12/31/1
There's literally not a single word in Kylo's head when he steps into his room. The sight of Rey took them all away and all he can do is stare at her in mute wonder. And for as much as he's not about to be an Emperor, he knows what he's seeing, his Empress, standing, waiting for him.
He blinks a few times, and tries to speak, but… There's nothing.
Jon crosses the room, bends his lips to Rey's ear, and whispers something. She smiles at it, glances to Rose, who is grinning from ear to ear, and then smiles at him and… Jon's mom and sister are looking very smugly pleased… And he can't move, or think, or… anything. He just wants to be here and watch. He's seen every ugliness the galaxy has to offer, and to have a moment to stand in the presence of ethereal beauty…
He doesn't really notice the others leaving. He just knows that at one point they had guests, and at another they were alone.
He licks his lips, feeling like he should say something but… there just aren't words.
She's smiling brighter as he draws closer, something of a smirk on her lips, and a bright twinkle in her eyes. "He said you'd go speechless."
Kylo nods. He licks his lips, and swallows, and he's on his knees before he's given it a thought. He's knelt before, to masters who didn't deserve him, who didn't want anything good for him, for lies and promises never to be kept. And now, he's here, before his queen. His lady, his love, his light, his wife. His life and future all bound up and twined through her Force and his and if anyone, anything was ever worth him on his knees, this is it.
He reaches for her hands, beaming up at her, something deeper, and more settled than joy, but just as bright and attentive pouring off of him. Rey steps to him, not entirely sure what to do with him kneeling in front of her. This is… he's awash in so many emotions, and they're flowing through him, through her, and her eyes are starting to tear up, which is killing her because she's got no idea if the stuff they put on her face will still be there if she starts to cry, and now's not a time to cry, now's happy, but somehow happy feels like it needs to leak out of her face, and he's still staring up at her, eyes soft, bright, no words, not yet, but feelings… So many feelings.
She traces his face with her right hand, fingers caressing his cheek and jawline as he gazes up at her.
She's watching him. She's seen his traditional command blacks, and his full battle gear, but this is different. Black trousers, black shoes, a fitted black jacket that covers from just below his chin to his hips. The cut is simpler than his command blacks. No gathers on the sleeves. The detailing subtler, more black on black, with just flashes of silver metal to brighten things up, and a line of white trim on the edges of his jacket and along the leg of his pants. There's a blaze of gray at his throat, the same fabric on Rey's dress. On his cuffs there's a deeper, darker black, but it's got a sheen to it, and when the light hits right it glows a subtle green. His cloak has trim of white and the same gray that's on her dress.
It's very him. Clearly made by Jon, and clearly made for him, and between this and his new command blacks, the ideal of The Master is starting to settle in her mind.
He's wearing his hair down, soft and loose tumbling over his shoulders and back. No gloves. She can see his hands and the ring she placed upon him. A quick sniff tells her he's decided to see what happens when he uses the cologne that's been sitting on the shelf in his bathroom for months. She doesn't know what the scent is, warm… it puts her in mind of… sunset maybe, sunset in a forest… though the idea that there's a scent to sunset makes her feel silly.
He pulls her closer, holding her, his face pressed to her belly, hands on her hips, as she pets his face.
She smiles at him. "I like this, Master Ren."
He shivers at the sound of that. Of her calling him by his rank, and meaning it. He kisses her tummy, and then her hand, each of her fingers. His lips linger on her ring. That's when he remembers he has a present for her, and stands up.
He's finally able to find his voice. "I have something, for you."
"A small something?" she asks, voice light. She doesn't get a lot of presents, and the idea excites her, but he's not obviously holding anything, so it's got to be small enough to fit into a pocket.
"Something small." He feels the thrum of her excitement, and makes a mental note to get her presents more often, then walks her to the mirror, standing her in front of it. And then lets go. "Close your eyes." She does, an amused look on her face, as he goes to his bed, pulling out one of the drawers below it to find the tiny bag. It's exactly where he left it. He takes it in hand, feeling the soft weight of the satin in his palm, and then walks to stand behind her. His fingers land on her shoulders, brushing gently over her skin. His lips follow his fingers, trailing along the line of her shoulder and throat.
She shivers at that.
He smiles against her shoulder. Then takes the necklace out of its satin bag, and drapes it around her neck, clasping it into place. There's a palpable thrill in being able to do it, and an even deeper one that comes from seeing it on her throat.
"Open your eyes."
She does, and for a moment she's just looking. Then a smile slowly spreads across her face as her finger lightly strokes the symbol. It's her spiral in his hexagon, both of their symbols merged, and meant to be worn above her heart.
"It's beautiful, Kylo."
He nods. He pulls her closer, so she's pressed to him, back to front, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror and he says, gently, "Lady Ren, Mistress of the Order of the Maji." He kisses her shoulder again. Kisses where her throat blends to shoulder, and the point of her shoulder, and lifts her hand to his lips. "Blend your mark with mine. Spend your days and nights with me. Rule by my side when we're here, and when we're on Lirium, I'll teach Maji how to fight and how to handle their dark. Be my wife and my queen and my love, and do it where everyone can see. And I'll be your husband, consort, and dark balance, for all the galaxy to see. We'll raise our children and build the galaxy we want them to live in. You and I, together, to the end of our days."
She shivers at that, feeling the weight of it, and the immediate flash of that future. Of both Lady Ren, Mistress of the Order of the Maji, in silks and satins, ruling, and Master Kylo, in his casual blacks, training younger Maji how to be dark, without letting it eat them alive. Of him openly in her space, and her openly in his, and both of them, together, twining into each other, blending those spaces into one.
Balanced.
The way they were meant to be.
She turns in his arms and kisses him, long and sweet. Makeup be damned.
And a bit later, they find out that, apparently, it's water and smudge-proof.
Rey knows that there are things they do before getting ready to stand in the line. She takes Rose home, and Finn, seeing Rose prettied up, has a reaction fairly similar to how Kylo reacted to her. And that pleases her to no end.
Magiit, who's apparently been dragooned into babysitting whistles at both of them, which, where she comes from, is some sort of compliment.
And Marina and Tasha head off to their rooms to get ready for tonight. Jon goes with them.
She and Kylo eat something, small for supper, big for a snack. Dinner will be late, and Jon says it's a good idea to eat before these things. Rey wouldn't know, but she's in favor of eating. Kylo has a small glass of wine with this thing that isn't exactly a snack or meal, which surprises her, but supposedly Jon thinks it's a good idea, so she's not arguing. She doesn't have any for herself, though.
All of it passes in something of a fog. The party is getting closer, and she's getting jittery.
Kylo holds her hand, tries to wash her in a balm of quiet.
It helps, some.
Kylo's eyes light up a bit when Grand Marshall Kinear and his wife approach them. They'll be accompanying them in the receiving line in twenty minutes, when the guests begin joining them. But right now is just the four of them in Kylo's office. "These are the ones I wanted you to meet. Grand Marshall and Lady Kinear."
Rey extends her hand, and Kinear holds it, leaning in to gently kiss her cheek as his lady bows. "Lady…" he leads, awaiting her name.
"Rey… Just Rey."
Kinear draws back, gently stroking the back of her hand, and says quietly. "Not here. Never here. Be 'just Rey' in the privacy of your chambers. Here, you need a name and a title. Even if you would be Lady Rey, that's fine, but use your name as a shield." Then he pulls back, gives her hand a gentle squeeze as if he'd just taken it the first time, and says, "Lady…"
Rey thinks, glances at Kylo, You really want that wedding?
Yes. One word, thought to her, shuddering with want and aching beauty.
And then says, "Amidala," instead of Ren.
Kinear stares at her for a moment. His wife does, too. They look to each other. It's been months since Kinear noticed that Ben Solo changed his 'official name' and took a wife. A few hours after that, Ellie confirmed that Amidala had to have been Ben, and not Rey. They let it lie, because neither of them thought either Amidala would be dumb enough to actually use the damn thing anywhere that could be tracked to them.
