I'm looking to get to know you, not just see ghosts of her?"

"Why would you want that?"

Poe takes his own cup and adds a little milk to it. He returns his look to Kylo. "Because it doesn't balance if I write you off. Because people can change, and encouraging and acknowledging that matters. Because one of my favorite people gave birth to you, and another one loves you, and I owe it to both of them to try. Because I'm not dead, and you had no reason to let me keep breathing. I didn't exactly enjoy what you did to me, but I've been tortured by people who meant it, and…" He rubs his left index and middle finger, tracing the scars bacta erased, aware of the memories it couldn't, and inclines his head a little. Ren wasn't that hard on him. "So… I figure I should get to know you."

Kylo half-inclines his head. "Best pilot in the Resistance. You said that when we met."

"I think you said that to me."

"If I did, it's because I got it out of your head."

Poe shrugs, that's fair enough. He was the best damn pilot in the Resistance, and he knows it, and that's that.

Kylo flips the eggs. "That was supposed to be me. That's what I wanted to be when I was little, before they sent me away to be a Jedi. You loved her, and I could feel that, too. She loved you, or at least you believed it. That was in there, also. She approved of you. You were beaming with that. I could feel how proud you were of her affection. And… I knew she'd feel it if you died. She was never sensitive enough to read thoughts and feelings, not at the kind of distance we were at, but she'd know if you were dead. She was good at dead, at burying that hurt. But vanished? It'd gnaw at her forever. She'd always have to keep looking for you. It'd hurt worse if you just vanished."

Poe nods slowly. "Ah." It's clear he's not sure what to do with that.

Kylo shrugs a little. You wanted to know, clear on his face, and possibly in his thoughts. Poe's not sure if he's reading it off of Kylo's body language or actually hearing it. "You said you flew in her vanguard…"

"Yeah. I was seventeen when I joined her protection guard. She was still with the senate then. I followed her to the Resistance."

Kylo eyes him. He knows that Poe's older than he is, but not by a lot. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-six now."

Kylo thinks through that. "Did you ever escort her to…" He realizes he doesn't know the name of the planet Luke was on. He remembers the coordinates though, and rattles them off. "Would have been about the time you were twenty."

"Onerios. The Dreamer. Yeah. Twice."

"Would have been the last two times she visited me in person."

"You joined the First Order then? That was… right after things got hot."

Kylo shakes his head, plopping the eggs onto plates. "No. I was there for another eight years. That's just when she stopped visiting me."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He flips the eggs. "Luke taught me how to do this. Leia… Mom… she didn't cook for us. We had servants for that."

"You didn't miss out with that. She was a fucking terrible cook," Poe says with a little half-smile. "She'd mess up tea. Way too many leaves, or not enough, or let it stew so long it'd be tar. Normally, when we needed something like that, she'd make sure someone else made it, and then she'd be good about handing it out, making sure everyone got some."

"Then why ask if she taught me?"

Poe smirks a bit. "Well, if she had, I might have decided I wasn't very hungry. Might have eaten a few of the muffins before bringing them over, you know?"

Kylo stares at him for a second, and then laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of this.

Rey comes out, wrapped in her robe, and one of the blankets. She's pleased to see Poe and Kylo standing next to each other, making breakfast, getting along.

"You two need pajamas," Poe says, handing her cup of coffee over. "You know you can do more than sleep in them."

Rey smirks a little at that. "Well, if you're going to keep bringing me breakfast, I might think about getting a set." She sits down at the table. "Might not need them all that much longer. New insulation on this cottage… day after tomorrow?"

Poe nods. They're working their way up the street. "Yeah, it'll be good to get these cottages all nice and snug. Weather satellite's saying snow tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest."

Kylo puts the egg plates down, and sits next to Rey. She offers him a little smile, and kisses his shoulder.

Poe joins them, looking at the cups of coffee. "Okay, here's one, how the hell did you get a taste for coffee? I never saw her drink it. The First Order didn't look like it was spending money on luxuries for anyone but Snoke. Did he like it? Did you guys grow it at Luke's place? How?"

Rey's interested in this, too. She's never thought to ask, because she still hasn't really internalized how rare this is.

Kylo rolls his eyes a little as he sips his. "Alderaan. It had an ideal climate along a wide band of the equator to grow good coffee. Lots of mountains with a warm, damp in the mornings, dry in the evenings, climate. And, of course, Her Royal Highness, Princess Leia of Alderaan, didn't have any trouble getting all the coffee she liked. She didn't like the way wine made her feel, and tea was considered… plebian, it was practically a weed on Alderaan… so, coffee.

