Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For every action, the universe counters with an unstoppable, opposing reaction. It's not a course correction, but a natural element of all things. Nothing happens without consequence. What was fated to fall, will fall.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time to rejoin the Force has been overdue for years. Bedridden with blood and immune ailments, the tired master held on to see another Galactic Republic strong day in his hospice room on Coruscant. The Republic—the cause his Padawan, his friend, and other half had died for long ago.

It has been a timeless legend that Anakin Skywalker had died at the hands of the eternally scorned Chancellor Palpatine for the Jedi, for democracy, for the lives of his wife and unborn children. Both of which are young adults now, patiently laboring at either side of his bed. Luke, his once Padawan, calls to the Force for healing, pleasant energies. Leia, his longtime friend and source of wisdom, shares her gift of the Force in her own way. Untrained, but no less powerful and organic.

Padmé stands behind her daughter's un-senator-like crouch. Obi-Wan smiles up to his oldest and dearest friend. She's aged far more gracefully than he. She beams soulfully downward, and Obi-Wan basks in her warm presence for as long as he can.

“Mama, where's Daddy?” asks an infantile voice. It's little Ben. He woke up from his slump on the armchair, his three-year-old body drained from the extended stays at the hospice. Ben cradles his purple tooka doll to his chest, chewing on its pointy ear.

I love you, Ben, says the doll in secret, only for little Ben’s ears. You’ll always have me.

Leia picks up her son to balance him on her knee. “Daddy is working, sweetie,” she coos, kissing his bulbous cheek. Han is off somewhere pushing product, occupied with the rush of his present job. Leia and Han have argued countless times about his habits. He promised things would change when Ben was born, but now it’s been years, and nothing has changed. “Let’s say goodnight to Obi-Wan, okay?”

“Goodnight, Obeen,” says Ben. It’s the last time he’ll say this. Leia kisses Obi-Wan goodnight on his wrinkled hand. Not even all the finest medicines the Jedi can procure can save a human from the inevitable. In her heart, she knows this will be one of their final exchanges.

“Goodnight, Ben,” Obi-Wan smiles. When Leia carts Ben away, his smile wanes to sorrow. A weight sits heavily on his chest, coagulated over his lonely lifetime. He doesn’t have much time.

He takes the hand of his Padawan. There's so much he's been keeping inside, isolated and dormant like a forgotten hermit.

“Luke, Padmé,” he says shakily. He can feel the life draining from him. “For so long, I kept this from you. So long. I'm so sorry,” he mutters, far away.

“Obi-Wan, please. Catch your breath,” Padmé soothes, her cool palm cradling his cheek.

“Anakin died. He died for you and me, for all of us,” the old Jedi master slurs. Luke tells him to calm himself, release his sorrow through the Force. This is not the first time Obi-Wan groaned nonsensically about the loss of his best friend. “He died a hero. He made sure of it. It wasn't supposed to happen the way it had, Luke. He wasn't supposed to die then. I've seen it. I've felt it.”

Luke smiles solemnly, comforting his master with platitudes of understanding. It has been a calm day at the hospice, but often calm days end with this brand of thunder.

But Obi-Wan ignores him. “Anakin let himself die because he knew if he hadn't, he would be the galaxy's greatest undoing. He saved us from the Sith, but he saved him from himself. He was fated to fall, Luke. It was supposed to happen.”

“It didn't,” Luke urges, this brand of Obi-Wan’s torment one of the hardest he's forced to bear witness to. “Anakin died a hero, because he chose the Light,” he reminds him. Oftentimes he has to remind him of the simplest of things.

“You don't understand. It was supposed to happen. The fall of the Republic, the destruction of the Jedi, all of it.”

“How, Master? The past is then, and this is now. How can—”

“It was meant to happen—”

“Obi-Wan, look at me,” Padmé asserts, authority held high in her voice. “The war has been over for ages. The Republic is safe. The Jedi are powerful, reformed anew since we lost Anakin. It's going to be alright.”

Crumpling, Obi-Wan lolls his head towards her warmth. “I'm so sorry, Padmé.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she laments. He's her oldest, dearest friend.

His ancient heart beats steady and solemn. “Ben. It's he who will bring about the dark times.”

Heartbreak wrangles Padmé’s aging features. Ben. Her beautiful grandson. What has Obi-Wan seen to warrant such a tormented thought?

“You see why I kept this from you both, about Anakin’s fall. Luke, you must train Ben. Guide him, watch over him. Make sure he never feels alone. Because if he does—” Obi-Wan staves his words, choked up against the tremendous weight.

“Master, he's just a boy. Barely,” Luke says. “We’re his family. We'll always be on his side. Always. I promise you.”

“Train him,” Obi-Wan breathes. It's time. “Don't let him slip through your fingers as Anakin left mine.”

“I'll train him, Master. Our father will live on through him, like he does in Leia and I.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.”

With that, Obi-Wan parts with his greatest triumphs, his most shameful losses, and reenters the beckoning energy that surrounds, binds, and penetrates all things.

He closes his eyes and takes his mother’s hand. Luke hangs his head, shock, sorrow, and tumultuous relief pouring down in swaths.

--

The funeral pyre is a uniting affair. All sides of the shifting Republic gather as one. Whether it be to celebrate the life of a hero, or to see the end of yet another example of the Republic’s victory pass away. Leia, Luke, and Padmé mourn in silence. Luke and Leia never met their father, but he was enlivened with every story Obi-Wan had told them as children. With Obi-Wan’s passing, some of the final parts of Anakin pass away as well.

Little Ben stands to his mother’s side, chewing on his doll. His mother explained to him that it's okay to be sad and to say goodbye to Obi-Wan. Little Ben stares at Obi-Wan’s burning pyre. He doesn't understand what death is, not really, but he knows his mother and uncle and grandma are sad. He knows what sad is.

He feels sadness all around him. It's his sadness, yes, but the adults in the crowd are even sadder.

Ben chews on his tooka doll, looking around the room. There's a sad, scared blip in the crowd. Ben sneaks away from his mother’s side to see what or who is making the blue, prickly feeling. He sneaks quiet-like, just like how he sneaks up on the bouncing birds back home on Naboo.

There's a boy crying in a way that all the other people aren't crying. This boy is crying because he wants to go somewhere else. Ben doesn't know where, but he knows the boy wants to be anywhere but here. Ben goes closer to the boy. He's a bigger boy than him, but he's crying like a baby. He has hair like the burning fire. His daddy yells at him in a hushed way that should make him behave, but it's clear the boy does not like being here.

Brendol Hux kneels low in front of his sniveling boy. At age seven, Armitage has already attended plenty of his father’s society events and professional meetings, both in public and in secret. But now, in front of countless Republic dignitaries and representatives from militaries from all over the galaxy, Armitage has chosen to have a tantrum like an utter oaf.

“Enough,” he hisses, bruising Armitage’s twiggy arm with his grip. “This stops now.”

Armitage whines, biting through his lip to keep quiet. His reddened eyes keep falling on the pyre. The burning Jedi is clearly upsetting him. Brendol will not stand for this display of weakness.

“It's a pyre. It's not going to hurt you. Enough groveling,” he growls, for his son’s ears only. Several nameless faces shift in concern, but Brendol pays them no mind. “Keep this up and there will be consequences.”

When Armitage quiets but can't help the tears from slipping, Brendol escorts his son even closer to the pyre, right beside the Jedi’s flame-eaten face. The heat is almost unbearable for his own skin. Surely the proximity of the blaze to his son’s will be a severe enough punishment. He bends to Armitage’s ear. “Keep your eyes open. Do not turn away.”

Young Armitage opens his mouth to speak. “Sir—”

“Quiet,” Brendol snaps. A few mourners turn to stare at the spectacle. Brendol doesn't bother throwing them affronted looks. His son has to learn.

Armitage forces his head straight, spine erect, eyes narrowed against the terrifying blaze. He trembles with determination to face his fear and repulsion from the burning man. He tastes the blood on his lip from where he sunk his tiny teeth, but he ignores the burn and the blood and gapes into the licking flames. It’s what his father told him to do. He always follows his father’s orders, even if they are excruciating.

Ben sneaks along the line of the crowd, closer to the fire where the big-but-still-little boy moved. He finally gets his eyes on the other boy, face wet from his tears. The boy’s father is distracted as he’s talking to some of the other big adults. Ben scurries closer. He can feel the fire on his skin, but he isn’t afraid of it like the bigger boy is.

“It’s okay,” whispers Ben once he’s close enough to speak to him, peering upwards. “It’s okay. Obeen is in the Force.”

Confused, Armitage dares look from the fire to the little toddler with a doll. What’s this little boy going on about? His father could be watching him, and he really isn’t willing to risk upsetting his father over a toddler’s ramblings.

Ben tries again. Maybe the bigger boy didn’t hear him. “Pst, ‘cuse me. I said it’s okay.”

“Get away,” snaps Armitage, low enough so his father won’t catch him. But the little boy, a baby really, won’t leave. “Go on. Go to your mother.” Surely this little boy has a mother. Only mothers let their sons play with dolls like the one in his arms. His stepmother tried to give him a doll, once. His father tossed it in their incinerator.

You’re a good boy, Ben, says the doll in secret. You’re a great friend.

“Here. This will make you better,” Ben says, shoving the chewed doll into the tall boy’s stomach. His doll makes him feel better when he misses Daddy. But the boy doesn’t seem to understand that for the doll to work, he has to hug it. He proceeds to show the boy how to hold it in his little arms, squeezing it tight. “Like this.”

“Just go, brat.”

“No, I’m Ben.” He squeezes the doll again and shoves it to the taller boy’s tummy. “You have to. It helps.”

Armitage helplessly looks back to his father, who still hasn’t caught him talking to this little toddler. “Give it here,” he sighs. The stupid baby boy smiles from ear to ridiculously proportioned ear and hands it over. Armitage manages to squeeze the doll to Ben’s liking, damp with who knows what, and shoves it back to the boy.

Brendol is at his son’s side in an instant. “What is this?” he growls. Armitage is well aware of his father’s temper. It plagues him in his daily life, in his dreams and nightmares.

“This little baby dropped his toy. I was giving it back to him.”

Ben’s not a baby. He may cry sometimes but he’s a big boy. He can use the ‘fresher all by himself. At least, half the time. And he makes things for his mama and she tells him how talented he is. Daddy gives him big boy toys when he comes back from his jobs, like play blasters that he can only use with his Mama’s supervision, but that’s just because she has to watch his form.

Brendol glowers as Armitage holds up the doll for the toddler to take. His son stands to attention once the toddler has the chew toy in his possession, who bids his son goodbye with a little wave. Brendol barely contains his grimace of distaste at how freely the child is permitted to roam around.

“I look forward to the day when I realize you aren’t a complete and utter waste of my time,” Brendol says dispassionately to his son once they’re alone before the fluttering pyre. Armitage dares not wilt, dares not allow the tears to fall.

On the other side of the pyre, Ben finds his mother’s hand. She picks him up and holds him close to her bosom. “Everything alright, dear? I lost you there for a second.”

Ben nods, closing his eyes. “Sleepy,” he mumbles. He’s not that sleepy. Sometimes he lies so he can get carried. He’s not a baby, but he likes for Mama to carry him. And sometimes while he’s being carried, he falls asleep anyway. Like now.

Luke takes a heavy breath, bowing his head. He thinks of when he spent the most time with his master. He knew of Obi-Wan while growing up on Naboo, but didn’t grow close until he decided he wanted to follow in Anakin’s steps like they always planned for him, and train in the ways of the Jedi. Obi-Wan was like a father to him.

Over the years under Obi-Wan’s wing, Luke learned many things about the man, his strengths, his weaknesses, and where the two coincided. Obi-Wan was supportive. He saw training Luke was an extension of the vow to train Anakin he made to Qui-Gon Jinn. Despite the Jedi’s uncertainty with training the son of Skywalker, they managed to be convinced that Luke’s path was in their allegiance.

A few bodies down is their mother, who has far more personal memories with Obi-Wan. She dabs her eyes with a silken cloth in quiet mourning. Luke can sense his mother’s grief. It’s an age-old grief, much like her grief for her departed husband. She knew Obi-Wan since she was a teenager. It will be hard to let him go, after so many years, after everything they’ve been together as the very oldest of friends.

Obi-Wan will be missed. The galaxy is already darker without him. It’s already darker with the burden Obi-Wan saddled on him, that Ben will one-day complete Anakin’s fall. Little Ben is such a sweet and thoughtful boy. He doesn’t deserve to be treated differently because of his allegedly doomed bloodline. Luke passes a meaningful look to his sister. She doesn’t deserve the burden either.

“You promised you wouldn’t keep things from me,” Leia says, low so as to not wake her son. Luke is holding onto something. She can read him like the crispest Nabooian manuscript.

“It’s nothing.” Luke doesn’t even know why he bothers to lie. She eyes him like she’s thinking the same thing. He caves, boring into the pyre. “Before Obi-Wan passed, he told me something. I should have told you right away, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

“What is it?” she asks. Ben drools on her formal gown, his little teeth poking out from his chubby cheeked mouth.

“Obi-Wan said Anakin was gonna fall to the dark side. That the only thing that could stop him from doing so is his own death. I think he was insinuating Anakin killed himself, but I don’t—none of that matters now. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Then what’s that look for?” she asks, referring to Luke’s parsec-long stare.

He waits out these final moments of oblivious bliss. “He said that there was something far more powerful at play, that Anakin’s fall hadn’t been thwarted.” He swallows, tearing up. “He told me that just because the shroud of the dark side hadn’t fallen then, it only means the fall is inevitable. That a carrier of Anakin’s bloodline—”

“Luke,” Leia says, stern and resilient. “I know.”

“You what?”

“I know. I’ve always known from the second I felt Ben come to life. I knew there was a chance I could lose him. Sometimes I get so sick with fear, I feel like I’m drowning in it. But I can’t let it ruin me, or him. There’s nothing that could keep me from loving this little boy.”

Luke flinches, ashamed he could ever think Leia would let this get in the way of loving her son. “We’ll stick together like we always do. We’ll keep a close eye on things. I’m on your side, no matter what. You know that.” They share watery smiles. They are each other’s comfort. “And Han is on our side, too. If he can manage to make it home in one piece,” he jibes.

Han Solo, Ben’s father. She’d given Ben his father’s surname, as if it could somehow make up for the fact Han hasn’t given them much in the way of a life together. Leia will always love Han, but he wasn’t built to settle. She’s never lived in want of anything material, and neither has Ben, back home on Naboo. But one cannot put a price on a father. Han has a lot of growing up to do. Leia only hopes that he doesn’t decide to do it after Ben does.

In another life, Han would have shared more of his time with them. Perhaps a life where they met in the middle of a war they both believed in, something that laid a structured, unbreakable foundation. But in this life, Leia met Han as a hormonal teenager caught in his scoundrel charm while on leave in Corellia while she was still getting her education on Alderaan. Han had gotten them into some trouble with one of the many gangs after his skin. Unfortunately for Padmé, Leia enjoyed every minute of it. Han became a thorn in Padmé’s side for years after that, as Leia and Han became too hardheaded to ever give up on each other. Consequently, Luke’s friendship with Han had come after he and Leia had saved Han from capture on the dust bucket of Tatooine. The rest is, unfortunately, history.

“Han is Han,” Leia groans. “There’s no changing that man.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope he decides to cancel his next job. For Ben’s sake. Maybe you can convince Han to stay for more than a week this time. Or, hell, then there’s marriage, so he can finally settle and doesn’t have to keep tripping over those halfwit jobs to survive.”

Leia grimaces. Not even she can imagine marrying Han. It’s not something she ever wanted. Not yet, anyway. “Yeah, right. He wishes.”

Luke laughs, odd and striking against the backdrop of the funeral. Leia loves the fresh noise. She beams down to her slumbering baby boy. Ben’s already growing so fast. Soon he’ll be too big to carry, so she indulges in these precious moments now, while he’s young and untouchable by the burdens of reality’s impending taint. 

Chapter Text

Ben completes his training sprints as per Master Luke’s request. He's bone tired and calls to the Force to aid his exhausted muscles. At seven years old, Ben is far advanced in the physical demands of his Padawan training, more so than the other students his age. He's tall for his age and sharp as a vibroblade. There is not a thing that could keep him from knighthood, apart from his un-Jedi-like overconfidence.

“I already feel stronger. Like I could take on any foe,” Ben grins up to his master, all teeth. Growing up between the Jedi Temple and on his home back on Naboo has been a little stressful at times, but he knows where his loyalties lie. As his mother says, he's special. He's what connects the Republic with the Jedi Order.

“We don't train for battle. We train for preventing battle,” Luke tells his Padawan. Much to the Jedi Council’s disparagement, Ben’s been an adequate student. A bit overzealous at times but dispassion never got anything done in his eyes. It's been a new Jedi Order, since the Republic became infected by the Sith. Had it not been for Anakin, there’s no telling how far the Jedi would have fallen.

“Same difference, Master.” Ben’s just happy to complete his warm ups so they can get to the good stuff. Lightsaber sparring.