"That's a name, all right," Ellie says, with a small smile and a bit of a sigh.
"A storied name. I think, should I spend a million years, I'd never come up with a name like that, by chance," Kinear nods, slowly.
His wife adds, "That's the sort of name one has to mean."
They look from Kylo to Rey again, but in that neither of them immediately leaps to come up with a new name, he glances to his wife and she nods, then he says, "May I tell you a story? It's often the prerogative of old men to tell stories, and this one may be of interest to you."
Rey nods. She can feel the tension, but also wants to know the story. "Certainly."
"There was, a long time ago, in a part of the galaxy that feels far, far away, a beautiful woman from Naboo. Padme Naberrie, who, when she gained her rank, chose as her nom de rex, Amidala. That was, if you'll allow the comparison, her shield. She kept Naberrie for herself, hidden away. She had been, in her youth, the Queen of Naboo, and she proved to be a wise one. Royalty in Naboo is an elected position, chosen from a collection of appropriately well-connected and wealthy houses. When her term as Queen was up, she joined the Senate of the Republic as one of the representatives from Naboo.
"Now, long, long ago, the Senate noticed that it was having issues. Many issues, and that, due to the nature of its charter, it could not deal with those issues for it had no military might.
"The senate hemmed and hawed and fussed and moaned, but eventually, it voted to raise a military. Senator Amidala was one of the voices against the creation of a military, she felt that concentrated military power would set bad things into motion. She knew that a sword in the hand of a protector can also be turned upon those who are being protected. And she wasn't wrong, but as is the nature of a democracy, she was outvoted."
He gestures to himself and his lady. "Some of us got our start back then.
"Senator Amidala was always a peacemaker, and as things got darker, and more dangerous, she was a light. She wanted less power, fewer weapons, and a galaxy of people who'd gather and talk through their differences.
"But galaxies rarely work that way, and in the end, those troops were needed to keep the peace."
Lady Kinear adds, "She died during the fall of the Jedi. There were… rumors among the Ladies of the Senate and their friends that she had been with child. And those of us who pay attention to such things know that Naboon fashion leans toward long, flowing gowns, but no gown ever made covers a near-term gravid woman thoroughly enough to hide the bump. Especially, not if that woman is pregnant with twins. And for those of us who were among the intimates of the Chancellor's mistress, there were scandalous rumors that the father had been one of the Jedi, and when the Jedi were purged, she and the children had been collateral damage. That her knight went to his death to protect her, and failed."
Both Kinears stare long and hard at both of them. Apparently it's, still, not quite clear enough.
Pat takes over on the story, "And there were a few rumors, barely hints of whispers, that her Jedi had not died in the purge, and that she had not been collateral damage. But that in his rage, when he found she could not be turned to his side, he had ended her life, and the life of their children."
He looks from the one to the other. It's clear that this isn't exactly news to either Amidala. It's also clear that they aren't seeing the bigger picture here.
"Of course, for those of us who'd heard the barely hints of a whisper, when a young Jedi named Skywalker showed up twenty years later…" He lets that dangle, and again looks between them.
Ellie adds, "And, of course, a few years after that, as the New Republic began to take shape, the world found out that Skywalker had a sister."
Kinear takes over, "And those of us who were paying attention learned that said sister lost her position as Queen of Alderaan, and the chance at First Senator, because someone else who knew Skywalker's father used it as a blade to her throat."
Both Kinears stare at Kylo and Rey, and are rapidly coming to the conclusion that those discreet and gentle lessons on how politics work better start in the next minute and a half, because neither of those two appear to be putting this together, yet.
Kinear leans in, and kisses Rey's cheek. "Now, if you be Lady Amidala, then he would be Lord Amidala." He pulls back, holding her hands, looking for all the world like a charming, old grandfather.
"And it is traditional among the Naboon, to take the name of whichever spouse has the highest rank. And while Jedi Master is impressive, former Queen outranks that by a light year," Ellie adds. "Now, back when it happened, there were barely fifty people in the know. Probably fewer. And now, more than fifty years later, I'd assume that number is fewer than ten. And likely, there are exactly five people on the Supremacy who know that name."
Her husband takes over, "That said, if either of you intends to use it, know what kind of statement you are making by doing so. Just because the numbers are few, doesn't mean they're zero, and the ones who can make the connections will make them and will not be silent about them."
Lady Kinear says, "So, Lady…"
Rey's eyes don't flicker, she holds Ellie's gaze as Kylo says, "Amidala."
Kinear grins, but it doesn't get to his eyes. Time to see how well these two can be taught. "Well…" He sighs, too. "Make sure you let Frakes know what you're doing. In about six months, at the most, it'll all be out. And decide, in advance, what, if anything you're going to do about Naboo and what's left of the Alderaanians. Once this gets out, they're going to get nervous about you attempting to stake a claim on either or both of them."
Ellie look up at both of them, feeling satisfied with this. If they'll be bold, then they'll be bold. She can see the pieces falling into play, and… "It's an interesting strategy. Make your claim by both sword and blood. There's nothing like the allure of 'royalty' to help cement a position. For some reason, people seem to like the idea that some people are touched by the Gods or Force and made to rule. Royal bloodline, Force powers, you probably are just about as close as anyone can get to making a legitimate claim of divine right of rule."
This would be the point where Kylo and Rey start to go pale, finally getting the hint of how badly this could spin out of control.
Kinear adds, also starting to see some of the angles on this play, warming up to them, and if they can do it… Maybe he and Ellie were a bit hasty on the idea of not backing this play. "That said, I don't suppose there's proof, anywhere that Amidala actually married her Jedi?"
That's not a direction either of them were thinking of taking this. Kylo saying Amidala was mostly just hammering home the point that Rey is his. And Rey was using it for the same reason. A marker of family and belonging that still left a 'formal' wedding in play.
Both of them are rapidly starting to see the issues as Kylo finally says, "I don't know about proof. He said they married on Naboo."
This would be when Ellie and Pat both look at each other, startled, because, as best they know the 'he' in question has been dead Kylo's entire life, and then some. They both, visibly, decide not to touch it. If Vader's still lurking around out there, they're significantly better off not knowing that. "A blood test would take care of any questions along those lines. Amidala had a sister, and she had children, so if you match your 'cousins' that would shut down any whispering about making a claim you can't back up."
Ellie sniggers a little, as she works through the lines of that. "The Queens of Naboo have to be female, under the age of twenty-five, of the correct lineage, and beyond financially well-off and politically connected, so, obviously, you, personally, aren't a threat to the status quo, not from that direction, but if there is ever a black-haired, dark-eyed baby girl with the name Ren, she'd be in the running for election as the Queen of Naboo."
"And, should said child be born, about two days after the news gets to Naboo, there will be people working on setting her up for said election," Kinear adds. Whether you want it or not, is left unspoken.
"And of course what's left of the Alderaanians have been squabbling since the planet was destroyed over who can 'legitimately' claim their throne. Since Ransolm took your mother out of the running, no one has been able to properly cement their hold, and if Prince Ben of Alderaan were to pop up again…" Ellie says.
Pat says, "They've finally found a new home world, and I imagine you wouldn't have too much difficulty getting an alliance with the houses currently out of favor in exchange for retaking your throne."
"You've even got long enough hair for the braids. Most of them, at least the ones not currently in power, would be happy to see you," Ellie says.
Rey and Kylo look at each other. Both of them are getting the unspoken context that using Amidala is going to complicate the hell out of this.
Rey sighs, holds her hand out again, and says, "Mistress Rey of the Maji."
Both Kinears beam approval at her. Ellie takes her hand and pats it gently. "And you thought you'd be bad at this." She waves the idea away like it's ridiculous. "It's just a matter of learning the angles and seeing how things can ricochet. We'll have you dancing through these waters in no time!"
"Have you been out there, yet?" Ellie asks a moment later.