"My dad would find it for her. 'What's the point of being a smuggler if I can't lay hands on a few kilos of coffee?' He was trying to be nice, get her something to remind her of home, make her happy. And she'd always smile and drink it, and… it was never right. I could feel that. It never tasted right, and every cup would just remind her of what she no longer had. So, she'd always make it for me, or anyone with us, or my father if he was around, or… Anyone.

"Anyway, I liked it. And once she knew that, she was more than happy to give it all to me. She'd drink it when she was with Dad, but for the most part, she'd hand it off to me. Luke made me share it with the rest of the Jedi, but… it was still good."

"Did she talk about Alderaan much?" Poe asks.

"No, but…" And Kylo's look more than covers how she didn't have to. Not around him.

"Oh. Is it weird, being able to feel all this stuff?" Poe's never asked either of them that.

"I thought it was when it turned on," Rey says. "I'm a lot more used to it now. But especially when the kids are stressed and projecting, it can feel really strange to just get this surge of something, and for a moment having no idea why I'm feeling whatever it is."

Kylo raises a shoulder. "Is it weird not being able to feel all of this stuff? All of my life has been spent with other people who were in and out of my head as they desired."

Poe looks distinctly uncomfortable at that idea.

Kylo half-smiles at him. "No, it's not as bad as you're thinking. It was worse."

Rey raises an eyebrow.

"He's thinking about being a teenager."

Poe shakes his head. "No one would have been better off in my head when I was a kid."

"That was my opinion on the subject, too. The Force didn't seem interested in allowing me my privacy, though."

"Ouch."

There's not much to say after that, so they sit there, eating, quietly. Eventually, Rey gives Kylo a little mental nudge keep talking to him.

About what?

Anything. This is good. You feel it, right?

Ish. It reminds him a bit of state dinners. He's not sure he likes this, but he can feel it may be moving him toward something useful. So, after a few seconds of everyone chewing, he comes up with a question. "Why don't you have a cottage?"

"Just easier to live in my ship. Got my quarters just the way I like 'em. Don't have to worry about if I remembered the things I need. I'm off world enough that a cottage would almost feel like wasted space."

Kylo can understand that.

"Where's the next run?" Rey asks, taking a bite of her muffin. "These are good."

"Those cookbooks in your library are good, too." Poe breaks his muffin in half, and spreads some jam on it, thinking. "Not sure, yet. Unless I'm looking for something specific, I get out there and kind of just… feel it. Probably need to pick up more feed for the faviers, so somewhere with grass."

"That narrows it down to what, nine million planets?" Kylo says.

Poe smirks. "Something like that."

"So… what were you looking for in Gidi Secundus?" Kylo asks, thinking that qualifies as a question, and keeping the conversation going.

Poe sniggers. "Uh…" He smiles. "A good time. I've never been there on official business. It's big enough no one knows me. My size and coloring means I blend in well." He eyes Kylo. "You were what, half a head taller than everyone else?"

"Enough so that when I attempted to locate something like local dress, I was wondering if you'd picked it on purpose just to fuck with me."

Poe sniggers. "If I'd been thinking about it, I might have. But, Mitaka, according to your official file, you're only two centimeters taller than I am, so…"

Kylo shakes his head at that. "Mitaka."

"He not one of your pets?"

"I don't have pets."

"Jon. He's got Jon," Rey says.

"Jon is not a pet."

"He's your friend. That's what you mean, right, Poe?"

Poe and Kylo share a look. Both of them have enough command experience to know that that's not what they mean. But thinking so seems to make Rey happy, so Poe says, "Sure. Who's Jon?"

Kylo doesn't want to answer for a moment. Part of him is keenly aware of the fact that he's sitting across from the highest ranked, living, member of the Resistance, and filling him in on who he relies on could be a bad plan. Another part is keenly aware of the token on Poe's chest, one very similar to the one he's wearing right now, and… "My friend. He's uh… an armor designer originally. If all goes well, I'll have him building me a diplomatic corps soon."

Poe blinks. "That's a leap. Don't you have… people… who specialize in things like that?"

Kylo sends him an annoyed look. Not annoyed at Poe, but the situation. "The First Order was woefully short of diplomats."

Poe sniggers a bit. "I suppose that's one way to put it. So, you're… really giving this getting along thing a go?"

"Trying."

Rey squeezes his hand. "Succeeding."

He rolls his eyes. "A centimeter at a time, maybe. Some days."