Luke laughs and shakes his head at his nephew's spirit. Ben has always been such a determined, social child. Becoming a Jedi and leading a life of discipline was undoubtedly his path. Ben has Leia’s heart and strength, Han’s valor and stubbornness. He only wishes Han made more time with the kid when he was on leave on Naboo.

Ben practices his katas until he thinks he’s perfected it, at least for the day. Luke has always been a hands-on instructor and spars with Ben until they sweat through their shirts. It's hours before they take a break.

“We've got a meeting with the Council tonight. Be sure to shower and stretch before then,” Luke tells his Padawan.

“They finally gonna kick me out?”

“I told you, I don't like that joke,” Luke sighs. To say they've got a strained relationship with the Jedi Council is an understatement. Luke accepted long ago he and Ben will always face the most deliberate scrutiny because of their unique, familial bond.

Over the decades the Jedi have relaxed their attachment rules, but not by much. It's still forbidden to regularly perform in any sort of union that will detract from Jedi duties, but that doesn't stop some from, as Leia would say, ‘shamelessly hooking up.’ Of course, a Jedi’s lifestyle and location are either constantly changing or constantly within the walls of the Temple, so the only person a Jedi can have a relationship with is another Jedi. Though it's highly discouraged that a Jedi cohort with members of structures like the Senate and the Republic’s navy, due to conflicting interests.

“Master, they don't like us. It's kind of annoying how obvious they are about it,” Ben dismisses, stretching out over the mats. “Sometimes I think they'd like us better if we split up, y’know? Maybe Master Mara Jade can take over. You two are good pals.”

“You aren't getting away from me this easily, little guy,” Luke snorts. “We have what all the other masters and Padawan don't.”

“Which is…?”

“Family, of course. We're meant to stick together. It's only made us stronger. It's what Anakin would have wanted.”

Ben nods, accepting his master’s wisdom, as usual. Sometimes family doesn't stick together. Take his dad, for example. As his mom had always said, ‘there's no force in the universe that can tether Han Solo down.’

Not that it's a bad thing. Ben gets it. Han Solo was meant for the stars above, not the ground below. It's always been the truth, just as it's been the truth that Anakin Skywalker died a hero, for the love of his life, for his unborn children, for the good of the Republic, and for the Jedi. Ben’s only wish is to be as great of a Jedi as his grandfather was and to live up to his true virtue and heroism.

Luke ruffles his nephew's ear-length hair, void of any traditional hairstyles of the past. For good reason, because the kid’s got some otherworldly ears. “Shower, then meet me at nineteen-hundred hours outside the Council chambers.”

“Got it, Master.”

Later that night, Luke and Ben wait their next assignment before the three present members of the Jedi Council: Master Windu, far too old to be anywhere but the Temple, and Masters Adi Gallia and Shaak Ti, still limber for their nonhuman ages. Ben and Luke bow in veneration, awaiting their orders.

“The Arkanis system is having a ceremony for the lawful transfer of power into a military state, and the lesser, opposing parties have requested we send a Jedi to oversee the negotiations,” Shaak Ti explains. “Myself and the other present Council members thought it would be wise to send our best negotiator.”

Luke learned everything he knew from two of the galaxy's finest negotiators, his since passed Master Kenobi and his happily retired mother, therefore he is the Council’s go-to diplomat. It's a strength both himself and his senator sister share. It’s also a strength that his Padawan does not share. Everyone in the room knows this, for Ben’s disappointment with getting yet another diplomatic mission radiates off him in unkempt waves.

“Mind your feelings, young Solo,” Master Windu says, still fierce even in his advanced age. “You will respect the Council’s decision.”

Solo. Only Master Windu calls him Solo. His proper name is Skywalker-Solo. Maybe one-day Master Windu will remember.

“I apologize on behalf of Ben. He's just got a wild imagination and is eager to live out more adventure than politics,” Luke smiles, trying to ease the tension.

Master Windu taps his twin metal thumbs against the armrests of his chair. He lost his hands that night Anakin destroyed the last remaining Sith Lord. Ben always thought his metal hands were cool, like a battle droid’s, but he'd never tell Master Windu that. Luke, however, had always regarded Windu’s hands as a reminder of how close his father got to falling, for it’s no secret Anakin was the one who severed them.

“I expect a full report in four days. You may leave for the system immediately.” With that, the two Skywalkers are dismissed.

--

Ben might fall asleep from how boring a ‘transfer of power’ really is. The phrase is incredibly misleading. All they are doing is signing documents on screen after screen, speaking into unseen microphones about what the new government can and can't do. Blah, blah, blah. If Master Luke ever heard his thoughts, he'd surely be in a world of hurt.

There's a table of sturdy, middle-aged men on one side in strange, minimalistic military garb, and a collection of men, women, and xenos on the other in diverse diplomatic dress. It's clear the middle-aged men are the ones gaining the power, from their smugness and superiority boasting into the room, and the people on other side of the table bleeding uncertainty and fear. Master Luke seems to pick up on the injustices, but he tells Ben with his eyes that they're just here to observe.

Whatever. Ben’s sure that there's a good reason for Arkanis’s change. If the galaxy can come together and eradicate the Trade Federation’s corruption and the Sith’s threat entirely, then certainly peace can be maintained.

After the ceremony is a banquet. During these banquets, Ben and his master normally stand off to the side and take home their food afterwards. So for now, Ben oversees all the pleasant faced politicians dine on the cultural foods of the planet. His stomach rumbles, which his keen master somehow senses. Luke smiles and tells them he can grab a plate and eat at the table in the corner. Times like these, Ben’s grateful his uncle is training him.

Ben makes himself a small plate sampling most of the main food groups, including dessert. He gets lost in how scrumptious everything is, that by the time he looks up from his cleaned plate, Master Luke is calmly communicating with a group of disgruntled men. Ben easily recognizes the angriest and most vocal one as one of the large military men from the negotiations. He steps up to his master’s side to catch the middle of the man’s argument.

“It's the liberalists. They must have done something to him. Tired losers, is what they are,” the man grovels. For how serious this all sounds, he just seems to be annoyed. At least to Ben, anyway.

“Commandant Hux, I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure your son is returned to you safely,” Luke urges, readying a plan. They'll have to activate the planet’s rudimentary defense shields to flag any ship for search, unsanctioned or otherwise. If the Commandant’s son truly has been kidnapped, the culprit will have to get past the entirety of the Arkanian military.

“The boy is an easy target. Barely a hundred pounds, easily manipulated. He's been nothing but trouble since he day he was born,” the Commandant grumbles.

Luke needs a description, ignoring his unease towards the Commandant’s priorities. “How old is he? What's he look like?”

The Commandant explains his son in the most unflattering way. Thin, pale, twelve years old who ‘certainly wouldn't be able to defend himself despite all the training he paid for.’ Ben frowns, imagining someone weak and useless. Ben finds it kind of sad how the commandant has already introduced his son to scrutiny before Ben even met him.

“We'll be on top of this. You have my word,” Luke promises, ever the problem solver.

The hunt for the Commandant’s son turns out to be fruitless. The military has been searching every freighter, every public space and even some of the private ones, but to no avail. It's like the boy vanished into thin air. Ben has ample time to ponder what may have happened to him since Master Luke decided he should turn in for the night in one of the government building's visitor lodges, while he goes out to the checkpoint station in the higher atmosphere for the night. Master Luke claimed it's too dangerous for him to be up there, and his mother would never forgive him if anything happened to her boy. Now that's an excuse Ben is absolutely, positively tired of hearing.

Ben yawns up at the ever-present stars above. If he squints, he likes to imagine he can see the Millennium Falcon zoom past, his father and Chewie raiding every end of the galaxy for trash and treasure. His father took him on the Falcon a few times to show off his cool maneuvers. One day he'd like to go on a real adventure with him.

One of the stars falls like a burning meteorite. Ben pulls out his quadnocs. It's a crashing ship! Alarmed, Ben reaches for his lightsaber. When activated, it glows blue like Master Obi-Wan’s had, just like his grandfather's. Master Luke says he shouldn't hope he has to use it, but often Ben can't help but hope. Like now.

He debates over several things. First and foremost, he could ignore the crash. Secondly, he could wait until Master Luke comes back in the waking morning and get his opinion on the crash. Thirdly, he could call for anyone to help. But all of those seem time consuming. What if whoever crashed needs help now?

Hoping he's made the right call, Ben scampers from his lodging room and commandeers a small speeder outside the main door of the citadel using one of the many lifting techniques his father told him about. It's basically snatching and grabbing because ‘people who pilot those high-end piece of junk speeders never bother with their safety alarms, and the trick to not getting caught is to dump the thing as soon as you're clear.’ He doesn't plan on dumping this person's speeder, but he's convinced they'll understand why he snatched it when he explains it was an emergency.

Zooming through Arkanis’s changing climate and grimacing against the rain that formed out of nowhere, Ben focuses on the crash site. It can't be too far. He swears it's just beyond the grassy plane.

The rain picks up by the time he's found the smoking wreckage. The ship is not any design he's familiar with. It looks like an orb bracketed by two large vertical wings. The only plausible place for a passenger is inside the orb. But Ben has no idea how to open the thing.

Wait. Of course he can open it. He has a lightsaber! Grinning in excitement, Ben activates his lightsaber, marveling at the sharp hisses it makes as the rain pellets the blue plasma. This is the first time he's ever used his lightsaber on a mission. He better be careful.

Focusing on his task, Ben fashions a peephole with the tip of his blade. He cringes at the abrupt sound and tries to be patient so he doesn't injure himself or whoever is inside. He pulls away the blade once he's poked through a good enough amount, and peers inside.

All he can make out is an empty chair, handles, lights, buttons, and the smell of singed metal. There may be a person on the opposite chair, but he isn't sure. Confident he can cut a hole big enough to crawl inside without dismembering anyone, Ben painstakingly crafts an entryway. The metal gives, and he's in.

“Hello? This is the Jedi,” Ben grins, heart beating out of his chest and he squeezes himself in the small space. “I'm here to rescue you!”

A groan startles him. Thank the maker. Whoever this is is still alive. Ben clamors for the passenger, and gasps. Red hair strewn over a pale, dazed, half-awake face. It’s the Commandant’s son. It has to be!

Ben palms the boy’s face, jumping like a lunatic when the boy startles and slaps his hand away. But the boy doesn’t appear angry, only afraid.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Your spaceship crashed,” Ben explains. “I came here to help.”

The other boy regards him, incredulity bleeding from his glare. There’s a bit of scuffing on his forehead under his bangs. It looks like it hurts. Still, the boy hasn’t said anything. Maybe he doesn’t understand him.

“Do you not speak Basic?” Ben asks innocently. “You’re Commandant Hux’s son, aren’t you?”

But this only seems to upset the boy further. The boy pouts. Ben, bizarrely, finds his pout sort of endearing. Maybe even cute.

Ben frowns, confused by not only the quiet, withdrawn spaceship crash survivor, but by his own thoughts as well. He’s never really found anyone cute before, and it doesn’t make sense that this would happen for the first time seeing another boy, not that much older than him.

Come to think of it, he isn’t even sure if this passenger is a boy, let alone the Commandant’s son. He has big eyes and soft looking hair, big, frowny lips and is narrow in the shoulders. And he’s cute. Boys like him don’t really find other boys cute. At least, not Jedi boys.

“Are you a boy or a girl?” Ben asks. Because there’s only one way to find out. Another way he could find out is to check for himself, but that would be incredibly rude of him.

The passenger glares hotly. “Get the hell out of my ship, brat,” are the first words the boy says to him.

“Jeez, sorry,” Ben groans. “So, you do understand me.”

“Of course I understand you. Do you understand me? Get the hell out.”

“You’re injured. I can call someone to help.” Even if this boy is being uncooperative and clearly dislikes him, he should get his injuries checked.

Ignoring him, the other boy fumbles with his controls, to no avail. One of his readings state something unsatisfactory and he whips around to investigate. He growls at the state of the port side. “What did you do to my ship?” he sneers to Ben, angry tears in his eyes.

Ben flushes in contempt. “I thought you were dying, so I cut a hole with my lightsaber. Maybe I should have let you just explode in your stupid ship.”

“This ship is not stupid. It's a state of the art TIE fighter.”

“Never heard of it. Also, you managed to crash it. Some ship you got. Good luck getting out of here,” Ben snaps, overcome with anger for the ungrateful boy. Let him explode. See if he cares! Ben begins to crawl out. He should have never tried to rescue anyone, regardless of how important they are to Commandant Hux and his mission. Some people just aren't worth his time.

The boy mutters obscenities to himself as Ben abandons him. He struggles to be freed from his straps but the clasps sound jammed. Ben halts, and sighs. Master Luke told him once that some life forms that have no interest in being saved are the ones that often need it the most.

Ignoring the boy’s protests, Ben activates his lightsaber and cautiously nips into the strap.

“Careful!” snaps the boy.

“Shut up and stop moving.” Something about this boy makes him so angry.

After several minutes of maneuvering, Ben manages to get the boy loose and tugs his skinny arm out of the carved port, frowning along with the boy’s unencumbered litany of gripes.

Once they’re safe and outside the groaning fighter, Ben jabs at the boy’s shoulder. “Do you ever shut up? I’m beginning to miss the moments I thought you were a mute.”

“I’m beginning to miss being unconscious with a concussion.”

The TIE fighter’s massive explosion is barely enough to shut them up. Ben stumbles face first into the mud. The older boy is in a similar wrecked state. He sloughs through the filth on his grimacing face.

“Thanks for that!” the boy snaps, sounding anything but grateful.

“I just saved your life—so, you’re welcome!” All he wants to do is shove this boy back to his father and be done with this garbage mission.

“I had everything under control.”

“Will you just give it up? Get on my speeder. I’m taking you back to your father,” Ben orders. He’s a Jedi! In training, but a Jedi by definition. He’s an authority figure.

At the mention of his father, the boy shuts down, looking as if Ben had slapped him. Only a stone’s throw from the simmering wreckage, he slumps in the mud, a great sadness sinking his otherworldly features. Ben softens a bit. He looks guilty, as if being alive is where he went wrong.

“What were you doing in that ship, anyway?” Ben asks after a sullen pause.

The boy ignores him. He uses quietness like a security blanket.

“What’s your name?” He doesn’t even know the boy’s name. The Commandant hadn’t even used his name. His descriptors were primarily physical in the least flattering ways. If Ben were to describe him, he’d use words like redhead, freckled, big-green-eyes. And kind of girl shaped.

“Hux.”

Ben makes a face. His father’s surname is Hux. “So your parents named you ‘Hux Hux’? They must really hate you.”

“It’s just me and my father. And my mother named me Armitage, but I go by Hux. It would suit you well to use it,” he growls, mud from his face melting away in the rain.

It’s just Hux and his father, but his mother was the one to name him. Interesting enough, but also sad. Hux is a sad life form.

“So what were you doing, Hux?” Ben asks again, allowing Hux to win his name game.

Hux glares at the mud on his once pristine uniform. “I was just practicing. Father never lets me practice since I was kidnapped last year.”

Armitage Hux has always been a skilled liar. He learned from the best. He inherited his father’s silver tongue as well as his red hair. He maintains his lies until there isn’t a doubt in his mind his fabrication is the truth.

A year ago, when he and his father had moved back to Arkanis after a ten month long military deployment, he’d attempted to flee from his duties in a foolish, childlike attempt to escape. He didn't want to be a part of his father’s project anymore. He grew so sick of constantly moving and being forced into his father’s lifestyle that he stole a freighter and aimed for Arkanis’s higher atmosphere.

Unfortunately in his brashness, he crash landed in a wreck much like this one, only his father found him bruised and battered. Young Armitage Hux was far too terrified of his father, so he blamed one of his father’s many enemies and claimed he was kidnapped and the criminals split before they could be sought out. If Brendol Hux ever suspected his son had lied, he showed it through perpetually bringing up the incident as a learning experience for them. Armitage’s physical and alleged mental inferiority was the lesson upheld.

“You don't have to lie. I won't tell on you,” Ben says after a moment.

“What do you know about lying?”

“I know you weren't practicing.”

Hux’s frown gets impossibly deeper. “Then what was I doing?”

Ben considers this. “Maybe you were running away.”

Hux stands and nearly trips over Ben to march for Ben’s stolen speeder.

“Like right now,” Ben jeers.

Hux ignores him, fumbling with the speeder’s controls. It starts up and Ben scrambles to catch up. Hux might actually leave him here.

“Are you going back?” Ben asks him, relieved when Hux doesn’t shove him out of the seat behind him.

“It’s my place to go back,” is all Hux says. Ben’s never heard a more defeated defense. It’s like Hux knows and believes what he’s saying but would do anything to change it.

The ride back to the citadel is quick and painful from Hux’s speed and the battering rain. Ben doesn’t complain. Hux is taking most of the water, anyway. They pull up to the citadel in the rain engorged speeder. With all the rain this planet endures, one would think uncovered speeders would be less popular.

Ben is the first off the speeder. Let Hux worry about the speeders owner. He only had to save the Commandant’s son and nothing else.

“Ben!” Master Luke shouts from the base of the structure. “You were supposed to wait for me to return.”

“You're here now,” Ben defends. Proudly, Ben holds up a hand, jabbing a thumb behind him. “Look. I rescued the Commandant’s son.”

