Chapter Text
Krys Ren Hux breathed in the cool evening air. Her view over the active racing course below was never a dull sight. However, it was no longer a Fathier racing course — such animal sport had become illegal once the new regime had taken over. No, she watched as podracers whizzed through the course, a classic blue pod always so easy to spot.
The contestants rounded a corner; Krys watched as the blue pod repeatedly smashed, flamed, and otherwise crashed into the other racers. That and no other reason made it so easy to spot.
Krys swirled her glass. Vesper had 10 more pods lined up just like it ready for a switch out. Cora sputtered to the pit stop for just that. It was the fourth swap this race. Krys took a sip.
Her eyeline changed upwards. The clouds were all turning pink, showing over the betting crowd, and she waited, patiently.
It was strange, this new feeling called “calm.” She hadn’t gotten used to it. How was it she didn’t mind waiting anymore? The fire which had boiled her blood and enraged her soul, it was now more likened to a candle. While always capable of burning down the enemy’s house — it sat quietly, content at its wick. She was halfway through her drink, a light breeze flowing through her hair and evening gown - and the candle grew warmer.
He was approaching. She didn’t need to look with her eyes or seek with her soul to know. His nearness would naturally rise to the forefront of her heart, and - ah - how odd it was to know joy.
She wore the backless dress today. Though it showed her scars from the Emperor’s Machine, ditches that never quite smoothed over, she never needed to feel shy about them. Not around Hux. As always, his fingertips would enclose around her arms, and his lips would meet the nape of her neck—
“Armie,” Krys greeted him. The scent of his seasaur cologne filled her senses, her favorite of his collection.
“Hello, love,” Armitage returned to her, cradling his head betwixt her head and shoulder. “How was your day today?”
“I’ve been waiting to tell you,” Krys said, spinning around to face him. His new threads were pressed to perfection, as was habit. Though he had helpers available to do it for him, Hux always preferred to iron his dressings personally. Krys soon found this was part of his routine, part of what made him calm - no matter how chaotic the outside might be. His uniforms were all suits and tuxes here. Nothing but the highest quality to match Mr. Ro.
“Please tell me,” Hux replied, kissing her cheek and drawing her near by the hips.
“I dreamt something new,” Krys spake into his ear.
“You didn’t. Really?”
“Yes.”
Their years at Canto Bight had been a huge adjustment, but a welcome one.
Years back, when Cora and Vesper had brought up their “next big score,” the duo abruptly left to chase it — Hux thinking, Finally, Maker, some peace and quiet. But Krys had opted to stay behind, with her new husband.
Hux and Krys’ quiet days at the private island had been wonderful and full of intimacy. But it wasn’t long before the both of them craved purpose again.
What were they going to do now?
So far, Canto Bight answered the question. Though war profiteers sank by the thousands with the end of large-scale bloodshed, the casino’s owner would always have a place for Armitage Hux.
“Looks like a new chapter for our business!” explained Mr. Ro cheerfully, ever the optimist. “We need a new clientele, a fresh start. Won’t you partner with me as we navigate our future, Hux ole boy?”
“Let’s get to work,” Armie had replied.
“YEAH!” Cora popped in there.
“Wait,” Mr. Ro blinked. “Y… YOU!?”
“ME!” the shark creature shouted.
Hux had coughed out: “They were, uh, my ride here.”
This interaction nearly went very south extremely fast — but by it, a new idea arose. When the Head of Security was called to take care of the shark, the first thing Annie did upon arriving at the scene was say:
“Oh. Is that a podracer? Sweet.”
And that gave Ro an idea.
From atop the loft today, Hux spoke:
“What did you dream about, my love?”
He asked her this in the golden hour. Without meaning to, they had begun to sway together. Krys laid her head in the crux of his shoulder, and he outstretched her hand as though they were in the downstairs ballroom.
The time passing at Canto Bight for Krys was unlike any other she had ever experienced. While, yes, she maintained her fighting fit, long gone were the hard days of running drills, slicing through targets with her sabers and the Force. Such exercise was only for health and sport anymore. Currently, her focus lied on prescience.
It first stemmed from paranoia, for keeping watch. To defend her new life, so that no one would be hunting, searching, to take it all away from them. She would massacre anybody who had the thought to come after Hux, or her. The idea made her mouth bloody from grinding jaws, deep in focus.
But when nothing showed itself, when no danger came to fruition, slowly, slowly, slowly, over the years, the practice became less about defense. Though forever there would be the Darkness within ready to strike again, meditation turned to… the future.
Where was she to go from here? Where were she and Hux to go from here?
They had risen to the top. They had commanded armies together. They had conquered and killed together. She’d garnered the power of Palpatine, so too had Hux held one of the highest seats in the Empire.
Where could anyone go from there?
Krys smiled.
-
Ben took Rey’s hand, also smiling.
From far, far away on a bench, they watched their son and daughter play with Gramma Leia at a lake. Gramma charged with “I’m gonna catch you!” to the giggling twins — who were just sprouting up so fast, how were they so tall already? The gaggle ran around the idle pond in clamorous fun.
Gramma had gleefully lept at the chance to help raise the younglings while Ben and Rey transitioned into her old position.
“Consult me on anything you need,” Leia had told them, “But only if you bring drinks first.”