Poe glances toward the window looking out at their settlement. "That's all any of us are ever doing."

He's got some time before he needs to be back, and…

Like he said to Poe, he's trying to do this getting along thing, and…

Leia'd said he'd be useful.

Maybe.

He could probably get his own C3-PO, not like they're bespoke suits, each one crafted for its individual owner. The programming is the same, the database is the same, the rules don't vary or change.

But he can't get one with Threepio's experience. With all of his mother's contacts and secrets.

He squares his shoulders, swallows, and heads across the street to Threepio's cottage.

Kylo knocks, and waits, and a moment later the door hisses open. Threepio stares at him, unblinking gold eyes fixed on his. He doesn't move out of the way or make any indication he's going to let Kylo into his home.

They stand there for a moment before Threepio says, "Ben," voice cold and clipped.

Kylo winces. This is a protocol droid. This droid has never called anyone by the wrong name without their title. This droid used to call him Master Ben when he was six. He knows Kylo's correct name and title. He's intentionally using his word choice to slap him in a way he can't with his hand.

"Never mind," Kylo says, turning away.

"Stop. You're here for a reason."

He is, but asking for it feels wrong. I've had nothing to do with you for twenty years, now come work for me. He takes a breath and says, "My mother said that you were the reason she was able to do a lot of what she did. You made people comfortable and that made them interested in working with her."

Threepio's got an electronic brain. He's got an always unchanging metal face. Kylo cannot, or at least, should not be able to read him through the Force, but he does feel the idea that Leia credited at least some of her success to Threepio pleases him to no end. He gives Kylo a curt, little nod, acknowledging that his efforts helped.

"Would you like to get back into that business?"

"I have a job I'm perfectly content with, Ben."

"Okay. If you change your mind… I have someone I'm setting up a diplomatic corps with, and he's going to need help, and… If you were of a mind…"

Threepio inclines his head a bit. "Not you?"

"Not me, personally. Jon reports to me, but if working with me is a sticking point, you wouldn't have to be working with me."

"Who would teach here?"

"I don't know. But I have the feeling there are a lot more teachers in this galaxy than there are Threepios with fifty plus years of political experience in any and every level of government that matters."

Threepio seems pleased by that. He always liked flattery, especially if it's true.

"I have lessons planned for the next month. Between now and then, arrange a time for me to meet…"

"Lt. Colonel Jonathan Frakes."

Threepio thinks about that. "Lt. Colonel Frakes. Low rank for a man creating a diplomatic corps. It doesn't sound as if this particularly matters to you. The man in charge of your diplomatic corps should have, at the bare minimum, the title of Grand Marshall."

"He's requested it for the time being, preferring the anonymity that comes with a lower rank. He feels like he'll have an easier time building if he's got fewer people watching him."

"Sounds like he's got some brains in his head. I want to meet my replacement, too."

"I can do that. There's one condition on my end." He waits to see if Threepio's interested enough to find out what it is, fortunately he bites.

"And that is?"

Kylo's eyes and voice are cold. "I'm giving you the opportunity to help build the diplomatic corps of an actual government that functions in accord with political principals that you supposedly support. As such, I require the trappings of respect from you. I don't give a damn how you actually feel about me, but you will use my title. My formal title is Master of the Order Kylo Ren. Master Ren, sir, My Lord, all of them are fine. Here, I'm Master Kylo of the Maji, and as such, Master Kylo is fine, too. But not Ben, that name doesn't leave you mouth again, not in reference to me."

Threepio doesn't appear to be impressed by that, but… well, he can't be. "I'll think on it."

Meetings. More and more and more. It doesn't help that three of the ones he was supposed to have yesterday were… upended… and had to get shoved into today.

But, eventually, he hits the half hour a day he sets for his lunch break. "Kinear, would you join me for lunch?"

"Certainly, sir."

When the other members of his general staff have meandered out of his office, and lunch for both of them has arrived, Kylo says, "You have a first name, don't you?"

"Yes, Patrick. My friends call me Pat," Kinear says as he dabs the corner of his sandwich into the bowl of soup next to it.

"May I?"

Kinear smiles at that. "I'd appreciate it, Kylo."

Kylo nods. "Good. As for getting off my ass and marrying her, I know you can register as a spouse in the database, and push come to shove that'll cover the basics, that said, I assume there's more to doing it right than that."

Kinear's got a wide grin on his face, as he says, "And you know that because somewhere in that register is a version of Ben Solo who's got a spouse."

Kylo smiles. "But that's not enough, not for Kylo Ren."

