Their ship malfunctions, the mission goes south, and the royal guards catch them trying to steal parts and get the hell out of orbit. Poe is clapped in irons and thrown into the royal dungeon without incident, but the droid who processes Finn starts beeping dramatically, and in short order Finn is surrounded by excited doctors who take his blood, print his feet, and gape wildly at each other before apologizing, profusely. One of them starts weeping as she bandages the little puncture on his arm, where she’d drawn blood.
“Um, that’s all right,” Finn says, uncomfortable, trying to pull his arm away. She weeps harder, and mutters something about twenty-three years and eight pounds, eleven ounces. “You don’t have to–do whatever it is you’re doing. You could let us go, though, if you want,” he adds optimistically.
They do not let him go.
Instead, they sweep him into the nicest room Finn has ever seen–all gold and marble with real silk curtains and a forcefield glittering over the windows. Two humans are waiting for him–one very old woman, and one man maybe a little younger than the General. The man lets out a little involuntary sound when he sees Finn, and the woman visibly pales, gripping the man’s arm tight enough that Finn can see her knuckles whiten.
The man recovers himself first, although he can’t stop himself from staring at Finn, as though some private secret is laid bare by Finn’s face. “What’s your name?” he asks Finn, hoarsely.
“Finn Dameron,” Finn tells them, and begins uncertainly to give them the cover identity he and Poe came up with a while back. “I’m a pilot on the New Destiny, on my way to Yavin 4. My ship crash-landed just outside the capital, and–it was all a misunderstanding, but you’ve got my copilot in your dungeon, ma’am. Sir.”
“Your name is not Finn Dameron,” the old woman says, brushing off the man, and Finn feels a brief flicker of panic–does she know? How could she know? They’re not in First Order territory–when she steps forward until she’s standing just in front of him. She’s just as tall as he is, and her eyes are dark and glittering. She takes both of his hands in hers, and Finn feels his mouth go dry, a strange dread welling up in him for whatever she’s about to say next. “Your name is Orion Nox D’elian,” she says in a clear, merciless voice. “Your father was Lesser-Prince Isa Nox D’elian. You are my grandson.”
*
Finn tries to explain that it’s not possible, he was a Stormtrooper, he doesn’t have a family, but everyone keeps chiming in to explain how it is possible. Lesser-Prince Isa was killed on a hospital-ship raid. All the children who didn’t die were taken by the First Order, including Lesser-Prince Orion. He was three months old. They’ve been looking for him ever since.
Looking for Prince Orion, Finn reminds himself, staving back the panic and shaking his head wildly at the servant who tries offering him a platter of unfamiliar sweet-smelling fruit. Not FN-1287, and definitely not Finn Dameron, Resistance soldier.
“Your mother has been notified,” the man says, who turns out to be High-Prince Mada Nox D’elian, and keeps telling Finn that he’s his uncle. He can’t seem to stop smiling, and it’s not helping Finn’s nerves.“She’s on a diplomatic mission to Titian 3, but she’s already on her way back. It shouldn’t take more than a day.”
But Finn doesn’t have a mother–has never had a mother–and the thought of this strange woman appearing and claiming the title makes him suddenly sick. “I want to see Poe Dameron,” he says loudly, interrupting the High-Prince, who is showing him a holo of Lesser-Prince Isa, who looks horrifically like the face Finn knows from the mirror. “He’s my friend. My copilot. In your dungeon. Can you–I want to see him. Please.”
When they bring Poe up, he’s clearly been run under a sonic, because the sweat and grime they’d both accumulated on the journey from the crash site is gone. He’s also been bundled into a raw silk robe, and someone’s spritzed tea-tree oil into his hair, as Finn discovers when he races to hug Poe and get his grip on reality back.
“Hey, hey, buddy,” Poe says cautiously into Finn’s hair, hugging back just as tightly. His body is tense against Finn’s, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to bolt, as much as Finn might welcome the idea.“You okay?”
“I’m okay,” Finn confirms, still inhaling tea-tree oil. “They, um. They think I’m their missing prince.”
“Wow,” Poe says slowly, hands slipping away as Finn reluctantly detaches himself. “I mean. Wow. That explains why they keep calling me princess-consort, anyway.”
HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS. IT’S SO GREAT!!!