Kylo nods. "They exiled me off to Jon's rooms to get ready."
She looks expectantly at Rey, who shakes her head. "Come, Mistress, this is the best part. A few minutes to just enjoy it with people you actually want to spend time with." She takes Rey's hand in hers and leads her into the throne room.
The last time she was in here, the throne was still in the middle, and everything was black, and…
Now, it's just… not.
The floor, the struts, the walls, those are, of course, still black. The sky beyond, well, the Supremacy is currently located to provide the bestpossible view of the Oleean Nebula, swirling around beyond them in pinks and oranges.
The throne is gone, and in it's place…
She feels Kylo's hand slip into hers, and there's a wash of… pride maybe, satisfaction, definitely, at being able to give this to her, as they walk over to the installation. "I don't know how Jon got them, but…"
It's a… sculpture maybe. Shimmering orbs filled with water, with jewel toned fish flitting about in them, and softly flowing trickles of water dripping into the orbs below them. Each one has flowers of striking vibrant oranges and reds and violets floating on the surface. The water drips slowly, each drop calibrated to provide a soft musical rhythm, and each orb is shaped to provide a different note.
She's reaching out for it, when Threepio's voice cuts through her, "Mistress Rey, no! There's a containment field around that." He's shuffling over as quickly as he can. "Those flowers are deeply toxic to a half dozen of the delegations coming to this, so we had to keep them contained." He turns toward one of the myriad droids moving around the space, getting the last-minute pieces into place. "Why isn't this roped off yet?"
The droid whirls and beeps and Rey's got the sense that the answer is "those idiots are ten minutes early, and the rope's not coming for another six minutes," but she's not sure about that.
Threepio listens to it, nods, and says, "It better well happen that way." And the droid beeps at him again. "Good." Once the droid scurries off, and Threepio is satisfied that the rope is coming, he takes the time to really look at Rey, and he can't smile, but, she has the sense of it. "You look lovely, my Lady."
"Threepio…"
"We are not on Lirium, and I would not dream of calling you Rey, here." He glances slightly behind her, where the Kinears are 'taking in the view.' He's pointedly not looking at Kylo, something a feat, given he's a half-step behind Rey with his hand on her back.
"Fine. General," she says with an amused voice.
That gets some very amused beeping, as R2 rolls up. Then he beeps some more, apparently he's willing to greet Kylo, even if Threepio won't. Kylo nods at him, and says, "Yes, thank you."
Your father would swallow his tongue if he saw you promoted Goldie over there to a general.
Kylo sniggers a little at that. "That's likely true."
You're not sending him into battle, are you?
"It's a diplomatic rank. If he ends up commanding a fleet it means that literally every other officer on board is dead, so…"
R2 beeps what Rey considers a snigger. Threepio makes a slightly annoyed sound, and then says, "Come R2, we've still got the final check of the catering team on the Finalizer."
Once they've left, the Kinears drift back over. Ellie nods to the door, where the Schiffs are entering. "Five minutes to go."
"What's first?" Rey asks.
"Receiving line. We stand here and say hello to everyone," Kylo replies. He can see the droids getting ready to open the doors. And behind them Schiff and his wife are also coming up, ready to join the line.
The expression she has aimed at him makes him smile. "We do this why?"
"So they can all say they got to speak with us," Kylo replies.
That expression doubles down. (And appears to be amusing the Grand Marshall and his wife to no end. Both of them know that the Kinears can't think at each other, but the this is going to be fun vibe coming off of Ellie is apparently strong enough that even Pat can get it.)
She breaks it long enough to be introduced to Grand Admiral Schiff and his wife, but picks it back up as they wait for the doors to open, and everyone else entering, to come to them.
And all of them speaking to us matters why?
Kylo half-smiles at her, looking at the doors, hearing the sounds on the other side, people coming close, waiting for those doors to open. He's feeling a tinge of nervous. He's not sure if it's his or hers though. He does reach out and take her hand. Because, apparently being human and approachable makes people comfortable and more likely to want to work with us.
Rey squeezes his hand, and it's clear that some of the nervous is him, but a lot of it is her. She takes a deep breath, and thinks to him, Okay.
Okay.
And then the doors open.
It's not as bad as she was afraid. Part of that is that though she feels like she's faking this, she's also aware that the people looking at her are mostly curious or envious. None of them are staring at her like she's got no right to be here.
She's surprised how many people who see her are annoyed to see her. She can feel Kylo is, too. Apparently, three out of every five people who are in this line have rapidly withering designs on planting someone of their own choosing into the position of Mistress Ren. Seeing her standing there is annoying to them. A hitch in many, many plans.
But, since she's being introduced as Mistress Rey of the Maji, they're not entirely certain if it's a done deal or not.
Both of them can feel a lot of plans being rearranged, quickly.
She sees more than a few women go from focusing their intentions on catching Kylo to worming their way into Rey's inner circle. If Kylo's already off the market, securing a place in his lady's favor gives them access to the Order, while maintaining an opening for a marriage link with another power.
Some of them are coolly eyeing Rey, sure they can supplant her.
It only takes three of them actively thinking about how to wedge themselves between Kylo and Rey before Kylo's moved a step closer to Rey and puts his arm around her shoulder. He's known for not shaking hands to begin with, so keeping his left hand on her, and nodding at people, with her gently making skin to skin contact with the people in the line seems to work just fine. While also making it extremely clear why she's in the line, and that these women have no shot of moving into her place.
When the Frakes enter, Lady Frakes and Spiner, escorted by Jon, he sees them, and smirks at it. Mirina says something, voice low, to Jon, who just chuckles, and then nods, and telegraphing he's going to do it a good half minute before he does, gently takes Rey's hands, kisses her cheek, giving him a chance to easily whisper to both of them, "Hold each other's hand. She's not in any danger, so you don't need to defend her or literally hold her to your body. It comes off like you're afraid someone's about to snatch her away."
Then Jon pulls back, and moves toward Kylo, making it extremely clear that he's supposed to shake his hand, so Kylo does, and doesn't wrap his arm around Rey again, then Jon moves on.
His mother is in line behind him. She greets Rey, and like her son, kisses her cheek and squeezes her hands, and then says, a with a touch more volume than is strictly necessary, "Now, I'll be seeing you about dress designing, soon, correct?"
Rey's not entirely sure what's happening here, but she can feel Mirina is doing this intentionally, so, "Yes, of course. After the commotion from the First Year parties have died down."
"Excellent, my dear. I want you thinking about color schemes and themes. State weddings are complicated, but a good dress helps to pull everything together."
"I will." Rey doesn't add a question to the end of that, though she halfway wants to, no idea what Mirina means by 'themes.'
Mirina looks up at her, eyes, bright. "I look forward to it." She gives Rey's hands one last squeeze, and then kisses Kylo's cheek, though she has to raise up on her tiptoes, and he has to bend down a little, for her to do it, and then she's holding Ellie's hands, both of them smiling and chatting like old friends.
And that one action kills a good three quarters of the plans of people attempting to find a way to squeeze a different woman into Kylo's embrace. If Madam Frakes has already been retained, the deal is done, and all that's left is the party.
It's an interesting experience. Five hundred people, as an abstract number, especially, if say, you personally (or your dearest love) happens to command more than six million of them, really doesn't feel like a lot.
But when you've got to stand in place and say hello to each of them…
It's three hours of just greeting people. And it's not like they really get to spend any time with any of them. That's just long enough for them to introduce themselves, say something like, 'Hello,' or 'Pleasure to meet you,' and then boom, onto the next one.
Rey's legs are tired, her back hurts, and she's got no idea how the Kinears, each of them well over ninety, are doing this.
Kylo's understanding why Jon was so upset that he blew a hole in his party plan, because yes, he never wants to do this again if he can at all possibly avoid it.
There's food. It smells good. They occasionally get glimpses of it as it travels through the room on trays carried by server droids. They don't get to eat it.
