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The Chosen One

Summary:

When they were young, it was about sex.

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When they were young, it was about sex.

They fought and they fucked, and sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. Kylo Ren didn't care. He enjoyed both, and whenever Snoke announced Kylo would be making a visit to liaise with the First Order, Kylo had to restrain himself from grinning.

At first, Hux had affected disdain. He sighed, he rolled his eyes, he intimated—and then complained outright—that a young officer of his calibre, a major no less, had better things to do than escort Snoke's apprentice from the shuttle bay to the commander's office.

“They must be afraid you'll steal the silverware or something,” Hux snapped on one occasion. Kylo wasn't fooled. Hux was annoyed, slightly, by the assignment, but he was far more fascinated by Kylo. He was endlessly curious about a man so different from the regimented, repressed military people with whom he'd spent his entire life. Like nearly everyone Kylo met, Hux wanted to know what lay beneath the mask, literally and figuratively. Kylo let him wonder for nearly a full year. Then one afternoon, as they boarded the lift in the shuttle bay, Kylo casually removed his helmet and put it beneath his arm.

It wasn't Kylo's intention to inspire lust. He didn't think of himself that way. He'd just wanted to catch Hux off-guard, to put him on the back foot, but when Hux looked at Kylo's face for the first time, desire burst forth, as if from a ruptured dam. It filled the lift, overwhelming Kylo and then flustering him. He pushed past Hux when they arrived at their destination, and delivered a halting, stuttering report to Commander Okami.

Kylo learned his lesson. The next time, he left his helmet firmly in place. Hux still cast little glances at him, quick and darting, as if he thought Kylo wouldn't notice. When Kylo left Okami's office, having delivered a much more coherent message this time, Hux was there, loitering nearby.

“My shift ends at 1800,” he said, his voice low.

“Oh,” Kylo replied, unsure how he was meant to respond. Hux looked at him, then shook his head, as if he couldn't quite believe Kylo. As if he couldn't quite believe himself.

“Do you want to have sex?”

“With you?” That didn't sound the way Kylo wanted. It was scornful when truly, Kylo was only surprised. Hux blinked, his cheeks beginning to turn red. Kylo quickly said, “All right.” He did want that. He had, he realized, always wanted that.

They were both inexperienced, Hux slightly less than Kylo. By necessity, their encounters were brief. Hux enjoyed rough treatment in bed, rougher than Kylo might have chosen, but there was little time to argue or negotiate. When Hux was promoted to colonel, Kylo agreed to celebrate by wearing his helmet while Hux blew him. When Hux made general, Kylo fucked him more brutally than ever before, his fingers digging into Hux's hips and his cock driving into Hux so hard and so deeply, the normally quiet Hux let out a loud groan. It stilled Kylo, for a moment, but then Hux gasped, “Don't stop. You're fucking amazing.” Noises were unusual from Hux; profanity and praise were unheard of. Kylo renewed his pace and redoubled his efforts.

Once they were both assigned to the Finalizer on a more or less permanent basis, they didn't need to worry about getting in as much as they could in a short space of time. They fell into a less frenzied routine. On rare occasions, they even spent the night together, when Hux was in a particularly generous mood or when Kylo fucked him so well he stopped caring.

Sometimes, Kylo wondered whether he ought to try fucking someone else, just for the experience. He wasn't sure who this individual might be. It would be inappropriate to touch his brother and sister knights, and everyone else was too far beneath him to even consider.

The commander of the First Order ship Obliterator was beneath Kylo as well, but he was at least a high ranking officer. Admiral Ulfort was as different from Hux as it was possible to get, stocky and dark with large muscles and curly black hair. When he visited the Finalizer for a joint briefing, Kylo accepted Ulfort's invitation to spar with him. Afterward, Kylo made an invitation of his own.

It was less than spectacular, a rushed handjob in the gymnasium. It certainly meant nothing, but when Kylo casually mentioned it to Hux a few days later, as they lay in Hux's bed, the room suddenly turned cold.

