PHOENIX ━ dameron

076 | home by now

Everyone was waiting for the daughter of Luke Skywalker to return, but that wasn't who he saw.

He saw the daughter of Cora Grené.

Lyra's solemn expression split with a grin. It was a marvel to him that she was still in one piece.

Never would he be able to forget the feeling of watching her leave on Ahch-to. The pain of failing her again sat like a dead weight, another sin he might never atone for. He didn't deserve her forgiveness now and he never would, but seeing her standing in front of him now? This was more than he could have asked for.

Without a word, she let him pull her into his arms. He didn't realize how long it would be. The true toll of what it would take to find Wynn. And she had changed. A melancholy kind of wisdom in those gray eyes, one that no one so young deserved to hold so soon.

"Leia, you told me that the Falcon wasn't supposed to land for two hours." Luke said over Lyra's shoulder, raising a brow at Leia who stood with her arms folded. "Lies."

Lyra laughed, swiping the back of her hand under her eyes in a barely perceptible motion. "Two more hours would have been too long."

When he pulled away from her, his eyes darted to the necklace around her neck. Cora's necklace, once gold and glittering, was tarnished and covered in brown patina as if it had been oxidized for a century. He held it for a half second between his fingers, a poignant understanding passing through him. The clasp, which had shifted to the front, was welded permanently together into a small bead of metal. It was as if it had been done with the smallest of soldering irons, or perhaps melted between two pinched fingers of a girl on fire.

Lyra met his eyes. "Dad," she started to say, voice quiet. She didn't even need to finish; he had long feared that this would come to pass.

"Your debrief can wait, all of you," Leia said, referring mostly to Rey, who was leaning on her staff. The young girl was trailing Lyra like a shadow, and Luke knew she would be hard pressed to let her out of her sight now that she was back.

"I already heard them talking when I walked in. Ghost Jedi. Sound like anyone you know?" Luke said.

"No idea," Lyra told him, tilting her head. "Must be a Skywalker, though, I heard they have a habit of disappearing."

"That habit is ending right now," Leia said sternly. "Anyone else who wants to disappear is going to have to go through me first."

"Was that a threat?"

"Do you want it in writing? Yes, it was a threat," she told him pointedly.

"Noted, General," Lyra said with a mock salute. But Luke knew she meant every word. No one would be disappearing now.

"Rey," Luke cleared his throat to address her. "Thank you."

Rey beamed, looking between all of them with shining eyes. She was a believer, a practitioner of the rare gift of seeing the good in all things. A reminder that hope did indeed spring eternal if it was allowed to thrive. She was shaken by her heritage, but not to her core. There she remained steadfast, and Luke would not see her fall.

And he knew Lyra wouldn't either. Ardently loyal and protective to the point of fatal flaw, his daughter was not one to let a single person slip through the cracks. And maybe that was why things had felt so altered without her there. Even to him, a newcomer in the scheme of the Resistance, could see how impactful of a loss it had been.

There was a shrill beep of binary. At first, Luke thought it was Artoo making his presence known, but instead, the form of a bulky R-6 droid rolled into view. The green paint had begun to collect dust, but other than that, the droid rolled at pace, enlivened for the first time in ages.