"Exactly, and it's especially not enough for any future Rens."

Kylo takes a bite of his sandwich. "Get talking."

Kinear takes a sip of his tea. "Have you given any thought to how the next Master becomes the next Master?"

"Yes, but I'm rather hoping not to be assassinated in a coup."

Kinear smirks at that. "We're working on avoiding that. Assuming you get to give your power away peacefully, how is it going to go? Will they vote you out at some point? Will one of your children become the next Master? If it's the former, you can set up any sort of marriage ceremony you like, or just register under your real name with your lady. If it's the later, you likely want it absolutely blasterproof that any child carrying your name is yours."

Kinear gives him a long look at that one, and Kylo knows what he's not asking. "Unlikely to be an issue."

"But not impossible."

"Not impossible. Though I'd assume any woman I'd gotten a child on would have come forward by now."

Kinear gives him a look that he understands as, maybe. "Likely. But, again, not impossible she's hiding. Emperors often don't want a child to pop up, because they complicate things."

Kylo nods. He can see that.

"Or she isn't entirely sure the child could pass a DNA test." Given that two of the three women he's had the kind of sex that could make babies with were Pleasure Specialists, that's a legitimate consideration. "That said, first named child has the best claim in any sort of heredity system unless the law specifies legitimate issue…" Kinear lets that hang, too.

"I'll open it to their vote. Let them decide how I'll be replaced. Not necessarily when, but they can pick how, and if they go for a vote, if one of my children wants it… I'm sure elections can be won."

Kinear's pleased at that idea, and he lets slip a heartbeat of thought of several of his children and grandchildren also standing for election.

Kylo's not sure what to think of that, but he supposes it's good. This is how… systems that move the way you want them to get built, right? You put your people into place? Or at least put them into a place where they could then move into power?

"Since you're leaving it open for right now, you want something… public. You're the Master, so you get to decide what's necessary for legal, but the more people who can see your bride, know your wife, know any children you have are hers and yours, and show up at least a year after a wedding, the better off their claim will be."

"So… Is there anything I have to have?"

Kinear shrugs. "A billion witnesses?"

"I meant… a contract? Vows? A… minister or judge? Someone to officiate?"

"A contract is useful, mostly for clarifying what your… What's her name?"

"Rey."

"It'll be good for clarifying Rey's position in this government now, and what she'll be if you decide at some future point to not be married, and it'll cover who gets what if you divorce, too."

"I don't think that's necessary."

Kinear hits him with a withering look, and a non-verbal, don't be stupid. "A hundred-trillion other men have said that, too, and lost everything. Get the damn contract written. If you're feeling stupidly romantic leave out the dispersal of goods, but make sure you clarify her position. As for the rest… Most people get married by their faith, so… what do…" And it's clear that Kinear knows a lot about Kylo, but he doesn't know this. "You're not actually a Sith, right? I know you aren't a Jedi."

Kylo shakes his head. "No. Snoke wasn't either. The best I know, Darth Vader was the last Sith. I'm a Maji."

Kinear takes that word in stride. He's never heard it before, but that doesn't matter to him. There are just as many religions as there are systems in this galaxy, and if Kylo's got one he's unfamiliar with, so do a lot of people. "What do Maji do for a wedding?"

Kylo opens and closes his mouth. Then he says, "I guess we'll find out." He's about to leave it there, but… He's been to two weddings, and one of them, Lando and Annilie's, he barely remembers, and he didn't show up at Finn and Rose's until the actual getting married part of it was over. And, really, Poe can attempt to fondle Jon all he wants, but he's certain that's not going to do it, so… "How'd you and Ellie do it?"

Kinear looks surprised. "How did we… get married?"

"Yes. Obviously, it happened, so… What did you do?"

Kinear laughs a bit. "Ancient history. Galactic City, it was Galactic City back then. The Republic was almost five years shy of the Clone wars, and Coruscant had its own military forces. 'Police,' supposedly. I was a Police Lieutenant, an 'up and comer' known for having a talent at putting down the eternally ongoing insurrections on the lower levels. I was supposed to rise high, there was a possibility of eventually running the Police system.

"Ellie's family were top-level businessmen. Lived high enough up to have the sun on their face every day."

Kylo knows that means something, a status marker, but he's never been to Coruscant, and doesn't get the immediate reference.

"It was a big deal. They were wealthy, but not politically connected, and it looked like one day, assuming I could get my hands on enough credits to flow through the right channels, I'd be politically connected.