“What?” Kylo sat up. Since that first time in the lift, Hux had been the epitome of restraint, his feelings quiet enough that Kylo had to concentrate hard to read him. Normally, he didn't bother. Now, Hux was surrounded by an emotional black cloud, pulsating with so much anger and—hurt?—that Kylo had no choice but to take notice. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Why would you think something was wrong?”

“You feel...” It was very obvious what Hux felt. The reason wasn't so evident, at least not to Kylo. “I don't understand.”

“There's nothing to understand.” Hux stood.

“But I didn't think...” Hux had never suggested it would bother him if Kylo did it with anyone else.

“You're quite right." Hux smiled. It was more of a grimace. "Variety is wonderful. I'll try it myself, in fact. I'm going to a meeting on Khodera at the end of the week. I'm sure I'll find someone willing there.” Kylo was sure he would. The thought of it brought a sudden pain to his gut, like being stabbed, or shot. “I think I'll bid you good night, Ren.” Hux disappeared into the refresher. Kylo waited, then waited some more. When it became apparent Hux wouldn't be emerging, at least not while Kylo was there, Kylo threw on his clothes and stalked out. On his way back to his quarters, he overturned a meal cart, pulled a maintenance panel off the wall and punched a droid. None of it made him feel any better.

The thirty-six standard hours Hux spent on Khodera were the longest of Kylo's life. An hour before Hux's shuttle was due back, Kylo went to wait in the hangar, in case he arrived early. His pacing unnerved the hangar personnel, he could tell by the anxious looks they kept casting in his direction, but he didn't care. When Hux's shuttle finally landed—twenty-seven minutes late—Kylo would have jumped on him at once if not for the preemptive hand Hux held up.

“I need to write a meeting report,” he said, looking at Kylo evenly. “If you want to speak to me for some reason, you will have to wait until I'm finished.”

“But I...”

“Later,” Hux repeated, and walked away.

Kylo waited in his quarters, his imagination running wild. Hux had fucked dozens of handsome men and beautiful women. He'd engaged in a full-blown orgy. He'd invented sexual acts and positions heretofore unknown to the galaxy. It was all extremely improbable, but knowing that didn't quiet Kylo's mind. Just as he thought he would truly go mad, the door opened and Hux appeared.

Kylo went to him, lifting him off the ground and burying his nose in Hux's neck. “Stop it!” Hux pushed at his shoulders, but Kylo was stronger. He didn't release him. “What are...are you sniffing me?” Kylo was. He couldn't detect any foreign odours, just the smell of Hux himself, but of course there had been ample time for him to wash.

“How many people?” Kylo had to know the truth of it, to get it over with.

“What?” Hux squirmed in his arms. “Put me down.” Reluctantly, Kylo set him on his bed. Hux smoothed down his hair and straightened his uniform.

“How many?” Kylo insisted. He didn't care about putting up a casual front. It was far too late for that. He need to have the details, so his imagination could be contained. Even if the truth was worse than he pictured, at least he would know. “Tell me, or I...”

“Or you'll what?” A scowl came to Hux's face. “Jerk off a visiting officer in the gym?” Kylo's cheeks grew hot. “I didn't fuck anyone, all right? I...” Hux sighed heavily. “I couldn't. Not because I didn't get offers,” he added. He didn't have to. Kylo knew he would have had many offers. “I didn't want to.” He sounded angry about it. Kylo could understand that. He'd been furious for a week.

This, though, lightened his mood considerably. “That's good.” More than that, it was fantastic. Kylo's heart soared as he sat on the bed next to Hux. Hux didn't move away, even as he said, “No, it's really, really bad.” Kylo put an arm over his shoulders. “We're going to wind up in trouble, Ren.”

“Yes.” It was inevitable, no matter what they did. That was the life they led. “It's all right, though. I'll protect you.” The thought of it made Kylo's already happy heart swell further. He could do that. He wanted to do that.