“I only left the space station when they told me you escaped,” Luke complains. Neither of them resemble Jedi in this moment.

“We’re helpers, not prisoners. Did you hear what I said? Look, it's the son! Good as new. Barely a scratch.”

Luke sighs, then rights himself. Ben’s tale has proven to be accurate. He rushes to the boy’s side. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Master Jedi,” Hux asserts, tired shoulders poised at attention. Ben's remarkably sloppy. He eyes Ben’s master. He can see where the little twerp gets his inspiration for sloppiness. “Ben, thank you for your help,” he nods, prim and clinical.

Ben mutters a ‘you're welcome,’ glaring with annoyance at Hux’s obvious disrespect for him. Hux’s arrogance is by far his most unflattering feature.

Which is why it perturbs Ben so much when Hux’s act drops when heavy footfalls alert them of a new presence in the covered porch. of nowhere. Hux looks as if he'd rather be dead than be here at this spot, but stands to face what’s next for him.

The Commandant squanders Hux’s victory lap with an abrasive greeting in the form of: “Are you injured?”

“No, Sir.”

Ben frowns. ‘Sir?’ He never calls his father Sir.

“What happened?”

Young Armitage Hux is not yet a skilled liar. Still, he tries. “I was practicing my piloting. I know I should have used the flight simulators but after we won the seat in our congress, I was feeling brash. I apologize.”

Brendol Hux stares down his nose at his son. “Did you crash it?”

Armitage Hux knows what’s coming. “Yes, Sir.”

The only respectable part of Armitage’s delivery is his ability to lie has improved tremendously; Brendol nearly believed him. As Armitage’s unspoken reward, Brendol commits to the story and concocts a fitting punishment. “The skies are far too dangerous for an amateur pilot such as yourself, Armitage,” Brendol says. “If anything had happened to you, I’d have no one to remind me of your late mother.” Coming from any other normal parent, the comment would be interpreted as loving. However, Brendol spits it like an insult, as if being like his mother is his worst attribute.

“Go on,” Brendol encourages. “Tell the Jedi you’re sorry for wasting their time because of your incompetence.”

Armitage Hux looks up to Luke, blinks once and glares at Ben, who’s staring dumbly at the perverse interaction. “I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Hux enunciates, wanting nothing more than to take out his grief with his fist and Ben’s piteous face.

The apology hardly satisfies Brendol. “And? Have you forgotten already, boy?”

“Sorry for wasting your time because of my incompetence,” Hux grates. Ben wanes. He’s sickened to his stomach at how Hux’s father is treating him. The Commandant leads his son inside with a firm grip to his flimsy shoulder and wishes the Jedi a safe trip home.

At their retreat, Ben looks up to Master Luke’s height. Clearly there’s something wrong with this. But Master Luke shakes his head. “Time to return to Coruscant.”

Ben peers through the poles of the citadel where the Commandant is shoving his son. He wishes Hux would turn around, glare at him again, do anything other than submissively follow his father.

Moments like these, Ben’s lucky to not have an overbearing father like the Commandant.

Chapter Text

Ben welcomes his mother with a warm hug and kiss. Leia’s always glad to see Ben on the family home on Naboo. The Nabooian sun always brings out the warm brown in his otherwise dark hair. He looks more like his father as the years pass. At nine years old, Ben is growing nonstop. He's already at her shoulders.

“Missed you, Ma,” Ben says into her shoulder.

“I missed you too, dear.”

“How's Master Jade?”

“She'll be happier now the you and Luke are home safe,” Leia smiles.

Luke steps off their shuttle from Coruscant. He embraces and kisses his sister. “We didn't think we'd make it in time.” Of course, the Jedi Council would give them a mandatory mission halfway across the galaxy on the day Mara Jade is expected to deliver their child.

“She's doing well. The medidroids have estimated she'll be in labor for a few hours until the baby's ready to come.”

Luke breathes a sigh of relief. He could hardly concentrate on the mission knowing Mara was due in a matter of days. “The Council’s only given us a few days,” he complains to Leia as they rush inside the immaculate family home from their private landing pad. “They've never been on our family’s side. You'd think after what our father sacrificed—”

“Luke. We can discuss the shortcomings of the Jedi Order later. You're about to be a father,” Leia smiles. Mara’s in the room just around the corner.

Months ago, after Mara came forward to both Luke, her present fling, and the Jedi Council about her pregnancy, Luke had been terrified of bringing another Skywalker into the galaxy. But Mara was adamant his worry was misplaced, that their child would be a servant of the Light. Eventually, Luke convinced her to have their child on Naboo. He felt safer that the home he grew and frequented during his training under Obi-Wan would be where their daughter entered the galaxy.

The room Mara’s filled with her groaning is furnished with the best medical droids and equipment Padmé could get her hands on. At Mara’s side, Padmé encourages her to breathe and pace herself, and to listen to the commands of the droids.

“Luke!” Mara exclaims between gasps. “Ben,” she adds. “You made it. I was beginning to think you had other plans.”

“Wouldn't miss it, not for the world,” Luke promises. As if Mara had been waiting to see Luke’s face before crowning, the medidroid alerts the room that she's about to give birth, and that she should push.

Leia tells a flustered and fascinated Ben to wait outside with Threepio. Ben listens good-naturedly to Threepio’s musical harping at all the shouts and groans coming from the sealed birthing room. He sits against the wall, focusing on the writhing Force. The galaxy is preparing for a new life, a powerful one. After an hour or so, Mara’s yelling stops, and the Force shines bright with the new light. The baby is here.

Ben wrings his palms in anticipation. Only a few minutes pass until his mother quietly opens the door.

Leia warms at her son’s eagerness to meet his cousin. “She's here. Come meet her.”

Ben shuffles into the room. Master Mara Jade is cradling a small bundle in her arms, her sweat matted red hair in haphazard tangles. He's never felt another's happiness like hers.

“The Council’s gonna be so mad,” Ben says tactlessly. Though the Council is well aware of Mara and Luke’s conception and have even granted them leave for the baby’s birth, it’s clear to Ben that they may have had second thoughts at the little baby’s sheer power. Her Light. He's immediately hit with embarrassment by the comment, but Mara and Luke’s laughter shakes it loose. Ben's never felt more at home.

“Come, Ben. Meet Rey.” Mara and Luke exchange excited grins at the name. It's a name that came to them in joint meditation. Rey, their royal light.

Tentatively, Ben peers into the bundle, minding his grandmother's space. He's always so respectful of his grandmother, so he yelps when his grandmother tugs him onto her knee to her a better view at the new addition to the family.

Rey’s eyes are too fresh to properly see, but she wails and coos at the new faces, ones she'll grow to know and love. Ben grins at Rey’s little movements. He supposes this is his chance to try out being a big brother.

Little Rey will need to be protected. Ben's seen the dangers the galaxy's had to offer. Sometimes people suffer, hearts are broken. Sometimes parents treat their kid like garbage. Like Armitage Hux and his father. Thinking of that miserable little Hux boy always makes his heart cold and sad.

He should count himself lucky. His dad may not be around much, but at least he never laid a hand on him or called him demeaning names.

“Where's Dad?” Ben asks his mom. Though he knows the answer. For some morbid reason, he wants to highlight his absence.

Leia wilts, as if ashamed. The look makes Ben wish he hadn't brought it up. “He's planning to visit later this month. Your father's caught up in his work, you know that.”

“Seems like a pretty important day to not even be here.” His mother is always making excuses.

“Ben—”

“It's alright,” Mara interjects. She knows Han. His work is important to him, just like hers. Luke only has a few days of leave with Ben here, then it's off to the Temple to resume Ben’s training. The Council has given her about four standard months of leave, an incredibly generous offer, but they want Mara in pique physical and emotional condition before she returns. They've clearly never been fond of Skywalkers.

Ben softens in Mara and Rey’s presences. He shouldn't be complaining. Master Mara just had a baby. This is supposed to be a happy day. Besides, his dad was there when he was born. And when his dad does come home, he always totes presents from his adventures. He really shouldn't be ungrateful.

Still, the contempt for his father’s lifestyle only grows as his shortcomings become more and more apparent. Rey and Mara are family now. His dad should be supportive.

It's Grandmother's turn to hold her granddaughter. Ben eases away, giving them space.

Mara and Luke beam at Grandmother’s awe. Rey’s parents already love her so much. Ben tries not to be envious. Envy is not the way of the Jedi.

Ben and his master stay at the family home for five days, watching and interacting with Rey, ogling her fiery Force signature. She'll no doubt be a powerful Jedi. Ben enjoys the vacation, spending time with his mother and his new cousin, staring up at the stars in hopes that the Millennium Falcon will greet them with its majestic drone. The five days pass and the Council demands they return. Master Windu informs them their immediate presence in Council chambers is not optional.

Little Rey is in her crib while Mara discusses their living arrangements for the next few months. Ben uses this time to say goodbye to his cousin, leaving her with some special promises.

“I love you, Rey,” he smiles. She blinks her wide eyes, gurgling in acknowledgement. “Your parents love you very much. I wish we could spend more time together. But we’ll have more time in the future to be pals. I'll teach you all kinds of things. I'll be like, your big brother. I'll make sure to always be there for you, no matter what.” Ben frowns, wishing someone upheld that vow to him.

Ben kisses Rey’s little forehead. “May the Force be with you,” he says to her. She opens her puffy newborn eyes and pokes a tiny finger at his funny nose. He smiles. She's really something.

That same evening, now on Coruscant, Ben finds solace in releasing his nerves into the Force. He often gets sick to his stomach before a meeting with the Jedi Council, even with Master Luke at his side.

Luke sends a quick holo to Mara and Rey, promising to be home again soon. Ben smiles sadly. Luke’s already a much better father than his. He's always seen Master Luke as a paternal figure, but he'll always be his teacher. There are some things in Ben’s life that he can't replace, as much as he'd like to.

“You may enter,” Master Windu says once the door slides open. The Council’s doors are often closed, obscured from prying eyes.

In tandem with his master, Ben approaches the assortment of present Jedi. Master Shaak Ti is the only member absent.

“I hope you both enjoyed your leave,” Master Windu says. “The Council shows its support to the new addition of your family. I felt the Force welcome your child's presence. The Republic will be stronger now that you and Master Jade have brought along a new generation of Skywalkers.”

It's not news Master Windu sees him in a foul light because of his father. Ben tries so hard not to let Master Windu’s insult affect him. Master Windu calls him Solo, but he's not just a Solo. He's a Skywalker, too and is every bit of worthy of the name as his little cousin.

“I wish leave could have been a bit longer, but I am infinitely grateful you gave Mara such a generous leave of absence.”

Master Windu would have smiled if he were even capable of pushing past his frown lines. “I wish we could have, as well. But you are valuable here, our chief negotiator.”

Luke nods. Times like these, he wishes he weren't. It's a selfish, unJedi-like thought. “And Ben needs to attend another language class soon. I want to push him in strengthening his diplomacy skills this year.”

“Young Solo does have plenty of room for improvement.”

Ben flares with anger at the comment, which does not go unnoticed by Master Windu. “We all have room for improvement, Padawan,” he says incredulously.

“I know. I'm sorry, but it's not—I didn't get—”

“Mind your feelings.”

Ben breathes, dispelling his anger into the Force. He wishes he could get rid of it all.

“It's his name. Master Windu, are you able to refrain from using his surname?” Luke interjects.

Master Windu looks as if he might burst. Silence yawns endlessly until Windu speaks with finality. “Padawan, you are dismissed. Master Luke, please stay.”

Like the room’s on fire, Ben hurries outside. He should have tempered himself more, been a better Jedi. The last thing he needed was to flake in front of Master Windu.

Luke holds Master Windu’s gaze. “I know I speak for all of us when I say you and your Padawan have gotten away with too damn much,” Windu says, the curse so foreign Luke has to school away a smirk.

“Ben's got a lot to learn. I'm fully devoted to molding him into knighthood. Despite his...demeanor.” Luke finds better phrasing. “He's a good kid. But he's a kid. I don't want you to forget that.”

“Most kids don't fume at being called their given name.”

“You know what kind of man his father is. It's just a...sensitive subject.”

Windu stares condemningly. “Jedi aren't supposed to have sensitive subjects.”

“Aren't they?” Luke challenges. He's tired of the Council’s unfair judgement cast on Ben.

“I should have split you both up.”

“Leia wouldn't have allowed that.”

As if Windu can sense his precise thoughts, he softens. “We are hard on you both because we hold you to a higher standard than most Jedi. Not everyone is the descendant of the Chosen One. I know your Padawan is better than grievances over his name. Just as I know you're better than defending his behavior.”

“Understood, Master Windu,” Luke bows. With that, he's dismissed.

The next week marks the beginning of the Senate's second quarter session. Ben’s scheduled to observe the dicing of new law and old, tired policies. His mother, having been the senator to Naboo for the better part of the last decade, will be applied as the majority leader for many of the votes. But it’s not like Ben has more than a basic understanding of how the Senate functions.

Luke and his Padawan find seats in the lavish booth for visiting observers. For the first two hours, Ben is painfully bored, even by watching his mother’s speaking. It’s a shame because her speeches used to excite him. He peers down the vast rotunda. There's not much to look at once you get used to all the floating repulsorpods.

A familiar man is busying himself and his aids with what appears to be screens of legislation. The man is hard, broad, stiff like a board, his didactic voice elevating higher than normal. Ben frowns at the figure to the man’s side. It's then that he knows where he remembers the man from, when he finally lays eyes on Armitage Hux.

Immediately, Ben is hit with a sense of relief. He never imagined he’d see the Hux boy again. The boy looks older, meaner, rigid at his father’s side. Hux's father begets a heated debate with surrounding systems over Arkanis’s weapons program. Young Armitage stands at attention the entire time, spine erect like he's being judged on it.

Master Luke mutters something in disapproval when the debate ends. “Men like him are why the demilitarization laws are in place,” Luke concludes.

But Ben is too distracted by Armitage Hux and the one-sided argument with his father. Remarkably, Commandant Hux gives his son permission to leave with a faux calming brush of his hand to his shoulder.

Ben eyes the boy’s retreat, committing to memory what exit he used. “Permission to use the refresher, Master?”

Luke makes a face. “Permission granted, Padawan,” he replies in mock seriousness at Ben’s forced proper phrasing.

Ben doesn't waste another second. He speed-walks to the outside hall and down the main flight of stairs. This is where Hux would have been if he hadn’t run out of the building by now. Reaching out with his senses, Ben searches for any sign of disturbance.

He pinpoints a lull in the Force.

Young Armitage Hux sniffles into a handkerchief. Another terrible end to a terrible day. His father probably already knows he's off crying, in the hidden halls of the Galactic Senate no less. Some day to be falling apart.

He'd woken up that morning already off balance and with a mighty need to seek out information on his real mother. Not his step-mother, but the young, kind, beautiful woman who visits him in his dreams. And now that his father’s military state has gotten approval for their defense program, life at home on Arkanis will no doubt worsen. More rules, more focus, and less time to do things that actually interest him. Hux whimpers. He's so alone.

Footfalls startle him. Hurriedly, he scrubs at his face and stands to attention. But the intruder isn't his father readying his robust, bruising fists. Hux deflates. It's just a kid. That kid. Hux instantly recognizes Ben, the Padawan learner.

“Everything okay?” Ben asks after an awkward beat.

Hux hastily scrubs at his wet cheeks. “Mind your business.”

“I would, but I was looking for you. You don't remember me, do you?” Figures.

Of course Hux recognizes the boy. This is Ben, the kid who tore up his TIE fighter and witnessed one of his father’s many demanding episodes. But he's not gonna give Ben a chance to feel good about himself, to think that he's someone remarkable. “Should I?”

Ben looks at him like he can tell he's lying. Instead of confronting him, Ben remains at arm's length. They're almost the same height now. They both have some of growing to do and there's no indication who will win the race.

“I was worried. You seemed off,” Ben says, heart open and sympathetic. Confusion flashes over Hux's eyes. No one's ever been worried about him before.

“I'm fine. I was just getting some air.”

“Under the stairwell?”

Anger surges. Hux shoves past him. Already, he's humiliated. Can't he just have some peace?

“Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you,” Ben tries. “I just wanted to ask how things were.” Hux turns around, but says nothing. “I've been thinking about you and about your dad.”

Hux doesn't know what to say. This boy somehow cares for him as if they were friends.

“I just wanted to say that I understand. My dad can be kind of a jerk. Maybe not as bad as yours—” wrong thing to say! “But I get how it feels to be underneath it all. Like his crap is your crap.”

Hux swallows. This is so foreign to him. Someone's trying to level with him, show him he's not alone. He feels full. And he can’t help but feel this Ben boy has the answer to at least one of his questions. “It's so hard. I don't have anyone to talk to, really.”

“I'm a good listener. Well, I take that back. I can listen to stories. Orders, not so much.”

Hux snorts. The mood is largely better. Thanks to Ben. “No kidding.”

“Here,” Ben says, shuffling through his pockets. He brandishes his standard issue comm. “Take my comm. I'll tell my master I lost it. I want you to take it. Just in case you wanna talk sometime.”

