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Poe stayed out in the north field until the sun was almost touching the horizon, later than normal. His muscles ached, and he’d sweated through his work clothes more than once that day. The afternoon storm had provided some relief, but the air was thick and humid again even as the heat waned. He surveyed their progress with satisfaction, the rich earth freshly dug and ready for planting.
He sighed contentedly – he was home.
He motioned to the droids that he was heading in and they should do the same. After loading up his speeder he set off at a more leisurely pace than his earlier days, when working on his father’s farm was the last thing he’d ever wanted to end up doing. His teenage years had been filled with a longing for adventure, far away from the sleepy settlement whose time as an important Rebellion base had long passed. The resulting arguments with Kes, who was reticent about his only son joining the Navy, had been protracted and bitter. In the end Poe got his way, and his visits home had been shamefully infrequent after he received his first commission.
Poe never imagined returning home at 35, and once again getting his hands dirty day after day. The original plan had been to stay briefly to help his father get the farm up and running again after two years of displacement due to the war. There were abandoned, overgrown crops to contend with, and fields to till and resow. But first they’d had to repair the damage done to the homestead and outer buildings by the First Order and bounty hunters who’d come in search of him. Kes wasn’t angry at the destruction and vandalism, he never so much as intimated it was because of Poe that almost everything he’d worked for his whole life had been ruined. But Poe knew, and the guilt gnawed at him.
The obligation to make it right was ever-present, and yet he knew deep down it wasn’t the reason he was still there.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have other offers. The New Republic was consolidating its military, bringing together Resistance resources that had ultimately defeated the First Order. As General of those forces, Poe could have requested any posting he liked, at any rank he liked. Instead he’d refused offer after offer, even when Holdo herself had requested it. The lowest blow came when she suggested it would be what Leia would have expected, even demanded, of him. But like his stubbornness after he decided to join the Navy, his decision to leave the military behind him was made. Even if it was selfish. Even if Leia would have been disappointed in him.
He banished the thought – he was home.
He was glad of it, relieved to be away from that life. Away from poorly resourced bases and stretching their too-small fleet across a vast galaxy. Away from tense command centers, and the constant and never-ending requirement to make decisions that sent far too many pilots and soldiers to their deaths. Though he missed his friends, and each day still brought memories of the times they’d shared together, good and bad, he didn’t want to lead another battle as long as he lived.
When Poe reached the homestead, light all but disappeared from the sky, he spied the figure on the porch of the smaller building – the separate house that they’d had to almost completely reconstruct. It never failed give him a small thrill, usually of gratitude, sometimes of desire, and other times of simple relief, when he found her waiting for him to come in from the fields.
Rey was curled up on the bench seat, her face buried in a book even as dusk fell and it would nigh on impossible to read without retreating indoors. When she looked up and smiled at his approach he felt a wave of happiness and a tug of something else. Guilt? Failure? He could never quite tell, but it nagged at him.
He thought he’d be over it by now – he was home.
He was home, and Rey was there, too. Rey, the best pilot he’d ever seen (when he’d always fancied himself the best). A fierce warrior, trusted leader, and appropriator of his once-loyal astromech droid. Rey, his greatest surprise (when he’d least expected her). A mighty Force-wielder, brought into his life by circumstance and a Jedi Master on a remote island.
Rey, his wife.
“You’re late,” she commented casually, sticking her finger in her book.
“Storm put us behind.” Poe worked at scraping the thick mud from his boots.
Rey inhaled deeply and stretched her legs out on the bench. “I love your storms.”
He wasn’t surprised. She was happiest in wet weather, and Yavin 4 didn’t disappoint on that score. But it offered little else of interest, especially for someone as brilliant as she was. It continued to plague him, that she’d grow frustrated with their uneventful existence. Especially when there was so much more she could be doing, and any number of other places she could go. She was young, fearless, and adventurous. He felt completely the opposite.
“You aren’t too bored?” He broached the subject carefully in case he didn’t like the answer.