“Fuck you.” There was no venom in it. Kylo leaned in, and when he kissed Hux, Hux kissed back, hard and desperate. The way Kylo felt. “If you cheat on me again, I'll cut your balls off,” Hux said as he lay down, bringing Kylo with him.

“I won't,” Kylo swore. He kept his promise.

***

When they got a bit older, it was about love.

It started after the disaster on the Starkiller base. Kylo had never been so devastated. He didn't care about his physical injuries, he wasn't upset that he'd killed Han Solo, but the idea that an untrained scavenger could best him with his grandfather's lightsaber was mentally cataclysmic. After many weeks of meditation at Snoke's fortress, Kylo's depression lifted slightly, and he realized Hux was bound to be just as agonized by what had happened that day.

Starkiller was Hux's pride and joy. He believed in it as strongly as Kylo believed in his own destiny, and Kylo could imagine how painful it would have been for him to see it fall to ruins. Kylo wished he was with Hux. Not because Hux would accept Kylo's empathy—he wouldn't—but because Kylo could still have given it. Even if Hux didn't want to hear it, he would at least know he wasn't alone, that Kylo was suffering alongside him.

“You think too much of him,” Snoke said abruptly one day, after Kylo had been at the fortress for several months. Snoke didn't need to specify to whom he was referring. Kylo knew, and he knew it was true. “Too much, and too highly. I blame myself,” Snoke went on. “I am kindhearted. That is my failing. I should have nipped it in the bud long ago.”

“It's not your fault, Supreme Leader.” Kylo was the one to blame. Kylo, and Hux himself, for being so easy to think about.

“You will never fulfill your potential as long as you remain distracted. Your grandfather learned this.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. I will do better.”

Snoke stared at him for a long, terrifying moment. “See that you do,” he said, finally, and spoke no more on the subject.

Kylo tried to improve, but, as so often seemed the case, his goals, while made in good faith, proved impossible to reach. He hadn't seen Hux in long time, but Hux's face was there when he closed his eyes. It was Hux's voice, caustic and cross and lovely, that came to him even during the sacred hours of meditation. It was Hux he longed for in the dead of night, when his punishing training regime rendered him so exhausted he should have been asleep before his head hit his thin mat. Instead, Kylo remembered the nights in Hux's bed on the Finalizer, Hux's unexpected warmth and the way he looked when Kylo fucked him the way he liked best. Just as he couldn't banish the Light, Kylo couldn't banish Hux. Which was ironic, Kylo thought miserably, since Hux was the darkest being he knew.

Nearly.

Kylo lost track of time. He thought a year or more must have passed since the Starkiller disaster, but he couldn't have said exactly how long. Then one day, with no prior warning, Snoke said to him, “You have but one task remaining.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“I will give you the co-ordinates of a planet. There is, on that planet, an extremely dangerous creature. Slay it, and you will have completed your training.”

Kylo was surprised, a little, but of course he didn't show it. That was it? Killing some wild animal? “Yes, Supreme Leader.” Kylo hesitated. “If I may ask...”

“You may ask nothing. That is your task. You will kill the beast, or you will perish yourself. I greatly hope it is the former.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. Thank you.”

The planet was densely forested. It reminded Kylo a little of Endor, but as he arrived, he could neither see nor sense the presence of any being other than himself.

He disembarked from the shuttle and looked around for tracks or leavings, anything that may give some hint as to the type of creature he sought. There was nothing. A light breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees, and Kylo wondered if this beast was metaphorical. Snoke knew he vastly preferred concrete assignments to psychological ones, but perhaps that was the point. Kylo's final task was surely not meant to be easy.

Kylo ventured a distance from the shuttle, cutting a swathe through the underbrush as he went. There was a satisfying crunch and crackle as the bushes fell away before him. He walked until he reached a clearing crossed by a small, shallow stream, bubbling attractively over a bed of glistening rocks. He bent down and scooped a handful of sweet water into his mouth. As Kylo sat up, he heard a rustling in the forest.