The fact that Ben assumed he didn't have a comm of his own is both embarrassing and impressive. His father never trusted him with anything less than a tracker in the seam of his coat, tagged and tracked as if he were some animal. If the Commandant ever found a comm on him, surely there'd be consequences.

Hux takes the comm and Ben’s heart soars, as if his approval is his greatest achievement. The joy pleasantly paints his face. Countless cruel, instinctual retorts bubble up in Hux’s throat, but nothing of the like forms.

“Please don't call any of the saved numbers or you'll blow my story about losing it,” Ben says. “I'll leave you to it, then. Oh, and I'll try call you as soon as I get a new comm. You don't have to answer or anything, but at least save the number.”

Hux stares at the comm, trying to keep his hands from trembling. Ben turns to leave, but Hux gains the courage to reciprocate all that this kid is offering him.

“Hey, Ben,” Hux says. He remembers his name. “Thank you.”

Breathing in, Ben beams like nothing could possibly go wrong with his plan to be friends with the older Hux boy. “You're welcome. I'll see you around.”

“See you.”

--

It's almost a week before Ben’s mother buys him another comm after a quick lecture about respecting his possessions. Ben finds some time after a local mission to the southern Coruscanti hemisphere. He's alone and eager when he makes the call to Hux. Hux doesn't answer, so Ben leaves a message.

“No rush to call back, but here's my signature. Hope things are going well. Bye,” Ben finishes awkwardly. It takes Hux not even five minutes to reply, and Ben wishes to imagine once Hux saw he had a message he rushed to find privacy. Ben answers on the third ding.

“Hey, Hux. It's me,” he says stupidly.

“I can see that,” Hux says. It's his brand of playful teasing.

“Well. How are you? Are you back home on Arkanis?”

“Yes. I'm in my quarters. Pardon my appearance. My father has me train after class.”

“Train? For what?” Hux doesn't look the least bit disheveled, but something tells Ben that Hux is telling the truth because Hux always looked so put-together.

“It's a part of my academy's program. Normally training is on the weekends, but that time is reserved for travel.”

Ben sits on his bottom. Sounds like Hux has a similar lifestyle to him. “What do you study?”

“I study everything that he Arkanian military requires. Weapons, strategy. It's very rigorous.” Hux pauses for a long moment, as if hesitating to admit something deeply personal. “I wanted to learn more about architecture. I've always wanted to design new buildings. Whole cities, even.”

Ben grins, pleased to learn an interesting and telling fact about the ever-mysterious Armitage Hux. “That's awesome. You should do that.”

“It's not in the stars,” Hux says stiffly.

“Why not?”

“You're awfully young, Ben. I don't expect you to understand,” Hux sighs.

Come on, they're only like a few years apart. “We're not so different. I'm training here. You're training there. Sometimes I think about what I would do if I wasn't a Jedi.”

“Isn't that against your code?”

“Maybe,” Ben shrugs. “But I can't help my imagination. I'd like to live in a house with my family. And take long trips on my ship, living like a pirate or something.” He knows he sounds silly, but he hopes Hux won’t scrutinize him too harshly.

“A pirate?”

“Or something!”

“You’re a funny little boy,” Hux smirks. He’s delighted, it would seem.

Ben blushes, he can’t help it. He’s about to retort with something that probably sounds way cleverer in his head when Hux’s snickering face suddenly blips to terror. Ben asks him what’s wrong, but Hux isn’t focused on their holo-transmission, it’s on whoever is growling at him off-camera. The aggressor snatches the comm from Hux’s hands, disrupting the holo but Ben can still hear every word.

“What the hell are you doing with that? Where did you get that?” snarls the unseen voice. Ben’s speechless, at a complete loss of what to do. Hux is millions of miles away. His heart aches because the comm was all his doing, and now Hux is gonna get in trouble because of him. Tears cloud his vision and he desperately tries to listen on to the other end. He jumps when the voice starts again. “Speak up.” Ben recognizes that voice. It’s Brendol Hux’s voice, Armitage’s live-in terror.

Ben shudders at the confidence in Hux’s voice. “I found it.” Jeez, Hux, that’s a terrible lie!

The unmistakable crack of a slap partnered with a wounded yelp is the last thing Ben hears before the comm is shut off with a crackle.

Ben gapes at the deceased transmission. His hands tremble, having never witnessed such a cruel interaction between parent and child. How is he supposed to go on not knowing when he’ll hear from Hux again?

No, he’s not letting Brendol Hux get away with this. Preparing to face the consequences of his actions, Ben marches for his master’s study. At Ben’s intrusion, Master Luke startles at his desk.

“I lied to you. I didn’t lose my comm. I gave it to Hux.”

“Who?” Luke asks, confused at Ben’s frazzled entrance.

“Armitage Hux. He’s my friend, and I gave him my comm because he was lonely. But his father found the comm...and he hit him, Master. And the comm’s been disconnected. I can’t contact him.” I can’t see if he’s alright.

Luke immediately understands. He remembers Armitage Hux, son of the Arkanian military leader Commandant Brendol Hux. He’s touched Ben has taken a liking to the older military boy, even if they are on opposite sides of the growing conflict. He’s taught Ben to have compassion for even their enemies. But Ben doesn’t think Hux is his enemy. He said so himself. Armitage is his friend.

“We have to go to Arkanis and help him,” Ben tries. The softness in his master’s face is far too akin to pity. Anger rises. He’d normally try and disperse it into the Force, but instead he embraces it. “Please, Master. He doesn’t have anyone who cares about him.”

Luke feels a lot like Obi-Wan when he decides to take the higher moral ground. It’s not something he’s proud of. It’s what must be done, what Ben must learn. “You’re a very compassionate boy, Ben. But we cannot interfere. Arkanis is already an unstable military state. Anything we do that will make them distrust the Jedi and the Republic will be catastrophic.”

Ben darkens. “He’s out there, suffering. And you’re just gonna do nothing?”

“It’s beyond the scope of what we do. Their leaders already threatened to lead the next Separatist movement. Billions on Arkanis, and countless more could be jeopardized.”

“I don’t care for politics,” Ben snaps.

“It’s not politics. It’s war. We have to think about what’s best for all, not just one.”

Master Luke is wrong. How could leaving Hux to be abused acceptable for the greater good? “No. This is what we do. We help people who can’t help themselves. You taught me that. I thought you believed it.”

This seems to get through to his master. Master Luke cracks, contemplative grief tightening his brow. “I’ll call his father’s offices first thing in the morning.”

Ben’s so grateful his master sees clearly now. “We have to get him out of there. His father is a monster.”

“Ben.”

“Alright, fine.” A call is better than nothing. It’s still barely anything. “Just...please call right now. I feel sick not knowing.”

When Luke calls, he orders the officer on the directory to make sure Commandant Hux returns his call. But the officer simply repeats, “The Commandant is heading off-world as we speak.”

“To where?” Luke asks, concern heightening.

“It’s classified, Master Jedi.”

Ben looks up to his master like this call is his only hope. “Please,” Luke tries. “It can’t wait.”

“It’ll have to. But only for a few hours. The Commandant is escorting his son to his new boarding school. He should be back in the early morning. I’ll have him return your call then.”

Luke nods, and signs off. Gravely, he meets his Padawan’s eyes. But Ben gapes to the floor and pads back towards his room. He spends the night wide awake, haunted. If he hadn’t gave Hux that comm, none of this would have happened. Now Hux is on some damned nameless Separatist-wannabe system, probably more alone than he’s ever been in his life. Hux probably hates him. He has every right to. Ben sniffles and stares out his room’s wide window at the light-polluted nighttime Coruscant sky.

Ben tosses and turns, trying to shut out his dark, depressing thoughts. In an act of pure childishness, Ben reaches under his bed for a memento from his youth, his worn purple tooka doll.

I love you, Ben, says the doll, so clearly, even now that he’s grown. When he was small, he thought the doll could really speak to him. He would imagine they had secrets. Ben stares into the doll’s stitched eyes, longing for a friend.

You’ll always have me.

Chapter Text

“Thirty-five...thirty-six...thirty-seven,” Ben pants, driving himself to finish all fifty of his morning set of pull-ups in his doorframe. He’s been back home on Naboo for a short leave before his meeting with the Council to propose his knight trials. His grandmother pads over from her early morning walk through her garden, the outlet to it right next to Ben’s room. At age twenty-one, Padawan Ben has a whole foot of height on her.

“There’s such a thing as over preparation,” Padmé says once Ben gets to fifty and drops back to the carpet. “You do this every morning?”

Ben smiles and guzzles down a glass of lukewarm water from yesterday. “The Council agreed to evaluate me for my trials next week. I wanna be ready.”

“I'm sure you'll impress them. It's in your blood.”

But Ben disagrees. “The Council hasn’t changed since the last time they rejected my first attempt for the trials. I need all the help I can get.”

“You're so much like Anakin. He always tried to fit the entire breadth of the galaxy on his shoulders,” she sighs wistfully. There was a time when she believed that they'd both be standing here, hand in hand, old and creaky, passing along advice to their grandson.

“Anakin was a knight when he was my age. I'd hate for you to tarnish his good name,” Ben says.

His grandmother looks at him with transparent disapproval. “He was also far too hard on himself. He kept everything in and kept all of us out.”

Ben doesn't say anything back. They know each other too well and have far too many of the same mannerisms for their arguments to last. Padmé leaves him to complete his stretching.

He's one of the oldest Padawan learners in the Jedi Temple. The Council made him wait an entire year after his first rejected evaluation to begin his transition into knighthood before permitting a second shot. Master Luke tells him it's because they know he can do better and impress the Council with his growing strengths as a leader and swordsman. Ben was only half-joking when he told him that he may have to wait until Master Luke himself is the head of the Council to be approved this time. Sometimes he feels like Master Luke is the only one on his team.

Well, he has Rey, but she's advancing far more rapidly than he ever had. At this rate she'll be a knight before him. And Master Mara Jade, who’s both on the Council and has become family in the literal and figurative sense. As much as he hates to say it, his only advantage is that Master Windu’s passing five months prior opened the Council’s head, now overseen by Master Adi Gallia. But even she is approaching advanced age. She's always been outwardly neutral but privately judgmental of his family.

Ben focuses on his leave. It's a special time, one with his mother who, for once, is home for the weekend at the same time he is. She intercepts him at breakfast, Threepio tending to a pot of tea. She received a call from Han last night. Keenly, she observes her son’s silent contemplation as he eats with impeccable manners as if the Council is watching him right this second.

“Your father's coming to visit tomorrow,” Leia says. “Maybe you can stay another day so you two can catch up.”

Ben hesitates before resuming chewing. “Maybe next time. My trials are soon. I don’t want to be distracted.”

Leia and Padmé exchange shielded glances. The often communicate silently and coded, a symptom of their unique bond.

“Next time,” Leia concedes.

Ben nods. That's enough he has to say on the subject.

Later, Ben prepares his shuttle for Coruscant. He hugs his mother and grandmother goodbye. Padmé, he'll see in the coming months, while his mother he sees several times a month at the Senate. Still, he doesn't take the personal time he has with them for granted. Unlike his father, who’s eternally late.

“See you this weekend,” Leia says. “I know you'll impress the Council tomorrow.”

“Hope so.”

“Ben, I mean it. Don't focus on what could go wrong. Focus on what you know. On what will show them you're ready.”

Ben nods, taking his mother’s words close to heart. This mother and grandmother have always given him his most prized advice.

--

Ben and Luke carry themselves in tandem for the Council chambers. Yesterday upon Ben's arrival from Naboo, Master Gallia approached him and told him she was looking forward to their meeting. Hope carried him forward. Surely, the Council has made the right choice.

Master Luke stops him before they enter the threshold. “Ben, I want you to know that whatever they decide, it's the right call. I couldn't be prouder of you. Understand?”

Ben smiles, heartbeat quickening. This is it. Finally, all his arduous work has proven fruitful. “Thank you, Master.”

Luke nods and pushes through. Ben misreads his wariness as nervousness, far too filled with notions of knighthood to properly perceive it. Luke finds his seat beside Mara, not meeting her eyes.

“Young Solo, please step forward,” Master Gallia says. Ben masks his unease at the use of his birth name and complies, standing at attention. “Over the years, we've watched you grow from an energetic youngling to a wise and tempered young man. I know I can speak for all of us when I say we've been proud to house you as a student and hone your abilities. I know you would have made Master Windu proud had he pushed past, what was it, a hundred-and-five years old?” This earns several laughs from the Council, including a diluted one from Ben.

“In lieu of an immediate commencement of your trials, we want you to lead the other Padawan in their group sessions. Padawan led sessions are something we've wanted to do before but never found the right candidate. You're the perfect Padawan for the job.”

Ben wavers as if the Council chambers floor had sunken to one side. Had he misheard? The Council is denying his trials. Again?

“This program will immediately precede your trials,” Master Gallia informs him, sensing his unease. “It's not a punishment or meant to prolong your apprenticeship. Your master and the rest of the Council feel you only stand to gain from this break. Think of it as preparation for your trials. In a sense, it's the beginning of them.”

“But it isn't,” Ben says lowly, before he can rescind the words. “How long is this...program?”

“We've got it planned to be completed over the rest of the year.”

It's already the beginning of the year. So he's to wait another year? Another damned year? “What does Master Luke have to say about this?” he demands, gloves forming fists behind his back.

“It was his idea,” Master Gallia nods, and there's no mistaking Ben's flickering heartbreak and betrayal in Luke’s direction.

Ben says nothing. He waits to be dismissed. Clearly Master Luke, his mentor, his uncle, and the closest thing he has to a father, doesn't believe he's ready to be a knight. He doesn't believe in him. There's no anger, only grief.

It’s Master Jade’s turn to speak. “Ben, this is the beginning of your knighthood. Nothing less, understand? The program isn't just for other Padawan, it's also for civilian children of our Republic. You'll be providing a priceless service on behalf of the Order. Student teaching is considered very valuable in the Republic’s school system.”

“I understand,” Ben says. He's gotten the message just fine. “Will that be all?” He wants nothing to do with the Council right now, and nothing to do with his master. Master Gallia nods and Ben leaves without hesitation.

He converges with his mother at the Senate, whom he trusts most of all. He hates to be a nuisance but there’s no one else he has right now. Ben waits outside her chamber doors, staring into space.

Threepio alerts Leia of her son’s untimely visit. She’s in the recess of a meeting, her countenance schooled into coolness in the aftermath of the tumultuous morning. For the first time in years, the representative to Arkanis stormed out with no indication of returning today. She adjusts her Alderaanian braids in Threepio’s reflective surface, discreetly as to not offend him. Although she grew up on Naboo, Leia spent her summers at a diplomacy school on Alderaan and remains close with Bail and Breha Organa, her mentors. Had they had any children, they’d be incredible parents.

Once the other members of her committee are ready to disperse, Leia opens her doors to let them out and allow Ben in. It was only a few days ago that she saw him, but before he has the chance to speak, she knows something terrible has happened.

“Don’t hold me in suspense, Ben,” Leia chides, escorting him to a sofa. Stiffly, Ben takes a seat.

“I’ve done something wrong. I must have.”

“Whatever it is, it’s happening for a reason. Not every setback is there to aggravate you.”

Ben shakes his head. He’s on the verge of tears, but he holds them in. “I’m not ready to be a knight. The Council made that clear.”

Leia wilts. She knows how hard Ben is on himself, how determined and passionate he is to follow through with his training. “I’m so sorry, Ben. What about Luke? He couldn’t have convinced them otherwise?”

The tears fall, and Ben fidgets to dry them. “He’s the one who pushed for me to be a Padawan for another year. At least. After everything, I thought—”

“Hey, listen to me,” she says, stern yet calm. “Luke wants what’s best for you. He loves you, and not in the way a Jedi should. You’re like a son to him.”

Like a son. Likeness. An imitation. A facsimile of the real thing.

“He may be wrong. Luke’s not the be-all and end-all of the Jedi,” Leia urges, “but he also wants what’s best for you. If you truly think you’re ready, we can talk with him. I’m sure he has his reasons for pushing back your trials. We’ll talk with him, how’s that sound?”

Ben glares into space. She’s treating him like a child. He knows she means only the best. His mother always has the best intentions. But this is something he must face, only alone so that his success is no one else’s but his. “What happened? To your committee. They all seemed out of sorts,” Ben says, one of his critical methods of diversion in times of stress.

Leia breathes, ever magnanimous to her son’s ability to conceal himself. “There’s been an issue with one of the militarist states. Arkanis. The system’s leaders hadn’t disclosed anything, but it effectively halted the voting that was supposed to be finished today.”

Ben frowns. “Arkanis?”

“Yes. Hux is his name. He’s normally so controlled but today he was so angry. I could feel his rage ricocheting around the repulsorpods,” she shakes her head.

“Hux?” Ben breathes, uttering the name for the first time aloud in a decade.

“Brendol Hux.” Leia can read her son like the crispest of texts. They’ve shared many secrets, including that of Ben’s fleeting history with Armitage Hux, the boy who hasn’t stepped foot on Coruscant since that one moment in the stairwell Ben told her about. “You knew the man’s son, hadn’t you?”

