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Red (like a fire)

Shara musters out with a compensation package and her a-wing and a little tree that she’s not sure what to do with.

They had talked, in those rare moments during the war when they saw each other, of setting down somewhere, and doing something mundane, like farming.

They’d both laughed about it at first, but the spark of the idea wouldn’t be put out. And now, here they are, on Yavin 4 -- the tree in her arms and Poe on Kes’s shoulders -- standing in front of their new house.

Something warm blooms in her at the possibility before them.

Orange (like a sunrise)

Kes is slow to get up in the mornings. When he doesn’t respond to the alarm, or when she shakes him, Shara takes drastic measures.

Straddling his lap, she braces her elbows on either side of his head, leans in close and lets her hair fall, the ends tickling his face. When his eyelids flutter, she kisses him, languidly, like they have all the time in the galaxy.

He groans when she pulls back.

“It was your idea to be a farmer. Means you have to get up at dawn.”

They’re settling into their new life, away from the war.

Yellow (like the harvest)

Days go slowly, but seasons change quickly: fences need mending, machinery needs replacing, and Poe’s gone up another shoe size. The years pass before she knows it.

The ranch is hard work, different from their past lives as pilot and soldier, but with its own challenges.

L’ulo moves in on the other side of the growing settlement, and some pathfinders Kes knows settle in town, too. They get together once a month to play cards, and they joke that Yavin’s becoming a Rebellion retirement community. She doesn’t listen to the voice that tells her it’s too good to be true.

Green (like leaves)

“So full. Can’t move.”

Kes laughs against her neck. His fingers hitch up under her shirt and tease the skin on her belly. “I’ll take that as a complement.”

They are sitting under the big tree behind the house, the one Luke told her look after, when it was just a sapling. The sunlight filters through its branches, with a soft, almost magical glow. Kes looks beautiful in this light.

She hums in agreement. “You are an amazing cook. Really, it’s the only reason I married you.”

Shara could stay here forever. It’s moments like this that they fought for.

Blue (like the sky)

Poe’s getting too big for them both to squeeze into the cockpit. He probably doesn’t need her there anymore, but Shara’s not quite ready to let go.

She sits behind him, and smiles at the way his breath quickens as they slingshot around Yavin’s other moons.

They have matching grins when they land. Kes shakes his head in resigned amusement. “Guess it was too much to ask to raise a nice, quiet farmer.”

Poe loves to fly, and Shara wants him to see the stars. She hopes he doesn’t have to see them through the crosshairs of a star fighter.

Indigo (like a bruise)

They’d known that there were those who stayed loyal to the Empire. They’re outliers, nothing to be worried about, they all assure each other. But there are rumors lately, of villages being attacked, of children being taken. It’s unsettling.

Civil Defense increases its patrols around the system. Shara keeps her a-wing in good repair, just in case. Kes normally has his blaster locked away, but one night, after dinner, Shara finds him in the den, cleaning it.

He looks up at her, a little guilty. “Can’t be too sure, yeah?”

Shara just sits down next to him and helps.

Violet (like the night)

She’s tired -- all the time. She wakes in the middle of the night, feeling like she’s burning from the inside out.

She doesn’t say anything to Kes until she’s certain.

Shara puts their son to bed, then finds Kes in the front hall, on his hands and knees, scrubbing the mud Poe’s tracked in from the forest off the floorboards.

They stay up late, talking out the options. Life can change in an instant -- Shara’s lost count of her life changing moments. She thinks of Kes and Poe, and hopes she can hold on for a few more of theirs.