At once, he was on high alert. He jumped to his feet, readying his lightsaber in his hands. Treading silently, Kylo took a step toward the sound, and then another. It was drawing nearer. I will wait, Kylo decided. Rather than attack blindly now, he would remain still until the creature emerged into the clearing, whereupon Kylo would catch it by surprise.

Even after all his months of training and meditation, patience did not come easily to him. He breathed heavily, biting his lip and clutching the lightsaber's hilt. The sound stopped, then started again. As Kylo's resolve teetered on the breaking point, there was a loud crash and General Hux stumbled out of the forest.

At least, it resembled General Hux. If the being was a shapeshifter, there was no telling what it really was. “Who are you?” Kylo yelled.

Hux looked at him as if he'd gone mad. “Are you serious?” Hux's uniform was wrinkled, Kylo noticed, and adorned with burrs, little twigs and globs of tree sap. His hair was in disarray. He looked tired, and dirty, and completely fed up. “Who do you bloody think I am, Ren?”

No shapeshifter was that good. Kylo powered down the lightsaber, dropped his mask on the ground and pulled Hux into his arms.

It had been so long, and it felt so good. Tears of relief welled up in Kylo's eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut against them, but when Hux embraced him in return, holding him tightly as if he expected Kylo to disappear, Kylo was lost. He let the tears fall. Hux pressed his lips to Kylo's neck, then to his damp cheek. When he pulled back, Hux's eyes were equally misty, but Kylo knew better than to mention it.

“You look well.” Hux traced a finger down Kylo's scar. “I mean, it's there, but it's fine. I like it.”

“I missed you.” Kylo admitted.

“Mmhm.” Hux didn't need to say it. Kylo knew the feeling was mutual. “Let's get out of here.” Hux turned to go.

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“There's a wild creature somewhere on the planet. I have to kill it to complete my training.”

Hux frowned. “Is that why you called me here?”

“I called you?”

“Yes, of course.” The frown grew deeper. “Why did you think I was here? I fancied a stroll on some random backwater planet?”

No. No, tell me that's not it. At once, Kylo felt sick, his stomach churning with the emotional whiplash of going from elated to agonized in an instant. Snoke wouldn't be that cruel. Even as the words formed in his mind, he knew they weren't true. Snoke would be that cruel. He would revel in it.

“Do you want me to help you find this thing, then?” Hux asked. “I've got my blaster, but I don't know that I'm a great hunter.”

“It's fine.” Kylo's voice was rougher than he'd intended.

Hux looked at him. He'll see through me, Kylo thought, fighting against the rising panic. He'll know. Kylo opened his mouth. It would be better to say it out loud, better to admit it than to let Hux figure it out by himself. Kylo owed Hux that much, at least.

But before Kylo could speak, Hux said, “I thought you were dead, Ren.” His voice was quiet, his gaze fixed on some point over Kylo's shoulder. “That distressed me. A great deal.”

Kylo embraced him again. This time, Hux kissed him on the mouth. He tasted like he always did, like recycled spaceship air and something indefinable and probably expensive. I can't do it, Kylo thought. He hadn't honestly thought he could. I won't do it. He didn't expect an answer. He jumped a little in Hux's arms when the voice came, harsh and angry in the back of his head.

Then you are a selfish, disappointing child. I will not stand for it, Snoke declared. I will wage war on both of you. Neither of you will survive.

“Do what you must.” Kylo spoke the words aloud. They were brash and defiant, and he meant them absolutely.

“What?” Hux pulled away.

“I love you,” Kylo said.

“Yes,” Hux replied, and Kylo knew that meant, “I love you, too.”

***

When they were old, it was about family.

Snoke's “war” was over so quickly, Kylo was almost embarrassed for him. The Knights of Ren sided with Kylo, of course. Snoke was a fool if he'd ever thought they would do otherwise. Kylo had the Knights and his powers, Hux had the First Order—or at least enough of them that the rest didn't matter—and, in the blink of an eye, Snoke was gone.