There were several things Ben knew about Brendol Hux. He only reacted angrily and brashly in regard to Armitage Hux, the son he tirelessly sought to control. Ben finally answers her question with a nod. “He was my friend.”

For a minute, they were friends. Until Ben got him sent to that boot-camp because of his carelessness. His cry for attention, uncalled-for compassion.

“Have you seen him at all since then?” Leia asks.

“No, I...didn’t have a way of connecting with him. I don’t even know where he is. It’s been over ten years,” Ben says, only now realizing he’s been keeping track. He hasn’t had much in the way of friends in the Jedi Order. Rey, maybe, but she’ll always be like his kid sister.

Leia considers this. “Maybe you should try and reconnect with him. Take a bit of a leave for a while.”

Ben raises his brows. “What about Luke? I’m sure he’ll wanna have a heart-to-heart or whatever.”

“Luke can suck it.”

Threepio startles from the doorway at Ben’s laugh, bright and boisterous in the prim office of Senator Leia of Naboo. “Ma, please. I’m serious,” he smiles.

“I’m serious. You should take a break. He knows how much the trials meant to you. Here. Take my cruiser. I’ll get a ride home with one of the other kids,” Leia says, mirth glittering her eyes.

Already, the idea is tangible, enticing even. “I can’t…”

“Don’t make me take you there myself.”

“Alright, alright. I probably won't find anything. But you're right. There's too much hot-air in the Temple.” It’s oppressing.

Ben embraces his mother. He'll always thrive off her support. She sends him on his way with a vow to keep his business private from her brother's prying. Master or no master, Luke needs to give her boy some space. He can't be his student forever.

--

“If you do not have a landing permit, you are not permitted to enter Arkanian airspace,” the voice from the control tower alerts through Ben's comms.

Ben frowns, preparing for a landing anyway. “I am here for diplomatic purposes only. Senator Leia Skywalker sent me. I apologize for the confusion but I'm landing my shuttle.”

“We will be forced to use preventative measures if you continue. Leave at once.”

He weighs his options as his navicomputer alerts him that his ship is some other computer’s target. What has he got to lose, anyway? He's already on the Council’s shit list, and it's not like he can't outrun whatever missiles he Arkanian military has locked on him.

Sheer stubbornness has him dive into Arkanis’s atmosphere. He laughs as the missiles close in on him, but he loses them against one of the atmospheric shield generators, which were luckily set up only to block large cruisers from passing. Effectively, Ben pilots his ship to a rain battered quarry. Some military. He lost them with a hilarious amount of ease.

Following his landing, Ben pats his belt to make sure he's armed with his saber. He steps out, breathing in the wet air. The only thing that wipes the smug smile off his face is the sharp, fiery electric shock to his neck shot from an unseen source that renders him unconscious, and he falls to the muddy ground with an undignified grunt.

Ben comes-to in a dimly lit cell. He's face down on a table. Thankfully, his captors are civil enough to leave him uncuffed. His vision is blurred but he manages to focus on the man blocking the light source like an eclipse.

“Hell of a way to welcome someone,” Ben groans, rolling his shoulders. He's gaining more clarity and can see they've taken him to an interrogation room.

“Where is he?” sneers the steady, unyielding eclipse of a man.

Ben narrows his eyes—he has no idea what the man's talking about—but then they widen to saucers. “Brendol Hux.”

Brendol Hux steps into the light. “I won't repeat myself. If you know who I am, you know that I demand you return what's mine.”

“What?” Ben asks, completely lost.

The table screeches from the Force of Brendol’s fists. Ben sits back in his chair, frightened. “You, an outsider, invade our world the same day my son goes missing? You expect me to believe you have nothing to do with this?”

Ben gapes. Armitage Hux. He's been taken? Ben scrambles for an explanation because he has to get out of this chair and out there to find him. He knew there was more to that feeling he had, the need to reconnect with a childhood friend. Armitage is in danger.  “My name is Ben Skywalker-Solo and I'm a Jedi. My mother is Leia Skywalker, senator to Naboo. I assure you I had nothing to do with your son's disappearance. Call the Jedi Council. I was with them all morning. I swear.”

Brendol Hux scours him with his steely glare. It's as if the man can see through him like a glass fixture, his every thought laid for Brendol’s dissection. He's not quite convinced Ben’s telling the truth. “Then what the hell are you doing here, boy?”

Ben swallows. What is he doing here? “I've taken a short leave from duty. It's been years since I last heard from Armitage. I knew him in my youth. I wanted to see how he was doing. That's all.”

Before Brendol can start up again, Ben continues. “And I feel as if...I was meant to be here. The Force is calling me. You have to let me out of here, so I can find him.” He doesn’t know why he bothers. Brendol Hux is not a man of faith.

Without another word, Brendol abandons Ben to stare at the unremarkable wall in front of him. Only about five minutes pass before Brendol returns, this time with three other men.

“Will you help us find him, Jedi?” Brendol asks, as if he hadn't just screamed in Ben's face and called him a liar. Ben presumes he checked his story.

Ben isn’t offended not petty, just relieved to be making progress. “I'll need to speak with whoever saw him last.” He has a suspicion that Armitage Hux had yet again staged his own kidnapping, something a man who hates his present situation would do. He’s done it before as a boy. A sick, selfish thrill flares within him, that perhaps should he find him, he can bring him not back home, but to his side.

Brendol ushers him through the halls of their castle-like citadel. They stop at a small crowd of blank-faced officers. “These men were the last to see him. Armitage was in their care when he was taken. Midflight while in shared space before his vessel made it to hyperspace. Armitage vanished like he was never there,” Brendol sneers to his inadequate gathering of officers. They'll all be demoted.

Ben nods, sizing the men up. They all appear guilty both visually and through the Force’s uninhibited call. All of them save for one. Ben senses nothing but arrogance and an undisguised sense of accomplishment.

“Got something to say?” Ben demands like he's their superior. In a sense he is, being a keeper of peace on behalf of the Republic. Even if he’s just a Padawan.

The man’s smugness falls, and Ben pushes forward. What are you hiding? Ben forces through. He's always been naturally skilled in mental-manipulation, far more than his peers, both Padawan and young Knights alike.

Ben focuses, prying coveted thoughts from the man. Brendol orders him to be apprehended by his guards while Ben finish his work.

You know what really happened, don't you? Ben urges. How he escaped?

He'll never escape, comes the man’s private thought from behind his penetrable walls. Not where they have him. The man’s horror is written all over his face when Ben’s got his message, his own secrets betraying him as Ben bleeds him for information like a stuck pig.

“Where is he?” Ben growls to the traitor. He takes a hand to the man’s skull, pressing deeper inside. This is not a skill the Jedi taught him. It's not one Ben knew he had. All that matters is that Armitage Hux has been taken, betrayed by one of his own, and he won't stop at anything to get him back. The ferocity of his protectiveness is staggering. Armitage doesn't have very many allies in this galaxy. It's time Ben changed that. Ben commits to that ideal, encouraged by the man’s screams as he persists his mental pillaging.

Ben pulls away when he breaks. “He's been taken to a labor camp on Jan-Em,” Ben pants. “I'll be needing my weapon.”

Brendol stares, astonished. Frightened not for his son’s fate but of Ben’s true power. “We'll be going without you Jedi. Though your efforts are appreciated, we don't need you anymore.”

“All due respect, but the size of your army will get him killed trying to rescue him. These men won't be looking for one rogue Jedi. I can gain the advantage quietly and get him to safety,” Ben asserts. “You can't get him back safely any other way. I got you all this far. I can get him back.”

What does Ben have to prove to these men? That he's a capable soldier, a trusted authority?

“Absolutely not,” Brendol snaps, final.

“Forgive me, but I’m not asking for your permission. Sir.” He holds out his gloved hand. “My weapon, please.” From Brendol’s skeptical leer, he hardly believes Ben’s contrived sternness. But instead of humiliating him or tossing him back in holding, he hands Ben his lightsaber. Already, Ben feels more qualified before Brendol, the most difficult man he’s ever met. He can’t imagine what it would be like living with this man for his entire life, constantly at the bottom of the barrel like Armitage Hux has been.

“You will find him. If you do not prove to me he’s alive within an hour of your arrival to Jan-Em, the labor camp will be met by unparalleled force. I’m sure the Senate would not take kindly to one of their Jedi apprentices waging a war on a private system,” Brendol threatens. It doesn’t make sense how a man could toy with his own son’s fate to prove he’s got the bigger stick than a Jedi, a student at that. A chill wracks Ben. Failure is not an option, for Armitage Hux’s sake.

Chapter Text

Ben’s never done anything like this before. He’s rarely had to brandish his weapon while on diplomatic missions with Master Luke, and certainly never had to break into a building, a heavily fortified one at that. But on Jan-Em, he puts his skills to the test, passing through weaker minds like a ghost through walls and resorting to necessary violence when his mind tricks won’t work.

It’s absolutely invigorating. Where the hells have these missions been all his life? He feels like one of those novel heroes who brave treacherous terrain to rescue the stolen princess. But Armitage Hux is far from a princess that needs rescuing.

Well. Not that far.

He’s so close to finding him. Already, he’s got his location, stolen from a pair of brutish Gamorreans, who according to Ben’s rough translation, refer to Armitage Hux as the ‘angry red one.’

After disarming and neutralizing the pair of guards, Ben finds the door leading to the private cell in question. He fumbles with the lock, until he realizes that the rules don't apply here and if he can beat up Gamorreans, he can slice through a cell door. Ben activates his lightsaber and clumsily saws through the door, just enough for it to give when he drives his shoulder into it.

He enters the cell. The crumpled form in the corner is the only object that catches the light from his saber blade. Ben kneels low to investigate the trembling figure. It's been a decade, but there’s no doubt this is Hux under the blindfold and gag, hogtied and dirt smudged like an animal. Hux is backed against the wall, chained up in a manner that's completely unnecessary given his restraints and imprisonment. He's so small and his hair is so red. He hasn't changed a bit.

Carefully, Ben peels back his blindfold and is immediately seared by Hux’s infuriated, terrified, confused glare. The gag is next and the light from his saber illuminates the drying tears against Hux's cheeks.

Ben doesn't realize he's staring until Hux asks shakily, “Who are you?”

“I'm Ben,” he says, their third introduction. “I'm here to rescue you.” He's been waiting all his life to say that. “Come on. We have to be quick. Let's get you out of these restraints. Can you stand?”

Hux swallows. His legs are numb and bruised his ankles and wrists ache from mistreatment from his captors. He looks to the strange man. Ben. His eyes, his name so familiar even in this dim light. Had he not been kidnapped, beaten, and kept in a stress position for what felt like days, he'd be able to properly defend himself against this familiar man, using his words at least. All Hux can do is shake his head.

Ben lowers his saber. Hux doesn't recognize him. He's not sure if he should be offended or flattered. He's a far cry from that dorky Padawan he used to be, but he had hoped to have left at least some impression on him. “I'm gonna remove your restraints. Please hold still.”

Hux nods, trying to give Ben some room, begging the tremors from his hands. This is so humiliating. Ben brings his lightsaber to his restraints and Hux jumps when Ben saws them off. When he's free, and marred with singe marks, Hux is maneuvered into a standing position. Ben apologizes profusely for the burns, but Hux is so grateful for the freeing of his hands, he hadn’t noticed.

He immediately collapses in Ben's arms, weak and boneless and useless. Ben fumbles a bit with him, but eventually gets him into his arms.

“Sorry, it'll be easier this way,” Ben laments. Hux counts his blessings. At least Ben isn't getting off on his humiliation.

“Just go. I can't—I have to get out of this place.” Hux lolls his head forward, and once they're in the hallway Ben fleetingly examines the gashes and bruises mottling Hux’s skull, face, wrists, as well as the crusted blood messing his red hair. He summons all the energy he can to escape, Hux hanging limply in his arms. By the time they're back on Ben's ship and zooming through hyperspace, Hux has long since passed out.

--

Armitage Hux wakes up burdened by artificial gravity, his limbs sagging and aching against the medical spread. His father is the first thing he sees. His lifetime of conditioning straightens his weakened, protesting spine.

You made a complete fool out of me, is what Armitage Hux imagines his father is saying behind the wall of his stern glare.

Hux bows his head. “I'm sorry, Sir. There were too many of them.”

Brendol Hux steps to his son’s bedside, boots heavy on the tiled floor. He lays a broad hand on his son’s shoulder. “I'm sorry for not properly protecting you.”

Hux blinks blearily up at him in shock. Surely, he misheard. He swallows, unsure of how to proceed.

“I know that because of our work, our relationship suffered. But all of this is—the fight, everything—is for a greater purpose than us both. We must persist,” Brendol implores, holding his son’s bewildered stare.

“I know that I've been hard on you over the years,” Brendol continues. “But that is how a soft metal is made into steel, Armitage.” Brendol’s compassion is rarely expressed but to Armitage Hux, for some indescribable reason, it outshines so, so many terrible memories of beratement and violence. Hux warms and for the first time is relieved to have his father’s hands on him.

“This can't happen again. Understand?” Brendol says gently, devoid of his customary threat.

Hux nods, rendered mute. What just happened?

“Ben, please come in,” Brendol calls towards the door. On cue, Ben reveals himself and Hux stifles the niggling suspicion that all this has been rehearsed. But he’s never felt as genuine of a vow as his father’s consolations. Ben looks at him with that same sincerity he saw earlier in the cell. He makes the final connection as to where he recognizes Ben from, as well as the coincidence of his name.

Ben the mouthy, aggravating, infuriatingly sincere, compassionate Jedi. That was a lifetime ago.

“Armitage, be sure you show young Ben your gratitude for rescuing you. Not only had he caught the traitor who led to your capture, but he found you before my best team could. I’ll be having him escort you home after my men and I get a statement from you. These rats will live to regret what they did, and live not a moment longer.”

Hux bows his head. He forces the flashbacks of the torture from the forefront of his mind, oblivious to Ben’s keen perception of his internal struggle. “I’m ready for questioning.” As soon as possible. I just want to go home.

Dutifully, Ben maintains a vigil by the door as Brendol’s vanguard snakes in, every bit as large and imposing as his leader. Armitage Hux is quite the foil, swimming in his grey medical gown, so pale and bruised under the clinical lighting. He needs more sun, a warmer blanket, and perhaps a cheeseburger from Dex’s Diner.

Hux tells his father’s men half-truths of torture he bravely withstood, demands he fulfilled, negotiation techniques that worked and techniques that failed, for their reference. But in truth, Hux had barely kept himself from begging for his life, for the men to stop hurting him. He doesn’t tell his father how the men threatened him with vile, unspeakable crimes against his body and mind, and how he cowered from every hit like a waif.

He doesn’t tell his father how the beatings hadn’t measured up to the ones he gave him after snooping for the truth of what happened to his real mother, or the backhanded slap his father branded him a few years back with when he found his secret, tentatively coveted datapad filled with a small collection of homosexual pornography he had acquired to discover who he was. He’d have gladly taken more days in that stress position to take away that awful memory, how ashamed and worthless he felt.

From the door, Ben looks despondent as if he can see right through him. What does he know about torture? He’s a Jedi, sure, but hasn’t got a mark on him. He’s younger, though he doesn’t look it, except for a childishly inquisitive and earnest furrow to his brow, something he’d try to conceal if Hux ever told him about how much he reveals on his face.

“Very well. Thank you, Armitage. You’ve been a significant help. I’ll see you in a few days when I return to Arkanis. For now, Ben will take you home.” Brendol and his vanguard leave Hux alone with Ben.

When they’re alone, Hux immediately starts gathering himself to leave his father’s cruiser. He doesn’t say anything when Ben leaps to his aid. It’s Ben who breaks the silence.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asks. He can hold his tongue no longer.

Hux swallows. Ben, the aggravatingly young Jedi with dark hair and a helpful air about him. “You’ve changed,” he says. When they were younger, he had the height and weight advantage. But now they’re in their twenties, Ben’s a few inches taller and several wider all around, packed with muscle, broad in his shoulders, face sharp and masculine. He’s still got those doleful, earnest brown eyes, soft in every light.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Ben says, and Hux hears his smile. “Still getting into trouble on spaceships.”

It’s a joke, one Hux doesn’t take offense to because he knows Ben means well. But what happened to him today was far from a laughing matter. He unfolds the fatigues his father left him, then turns around to see Ben coiling and uncoiling his fists. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do you mind?” he raises his brows. He prefers to change without an audience.

Like the room is on fire, Ben swiftly apologizes and leaves. Hux’s lips curl in amusement. Still a funny little boy.

--

Ben docks his borrowed ship on one of the platforms outside Hux’s residence, surprisingly at the same military base he was taken to earlier. “We’re here,” he says unnecessarily to Hux who hasn’t said a thing since takeoff when Ben had to help him walk as his crutch. “Need me to help you upstairs?”

“I’m fine. There’s an elevator.”

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. The whole point of this was to reconnect, and so far, they haven’t had a full conversation.

“I’m fine,” Hux barks, then reels it back in. “You’ve done enough. I’m sure my father will tell your superiors of your heroism.” With that, he stands and marches to the boarding ramp without so much as a goodbye. Ben panics, because what if this is the last time he sees him? Making up his mind, Ben depowers his ship and scampers after him. He converges with Hux just in time to catch him before he passes out from exhaustion.