Her nose crinkled as she looked at him. “Why would you think I’m bored?”
“It’s not exactly the center of the galaxy, is it.” Poe pressed his lips together as he stepped out of his semi-clean boots and onto the porch.
“I’ve been to the center of the galaxy. Or close to it, anyway. I’ll take this any day.” She held out a hand to him which took without hesitation. “I live next to a Force tree, and a father-in-law who loves cooking even more than I love eating. I kinda hit the galactic jackpot.”
His mouth finally quirked with a smile as he sat down beside her, and Rey twisted so her feet were in his lap. She wriggled her toes until he took the hint and pressed his thumbs into her arches, his grin more pronounced at the familiar groan that accompanied his ministrations.
Poe looked out over the garden where she and Kes had replanted a mix of vegetables and tropical flowers that Rey adored. He could hear his Dad singing in the main house across the clearing, and the smallest of breezes that offered a bit of relief from the heat also brought with it the aroma of whatever Kes was making for supper.
It might not be the most exciting place to live but it was peaceful, the physical work was a welcome reprieve, and he had the two people he loved most there with him. To Poe it was perfect. He just had to stop himself from ruining it by worrying about things that he couldn’t control, or obsessing over what might happen in the future.
Rey reached out and tugged at his earlobe. “What’s with you?”
His hands stilled as he throat tightened unexpectedly. He had barely put his feelings into conscious thought, let alone words.
“Don’t you miss flying?” he said, unable to help himself.
“Of course.” She shrugged as if this shouldn’t be news to him, and it wasn’t. “I don’t miss being shot at. Or losing a member of my squadron.”
“War’s over. Wouldn’t you rather be up there?”
Poe had always thought that flying was in his blood and he’d never want to give it up, but after being effectively grounded due to command duties he’d missed it less and less. Rey was a natural pilot, and had taken to commanding starfighter squadrons so easily it put his years of training to shame. It seemed wrong that she’d given it up, rejecting offers from the Navy and its new flight schools. Instead she’d been reduced to a garden hand on a remote planet.
“I’m right where I want to be,” she said and burrowed her heels into his lap.
Poe covered her toes with his hand, running the other up her bare leg to her knee and back again. He bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath.
“I don’t want to leave,” he admitted, giving her the swiftest of glances. “I don’t think I can.”
“Who’s talking about leaving?”
“No one.” He sighed, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. “I always wondered how Kes could stand it, staying here all those years. Now I get it.”
When she didn’t say anything Poe shook his head, forcing himself to chuckle. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”
“You are pretty old.” Rey gave his thigh a nudge with one foot and offered him a dazzling smile when he met her gaze. Then her expression softened. “I don’t want to leave either.”
Poe’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Where do you think I’m going in this state?” Rey gestured to her very round belly that was stretching the capacity of his largest shirt. “Honestly, I can barely move from this bench thanks to your son.”
He grimaced in sympathy and rested his broad hand over the fabric. A different curl of fear tugged at his gut – they really were heading into the unknown. As quickly as possible, if Rey had anything to say about it as the last few weeks of the pregnancy tried her patience. Their victory baby. One of many in the Resistance.
Maybe that was why he had developed an overwhelming need to stay on Yavin 4. He’d never been one to obsess over his safety – when he was in a fight he trusted in his abilities and left the rest up to fate. Even after he found Rey his utter faith in her skill and power meant he had little need to worry that everything would be alright. But a baby – their baby – brought a whole new level of uncertainty. And keeping him safe was all Poe wanted to do.
“When he gets here I don’t know if I’ll ever want to leave,” he confessed.
“There’s worse places to raise a family. I can attest to that.” Her tone was light but his intent was not. She seemed to understand that and held out her hand until he entwined his fingers with hers. “I don’t know what the future will bring, except we’ll be together. And for now, that’s here. Our home.”
Rey grasped onto his forearm with her other hand and pulled herself up so she could reach his mouth with hers and pressed a warm kiss to it.
He smiled at her – he was home. They were home. And they weren’t going anywhere.