"Her mum and mine got talking, and a month later they're 'chaperoning' our first meeting, seeing if we can be in the same room without biting each other's heads off. That being the minimum standard necessary for a successful political marriage by Coruscant standards."

"I take it you got on."

"We got on. It didn't hurt that I was young and ambitious and she was heart-stoppingly beautiful and just as smart."

Kylo laughs at that.

"A month after we met, our parents wrote up the contract, signed it, held a big party, she moved into my home, and that was that."

Kylo doesn't wince, but that feels distinctly lacking.

Kinear reads that look off his face, and pulls his sleeve up, so Kylo can see the leather band he wears around his wrist. "Ten years later, after we had a few adventures, grew up enough on our own, and together, to appreciate what we had, hell, after we'd built a lot of what we had, after we learned to be a team, she got me this." There's a long, twisty knot embossed into the band. "No beginning, no end. Pull on the strings, and they'll tighten into each other, drawing together." He touches the knot. "The silver's worn off, but the knot is still there." Kinear takes another sip of his tea. "I'm going to guess you already know this, but if you don't… A wedding is not a marriage."

"That part I knew."

"Good. The wedding is a pretty party. For you, it's jumping through some hoops to make the future easier. The marriage, that's every day. You're in a position where you can have the biggest, fanciest party you like. But the next day, you're still going to wake up the same way you do every other day. It's not going to change anything. It's not going to fix anything. It's just a party. What you do with or about it is up to you and her."

Kylo inclines his head.

"So… when do we get to meet her?" Kinear asks with a smile.

"I'm working on that, too."

Kinear nods. Then he does something he generally doesn't, hesitate, not sure if he should say what comes next.

Kylo raises an eyebrow at him.

"It's… different… for women. At least, that's what Ellie tells me. There's more… nuance, to everything. They don't judge on the same standards we do. At least, not in the world she lives in, and your Rey… She's not actually a member of the Order, right?"

"No."

"If she ever feels like she needs help, and Ellie'll tell you, she'll need help—"

"Ellie would tell you I need help, too."

"And she's not wrong about that," Kinear says with pointed voice.

"Working on that, too."

"Really?"

"Maybe… I'm encouraging Rey that this could be something we learn together."

Kinear smiles. A wide, bright smile. "If you get her to agree, I've got someone who would love to offer a collection of gentle, appropriate, discreet lessons."

"I bet you do." Kylo glances at his plate, notices he hasn't eaten much of his lunch, and that his half hour of lunchtime is rapidly dwindling away.

When they break up for the next round of meetings, Kinear heads off with a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

"Rey?"

Normally, when Kylo gets back, Rey's in their living/kitchen area. Today though…

He can feel her, in the bedroom, and a sense of wonder coming from her.

Stepping in, he notices that the room is dark, and she says, "Shut the door," as soon as he steps in.

"Okay… We're… Oh!" He grins when he realizes what he's seeing.

Rey's sitting on their bed, lights off, watching the snow falling, catching the lights of the windows of the other cottages in Lirium.

"It just started," she says as he heads over to her, sitting behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

He can see that, all of the buildings are looking exactly the way they normally do, and the cobblestones of the street are still visible. But soon… "Are we supposed to get enough to sled?"

"I don't know. Ten to fifteen centimeters."

"That'll do."

It's late, well past midnight, when a few members of the Maji wake up to the sound of shrieking laughter.

The chapel's not on much of a hill, but it's enough. Especially after the first two passes, when the path's been smoothed down.

More than a few eyes notice Rey and her man… Kylo… on some sort of flat piece of plasteel, sliding down the hill.

Jacen's the first one to decide this isn't a private party. He unscrews the legs from his table, grabs it, and heads out to join the fun, Critt a few steps behind.

And after that, Poe decides there's no way he's missing out on this.

And by that point Elias, and Savarah, and Magiit are out there, wrapped in their warm clothing, running up to the top of the hill, flinging themselves down it, sliding fast and wild on the packed-down snow.

And Finn eventually yells at them, because some of them have a baby who wakes up twice a night, and sleep is precious, and stop being so loud.

Most of the younger kids sleep through the racket. Much to their great annoyance in the morning.

And in the morning… It's not a rumor, though it might be gossip, that Master Kylo and Master Poe got into a competition over which one of the two of them could sled the furthest and fastest, and both of them got their butts whipped by Rey. (Though there's some suggestion that just possibly, maybe, he'd never admit it, but Ren might have, maybe, Critt swears to it, gave her a bit of a nudge on the way down.)