“I’ve got it. Let me go,” Hux sneers, weakly shoving at him. Why is Ben even here, after all these years? Why does he care this much?

“I’m walking you up to your room. After I know you’re safe, I’ll be out of your hair,” Ben tosses back.

Hux swallows the rest of his fit and allows Ben to lead him to his quarters. He can’t even admit to himself how comforting Ben’s concern and interest is, how much it makes him feel important especially after his night of torture. The healing bandages on his abdomen and skull are helping, but there was little the medics could do about the nausea and anxiety since he kept those symptoms to himself.

Ben arrives at a large panel that serves as a front door, though it looks more like another cell than a homestead. Once inside, Ben makes no comment on the surroundings—simple, minimalist furnishings, no sofas or family areas besides a small dining table next to the kitchen, an organized desk, small windows, and two closed doors. Ben follows Hux’s instruction and half-carries him to his bedroom. The bedroom is large for one person, as is the whole living space.

When Hux is settled, Ben looks around the room for anything he may immediately need. He finds a pitcher and glass for water but Hux’s bony fingers have already found the neck of a bottle of liquor from the opposite table. Ben pours him a glass of water anyway.

“Why did you come here?” Hux asks. “After all these years. What made you come here?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Ben tells him honestly. “It was my mother’s. She’s a politician and she saw how upset your father was, and we got to talking about you. I told her we hadn’t spoke since…” Ben finds his words. “Since our last comm call.”

Hux remembers that call, how terrified he was when his father spotted him having an unauthorized conversation. His father had slapped him and accused him of treason because the line wasn’t secure, but he knew his father was angrier he was doing something with zero permission. Back then, he hated his father, tried so hard to defy him in the smallest of ways. It was childish and he’s proud he’s grown out of it. Now, he sees the sacrifices that must be made for their people and for the good of the galaxy. All in due time.

“That was right before I left for school,” Hux agrees, glossing over the painful memory.

“Yeah, I got you in big trouble.” And that’s putting it lightly.

“I can handle myself. You do remember that I’m older than you, don’t you?”

“Four years older, yes. But I’m almost a Jedi Knight. I’m sure that counts for something.”

Hux smirks. “Almost a knight is not a knight.”

Hurt flickers through Ben’s naked eyes. “What can I say. I’m a work in progress.”

Perhaps his knighthood is a sensitive subject. Ben doesn’t seem like the Jedi he’s met in passing. Ben is open, emotional, everything he’d never expect. “Thank you,” Hux cuts in, genuine and gracious. “I never got to properly thank you for rescuing me.”

Ben flushes. Not for the first time he appreciates Hux’s gratitude. His attention. “You need better security. Maybe…maybe until they catch whoever is responsible, I could stay here and make sure they don’t come back for you. Just for a few days.”

Hux’s green eyes widen. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than dote on me.”

“Let me just call my master. He’ll understand what’s at stake here.”

Hux squirms on his mattress. “Ben, this is a military base. There are very few beings who could infiltrate it.”

“But they have. That’s how they captured you. They’ve been living among you for who knows how long, and they knew they could overpower you to get to your father.”

“They knew they could overpower me?” Hux sneers incredulously. Too close, too vulnerable.

Ben wanes. “That’s not what I meant.”

But Hux has already made up his mind and that’s to kick Ben out. He’s just like the rest, only sees him outwardly. All his slimness and fragility. “I don’t need your help or your protection. Get out.”

“Hux—”

“Leave!”

Ben glares and marches outside, all but slamming the bedroom door. If Hux wants to get kidnapped again, fine. He’s rude, ungrateful, self-centered. Why the hell did he come here in the first place?

Sometimes the ones who have no interest in being saved are the ones that need it the most. Master Luke had taught him that. One of the many lessons he won’t cherry-pick, like Luke does. Angrily, and against his better judgement, Ben stamps out a call to Luke. It’s then he sees he missed three calls from him, all within the last few hours.

“Ben, is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Arkanis. Mom let me take her ship.”

Luke pauses, trying to connect the dots. “What happened?”

“Brendol Hux’s son went missing. I rescued him and brought him home. Safely. Now their leaders want me to stay here to protect him until they catch his kidnappers,” he fibs. “They know what I’m capable of. They trust my abilities,” he adds, and hopes it’ll sting.

Luke’s sigh crackles over the connection. “About this morning—”

“Do I have your permission to complete the mission, Master?”

“Yes,” Luke finally says. “Please, check in with me. We don’t know what they’re involved in. Their militarism—it’s privatized. They have unpredictable skirmishes.”

“I can handle things on my end.”

“I know.”

Ben hangs up, then thumbs over another call. It’s for Brendol, his personal line. “Sir, I have your son at home safely. He’s resting.”

“Thank you, Ben. I’ll be sure to put in a good word with the Council for your valor.” It sounds honest on Ben’s end. He’ll take it.

“Not necessary, Sir. It’s my duty. I’d also like to offer my personal protection for Armitage until your team catches his assailants. I already have approval from my superior.” How could Luke not see he’s knighting material?

“Ben, my boy,” Brendol croons. “We would be honored to accept your help.”

Pride rolls off him in waves. “I won’t let you down.” He smirks, imagining Hux’s face when he realizes he can’t get rid of him that easy. “Armitage didn’t take to the idea at first. Maybe you could call him and let him know that my protection is for his own good.”

“You’re an excellent judge of character, Ben.” With that, Brendol signs off.

Ben waits five minutes before knocking on the bedroom door and enters after Hux barks a brisk ‘come in,’ he enters with the smuggest smirk on his face.

“My father called. Look at you, going over my head to babysit me. You must be terribly bored to go through the trouble,” Hux scoffs. Other than the bruise to his pride, Ben doesn’t pose the worst company.

His father also requested something of him, something he is to be trusted with. A mission while in recovery, one he couldn’t refuse.

“What can I say. I’m a man who gets what he wants,” Ben shrugs. “What would you like for dinner? I make an excellent Armeni hash.”

At the prospect of food—whatever Armeni hash is—Hux’s stomach complains. “You know he’s just using you, right? It’s what my father does,” he shrugs. The truth veiled as a petty insult.

“Who’s to say I’m not using him, too?” Ben counters. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first solo mission. The Jedi will see how well I protected you and I’ll be on my way to knighthood.”

Hux seethes at Ben’s ridiculous posturing. It would be amusing if it weren’t so irritating. His first mission? How green is this man? “Except I may actually get killed because of your arrogance. Then, who will my father have to blame?”

But Ben isn’t perturbed in the least. “Settle in. I’ll order room service,” Ben smirks and shuts the door, laughing at Hux’s muffled, “There isn’t any room service!”

--

Brendol Hux docks his cruiser on the hidden, massive orbiting space station, the light from the faraway sun a pointed cusp warped around the station’s impervious shield. He’s been here countless times. As a boy, he accompanied his father here, before Chancellor Palpatine’s assassination. It’s where he meets with their leader.

Guards donning vibrant scarlet stand icicle-stiff, not acknowledging Brendol’s entrance. Brendol enters the main concourse and counts forty paces down the hall to the throne room.

Enter, comes the voice of his leader, ringing clearly like a bell from within his own head. The doors slide away. Brendol bows his head to Snoke, before his supreme commander of their growing legion. Snoke holds his massive head high, his claws forming fists against his arm rests.

“I appreciate you coming here in person. You know how devious the Republic can be. Always monitoring its systems’ communications,” Snoke grimaces.

Brendol stands straight. “The plan is in motion. It’s just as you’ve foreseen, my Lord. The Solo boy volunteered to stay on Arkanis until we find my son’s assailants.” If only Snoke could see the location of the men responsible, though he knows better than to ask.

“Is your son up to the task? Does he know how sensitive his mission will be?” Snoke asks, a thinly veiled threat. Snoke’s had his eyes and ears on Ben Solo-Skywalker since before he was born. He’s come to Ben in dreams, in trusted shapes and voices. Darkness pools deep within that boy. Darkness countered by the light, a potential particle collision.

“He’s aware, my Lord.”

When Brendol commed Armitage and told him to extract sensitive information from Ben, to gain his trust, to make Ben confide in him over the coming days, Armitage didn’t put up so much as a single retort. His son may have his shortcomings, but he knows how to lie.

Snoke smiles, sickly in the haloed light. “Good work, Commandant.”

“Thank you, my Lord.”

And so, it begins.

Chapter Text

Hux wasn’t surprised to hear his father’s true plans for Ben. It makes sense, really. Ben has the perfect position between Senate and civilian and Jedi. It’s for the good of the galaxy, their future order. You know he’s just using you, right? It’s what my father does, he’d told Ben. A perfect way to test Ben’s insecurities.

Hux lets Ben start dinner for him. It’s admittedly endearing how into the task Ben is. Within minutes one of the standard prepared meals is in the cooker, along with a kettle for tea bubbling on the stovetop.

“So, what is there to do around here? Got a deck of cards or something? A dejarik board?” Ben asks, partitioning their meals. He had helped Hux to his table, his pelvic bruising making every step agonizing. Hux hasn’t spoken once about his torture and Ben refuses to ask.

“No, and no,” Hux says primly.

“What do you do for fun?”

Hux glares at him. “I work.”

“For fun? They teach you what ‘fun’ means at your off-world boarding school?”

Hux ignores him, sifting around his meal. “They teach you how to shut up at the Jedi Temple?”

Ben laughs, musical and bright. The noise doesn’t fit in within the walls of Hux’s quarters. “Aw, Hux. Don’t get tired of me yet.”

“You’re asking for too much,” Hux grumbles, and Ben just laughs.

The first day of Ben’s new mission goes fine. Boring, but fine. Hux just rests and Ben sits in his front room area scoping the perimeter through the slit-like windows, practicing his form, and meditating. He meditates often to reach out and sense Hux’s mental and physical state. Hux mostly radiates boredom, too. The second and third days are even more boring. Ben’s running out of patience. At least Hux doesn’t need assistance walking anywhere.

Ben begins his next morning preparing a modest breakfast of rolled oats and fried eggs. Once that’s done, he makes more space in the living room to practice his breathing forms. They consist of stretching, bending, and standing on his forearms so that his untucked undershirt falls against his upside-down chin.

Hux chooses this moment to exit his bedroom. He falters at the expanse of Ben’s exposed, muscled abdomen, the dips of his hip bones that recede into his pants, and sculpted pectorals. Hux flushes, marching to the kitchen for some spiked caf. A thud alerts him that Ben’s landed on his feet.

“Good morning,” Ben smiles. “I made breakfast.”

“I can see that.” Hux sips his caf. If his father saw him now, he’d be sickened. Not just at his blatant ogling of Ben’s musculature, but his insistence at confronting Ben with every gripe and every insult. He’s supposed to be making Ben open up to him, not drive him away. He sets his caf down and begins to fix two plates.

Ben pads into the kitchen, delighted to see Hux serving him. “See, it’s not so bad being part of a team,” he smirks, because he’s insufferable.

Hux’s stomach flips. Ben is standing too close. “Well. Thank you for making breakfast. It would seem you are more useful than I originally thought.”

“Wow,” Ben chuckles.

Ben’s amusement might run out. Hux better get control of his mission. Any day may be the last day Ben’s here. “Let’s go out. I could show you some of the highlights of my city. If you think it wise, given what’s happened,” he adds, his meekness genuine. He may be spying on Ben, but his company is far more enjoyable than he’d care to admit.

“Really?” Ben gapes. “Yeah, I’d like that. As long as there’s not too thick of a crowd wherever you’re planning. There are too many opportunities for attacks.” Excitement builds when Hux nods, and he mulls over areas of interest for their first stop.

After breakfast, Hux shows Ben to his favorite art installation. It's a bold move but something tells him Ben will appreciate the change in atmosphere. The installation consists of a hundred large swooping arches suspended by repulsorlifts. Hux often comes down here to think. Not many people pass through here so it's the perfect combination of isolation and openness. Hux enjoys Ben’s enamored fascination with the architecture. He chose correctly.

“You wanted to design cities,” Ben says, interrupting Hux’s gaze upwards.

Hux purses his brow. How had Ben remembered? “That was a long time ago.”

“It would seem like it wasn't. This place is an architect’s dream.”

Hux circles Ben, boots clacking mutely against the duracrete. “What about your dreams? Your knighthood?”

Ben sulks. Clearly Hux struck a chord. “I was held back, you know. When a student graduates, they endure a set of trials as chosen by the Council. But they pushed mine back a year. For the second time.”

Hux nods, coveting the details for his father, but more so for himself. Ben isn't just his mission, he's the most captivating thing to cross his path in a long time. “Why would they, do you think?”

Ben shakes his head. “My master said it's so I could learn how to be a teacher before I become a knight. Which makes sense. It's just so frustrating. Being told everyone had been waiting for you to get your hopes up, then only to take it all away.”

“But you still trust them, after this?”

“I do,” Ben believes. “They're not only my people, but my family. Master Luke is my uncle, my mother’s twin brother. But he's like a father to me. As much as he frustrates me, I trust him.”

Hux comes closer, eying Ben’s regal profile. “What happened to your real father?”

As if struck, Ben glares at him. “Why?”

“I just…” Hux swallows, a genuine reaction to aid his manipulation. “I know you can see how my father is. I remember the last time we spoke, we talked about your father. I'm curious. Concerned.”

The way Ben looks at him—he would buckle if he wasn't trying so hard to remain upright. “You really do remember.”

Hux nods. “You were my friend.” Only just for a moment.

Ben melts like butter. This is everything he wanted. “I could still be your friend.”

Heat rises to Hux’s face. He's got to keep his mind in the game, on his mission. To milk Ben for every emotional and mental weakness. “I'd like that,” he says, and the words ring so true.

But Ben isn't ready to discuss his father just yet. It's alright. There's still time.

--

A week passes, and Brendol’s people are still unable to locate the threat. Ben's privately relieved. That means he'll be getting more alone time with Hux. Today, they're at a park. It was Ben’s idea.

“Your father called me. They've widened their investigation, but still no traction. So now’s not the time to start getting sick of me,” Ben smiles, passing Hux an umbrella to protect him from the Arkanian rain.

Hux nods. He already knew this would be what his father tells Ben, because he knows something Ben doesn't know. His father has already caught and executed his captors. They were dead since Ben’s first night here.

“I'll try to focus on all the good you've done me,” Hux tosses back.

“Oh? And what's that?” Ben smiles.

“You're an excellent event coordinator, for one. It’s a perfect day for a walk in the park,” Hux remarks, oozing with sarcasm.

Ben snickers. He laughs so much when he's with Hux. A selfish part of him hopes they never catch Hux’s assailants so they can snark in the rain together to their hearts’ content. “Mhm, what else?”

“You make great burnt eggs.”

Oh, that's low. “I told you, they burnt because I was meditating.”

“Sleeping.”

“Meditation requires a state of mind that's deeper than your average night of sleep,” Ben defends, then his tone sobers. “I sense darkness. It may be related to your capture. I'm not sure. Meditation allows me to see more than what’s in front of me.”

Now Hux knows Ben’s Force religion is just that, a religion. There's no one coming for him, not anymore. “Then what are we doing out here?”

“I can protect you,” Ben says, flashing his lightsaber hilt pinned under his cloak. “That's what my training is for. Sensing danger before it arrives.”

“I hope that's working for you,” Hux mutters. As if smacked by a hand delivered from a higher being, Hux slips on one of the patches of wet stone. He would have face-planted if not for Ben’s strong hands on his waist, righting him.

“You were saying?” Ben leers, far too close, his hands on Hux’s hips. The umbrella rod between them in Hux’s vice-like grip.

Hux pants, because Ben’s too close and he's still holding him upright. He'd ask Ben to let go of him but that would require words. In another heartbeat, Ben releases him.

Ben shakes off the abrupt, awkward encounter. Awkward due to the fact he didn't want to release Hux’s slim, docile hips. Instead of unpacking those foreign feelings, He finds solace in focusing on the Living Force around them. “See? Seems to be working just fine.”

That evening, he gets a comm call from Master Mara Jade. Hux is just settling in, setting up the kettle for tea while Ben sits on a cot Hux acquired for him on one of their first days together. Ben answers the call. It's a holo. Master Jade’s face is not the one he sees.

It's Rey. She greets him with an excited cheer. “Ben! Finally. You're so hard to reach.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Ben beams. “Where’s your mom?”

“Master. She's my master when we're in the Jedi Temple.”

“Semantics.”

“Whatever. She's in a Council meeting. Padawan Finn and I were watching a holo when he asked about you. I had to prove to him that you're not dead.”

Ben snorts. “Wow, Rey.”

“But seriously, where the heck are you? Master Luke said you're on a mission.”

“It's classified,” Ben jokes.

“Classified? Really, Ben?”

“Lives are at stake.”

“Quit it. I just get worried and Master Luke won't tell me. He said I should call you and ask. He's so weird sometimes. I'm glad he's not my master.”

“You do remember he's your dad, right?” Ben deadpans.

“Just tell me where you're at so I can stop worrying.”