There are droids with drinks, circling around. The drinks look tasty. Tall fluted glasses of black-stemmed sparkling crystal, some with what's clearly wine, others with a light green or light pink concoction in them. Both of them are thirsty and would like a drink, but a drink would break the rhythm of greeting people.
Rey's hand hurts. She thinks Kylo's got the right idea with not shaking hands. Even just a gentle grasp over and over and over and over and over and over and… It feels oddly swollen and tender. (Though she's got more of an understanding as to why Tasha was so adamant about her hands being soft, and smooth, and perfect.)
They're about half way through when Kylo thinks at her. I will never, ever make us do this again.
Thank you.
On the upside, Han is absolutely right. Yes, while they're saying hello, people are watching them. And from time to time after that. But once they get out of the line, the guests get food, and drinks, and talk to each other, and look at the flowers and the fountain in the center, and actually seem to be having a good time.
Many of them are here to be seen. Not necessarily by Kylo or Rey, but by the people around them. This is a status show for a lot of them, they were invited, they are here, they are showing off how lux and well-connected they are. Their position in the eyes of Ren is only a small part of the game.
Right? Kylo thinks to her, catching her thought. After all, it's not like saying 'Hello' over and over takes much thought. Though, probably both of them could be doing a better job of remembering the names that go with each face.
He came by to give me a pep talk.
Did it help?
Some.
The elevator brings people in small numbers. Six to eight at a time. Finally, it opens again, this time with just Jon in it. He waves them in, and with a massive sigh of relief the six of them get in.
One floor up is supposed to be storage. Right now Jon's got cushy chairs, food, drinks, and what looks like those manicure boxes his mom had.
"Dinner's still forty-five minutes off. Crash, relax, take advantage of—" Ellie's already slipping off her shoes and putting her feet into one of the boxes as she collapses in the nearest chair with a groan, "the massage boxes," Jon says.
"When did we get so damn old?" she says to Pat, who smirks, and groans, loud, as he lowers himself into a chair taking a drink for both of them.
Schiff is rolling his shoulders. His neck pops loudly as he stretches. "The Emperor used to make us stand in formation for hours at a time, but I forgot how hard that is."
Lady Schiff has already gone in search of the refresher, and Rey's thinking that's a good plan. Though… sitting… She slumps into a chair.
Kylo's eyeing the food as he sits, takes his shoes off, and decides that if Ellie's doing it, it's probably smart, so he pulls his boots off and slips his feet into one of the boxes, too. A little shiver slips through him, as the box whirrs to life, that feels really good on his sore feet.
He nudges Rey, and she does, too, with a pleased groan. "Do we get to actually eat at the dinner?"
Jon grins. "Oh, yeah, but… It takes a long time to get everyone served, and sometimes the food'll be cool by the time you get it, so…"
Kylo looks up at him. "You look like you've been enjoying this."
Jon grins back at him. "Oh, I have." He's beaming, and Kylo does his best to pretend he doesn't know why. He hands Kylo a plate to share with Rey, and each of them a beverage. "Eat. Drink. You're expected to have a bite or two of everything that hits your plate at the dinner, and a sip of everything in your glass, but everyone sitting with you has hosted one of these things, so they understand snacks."
Kylo eyes the drink. It's pink and doesn't smell like much beyond sweet and fruity, but with Jon giving it to him… "What's in there?"
"In yours, twenty mls of vodka in a mix of cranberry, cucumber, and lime juice. Just juice for you, Rey. I wasn't sure how to calibrate just enough alcohol to keep you feeling comfortable, but not get you too much."
Ellie sniggers at that. "The downside of being tiny. It's hard to get 'just enough' to take the edge off. I found five mls an hour tended to do the job well enough. Or, if I was going to be somewhere I couldn't drink, methylgarfacine, say ten mgs would do the job."
"Wasn't that illegal under the Empire?" Schiff asks, shooting his drink straight down, unconcerned about how much alcohol might be in it.
"Of course." Kinear says, "The Emperor didn't like it because it side effects included making it hard to tell if someone was lying. If you took too much you'd be so relaxed your body wouldn't give off any lying tells. Just a little though, and suddenly dealing with hostile strangers isn't a big deal."
Rey's looking between her and Jon, not getting it. Kylo had told her that Jon wanted him drinking a little, but she'd been focusing too much on the dinner ahead to ask why.
"Alcohol helps with social anxiety," Jon says. "We spent some time figuring out how much to give him. You're so small… I mean, we can try, but…"
She looks at Kylo, who has been pretty smiley for something like this. "That's why you're in such a good mood?"
He shrugs. Given what they're doing, he's in an amazing mood. "Mostly it's that I'm doing this with you. That you're really here and it's… going better than I thought it would, and…" you're here and I love you and you're HERE and thank you! He caresses the back of her hand and sips his drink. "This just… like Ellie says, takes the edge off. Makes me feel a little less nervous, so I don't bleed it over to you."
The Schiffs and Kinears are deeply interested in that. Or will be when they think about it later. Right now, they're resting, because this is just the first leg of the race, and there's five more hours to go.
Food helps, drinks help, foot rubs help.
But eventually, it's time to get back up, go through the party, and lead everyone onto the Finalizer for dinner.
Jon's really good at this. Kylo's thinking. Partly because everything is pretty. In a way things associated with him just generally aren't. Partly because he can feel the people around him, and they are, for the most part, having a good time. And partly because having the Finalizer pull up, dock, and then crossing onto it, the entire top observation deck set for dinner, is just impressive.
He really is. Rey's impressed, too. This is just… supple and elegant and, yes, it feels odd to be in the middle of this, but it's good.
They're the last ones to be seated. Everyone else had headed in, and once again, they're behind closed doors, waiting to go in.
As they're about to enter the dining room, Rey remembers a conversation they had a long time ago. She says to him, quietly. "It's not a ballroom, right?"
That makes him remember the conversation, too.
"No." He offers her a smile through the Force. But it could be. Could be a wedding with dancing among the stars. How surprised to you think Poe would be if flirting with my honor guard actually results in getting kissed back?
She smirks at that. How surprised do you think Jon would be to be flirted with?
Oh, I've got some stories about that for later. But, I'd say, he'd be just about as surprised as you are to wake up in the morning with me next to you.
So, not at all.
Not at all. Apparently, if we can't see him, he's off tearing through the guests.
Wait… you mean? Her eyes go wide.
Exactly.
Here?
He tells me he built a bunch of blind corners into the set up so he could do it and still hear the party.
Rey smiles, brightly at him, trying not to laugh. A while back, I told Poe that he could bring a lover to Lirium. That it wouldn't be an issue. He told me he'd bring a boy over for dinner round about the time we hosted one.
She feels Kylo snigger at that. So, we're providing dinner and the boy?
Maybe.
The doors open, and they step in, faced with a huge collection of tables stretching from one end of the Finalizer's observation deck to the other. Upon seeing them, everyone stands, and waits, for Kylo, still holding Rey's hand, to lead her to their seats, pull the chair out for her (though he uses the Force to do it, and she mentally smirks at him for showing off) and then waits for her to sit before seating himself.
Once they're seated the volume rises, and the dinner begins.
Threepio is intentionally off to the side. He wanted a good view of this moment, and he wanted to share it with Artoo and the slew of memories only he could understand.
They clean up good, Artoo beeps softly.
Threepio nods. "They do." He's… not sure how to feel about this. About all of it. About how he feels like he's simultaneously watching Leia's dearest hope for the future, and her greatest fear. How he feels like he might be nurturing it, and stabbing her in the guts at the same time.
It's not Ben up there, holding his wife's hand, leading his people into a coalition to span the future and unite… everyone interested in unity. It should be Leia, and Luke and Han, and maybe, somewhere, off to the side with the rest of the New Jedi, Ben would be mingling about, helping to smooth the waters for his mother…
But this… This was never supposed to happen.