It destabilized Kylo, a little. Snoke had been with him longer than anyone he knew, literally inside his head since childhood, but Hux was more important. Seeing the look on Hux's face, regal yet modest, thrilled yet restrained, when he was named Supreme Leader made all thoughts of Snoke disappear for good.

Hux was a better leader than Snoke ever was. He didn't have the Force, but he had a vision, and he had the discipline to bring it to life. It wasn't easy. Even now, more than twenty-five years on, the Resistance was not completely wiped out. They showed their faces from time to time, in minor uprisings and attacks that were quashed instantly by the ruthless might of Emperor Hux's armies. But decades of intelligent choices, thoughtful rule and, of course, regular consultation with Kylo and the Knights had created a New Empire far stronger than the old one, a regime that stretched to the four corners of the galaxy and encompassed tens of thousands of planets and billions of beings.

Hux and Kylo had never married officially, but there was no doubt as to Kylo's position. “The power behind the throne,” a holonews reporter had called him in the early days. Hux had huffed a bit, but Kylo liked it. He liked, as well, that his mother was sure to have seen the report, and that she was bound to know how far he had come. It made him pleased to think of her fury. He was also proud, in a way, that she was aware of his success.

“So many mummy issues,” Hux teased him, even as he named his own late mother's birthday an official galactic holiday.

A holiday that was coming around again soon. Over the years, Celestia Darwent Hux Day had become a major event, celebrated with parties and fireworks and parades across the galaxy. At the Imperial Palace, the Emperor himself gave an annual public address, followed by a lavish garden party considered by many to be the social event of the year. Kylo hated it. Most of all, he hated the security nightmare that came with it. An attack during the party, or better yet during the Emperor's address, simulcast via holonet across the galaxy, would be a platinum-plated feather in the cap of the Resistance. It had never happened, but every year, the thought of it gave Kylo heartburn for weeks leading up to Celestia Darwent Hux Day.

Tonight, unable to sleep, Kylo left Hux snoring in their bedchamber and went outside. As usual, teams of stormtroopers patrolled the grounds on a random schedule. The palace was surrounded by both primitive technology, in the form of high stone walls, and modern technology, in the form of hundreds of cameras trained on every part of the property, constantly monitored by droids. Kylo himself had modified lightsaber technology to create an impenetrable barrier above the walls, in case anyone thought about climbing over. Thick Durasteel plates extended far below ground, in case anyone tried to tunnel beneath.

Hux had once again refused to host the party from within a blaster-proof transparisteel cage, claiming it made him look "too unapproachable." Instead Kylo would be by his side as always, ignoring the idle chat in favour of constantly scanning the crowd for would-be assassins. This had been their routine for more than two decades. Apart from a single pickpocket who was summarily executed, there had never been trouble of any sort. Still, Kylo couldn't shake the worry that something might go wrong.

“Nothing unusual to report, Lord Ren,” a stormtrooper squad leader said, bowing slightly, when Kylo stopped him on his rounds. “Quiet night.”

Kylo nodded. “Carry on, then.”

He began a circuit of the palace grounds, wincing a little as pain radiated through his side. Kylo was remarkably fortunate that, although he was over fifty, his only major injuries had occurred that long ago night on the Starkiller base. Still, even after all this time, the bowcaster wound in his side gave him trouble, particularly on chilly nights like this. Wishing he'd stopped to put on a warmer coat, he walked around the edge of the property. It was a long way. The palace grounds encompassed two dozen buildings, opulent gardens, a small zoo, a topiary maze and two extravagant swimming pools. In their younger days—and in their not so young days—Kylo and Hux had often swum naked beneath the stars and fucked daringly and uncomfortably in the water, hidden from the stormtroopers behind the large flowers and ferns. It was there, by the smaller of the pools, that Kylo heard it. A sneeze.

Immediately, Kylo was on high alert. He drew his lightsaber, but didn't turn it on. Instead, he crept forward silently, one step at a time, until he was standing over the flowerbed and the shadowy figure huddled therein.