Ben decides to stop being such an ass to his kid cousin. “Arkanis. I'm protecting a politician's son.”

Rey pauses for a moment. “Armitage Hux? Your only friend?”

Of course she'd remember. Rey is as sharp as a vibroblade. Ben snaps his head up, but from the small smirk, Hux has already heard. Ben turns back to the holo projector, red faced with embarrassment. “Thanks, Rey. He's standing right there. Now he thinks I have no friends.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed of,” Rey assures him.

“Alright, that's enough. I'll talk to you later. Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”

“He's not my boyfriend!” Rey exclaims, and Ben makes a sarcastic ‘oops’ face when he hears Finn’s muffled hollering in the background.

Hux teethes his lip. He gets unspeakably giddy when Ben inadvertently makes himself look foolish. “Who was that?”

“Rey, my little cousin. She's like my kid sister. She's only ten but she's already so attuned with the Force.”

“You sound jealous,” Hux comments.

Ben looks at him. It's so odd but after just a few days of cohabitation he trusts Hux with the most private of thoughts. He’s never had a real friend, someone who wanted to spend time with him. Ben steps into the kitchen. He's ready to get this heavy burden off his chest. “In many ways, I am. Luke, her father, never gave her a reason to doubt he cared about her and her mother.” Ben meets Hux's eyes. “I never had that.”

Hux pales, already dreading releasing this privileged information to his father. In hidden retaliation, Hux parts with some of his own secrets. Brendol would no doubt disapprove.  

“I never knew my mother. My real mother, not my father's wife. My father told me she died, but years ago, when I was a teenager I had these dreams she was alive. But my father told me it was just my wishful thinking. My mind deluding myself. He said he watched her die in childbirth, and that was that.”

Breathing in through his nose, Ben tucks himself into Hux's space. Never in his life had he been so transparent with another, and never in his life had he truly been confided in. “Do you believe she's alive?”

“It doesn't matter what I believe. She's dead.”

“But what do you believe?” Ben tries.

What does he? That his father lied to him? It's not unlikely or out of character in the least. “I know what you're trying to do.”

“What?”

“Give me hope. False hope.” Hux turns away. “I don't need anyone to fix me. Certainly not some Jedi who can't even get knighted.”

Ben doesn't allow Hux's words to sting. “And I know what you're trying to do. Well, pushing me away won't work. You're my only friend, remember?”

Something deep in Hux’s chest shatters, a dormant eruption of repressed feeling. He pointedly keeps his eyes from Ben’s lest he see right through him. That night, Hux types out his message of everything he learned from Ben today for his father. His heart breaks when he hits send.

--

“This is it,” Hux tells Ben from the inside of his Hux leads them to the other side of the city where the duracrete tapers off to grassland. One of Arkanis’s oldest landmarks is an ancient dam that once held back the waters of the sea. Part of it stands as tall as it once had over two thousand years ago. Back then sea levels were higher and more volatile, and due to scientific innovations, the system was purged of the extraneous, unwanted waters. Since Hux was a child, he loved coming down here to the ancient dam. So much strength in its form, after over two millennia. He wishes he could build something with such an admirable longevity. But his training is in weapons manufacturing. Bombs and laser canons, precisely. All his creations are fated to destroy.

“It’s magnificent,” Ben gasps. “How old is it?”

“Over two thousand years.”

“Sheesh. I’m almost afraid to ask what it’s made of.”

“It’s not just the material, but it’s how we used it back then. Now, all my father wants to do is find new ways to blow shit up,” Hux complains. Too personal, but that’s how all his and Ben’s conversations go.

“You’re so much more than I ever—than I remember you being,” Ben confesses, his heart shining the purest of light. “I’m almost glad to have my trials delayed. If they hadn’t, I may have never reconnected with you.”

Hux gapes, wide eyes darting all around Ben’s open, earnest face. His wind burnt cheeks, his dark, wild hair. His full lips, twitching with feeling. Dark, lustful thoughts bubble up, and Hux turns away to hide himself from Ben and the two-thousand-year-old dam.

“You reveal too much,” Hux says shakily, and in a way scolding himself. If Ben hadn’t been such a damned bleeding heart, he wouldn’t have had to spy on Ben like he’s a tool. Like he’s using him. He doesn’t want that to be his relationship with Ben. He wants—he wants—

He wants so much more.

Hells, Ben’s Force religion better not have any substance to it because he wouldn’t be able to cower his feelings from Ben’s persistence. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let himself be taken by this boy so easily? His father had beaten him and scorned him when he discovered his illicit videos of strictly male-on-male pornography. What would he think of him now, lusting and longing after not only another man, but a Jedi and the mark for their agenda?

Even if Ben had wanted him in all the filthy, depraved ways Hux wanted him, how could they possibly carry a relationship? His conservative culture will not stand for it, just as Ben’s won’t. It’s not in the stars. It’s an unreachable dream, just like this fucking dam.

“My father is a smuggler,” Ben confesses, misreading Hux’s shame for boredom. “He travels the galaxy breaking Republic law. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. It would embarrass my mother,” he scoffs. “He was hardly around growing up. Always running from us. It was like being Han Solo came first and being a part of the family was always second. He didn’t even show up when Rey was born.”

Hux shakes off his inner turmoil, immersing himself in Ben’s pain. “I used to think I was destined to be an adventurer like him. I thought one day he’d take me with him and we’d see every system. Live as outlaws, fly around in his freighter getting chased by bad guys and getting the jump on them. But then I realized that I didn’t want to be an outlaw. I wanted him to just be home.”

“I’m sorry,” Hux whispers.

“Thank you,” Ben says. “I think that’s why I like being here so much. It feels good to be wanted.” At Hux’s widening eyes, Ben quickly amends, “For protection, I mean. It’s a lot better than running around the Jedi Temple waiting for Master Luke to give me a chore with the other Padawan.”

Ben’s sincerity, his honesty. He can’t take it anymore. “Let’s go. I’m tired,” Hux whines.

“But we just got here.”

Hux turns for the ship without so much as a counter argument. Is it something he said? Too bad Hux is as closed off as ever, his walls tougher and taller than the walls of this dam. Begrudgingly, Ben guides them back home. Hux dismisses himself silently, holing away in his room behind his sealed door. Ben gathers what’s left of his pride and spends the remainder of the evening meditating.

Still, everything in his heart tells him that he’s meant to be here, forging a genuine, human relationship with someone so similar to him. It isn’t a matter of if he’ll stay a part of Hux’s life, but how.

Chapter Text

“Our court will be hosting the anniversary gala. It’s important you attend this time. I don’t want another mishap like last year,” Brendol tells his son via comm. Hux takes advantage of the voice-only call and glares to the wall in front of him. Ben is in his kitchen cooking one of his many talent-filled dishes. Hux is going to miss them when he leaves, eventually. It’ll ache when he’s alone once more.

“You have your strength back, yes?” continues his father.

“I do. But Ben may not think it’s wise. He still thinks I’ve got a target on my back.” Ben’s so dutiful, so protective. If only he knew he was befriending a liar.

“I’m sure you’ll convince him,” Brendol says. “You’ve done well these past few weeks, Armitage. Our leader senses the changes you’ve had a hand in.” Brendol’s tone darkens to graveness. “Our leader will be planetside for the festivities and has specifically requested Ben be there. It’s up to you to make that happen.”

Nausea rises, a heavy sickness. Their leader, who Hux has never met or seen, whose name is never spoken or known. Father always told him in due time will their leader reveal himself. For now, their leader is a complete mystery to him. “Yes, Father. It won’t be a problem.”

That evening, Hux tells Ben about the gala. His heart flutters freely at Ben’s fidgeting excitement.

“I don’t need to tell you how important this is to my father. I have to be there, which means I’ll need extra protection.”

“What are your people celebrating?” Ben asks, giddily going over the prospects of a real party away from the Jedi and the Republic, away from Master Luke’s prying. He can’t wait to be a knight when every day can be his own.

“It’s the anniversary of my father and his men overthrew the previous owners of this citadel,” Hux informs him. “The coup was far from nonviolent, but this organization likes to gloss over that with galas and whatever other publicity stunts it sees fit to perform.”

“You sound like you don’t even want to be a part of them. Let alone attend their parties,” Ben says lowly.

“I just don’t understand the cloak and dagger. The veil. It’s infuriating, and I don’t have the patience for most of it,” Hux defends.

“My grandmother always said that half of being a politician was your exterior.”

Hux glares at Ben’s expertly crafted soup. “Well, I’m sick of the faceting. Just once I’d like to be a part of something that didn’t have to hide its hand.”

Ben doesn’t know what to make of Hux’s confession. “I hope you still want to attend the gala. It’s been getting a little stuffy in here with you breathing out all this hot air,” Ben jokes. “Though I’m concerned about the crowds.”

Whenever Ben teases him, his loins and cheeks warm and he wishes there was a way he could ask for more. Teasing, mocking, it doesn’t matter, as long as he has Ben’s attention.

“Please, Ben. Whoever attacked me would be stupid to do it again in front of the entire Arkanian military. Besides, I know you'll protect me.” Hux aims for teasing, but he's just doing that thing where he uses the truth like a mask, like it would be deceiving to believe him.

Surprising them both, Ben flushes. “I can tell you're patronizing me, but it's been weeks and you haven't been kidnapped again. Not that I'm keeping score,” he shrugs.

Hux shakes his head. He's really gonna miss having Ben around when his father inevitably discards him like a used tissue.

--

The following night is the gala. It's a night Hux will carry with him in the coming days. The beginning of the end.

Hux readies himself in his bedroom, dressing in his standard issue dress uniform. While on his father’s imposed leave to spy on Ben, Hux hadn't kept up with his military training, unlike Ben who never seemed to sit still. Hux finds his thoughts traveling to memories of Ben’s stretching and body weight exercises. It's been a very memorable time in his life.

“How do I look?” Ben asks when Hux steps out into the common-area. He’s freshly showered and smells like Hux’s shampoo and soap.

“You’re in the same outfit as you’ve always been,” Hux says to disguise his burning lust.

“Hey. You’re lucky I washed it.”

Animatedly, Hux rolls his eyes and fixes his hair one last time feeling Ben’s eyes on him. He’d be fooling himself if he thought Ben wanted him as he does. Ben’s told him time and time again how much he values their friendship.

When Hux is ready to be escorted, Ben trails behind him a step as if Hux is his superior officer. Hux balks at the mental image because as if Ben would ever be his subordinate.

At the gala, Ben observes the thickening crowds for threats. Anyone who so much as looks at him wrong gets a stern glare. Ben has been taking his mission very seriously. He’s also learned that Hux is a very skilled speaker among social groups, both underlings and elders. One day, he’ll make an excellent politician. If he ever graduates from his ambiguously titled ‘academy,’ which may have even a higher selective process than the Jedi Order.

All in all, the evening is pleasantly stagnant. When it comes to eating, Ben remembers his best etiquette for gatherings such as these. Eating while on the job makes him feel childish so he’ll wait to eat at Hux’s quarters.

From nowhere, a beckoning pull drives Ben’s attention to a large, empty hall. No one else senses the shift. They shouldn’t, for this shift is within the Force. Its energy is rhythmic, familiar like a reoccurring dream. He doesn’t have time to dissect this offsetting energy because Hux is conferring with his father, Brendol Hux, who he hasn’t seen since the first day of his mission.

“Ben, my boy,” Brendol greets him warmly. “I’m grateful to see my Armitage here in good spirits.”

“Of course, Sir. He’s doing um, well,” Ben says awkwardly. It’s strange talking about Hux like he isn’t just standing there, posture perfect, face beautifully blank.

“I’ll need to borrow him. He’ll meet you outside within the hour,” Brendol speaks for him, and he doesn’t need to tell Hux where to go. He follows.

Ben wavers in the surreal moment. Hux is normally so decisive. It breaks his heart to see him pushed around into passivity. He can’t believe he ever mistook Brendol for a good father, after the hitting and the verbal abuse he witnessed. Ben withdraws to the outside patio, longing for it to be just the two of them again. He’ll be sure to listen when Hux mentions his father. He’ll be sure to offer help, even if Hux doesn’t want it.

--

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Armitage,” rasps the elderly, deformed humanoid before him. His father finally brought him to meet their leader. Snoke. However, this grotesque, withered man before him was not what he expected. Hux shudders impulsively. Could he even call this thing a man? “Mind your thoughts. They betray you.”

“I—I’m sorry, Sir,” Hux bows his head, mortified. His father coils beside him. Do not embarrass me, he feels his father project, an ever-permanent scolding. “Snoke. Sir Snoke,” he punctuates.

But Snoke doesn’t waste time on earthly matters. “You’ve been getting to know our progeny, Ben Solo, have you not? What do you think of him?”

Progeny? How could this man possibly know Ben? “He’s a fine warrior. Very driven.”

Snoke shifts in his chair, considering Hux’s simplified divulsion. “Your father and I have had are sights on young Solo since he was born. It is foreseen he’ll make perfect addition to our organization.”

“On Arkanis?” Hux asks stupidly.

“Not your organization. But a future one. A new galactic order.”

Hux’s eyes widen. Galactic order? Domination?

True power?

“Yes, this entices you, doesn’t it?” Snoke croons. “I’ve requested your father bring Ben in himself, but when he found out you had a connection to him, we re-strategized. We are putting our trust in you, Armitage.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down. I’m prepared to do anything,” he says, trying so hard to mean every breath. Thankfully, Snoke doesn’t see any deception.

Snoke angles his chin high, peering down his nose. “Good.” With that, Snoke begins to divulge their next course of action against the Jedi and the Republic. The farther he goes, the farther Hux falls from the turning point.

--

Ben’s intercepted by Hux within the hour, as Brendol commanded. Immediately, Ben is on him. “Everything alright?”

Hux all but glares. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Or feel it. I can sense it,” Ben says haughtily. It’s for Hux’s own good. He looks around at the passing politicians. “Is there somewhere private we can sit?”

Hux swallows. Wordlessly, he takes them to a secluded courtyard down by the moon glittering pools. His lies, the source of his torment, threaten to bubble up and spill over. Gods, he’s being torn apart. How’s he supposed to choose between Ben—his pathetic, one-sided longing of Ben—and his father? His future?

They find a seat confined by stout brick posts. No one is going to interrupt them here. “What happened? What did he say to you?”

Hux is quiet for a heavy moment, the space around them filled with the breeze of a well-kept courtyard, void of life other than trees and bushes. Ben waits patiently, studying the faint freckling of Hux’s cheeks that wasn’t there before they spent all those afternoons in the park.

“I trust my father. My whole life, I trusted him. Even when he was—strict. I trusted him and what he was doing for me,” Hux begins. He can’t believe what he’s admitting. “But now…I’m afraid to go against him. I shouldn’t even be considering it. It’s unthinkable.”

Ben scoots close. “Whatever it is, trust yourself first.”

“You don’t understand.”

Ben shakes his head. “I’ve gone against my parents, many things they don’t even know about. I’ve had…angry, selfish thoughts about them. My father, especially. It’s against everything I believe in, but the feelings were there.”

“Ben—”

Ben’s enlivened by a strange, fierce protectiveness. When he sees Hux, he sees those wide, shocked eyes, the torment knitting his brow. He sees his pain and he wants to end everyone who dared to put it there. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I’m here for you. You’re more than just a mission, understand?”

Hux cowers. He can’t take this anymore. The dam breaks. “I’ve been lying to you,” Hux whispers. “So many lies, Ben.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand. 

“Your mission’s a farce. My father caught the men who captured me the day I was taken. He found out about our history and exploited it. He’s instructed me to spy on you. To tell him everything.”

Ben gapes. What the fuck?

“I met my father’s leader tonight. Snoke. He’s some old wizard or something, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they want to use you for your power. You have to get away from here as soon as possible. You have to stay away from my father. He’s dangerous—”

“So, all this,” Ben grates, his foundations crumbling. “All this…has been a lie?”

Hux’s face twists. “It hasn’t all been a lie,” he tries. So pathetic.

“What do they want with me?” Ben growls, furious. What the hell is going on? Who is Snoke? “You told them everything? Everything?” His heart breaks. “All this time, you’ve only—I thought you cared about what I had to say. I thought you listened to me because you wanted to.”

“I did. I still do. That’s why I’m telling you now. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You still did it,” Ben snaps, so heartbroken. Why does this hurt so much?

“I didn’t want to. My father made me.”

“Get a backbone, will you?” Ben snaps, reactionary.

Stricken, Hux recoils in horror and shame. There’s no fixing this. Void of a tell, Hux twists and stands to leave. Ben jumps after him, instantly regretting his cruel, low blow.

“Wait, please. Please don’t go,” Ben implores. It’s enough to make Hux stop but not enough to turn him around. “I’m sorry, I’m just angry. And hurt.”

Hux says nothing. Silence is his defense and words are his offense, as it always has been.

“I thought I finally found someone who saw me,” Ben laments. “I thought I saw you.”

Hux turns and meets his eyes. There’s so much there. Anger, hurt, impassioned and backlit with something more. “You do,” Hux whispers. “You’ve looked at me in ways I never—” Hux’s throat closes around his confession. Ben’s there, leaning close, desperate for the conclusion.