Ben wasn't supposed to have things like a wife, or a government, or formal dinners in his honor or…
Do you think they'd be proud? Artoo asks. Threepio can't not hear Artoo's memories of his time with Luke, and all of the things Ben was supposed to be.
"I don't know," Threepio says. "Do you?"
Humans are weird, so I don't know about them. I'm proud. Compared to the angry kid he was, this is so much better. Compared to the future Luke used to stay up late fearing, this is… beyond so much better. A billion times better. Compared to his grandfather… There aren't numbers big enough for that.
Threepio inclines his head. "That's probably a good way to look at it." Compared to Leia's nightmares… There aren't words for how much better this is. "I wish… I could have seen her see this." If Leia could have been here for this, could have approved, that would have gone a long way to making Threepio feel more settled. Less like he's just stabbed all of his people in the back for the sake of a shiny new rank and the ability to order people around in his own right.
R2's visor twists, his version of nodding. Me, too. And seen Luke see this.
Threepio hadn't seen Luke for five years before he vanished. He doesn't know what happened to him, other than what Artoo can tell him, so the details on how he became who he was are beyond sketchy. But the version of him he can remember likely would have approved of this. At least, again, compared to his fears, but maybe, not compared to his hopes. "I think he would have been pleased."
They spend a moment watching. Rey's sipping her soup from the wrong side of the spoon, but… Threepio's not about to swoop in and draw even more attention to that. Plus, she actually thanked the droid who served said soup, and Threepio wants people remembering that more that her spoon etiquette. Plus both Rens appear to be making functional conversation with the people near them, so… It looks like it's working… Well enough.
At his school, Luke would say that no one's ever really gone. And, I couldn't see them, but I could hear him talking to Yoda or Obi Wan from time to time.
"And you're thinking that they may be here?"
Leia at least. She'd come for this.
Threepio nods. "Yes, if she could, she would."
Kylo pulls the chair out for Rey, waits for her to sit, and then seats himself. Then everyone else sits.
Rey feels the brush of Ellie's mind. A bright, pay attention to me sort of though. She takes her napkin, gently slides it out from the ring encircling it, unrolls it, sets her chopsticks on the edge of her plate, and then places it on her lap. Rey sees her do it, and then follows her lead.
Ellie smiles gently, and goes back to talking to the man on her left, J'Freyes Kalmantan, who… she's remembering… is the Viceroy of the S'Mthalnan system, which… Ship building. He's a shipbuilding magnate, and they want him happy and pleased with the Order so they can hopefully use his docks, and recruit like crazy around them, eventually setting up their own deep space ship building operations. If he's not interested in defecting with a collection of his people, he may be willing to be hired as a technical director or the like.
To Rey's left, a gleaming black droid, vaguely humanoid looking, has a covered try in his arms. Another droid, same basic shape, but it's steel gray, lifts the cover, and gently lifts, and lowers, by some sort of containment field, a fist sized orb of light green.
As soon as the orb kisses the base of Rey's bowl, the field retreats, gently settling the soup into her bowl. "Cucumber mint refresher, Mistress," the black droid says.
Rey smiles at it. Kylo's showing off with his Force, apparently someone in the kitchen staff is also showing off with their tools. She looks to both droids, nods, to them and says, "Thank you."
She feels the man to her right, T'Qarnan, Chief Delegate of the Rlyriam system, the second largest system represented here tonight (Amelda Long, of the largest system, is at Kylo's left.) startle slightly at that.
"You thank droids, my lady?"
"I thank anyone who does me a good turn. It makes it easier to remember that good things are not to be taken for granted." She looks at her soup, but doesn't take a bite of it, yet, because not everyone at their table has been served yet. "I have the feeling this is going to be a good thing."
T'Qarnan, at Rey's right will be the last one served, nods at her. "It certainly smells so."
As the droids move around the table, Rey remembers Kylo's comment about find the highest ranked person in the room, and follow their lead. And yes, that person, technically, may be Kylo, or her, but… She decides that mimicking Lady Kinear means she won't go wrong, so she watches, and does her best to really see what Ellie's doing.
She waits for everyone to get their food, and then gently dips her spoon into it, lifting just a little bit to her lips, not putting the spoon in her mouth, and then gently, silently sipping it.
So, Rey does, too.
And maybe she doesn't have it perfect, but… No one is staring at her like a barbarian barging into the meal and cutting the table into pieces with an ax, so… It's probably okay.
You're doing fine. Kylo's voice in her head.
She almost nods, but doesn't. No one else at the table knows he did that. Instead she gives his thigh a little squeeze.
Conversation.
It's a seated dinner, so Rey's mostly only having to deal with the nine other people at their table. And one of them is Kylo, so that means eight people.
Talk to eight people. No big deal.
Though, apparently they think she's a big deal. She's seated on Kylo's right, which is part of the big deal thing. Most of the people around her noticed the mark on her dress when they went through the receiving line, and that, along with the fact that Mirina Frakes is seated three tables away, is cementing the idea that she's a big deal. Her title… None of them know what that means, but… It's got to be something right? As soon as this meal ends at least a third of the people here will get to their datapads and start looking up anything they can find on the Maji.
"And where are you from, Mistress Rey? Your accent is… Unique." T'Qarnan's wife asks.
"The Rim. At least, I grew up there. Before that, I don't know."
"Ah…" Lady T'Qarnan's not sure what to say about that. The closest she's ever been to the Rim is reading about it. "And would you not knowing indicate that you are… lacking in family?" she decides to ask.
"It would. My parents died when I was young, too young to ask things like where we were from originally. I've been told that at least some of my accent appears to be from the core, so… Maybe they were from somewhere in there, but… I just don't know."
"I'm sorry to hear that." T'Qarnan says.
"Thank you. How about you? Have you always lived on Rylriam Prime?"
Actually, that works really well. She gets him talking about Rylriam, and how he became the Chief Delegate, how the two of them met, and what a Chief Delegate and his/her spouse does. That's a good half hour where all she has to do is nod and ask the occasional question. (And also decide that a system where political leaders are picked by blood sport combat may not make the greatest diplomats, but would likely be good military allies. Apparently, back in the day, T'Qarnan was quite handy with a saber, an actual, metal, saber. Which is what drew the attention of the lady to his right, and gets them talking, with a bit of actual interest from Rey, about the difference between a light saber and a metal one.)
Kylo's foot rubs hers in encouragement as she does it.
Amelda Long is on Kylo's left. He's surprised she agreed to come to this, but… As the Queen Regent of the Council of Monarchs of the largest system in the galaxy, she's certainly worthy of her place at his left, and his attention.
He can feel her looking at him like he's a puzzle to put together, or maybe take apart. And he's not entirely sure if what he's about to do next is a good plan, but…
He knows more about her than she knows about him. Namely, he knows that under the Empire, The United Federation of Blytheen Systems was a vassal state, ruled by a military governor, and that her position, though back then it was held by her grandfather, was a figure-head kept in place to maintain a façade of local control and make things easier for the Empire.
He knows, that with the fall of the Empire, her father was able to regain the actual power of his position.
And he knows that back in the day, Princess Leia Organa, who wasn't even a Senator, yet, had gone to Long's father, and asked him to send representatives to a New Republic. A Republic designed for mutual protection and support and ease of economic transactions, but one with a significantly less centrist thrust than the Old Republic had had. (Though, of course, by fifteen years in, the old centrist/populist fights had started up again.)
And he knows that Amelda Long, who was about twenty-five at the time, joined the New Republic as a Senator from Blythee Prime, and that she was, if not friendly, then at least aware of what Leia Organa, and her Rebellion, had done for her.
What he's not entirely sure of is if he wants to have the entire rest of the galaxy know who he used to be. Or where he comes from. Of if he wants to deal with the fallout from that.
He ponders that as he eats a bite of… He's not sure. The serving droids have told them what everything is, but the name of this current plate, which is a collection of tasty, and brightly-colored oblong shapes, some sort of fruit thing, he thinks, didn't make it through the attention he was paying to Rey and T'Qarnan talking saber techniques.