“Get up!” Kylo barked. A thrill of satisfaction ran through him when the person jumped. Kylo reached down, grabbing the interloper by the collar of their jacket, and hauled them up.

“I'm sorry!” The lights around the pool were enough to illuminate the figure's face. He was human, and young, probably only a teenager. His skin was light brown, his hair was dark, and he smelled terrible. Kylo recoiled, dropping him. The boy stood, brushing dirt from his pants. When he spoke, his voice shook. “I'm sorry, really. I'm not here to hurt anyone, I swear it.”

“How did you get in here?” That was Kylo's primary concern. Clearly, there was a flaw in his carefully designed security plan.

“With the gardener droids. I hid in a wheelbarrow, under the happabore manure.” That explained the boy's odour.

“How long have you been there?” The fact that none of the stormtrooper patrols had noticed him was alarming, to say the least.

“Since this afternoon. I was going to approach the castle in the morning, I promise. I just didn't want to be dragged in by stormtroopers in the middle of the night. I thought you might get the wrong idea.”

“And what would the 'right idea' be?”

The boy squared his shoulders. “I want to join you.” He said it like a proclamation. “I want to defect.”

“So you're a member of the Resistance.” Kylo's hand returned to the lightsaber. A squad of six stormtroopers ran across the garden toward them. About time, Kylo thought.

“My parents are. But I want to be here. With you.” The boy took a deep breath. “My name is Han Skywalker,” he said. “My parents are Rey and Finn Skywalker.”

It wasn't possible. But why not? Kylo asked himself. Rey was a decade younger than him, so over forty now. It was entirely plausible she could have a son of this age. Would she be devious enough to send him in as a spy? Maybe. They hadn't encountered each other in person since Starkiller Base, but she was out there, masterminding every Resistance plot, leading every Resistance offensive. She was the Jedi General Skywalker, and she had been since Kylo's mother had died.

“Your Highness!” The stormtroopers saluted. “Your Highness, we apologize...”

“Go away,” Kylo snapped. Then, so they didn't think they were getting off lightly, “We'll discuss it later.”

“I know what you must think,” the boy—Kylo refused to think of him as Han, or even Skywalker—said, when the stormtroopers were gone. “But I swear, I'm here because I want to be. I'm not strong with the Force. Not at all.” He swallowed and rubbed his hands on his dirty pants. “I have two sisters who are. My mother's busy training them, and running the Resistance, and my father's always away on missions. I never see either of them. When I learned I was related to you, and to the great Darth Vader...” Even in the dark, admiration shone in the boy's eyes. Kylo knew how that felt. “Even though I can't use the Force, I thought I might be of some use to you. Please.” Looking closer, Kylo could see a bit of Rey in his face, and even more of the traitor stormtrooper.

There was only one way to be sure.

“Stay still,” Kylo ordered. The boy nodded. Kylo reached out a hand and peered deep into his mind.

It was true that Rey was his mother and the former stormtrooper was his father. The boy had grown up moving from one Resistance stronghold to another as the First Order gradually took over the galaxy. Rey had a group of Jedi younglings, including her own two daughters, under her protection, but the boy didn't belong with them. He lacked the skills. The stormtrooper tried to be a father to him—the boy loved him, at any rate—but he was so often away that at times the boy struggled to remember his face. Then, the boy had heard about his mother's cousin Ben: traitor to his family, murderer of his own father, a man who, like his grandfather before him, had turned his back on all that was “good” and “right” to rule the galaxy beside a maniacal despot. The boy couldn't understand what was so bad about Ben. There had been a fight. Kylo saw it clearly.

“The New Empire has done a lot of good for the galaxy,” the boy shouted at his mother. “They've brought peace and stability. Maybe we should try and see that, instead of blindly trying to kill them.”

“You don't know anything about it, Han.” Rey replied. She was icily calm. That enraged him more than shouting would have. “You're too young to understand.”

“I'm old enough to know where I belong,” he'd said, and he'd stormed out of the house. He'd come here.