Ben took in a deep breath, grateful for this little interlude. The chaos of reformatting the Galaxy, well, it took its toll. And even with familial and droid assistance for parenting, there never seemed to be a free moment. Except for this one, right here, right now, with Rey.
“Should I ask what you’re thinking about?” Rey teased.
She had fallen back into the work like she never left. That always amazed Ben, who had had a - a more difficult transition, to say the least.
“The day you have to ask me what I am thinking about,” Ben said, “I know we have a problem.”
“We have a problem,” said Rey, holding up her empty glass and smirking.
And Ben refilled it with whiskey, giving a snort.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much better,” she replied.
And they both took little a sip while their brood waded into the waters.
“No Anakin, keep on your floaties!” shouted the grandma.
“But I can swim by myself now!”
“That’s a load of bantha fodder,” said Gramma.
“MOM!” yelled Ben. He knew he shouldn’t have let his mother drink that many rounds. She was too honest like this.
“What!! It is!” defended Gramma.
And little Leia shouted, “Bantha fodder! Bantha fodder!”
“LEIA!” admonished Rey.
And Ben near palmed his face. The moment of quiet was gone, wasn’t it.
-
Krys was lying naked on top of Hux before she had finished explaining anything.
Hux stroked her arm with his thumb lazily, still recovering. “So… that dream of yours,” he revisited coyly, “You’re to say that’s what it was?”
And Krys laughed. She never had laughed so freely or frequently as she did these days. And never so often because of something that didn’t concern someone else’s death, pain, or suffering.
“Well, it was certainly a part of it...,” she replied. “But first… how was your day?”
“You dare keep me in suspense.”
“You dare keep me ‘in suspense’?”
And he ravaged her again.
-
Elsewhere, hours later, the little ones proved sound asleep.
Gramma Leia had recounted to them their favorite family tales - from the Great Luke Skywalker, to Han Solo the Scruffy-Looking Nerf Herder (whom she missed so much), and even her own stories. She was royalty, and she dubbed her grandchildren the Prince and Princess of the world.
When the kiddos asked about their own parents, Leia said, “You’ll have to ask them about that yourselves.”
Quietly closing the children’s door to soft snoozes, Gramma Leia met Ben and Rey at the kitchen table.
“Thanks for your input again, Mom,” Ben said. “We really appreciate it.”
“We know you’re trying to relax these days,” added Rey, “But it’s so helpful to be able to talk with you about everything.”
“I love you all,” replied Leia, “I love to see you, no matter what. Whatever the call may be…”
A beat passed.
“So, are you gonna have a third?” she injected.
“MOM!” cried Ben.
“What, it’s just a question!” Leia roused, laughing.
“Well, maybe…,” whispered Rey with a dreamy look at her husband.
“Wait, what? Honey, WHAT!”
And Ben was both overwhelmed and outnumbered by the giggling women.
-
Only after hours had passed would Hux answer, skin to skin, the open balcony air wafting over him and Krys in their shared bed.
“Ah, today, today…,” he mused. “Ro and I spent time with the Fargars. They are, as usual, busy poking their politics to incite whatever off-world violence they can.”
“And selling to the highest bidder… ah, the Fargars, as petty at business as they are rotten at gambling.”
“Hahaha,” said Hux, “Indeed. Indeed… Now… out with it, love,” Hux said. “What exactly did you see?”
Her eyes shined.
—
“Did you really mean that?” Ben asked as the Dyad readied for bed.
“Mean what?” Rey yawned, pulling back the covers.
“Having a third.”
“Oh. Well. It was kind of a joke…,” She looked up to him, pausing. “But… also…”
Her brown eyes glowed from the soft lamplight of their abode. She reached to him kindly, longingly, wantingly.
“Baby,” he cooed, so sweetened by her.
“I know we’re busy,” she said, “I know we have so much on our plate, quelling these stupid intraworld disputes and maintaining peace and prosperity; I know we haven’t stopped going since… well.”
“We’ve never stopped going,” he chuckled, the tired old man showing through.
“We haven’t…,” Rey led, and those eyes came out again: “but when I look at you and our wonderful babies and all the amazing things we’re doing… all I want is you to get me pregnant again.”
“HAHAHA!” he chortled, taken aback but so charmed, ever so charmed by her.
“My sweet. My love. My bride...”
“Yes?” she said.
And he was on her.
And they were going to have a third. Fourth.
And fifth.
The future had swirled in Krys’ vision. And now so too did it in the dreams of the Dyad.
That night, Ben saw his first boy Anakin all grown up. He was much like his father, keeping the peace within the galaxy. And Rey saw her own daughter, so much like her namesake, keeping the evils at bay.
Yet also within the twins there was placed Light, and there was placed Darkness.
However, the brother and sister were each other’s keepers: they worked to balance these pushes and pulls; they achieved a perfect Grey within themselves and each other. Their siblings never far on their own journeys.
When the time came, the brothers and sisters would take care of their grandmother, then their parents, as all were meant to eventually join the Force.
But there were other children too, children of the Resistance. Children of the First Order. With all their own lives and new challenges to face.
But they would be happy. All of them. Each and every one would all be happy. And nothing could take that from them.
Krys squeezed Hux’s hand there, blinking back an infinity in the twinkle of an eye.
And together, for now and for all time, the Dyad breathed as One.