It'll come out sooner or later. That he's Leia Organa's son… That's a foregone conclusion. If Kinear knows, then others will too, sooner or later. So he can bring it out on his own, or wait for someone to try and use it as a knife against his throat. The way they used Vader against his mother.
He's fairly sure the link to Amidala is something he can keep hidden, assuming they don't just flaunt it. Given how few people ever heard that rumor, short of comparing his DNA to those cousins Kinear mentioned, that story will stay dead unless they decide to revive it. That Vader produced a son and daughter is fairly well-known. Vader's woman is a secret that died with Obi Wan. (Until his grandson and granddaughter-in-law dug it up.)
He feels Rey gently stroke his leg. It's better to control the blade than dodge it.
I've always thought so.
He turns to Long, who is elegantly lifting a bright pink oblong to her lips with her chopsticks. "I was greatly pleased to see you chose to come to this."
She takes that as her due. "Everyone is talking about you. So, I decided to see what the conversation is about."
"And do you find me worth the conversation?"
"We'll certainly have to see." She's looking him over, and it's clear she's been to a lot of these over the years, and as of this point, she's not impressed. He also catches the fact that she's really here because of what he did about the Qualee. Apparently, she's part of the group who decided to test him with that.
Something must have slipped on his face, because he catches a quick flash of her remembering The Banker calling him a mind reader, a quick glance to a far table, where… The Banker isn't here, but he sees a woman he thinks is one of the sisters. She notices him follow her gaze, and then her thoughts about that meeting stop.
He smiles a little, and it's not even that fake. "I remember hearing about you when I was younger." He can feel that intrigues her, a bit. She's thinking he may have been one of her subjects back in the day. He's the right species, and his coloring isn't rare on her home world.
"Good things?"
"Often. You were an ally of my mother's. Or perhaps she was one of yours."
"I've had many allies over the years."
He, less elegantly, lifts a bright purple oblong to his lips. He's better with chopsticks than when he started, but these little things are slippery, and the chopsticks are both round and some sort of basically frictionless black ceramic with white tips. "I'd imagine. And I imagine you remember Leia Organa."
Long looks mildly surprised, but he can feel the wave of genuine shock behind the gesture. She blinks once. "Ben? I…" She smiles again, genuinely, and then laughs, covering her lips with her fingers. "Oh my… We've met before. You were… little. Walking but not talking, yet, and there was some sort of problem with your nanny droid. Your father was away, so Leia brought you to one of our sessions. Tax policy with a toddler. You slept through most of it, and I think the rest of us would have happily changed places with you."
This time his smile isn't fake in the slightest. "I often find myself wishing for a nap during tax policy meetings. Apparently, some things don't change much over thirty years."
She's eying him carefully, trying to see Leia or Han in him. "And some do. A new name?"
He half-inclines his head, gently strokes the back of Rey's hand, and she flashes him a little grin before going back to talking with the people on her right. "Many new things, a name among them."
Long glances around the table, and then the room, this time really looking, and he knows who she's seeking. "I notice that neither of your parents are here. Though if memory serves your father was never much for this sort of thing."
"No. He wasn't. Though, he might have been willing to make an exception for something like this." He has the sense that for a night, for his son's night, Han'd put up with the stuffed shirts, and possibly have even behaved himself. Maybe. "So, perhaps their spirits are here, but their bodies are no longer capable of making an appearance."
"Oh. My condolences."
"Thank you." She's being so polite, but he can feel her mind whirling through trying to figure out how Ben Solo ended up on the First Order side of the war.
He not only wants to distract from that, he also wants to focus in on the reason why she's here. "My understanding is that you were willing to support the New Republic as long as it remained firmly in the anti-centrist camp." Left unspoken is that as soon as they started trying to consolidate into a centrist organization Long and her representatives all left.
"Yes. One-size-fits-all governments fit no one."
"I agree. I find the idea of attempting to force people to join and serve you to be unsavory."
"That's… reassuring." He gets a quick mental flash of a meeting, and knows that she'll be reporting back to several people about this, soon.
"I'd hope so."
She's quiet for a moment as she lifts a neon green oblong to her lips, looking at Kylo, thinking. Once she's swallowed she says, "How do you feel about… release valves?"
This time, he knows the surface topic, and the under topic, and is having no problem following along. "Vitally important for the health and survival of any functional system. Too much pressure builds up, and things explode. And no one's better off in that situation."
She nods slowly, and he can feel her thinking that his recruiting stations might make an awfully useful release valve for her own system. A way for people who are dissatisfied, trouble makers, or just looking for something different to get it. A way to do it with minimal cost to herself. She's more than secure in the sense that he'll never resettle enough Citizens of the Order into her society, at least not in her lifetime, to cause trouble, so she might as well use him as a way to give her dissatisfied citizens a way out.
And Kylo's more than content to take them.
It's a show all right. Jon appears to have chosen the Finalizer for this because its observation deck allows for 330 degrees of uninterrupted view.
Kylo doesn't even want to contemplate how annoyed Mitaka has to be at having his observation deck stolen for a formal dinner, but… Actually… Right… He's over there, five tables to the left, with… what appears to be a date, or maybe he's married, talking to… Grand Admiral Schiff, apparently having a good time.
Or, Jon… or Threepio… is good enough at this to have figured out that if you're going to ruffle some feathers, offering the ruffled a chance to show off how good he is at his job to a few of the higher ups is a decent way to smooth those feathers back down.
From here, they can see the Supremacy looming, taking up most of the space around them as hundreds of smaller ships zip through their training paces.
The people around him are watching. Watching the show. Watching each other. And many of them are thinking. Like Long, some of them are considering the value of release valves. Some of them are thinking of business deals and political assignations they'd rather not host on their own soil. Some of them are counting ships and guns, wondering how much more fight Kylo can bring to a fight.
Kylo's glancing around, looking for Jon, but he doesn't see him. He's not at his place, which means he's dealing with something with the party, or he's off enjoying one of those blind corners, and Kylo decides that whatever he may be doing, now isn't the time to interrupt with a mental congratulations on very good work.
Rey catches his thoughts as he's scanning the room. She glances around, also noting the lack of Jon. Hoping to do some of that, too?
He knows she's teasing him. He knows it's intentional. He would love nothing better than to excuse himself, find a corner, and drag her into it, but… He's got the sinking suspicion that Jon's actually right about how he's the only person in this damn room who can't vanish for longer than it takes to get to the restroom, pee, and come back.
I really wish. I've been told in very definite terms that I can't leave with you and find our own corner to hide in.
Why pick a corner? Not like it'd take any time to get back to our room.
I've been told the chance of getting walked in on is part of the fun.
And Jon would know.
Apparently, Jon would know. He can see her looking around, but Jon's still not within either of their lines of sight.
Rey thinks about that, her hand gently stroking over his thigh. His hand closes on hers, not exactly making her stop, but making her aware of how it feels to him. The pleasure of her touch, how distracting it is, how much he really wishes he could drag them off to a blind corner, balanced with the awareness that he probably does need to be paying attention to the people around him.
Maybe if we ever do this with a few hundred fewer people, she thinks at him.
He licks his lips, rolling them together, doing his best not to smile. He does blast her with an image of them in their own corner, him kissing her shoulder, his hands under her bottom, her leg over his hip, her hands in his hair, as he grinds against her.
Tease.
You love it.
She smiles at the man next to her, still blathering on, but Kylo knows that smile's for him. You know I do.
They're on course number… Rey doesn't actually know. The Droids come by, she takes a few bites, listens, talks some, they come by again, taking whatever it is away, refilling drinks, and then are back a few moments later with even more food.
All of it has been tasty, but… It's just a lot.
This one is some sort of little dumpling. The sauce with them is especially good, and she's trying to not wolf them down, because Ellie's more or less screaming in her head about eating slowly, gently, each bite one at a time, with chewing and talking in between… But if she does that, this plate is going to go away before she finishes it.