Kylo needed to discuss this with Hux, but he didn't want to leave the boy with the stormtroopers, and clearly, he couldn't trust him alone. “Come on,” Kylo ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the boy replied. Kylo took him roughly by the shoulder, and steered him across the lawns to the palace.

The top of the north tower held Kylo and Hux's private apartments. There were a pair of restraints in Hux's bedside cabinet. Kylo hoped the boy was too young—or at least too anxious, as fear was coming off him in waves—to wonder why they were there. He used them to attach the boy's wrist to the Durasteel arm of a chair in the living room. Then, clutching the key so tightly it left a mark on his palm, Kylo went to wake up Hux.

He turned the lights up to one hundred percent and shook Hux roughly by the ankle. Hux awoke frowning, blinking against the glare. “What are you doing? What time is it?”

“I've found Rey's son.”

Hux sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What?”

“Rey's son. I've found him.”

Hux looked at him. “What are you talking about? Did you have a dream?” He sighed. “Kylo, I've been telling you for years that Force visions aren't reality.”

“He's here, Hux. Right now. In the living room.”

Hux never showed surprise, ever. It was a valuable asset as ruler, Kylo supposed, but sometimes, it was extremely frustrating. Hux raised an eyebrow, as if this were the most banal of announcements. “Dare I ask why?”

“He says he wants to join us.”

“Do you believe him?”

Kylo hesitated. “I think so.”

“You think?”

“I was in his mind. I think he's telling the truth.”

“But...”

“But his mother is the only one who's ever been able to shield herself from me. He might have inherited the trait.”

Hux pursed his lips. “All right,” he said finally, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I'll be there in a moment.”

Kylo sat on an armchair across from the boy, waiting. When Hux emerged from the bedroom, he was dressed in his silk dressing gown and cravat—the stupidest of clothing items, as Kylo had no compunction about telling him—his leather slippers on his feet. The boy stood and bowed as well as he could with one wrist shackled to the chair, his anxiety increasing tenfold. Kylo could feel his fear, and feel that the boy was far more afraid of Hux than he was of Kylo. Before Kylo could wonder whether he ought to be insulted, Hux said, “You do us a great honour, sir. Did you know you're the first member of Lord Ren's family I've ever met in person?”

The boy licked his lips. “Ah, no. I didn't.”

Hux's eyes went to the handcuffs. “And I see you've been treated abysmally. Lord Ren, if you would care to release our guest? I'm sure we can all conduct ourselves like gentlemen.”

Wordlessly, Kylo unfastened the restraints. He stayed within arm's reach of the boy.

“You haven't told me your name.” Hux sat in Kylo's vacated chair, affecting a relaxed posture. Kylo knew it was an affectation. He could sense the tension in Hux as acutely as he felt the boy's terror.

“It's Skywalker, Your Highness. Han Skywalker.”

“An illustrious name. Of course, as Lord Ren's cousin, you are more than welcome here. May I inquire as to your plans?”

“I, um, I want to join you. Your Highness. I want to join the New Empire.”

“I can't imagine your parents would be pleased to hear it.”

“I don't care about them.” Anger flashed across the boy's face. Kylo straightened up and took notice. “I don't,” the boy repeated. “They don't own me. I can do what I want.”

“You will scarcely find an argument here, Mr. Skywalker. But you must realize that, by taking you in, we would invite even further trouble from the Resistance.”

The boy sighed. “I know it's a lot to ask. But if you give me a chance, I promise I won't disappoint you. Please.”

Hux was silent. The moment stretched. Kylo knew Hux well enough to know he was doing it for effect. His decision would have been made as soon as the boy spoke. At last, Hux said, “I'll have my droids prepare you a room.” He sniffed delicately. “And a shower. We can speak more in the morning.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness.” A grin split the boy's face.

When the hospitality droids had ushered him away, Hux looked at Kylo. “I want him next to me at the Celestia Darwent Hux celebrations. “

“You're sure?”

“It's a celebration of family. What better time to show the galaxy that General Skywalker's son has chosen me, just as General Organa's did?”