So, of course, as she's trying to get as much of this into her mouth instead of on her plate, she gets asked a question she's actually got to answer, one that she can't fob off in a few words, or reflect to the rest of the guests.
By Ellie.
Rey looks up at her, thinks Traitor and then sighs.
Ellie sniggers, at least, in her head, thinks at her: Just ask for it again tomorrow. The kitchens will make you whatever you like, Lady Amidala.
Everyone else at the table is looking at her, likely because they've all got the same question in mind. What does the Mistress of the Maji do?
Rey puts her chopsticks down. No eating while she talks. "A lot of things, and most of them aren't terribly glamorous."
Kylo pets her hip under the table, blasting her with a warm, happy feeling.
"I guess, first and foremost, I study. I read a lot, and ask questions, and listen to answers, and think about them."
"And what are you studying, Lady Rey?" Amelda Long asks, and Rey can tell she's got an idea what the answer is.
"The Force, faith, churches, philosophy, how to build a farm, how to fix insulating fields, how to make cookies… A lot of things."
"That's a diverse collection of interests," Kinear says.
"It is, but… You can't live just in ancient books and obscure thought processes. The weather gets cold, and you need to stay warm, which means you need those insulating fields to work. And once they do, you can curl up with a book written by a monk a thousand years ago, talking about the nature kindness."
Kylo smiles at her. "Maybe with a cookie and a cup of milk."
She flashes him a little smile, too. "Maybe."
"You mentioned the Force, is the Maji a sort of Jedi?" Lady T'Qarnan asks.
"Only in the sense that the Jedi also worshiped the Force. It's a Church of the Force that explicitly rejects Light/Dark dualism, which, of course, was the driving theological thrust of the Jedi."
"You're not trying to resurrect the Jedi?" Ellie asks.
"No. As of this point, Luke Skywalker was the last Jedi. I suppose one of my students may decide to follow that path, but I don't intend to."
"You have students?" Curran Long, Amelda's consort, asks.
"Yes. Mistress is a literal title. There aren't a lot of us, but over time we'll grow." She taps the spiral at her throat. "I hope you'll see more of them, spreading across the galaxy."
"Why a spiral?" T'Qarnan asks.
"The Jedi held that the light was good and holy. The dark evil and corrupting. The Maji believes that everyone is, in all times and all ways, both. We seek to balance those energies and turn them toward, well, hopefully something good. The light and the dark spin into each other, forming gray."
"The dark isn't just another term for evil?" Ellie asks.
"Only if you ask a Jedi, and one who's giving you a very short form of the answer. The dark is attached. It's passionate love, or the kind of anger you can only feel by being very deeply invested in something. It's strong, deep emotions, and the sort of vivid actions that go with them. It's wanting and needing. The Jedi, rightly, noticed that those sorts of feelings can easily lead people to do 'bad' things. If you've ever done something stupid or hurtful because you were scared, you know what I'm talking about."
Everyone at the table nods, they've all been there.
"The Jedi felt that the best way to not do hurtful, stupid things was to never get attached to anything other than being a good Jedi. They worshiped the Light, which is calmness, serenity, knowledge. All of which is lovely, but without any motivating passion, it's… well, sort of useless." Rey takes a sip of her drink. "If you've got nothing to aim your light at, no attachments, no… better world, or loves, or… meaning… All you're doing is making your mind a pristine chapel, but… your outside world isn't any better off. And really, if you're letting everything and one around you rot while you tend to your own mind, you're not making yourself any better, either."
"And if you're constantly telling people that their entirely normal, deeply human, wired since the dawn of evolution wants and needs are somehow bad or perverted, and that the nature of the universe disapproves of them, and you for having them, you're not doing those people any favors, either," Kylo says, voice dark.
Both Rey and Kylo feel Kinear think very hard TOO PERSONAL.
Rey gives Kylo's hand a little squeeze under the table. "Anyway. I'm not a Jedi. I'm not training Jedi. I've got no interest in it. I am trying to find a way to live in this universe, balance our wants and needs with a responsibility to make things some sort of concrete better, while not pushing people into molds they're not fit for."
Ellie smiles at that. "Sounds a lot like trying to be a good parent."
"It certainly might. My students are mostly orphans, and I am, too… So, we're all a little thin on the ground when it comes to examples of good parenting, but we're trying to figure it out. How many children do you have, Lady Kinear?"
And that gets the conversation to children, and trying to raise them, which, with the exception of Kylo and Rey, everyone at the table has hands on experience with and opinions about.
Dessert is that pale, jiggle-y custard that they'd had before. Last time it was almond flavored and rose water scented. The almond flavoring is still there, but it's got a deep, dark coffee syrup drizzled over it. Kylo still thinks the texture is a bit off, at least as something to eat, (he's been carefully using his spoon to skim the coffee syrup off of it, and just eat that) but he's pleased to see that Rey loves it and is snarfing it on down in record time, appalled looks by Lady Kinear be damned.
His own is more or less just sitting on its plate, wiggling a little when he scrapes more of the syrup off of it.
"No taste for pana cotta?" Long asks, seeing him occasionally poke his dessert.
He puts his spoon down. "I'm more of a chocolate fan."
"There is something to be said for good chocolate. Dark?"
"Darker the better."
She's eyeing his outfit, the black ship they're hovering around, and Kylo's reputation as she nods, slowly. "Still, occasionally something light and sweet is good."
Kylo smiles at her, nods, and gently lays his hand on Rey's shoulder. "I agree."
Rey glances over at him, sees his dessert just sitting there, and her own plate very empty, and raises and eyebrow. He nods, and she swaps their plates, and okay, maybe that's not the best manners ever, but no pana cotta was wasted, and a few of the other people at the table thought it was cute.
There are certain things Kylo's really wanted to do since he first laid eyes on Rey, all dressed up, hours ago. Peel that dress off of her. Or maybe leave it on. Find out what's under it. (Which seems to hint that peeling it off would win.) Kiss every inch of her body. (Again, seems like that dress isn't going to stay on, but he does have a few really vivid images of her on him, wearing it.) Slowly pulling his hands through her hair, feeling it curling and wild under his fingers once it's released from the pins. Her in just the necklace, riding him. (He wants to know if it'll bounce when she does. The Maji token does, and he's been known to appreciate that on occasion.) Her on her knees in front of him. (That's one of the really vivid images with the dress. It's just possible that Jon knew what he was talking about with the whole formal wear thing, and one of these days Kylo's going to find out.)
But, by the time they're getting back to the Supremacy, when there's still two fucking hour of this thing left, he's just tired. How sitting on his ass, talking and eating can possibly take this much energy he doesn't know, but…
He can sense she's tired, too. By their standards it's about two hours past normal bedtime, which is likely also part of being tired, but he's had enough coffee that he's not so much sleepy as just… tired.
The Finalizer docks on the main flight deck of the Supremacy and this is Jon's crowning moment of the show. There's room on the flight deck for a Super Star Destroyer, so any other space navy will have no problems finding a berth here.
It's also a very elegant statement that, should the Supremacy show up next to your fleet, you've got no idea what might come out of it.
Fortunately, they don't have to say goodnight to everyone. Three more fucking hours of saying goodnight to everyone would drive him fully around the bend, and Rey would likely just teleport back to Lirium and never talk to him again.
She gives him a little mental kick at that thought. I'd teleport both of us back to Lirium, and maybe we'd have a serious talk about you becoming a full time Maji.
He's glancing around, at the press of people milling around through their main flight deck, many of them getting on trams to take them to their rooms. Tempting.
One of the guests comes over to him, he doesn't remember his name, but the… again, Kylo's not sure what this person is, so he's just going to call him a person and leave it at that. His common tongue is very good, though, which, given the shape of his mouth (Kylo thinks it's a mouth) and the number of teeth (he hopes those things are teeth) that's quite a feat. "This has been a lovely party, Master Ren."
"Thank you. I'm glad to see you were willing to attend." Do you have any idea who this is?
Nope.
Threepio sweeps over, "Master Ren, this is His Royal Highness, First of his Name, Holy Sequetra of the Q'Rlings…" Good lord, no wonder I didn't remember this. Rey does not snigger at that. "Gul'Horan of the" the series of whispers and clicks that follow strike Kylo as the kind of sounds he expects to come out of a mouth that narrow with that many teeth. "He had spoken with us about arranging for a bit of our floor space to hold a treaty signing."
Kylo smiles. "Excellent."
"I was wondering Master Ren, if, in addition to providing neutral territory, and a safe place to store goods in escrow to go with said treaties, if you've given any thought to enforcing contracts made in your venue?"
Kylo blinks. "I'll admit, I haven't, but I certainly could start thinking in that direction."
Gul'Horan nods. "Continue thinking, and have your people contact mine when you come to a conclusion. Many players in this galaxy would benefit from ironclad contracts that can be assessed and enforced by a neutral party."
Kylo nods at that, too. "Yes, I imagine that's true."
Rey squeezes his hand. She can feel the way he's feeling that, too. A sense of stepping into a void he was made to fill. And that this one minute here was worth all of the annoyance of the last few hours.
"Thank you…" Shit, he's got no idea what the fuck he's supposed to call this person to his face, so his thank you sort of trails off lamely. "You've given me something valuable to think about, and I appreciate it."
"Your thanks is most welcome." Gul'Horlan looks off to the side. "My mate is calling. I believe it is time to retire for the evening."
"I wish you a pleasant rest."
Gul'Horlan can't exactly nod, he doesn't appear to have a neck. He does bow slightly, and Kylo bows back, hoping that's good.
Threepio doesn't groan. He doesn't say anything. He leaves as soon as Gul'Horlan does.
Kylo looks to Rey. Do you think that's things thawing between us?
It could be.
He feels the trepidation in her thought. By which you mean, no.
By which I mean, I think he did that out of duty to your mom.
Well, it got me a good idea, so I'll take it.
There's another hour and a half of that. Longer, informal, and mostly just feeling each other out, but possibly starting hints of good things conversations.
But, eventually, the guests have all been taken off to their rooms, and Kylo and Rey are standing with each other, Jon, the Kinears, and the Schiffs.
"Not bad, not bad at all," Schiff says.
Kinear offers them a tired grin. "It's been a grand night, and I'm knackered," he shoots off a fast, and sardonic salute. "The speech is fifteen hours from now, and I suggest all of us spend at least ten of the hours between now and then asleep."
Rey yawns, and Jon does, too.
He grins, a little sheepishly. "That sounds like an excellent idea. Tomorrow…" he glances to the chronometer, "Later today really," and then heads off toward the trams. The Kinears and Schiffs follow.
Rey looks to Kylo. You want to follow?
Fuck no! He takes her hand, and a second later, they're in their bed at Lirium. Laying down feels sooo good! "I'm moving exactly eight more steps today."
She smirks a bit at that. "Eight."
"Four to the bathroom, and four back to our bed."
That gets a tired laugh out of her.
Her eyes close and the feel of the bed under her is lulling. Without opening them, she says, "How bad do you think it is to sleep in this?"
He shrugs, slowly pushing himself up, and giving her a hand up, too. "If I were less tired, I'd be extremely interested in helping you out of it, but, now, I just want to pee and sleep."
She laughs at that, too. "I thought this sort of thing was supposed to be glamourous." Four steps, done. Brush teeth, pee, maybe, if she's feeling really frisky, wipe the makeup off and pull the pins out of her hair, left to go. "Feeling energetic enough to help me get my hair out of this?" she asks as she puts toothpowder on her brush.
He nods, slowly, leaning against the wall in their bathroom, taking care of business. "Yeah, probably." A moment later he's washing his hands, and then getting his toothbrush ready.
Together, they get the pins out, and she does wipe the makeup off her face. Kylo kicks off his shoes, and undresses. He's even able to give her a hand with the dress, though both of them look at the bra and just give up.
"When we wake up," he says with a very tired smile.
She nods, yawning. "In the morning."
In a matter of hours the birth name and family of Kylo Ren is out. An hour after that, the rumor begins. General Organa knew she couldn't take the First Order militarily. So she sent her son into it, and he turned it inside out. After all, the people who are paying attention, really paying attention, have noticed a few similarities between what Master Ren is proposing to do, and what Senator Organa tried to do.
It'll be a few days before that one gets to him, and Kylo decides not to touch it. He won't confirm or deny it, feeling that in some circles that's better than the truth, and in others, it's not. When asked about it, days later, he'll say, "From a certain point of view, all stories are true."
A day later someone will call him Master Solo. Kylo freezes him. Not in the sense of making it so he can't move, but he floods his body with a sick, bone-chilling cold, and quietly says, "Master Solo was my father. Kylo Ren. Master Ren. Lord Ren. My Lord, Sir, Master, I answer to all of those, but not Solo."
"Yes, Master Ren."
And Kylo will nod.
There are whispers of a new player coming into his own. Power is, of course, ephemeral and eternal, but it is also local and geographic, and if the Master intends to rise the Court of Ren, as a moving place to make deals, to settle scores, and seek accord, or, at least, quell hostilities, then the name of the game is going to shift, soon.
The man who claims the mantle of Order, and then sets a place for others to come to terms, by offering a place, and rules to abide by, is a man who can shake the current system.
The man who can bring systems into his orbit, by force or by faith or by fealty, is the man who can claim the title of Emperor.
But if he can do it by faith or fealty… And those are the plays Master Ren appears to be attempting to make…
If it works…
If it works, that's a man who can change the galaxy.
There are many whispers about that. No one knows if he can do it, but they're certainly eager to speculate.
But those stories will pale in comparison to the biggest story of the Order's First Year Celebration.
The Master has a Lady.
Since the rise of Kylo Ren, there have been rumors about him. But by the time the galaxy first meets Mistress Rey of the Maji, the mysteries of Kylo Ren were almost ten years old, and long hashed over, and given what was leaking out across the galaxy, suddenly becoming somewhat less mysterious.
Before the dinner is over, the rumors of Mistress Rey, (Mistress Ren? Given the easy way they had with each other, more than a few voices are speculating that the Master and his Lady are already married.) have begun. Her name is... They don't know. It's so common it could be from anywhere. Her accent, mostly Core, with a flavor of the unknown regions. She has somewhat Alderaanian table manners. (Though that's difficult to tell using chopsticks.) There's a rumor going around that her parents died when she was young, and that she'd ended up on the Rim, in hiding. With the Ben Solo rumor galloping through the galaxy, the idea that perhaps his bride (wife?) is the last member of one of the lost houses of Alderaan doesn't seem impossible, though she does look a bit young for it.
The mark she wore upon her neck belongs to something called a Maji, and that's also getting a huge amount of gossip, because no one can find out what it is, and what she had to say about it was generally uninformative. It's a religious organization. It's dedicated to seeking balance in the universe through the Force. It appears to be a Church of the Force, but not the Church of the Force. They know the Master is a… Jedi… Sith… Whatever Snoke was… Maybe? Actually, they don't know what Master Ren is. As the name Ben Solo begins to flame through the galaxy, there are whispers starting that The Master is a Jedi. So… perhaps the Maji are a sort of Jedi, too? Perhaps Mistress Rey is a Jedi? They've seen the Master use the Force, but as of yet, they don't know about Mistress Rey… But they're happy to speculate.
And above and beyond all of that, is the word spreading like wildfire that the Master of the Order appears to be utterly, head over heels, in love with her, and she with him, and if the undercurrent of stories about Mirina Frakes attending are true, the galaxy is on it's way to seeing the grandest wedding in likely a century.
After all, it's been too damn long since the galaxy saw something bright with spectacle, and had a true, honest to Force, romance to play with.
And people, the right people, are eager.