Kylo bit his lip. “You believe that is a wise course of action?”

“I believe it's a good gamble. And I believe you'll protect me. Just as you always have.” Hux put his arms around Kylo's neck. A familiar look came to his eyes and, just like that, Kylo was twenty-two again and desperate to have him at once. “You woke me up, so you might as well do something about it,” Hux said, as Kylo ignored the pain in his side and lifted him off the ground. It wasn't necessary to say it. It wasn't necessary to say anything, but Hux had always loved to talk.

***

For the first time since the holiday's inception, Emperor Hux would not be giving the Celestia Derwent Hux Day address.

His speech had improved drastically in the months since his stroke, but Kylo knew he was far too vain to speak to his people in anything less than optimal condition.

“Any...way,” Hux stammered, as they dressed. “Brendol...needs...the practice.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kylo replied, lightly, arranging his hair in the mirror. “I plan to live forever.”

But it was true. Prince Brendol was already beloved by the people. It could do no harm for them to see him taking a more serious role in the running of the empire, while Hux and Kylo looked on approvingly.

The name “Han Skywalker” had disappeared quickly. Within a very short span of time, the erstwhile son of Rey and the stormtrooper became Prince Brendol, beloved adopted child of His Imperial Highness and Lord Ren, heir to the New Empire.

Kylo never wanted children. He certainly hadn't thought his life any poorer for not having them, but Brendol's appearance had brought him something he never knew he was missing. Hux was reserved, seeing Brendol purely as an heir to be moulded in his image, but for Kylo, he was more. He was a son.

“When...are...Brendol's children...arriving?” A glimmer of fear crossed Hux's face at the mention of them.

If he had never expected to be a father, then Kylo had certainly never thought to be a grandfather. But so he and Hux were, to Brendol's three little children who were noisy and messy and who often leaped into their grandfathers' arms without warning. More than once, Kylo had wished he could turn back time and show the younger Kylo Ren, the one who had stomped around the Finalizer full of self-importance, an image of himself playing tauntaun with three shrieking children on his back. Kylo smiled just thinking about it.

“Marayna's going to bring them just before the address. She doesn't want them getting bored too soon.”

Hux nodded and allowed his servant to attach the clasp of his robe. Kylo stopped to admire him. Hux's hair was almost entirely grey, and his face was lined. Still, he looked as elegant and imperial as the day they first stood before their nascent empire, Snoke's blood still on their hands.

“We should get married,” Kylo said, impulsively. It had never seemed that important. It wasn't really, but why not do it anyway?

Hux's eyes came up, meeting Kylo's in the mirror. “I...don't know. I...don't want to...rush...into anything. Although,” he continued, before Kylo could even laugh, “I...” He hesitated, his mouth working soundlessly. Kylo waited, holding out a hand for reassurance. Hux ignored it. “I guess I should get there before Ulfort does,” Hux finished, smiling either at his wit or his fluency.

“You're a bastard.” Kylo withdrew his hand. “Anyway, Ulfort's been dead for years.”

“You...know that?” But Hux was teasing him. Kylo stepped away from the mirror. “Then...I...guess...I won.”

I won,” Kylo corrected. “I knew that when I took off my helmet for the first time and you just about came in your pants.”

Hux shook his head, but he leaned in for a kiss. Kylo obliged. We both won, he thought, and that was the truth. They'd won over and over again, like they were charmed. One day, they were going to come to the end of their lucky streak. It was inevitable, but they would reach that end together. Kylo was going to make sure of that.

“Your Imperial Highness? Lord Ren?” A servant in a wig and full formal dress poked her head into the room. “We're ready for you on the balcony.”

Kylo held out an arm, as a show of solidarity and to prevent anyone from seeing the lingering unsteadiness in Hux's step. This time, Hux accepted the offer. “Marriage...” Hux said, as they headed slowly down the hallway. “I...I'll...consider it.” The balcony doors swung open. The roar of the waiting crowd drowned out anything more Hux might have said. Together, they stepped out to face the masses.