Ben lurches in Hux’s space, who’s tethered as if suspended in a swell of Force manipulated energy. But there’s nothing holding him there besides Ben’s stare, his labored breath. He’s never felt passion like this. Hux’s deception, his lies. That carefully painted picture of their perfect companionship broadened past its edges. Only Hux could make him feel like this. His body’s been taken over by foreign, heated desires.

The space between them narrows to nonexistence when Ben leans forward to steal Hux’s breath. His mouth hangs slack over Hux’s shock-still one. A fierce, untamed heat rises within and he pushes for a taste. He’s never kissed anyone before, let alone another man. But once he gets that taste, he craves more.

Hux trembles against him. His brain blanks, tongue obsessed with the hot, forbidden feeling of kissing. Kissing Ben. Ben is kissing me. When Ben’s tongue slips between his lips, he whines in a shaky breath and claws his fingers into Ben’s shoulders. Come closer, please, he begs without words. I need you closer.

Taking the lead, fulfilling every new, frazzled demand of his body, Ben pushes him bodily into the closest surface: a stone wall. Blood pulses in his ears when Hux caresses his hair and loosening his jaw for his persistent tongue. Hux is so perfectly wet and warm, tastes sweet like untouched skin. It takes his breath away, and he drowns.

They’re panting by the time they part. Desperately, Hux calls for answers. “Why did you do that?” he hisses.

Ben touches Hux’s face, thumb on his plump, moistened bottom lip. “Why did you do it back?”

Hux swallows, welcoming Ben’s touch. “I’ve never been kissed before,” he whispers.

“Neither have I,” Ben answers truthfully. They share giddy grins. “You liked it?”

Hux nods, tears swelling in his eyes. He can’t properly meter his emotions. “Ben, I’m so sorry I lied to you.”

“I see clearer now. I know you thought you were doing what was right,” Ben says truthfully. “But I’ll have to tell the Council about this Snoke. He’s foolish enough to think he can turn me against my people, I’ll end his plan before it starts.” Who the hell is Snoke, anyway? The Jedi are his life, his identity and birthright. One person whispering in his ear isn’t gonna change that.

“I know. I know you’ll have to do what you have to do.” Even if it means starting an all-out war on his home, possibly resulting in him and his father being tried for treason against the Republic. As enticing as the potential power was, he knew the consequences of revealing everything to Ben.

From the solemnness in Ben’s eyes, he must be thinking the same thing. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I can handle things here.” Hux just can’t believe Ben still cares about him, that he kissed him. He hopes he’ll be able to kiss him again.

Darkening with a dangerous brand of possessiveness, Ben gently cups Hux’s jaw and plants a kiss to his gasping lips. He parts with a sloppy pop. He doesn’t want to think of what he’ll have to face in outing Brendol and in turn, outing Hux. For now, he loses himself in Hux’s shallow breaths, the perfect little noises he makes when he rolls their tongues together. 

The Council doesn’t have to know about Brendol’s treasonous plans, nor does the Republic. He can’t risk bringing Hux down with Brendol. How could he, when Hux has been pushed into this life since he was a child? It would be sick and unfair. Unjust.

He’ll deal with the traitors himself before they can ever follow through. And most importantly, Hux will be safe. Neither Brendol, Snoke, Republic law, nor the Jedi Council’s highest ruling, could ever take Hux from him.

There will not be a force in this realm that could keep them apart.

Chapter Text

Hux’s heart pulses wildly when they're alone in his rooms. He's imagining so many unspeakable, incredible ends to the night. If Ben hadn't been so forward, Hux wouldn't have made the first move and would never have felt so important in Ben's embrace. So wanted. Under Ben’s kisses, it's like there's nothing else. No Brendol, no Snoke, no impossible dream of galactic domination, no impending failure. There's just Ben and him, and it's perfect.

This is bliss, Hux thinks, when Ben takes charge and paws at his hips. He kisses like he's fighting for the right to do so. But what Ben needs to understand is that he'll never have to doubt Hux wants him. He trembles as Ben feels for his collar’s clasp. Ben wants to see what's underneath. The formal wear is stripped, as is his undershirt, leaving him bare.

“You're gorgeous,” Ben murmurs, experimenting with a kiss to his pale neck. Hux gasps at the new, mesmerizing sensation. Lustful heat suffocating him would be a perfect, pure way to die.

Ben grows bolder, kissing and caressing, but they inevitably hit a barrier with the physicality they want to share. Ben flushes with embarrassment. He doesn’t really know what to do next. He’s never done anything like this before.

Hux senses Ben’s hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

“The Jedi aren’t known for their sex education,” he attempts to joke, but Hux feels his underlying shame. “I know that I want you. I just don’t know how…”

“Neither have I,” Hux urges. “Arkanis has a conservative culture. Men here aren’t encouraged to act on their…impulses.” Their wrong, perverted impulses, goes unsaid, but naturally, Ben senses it. “I’ve always known that I would never marry a woman. But when I saw you again, after years, so much of what I repressed bubbled back up.”

“You had a crush on me?” is what Ben takes away from his confession. Because he’s insufferable.

Far too wrapped up in Ben’s charm, Hux smiles. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. And now that their shared inexperience is out in the open, Hux surmounts his trepidation and bravely tears at Ben’s robes. He swallows at Ben’s impeccable chest underneath his fingers. “Let’s go to my room,” he whispers.

Ben and he fall into his bed with Ben on top, rubbing him through his pants. He eats up every moan and whimper that make him harder than he’s ever been. Hux brings his shaky fingers to his cock, revels in his size and warmth. Overcome with an urge that can’t be quelled once he has it in his mind, Hux kisses Ben’s chest and scoots down the bed and positions himself so there’s no mistaking what he wants.

“Fuck, are you sure?” Ben gasps, wide eyed. He doesn’t have to ask to know Hux wants to suck him off. The greens of his eyes are crying for it, rings stretched around fat pupils.

Hux swallows, unclipping Ben’s fastener and groping his immodest cock. “I want to. I really want to,” he breathes. “Only if you do.”

Like hell he would turn Hux down for anything. Ben nods, taking Hux’s delicate nape of his neck under his wide palm.

When Hux bares him, the chill of Hux’s fingers startle his overheated, aroused flesh. But Hux spares no more time. His mouth is a perfect suction, already maddening and he’s only taken a simple taste to the tip.

“Holy hell,” Ben pants, unable to take his eyes of Hux’s stretched lips as he fits him deeper, the beautiful pinch of his brow as he discovers this new, mesmerizing first time with him. Whatever Hux can’t fit in his mouth, he tightens with a fist, pumping and pulling with every lap and suck. Hux whimpers as if his cock is the one that’s getting the attention, every fiber of him into it as Ben is.

Impulsively, Ben shucks his hips forward, causing Hux to gag and his wet, slobbery lips pop off in protest, more shocked than anything.

“Sorry,” Ben wheezes.

“It’s okay. I liked it,” he admits, feeling so brave confessing his inner most desires. With Ben, he can share anything. He squeezes Ben’s cock, marveling at the delectable rise and fall of Ben’s chest “Will you put your hand in my hair?”

The soft, shy way Hux asks this sends awe and adoration through his heart. He’s so far gone. He nods, enraptured. He loses all control when Hux is on him once more, how achingly sweet his moans are with Ben’s fist in his hair. Only a few more strokes and Ben shoots into his mouth with a resounding fuck! Hux throws himself into it, sucking him through his orgasm until Ben slides away, too overstimulated both sensationally and mentally.

Hux wipes his sloppy face on his used hand and catches his breath, ogling Ben for confirmation of success, as if this was a first of many cock-sucking graded assignments. Ben’s eyes are unfocused, but he looks far from disappointed. Then, Ben meets him full on, and Hux barely registers the overwhelmed tears in his eyes before Ben tugs him to the bed, teeth scraping deliciously at his neck and shoulder.

“You’re incredible,” Ben professes. His heart tells him he should say more, but it’s enough to make Hux’s beautiful smile brighten his face. Ben tugs down Hux’s trousers and once he gets permission he frees Hux’s erection. For all Hux’s slightness, he’s quaintly proportioned, and sweetly colored with a fierce blush. Ben hopes his enthusiasm makes up for his lack of finesse. He takes Hux into his mouth, committing to memory Hux’s groans and his salt-saccharine warmth.

Hux spreads and contracts his legs with every electric ebb of pleasure, his thighs bracketing Ben’s shaggy, black hair. Ben has a seemingly easier time fitting his cock in his mouth, whether it be his shorter length or Ben’s jaw size, he doesn’t care, so long as he keeps it up. Ben’s hands find his hips, his ass, and he quakes from the overload of attention. After several bobs of Ben’s head and his bruising grip on his hips, Hux comes around a muted squeak.

It’s minutes later when Ben moves from his heavy grip on Hux’s thin waist. He returns from the refresher with a damp towel, his toothbrush, and a cup for spitting. If there’s any good in this universe reserved for him, he’d find it in Ben.

--

“How are things?” Leia asks her son, her hologram fluttering from the shoddy connection.

Ben slept in Hux’s bed last night but decided to give him space the next morning. Hux woke with a private, standoffish gleam in his eye. He thought it best to steer clear until he can properly communicate to Hux how he feels. How does he feel? The answer: far too much.

“It’s going good.” He bites his tongue on Brendol Hux’s betrayal and conspiracy to work against their democracy. He’ll handle it privately. Anything else poses too much of a risk against Hux.

“You’ve been gone almost a month, Ben. It can’t all be good,” she says slyly.

“It’s mostly just like. Waiting around. I’m a bodyguard, nothing more,” he fibs. “How’s Luke?”

“You can ask him yourself.”

“Ugh, you two are so alike. It’s infuriating,” he mock-groans. “Always trying to facilitate.”

“Facilitate?”

“You know what I mean.” Ben’s ears perk up when Hux’s shower mutes.

Leia hesitates on what she plans on telling him next. “Your father called. He wants to visit you soon. It’s been almost a year since you spent any real time with him.”

Ben darkens. “Not my problem.”

“Don’t you want to see him? When you were young, you always wanted to spend time with him.”

He hears Hux’s faint footsteps pad around his bedroom behind the closed door. “I gotta go, Ma.”

She signs off with an I-love-you and Ben parrots it in return. How can she fail to dissect his obvious bitterness? Does she just not want to see him for his true self: a cold, resentful son? It hardly matters now. There’s no changing the past, no matter how much she wishes it could.

Ben knocks gently on Hux’s sealed door. When he blankly welcomes him inside, Ben stifles the hurt. They shared so much last night, emotionally, physically. It aches to be brushed off.

“Sleep well?” Ben asks Hux’s nude back.

Hux turns a shower-damp cheek. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Ben bristles. “Where would I go?”

“Your Republic is in danger.”

“I’ll handle it without dragging you into it. I promise.”

“Why?” he exasperates, turning around.

Cautiously, Ben steps in his space. Hux lets him, accepts his tantalizing touch. “Do you really have to ask?”

Hux shivers at Ben’s lips trailing across his bare shoulder. “Ben…”

“Don’t,” Ben shushes him. “I want to be here.”

Hux gasps when Ben tugs him into his steely arms, pressing at his crotch, the swell of his ass. Last night, he lost control. He let him in. He ignored his father’s comm call and allowed Ben to erase all that he’s worked for, the trust he’s built with his father and with his father’s allies. All for this perfect, entrapping embrace.

Surrendering, Hux swivels around and meets Ben mouth to mouth, nails grating against Ben’s thick, dark hair. Nothing has ever felt so good, so fucking real. It’s beyond him how he lucked out in finding Ben. Fuck, he’s hard again. Ben paws at his ass, kneading the malleable flesh through his shorts. He wants so much, prays to whoever can hear him that Ben wants him just as much.

Ben tongues into him, muffling all his debauched noises. He massages Hux’s curved hips and grins against Hux’s helpless gyrations against him. It’s then he realizes that he’d do just about anything to find a way to bring Hux back to Coruscant with him. They’d have a private residence far from the Temple where they’d greet each other with wet, feverish kisses.

Hux melts under Ben’s stern hands. Fantasies surface of being touched and teased between his legs like how he’s seen in his destroyed collection of pornographic videos. He’s seen men large and small make love to other men, their partners willingly and enthusiastically spreading their legs or bending at the waist to give and receive pleasure.

The thought of Ben entering him so intimately, so completely, fills him with a desire that burns hotter than the rare Arkanian summer sun. How could this be something Ben would know how to do, or even want to do for him? He shrinks inward and pulls back to meet Ben’s heavy-lidded gaze.

“You okay?” Ben asks, always so concerned.

Hux swallows his rolling anxiety. “There are some…things that I’ve thought about. Things I’ve always wanted to do.” Ben, so adorably naïve, purses his brow in concentration and waits for Hux to confess. Instead of using his words, Hux takes Ben’s hand and guides it back to his backside and brings his fingertips to the fabric concealing his cheeks.

Ben’s eyes comically widen. “You want that?”

Hux nods, gathering fragile courage. “I have supplies. Some nights I use my fingers. I’ve never had anyone else, you know—”

“Fuck you?” Ben leers. Once he’s imagined it, the fantasy rages rampantly.

“Yes,” he blushes. “I want it to be you.”

Overcome, Ben drives his immodest nose into Hux’s neck, inhaling his comely scent. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Oh Ben, the way you see me. I want to be that for you. I want to be perfect. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a fucking yes,” Ben groans.

Hux’s heart soars then dives in fear. But it’s a full, necessary fear that Ben’s gonna change him. He wants it so badly. He wants Ben to make him his.

He passes Ben his hidden bottle of lubricant. His father’s head would explode if he ever found it. He can’t even imagine what his father would do if he found out he and Ben had had sex. They don’t have any sheaths, but they’ve never been exposed to disease, thankfully. Hux’s fingers tremble as Ben peels off his shorts.

They lie naked on Hux’s slim bed. Ben positions him on his stomach, says it may be the most comfortable and it’ll feel good with his cock messing his sheets and his face in his pillow. It’s not the most relaxing position, Hux discovers, face down and at Ben’s mercy. But he finds that he trusts him with his pleasure, as he trusts him with his body. Ben’s every bit as new to this as he is.

The bed creaks as Ben finds space behind him and eases his knees apart. He blushes when Ben caresses him and compliments his pallor and shameful softness. With Ben, he’s allowed to be soft, he’s allowed to cry and moan and let his heart pull him in every difficult direction. The lubricant bottle squelches from Ben’s grip and Hux all but spasms when Ben prods at his cheeks with an oiled finger.

“Feel free to kick me in the face or whatever if I hurt you,” Ben jokes, but Hux can hear his underlying trepidation.

“Alright, but I may just kick you for stalling,” Hux fires back, eager to feel him. He makes small noises as Ben touches him between his legs, starts to feel his hole. His eyes boggle when Ben breaches him with a blunt fingertip, and he spreads his knees and covers his flushed face. He truly trusts Ben in a way he’s never trusted another. Ben feels inside him with his slick, long finger in act so forbidden he risks cowering away from him completely.

Ben carefully moves his finger back and forth, then slowly adds another. He studies Hux’s reactions because hurting Hux is the last thing he wants to do.

Hux turns his cheek to find Ben’s lust darkened eyes. “More,” he whines, flushed all over. Ben obliges with a third finger and the burn is so sharp that he bucks forward from the intrusion.

“You okay?” Ben asks, startled.

“I’m fine. Just keep going.” He needs Ben inside him.

Ben manages a fourth finger, fucking him with half his hand until Hux’s backside is completely slick and as stretched as he can make it. He’s already obsessed with the tightness of him around his hand, and he has only moments before he’ll find out how sweetly Hux takes his cock. Overcome, Ben sparks an idea.

“Can you lie on your back?” Ben asks once his fingers are out of him. I want to see you.

Hux swallows, the crux of him moved by Ben’s fervency. Wordlessly, he complies. Getting into position is intuitive enough. He lies on his back and parts his knees, heart racing through his chest. The way Ben’s looking at him moves beyond adoration. He can’t put a name to it and it scares him in the best of ways.

Ben crawls between Hux’s legs. “You sure?”

Hux nods. “I trust you,” he confesses before he can stop himself. He’s rewarded with a naked, earnest look from Ben. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he’s made the right choice.

With a trembling hand, Ben slicks himself up, all under Hux’s scrutiny. Face-to-face, Hux will see everything he’s been hiding under his skin. He prays Hux won’t reject what he finds. Taking a deep breath, Ben prods his cockhead to Hux’s spread cheeks, and pushes in. Hux gapes with a mixture of awe, shock, confusion as Ben spears into him, choking on the burn. He sweats it out like a fever, pinning his legs to his chest for Ben’s access. Fuck, it burns, it aches. It’s all Ben. It’s perfect.

“Fuck,” Ben hisses, bottoming out. He crushes Hux when his elbows buckle, sending his legs to spread further and their noses to bump. Ben has yet to thrust. They’re only breathing. Hux sucks out all his stifling air in a binding kiss.

“You okay?” Ben croaks once Hux releases his mouth. “This feel okay?”

“Yes, Ben. Just—move if you can.” I need it. I need you.

Ben gasps when he begins to fuck him, his muscles protesting at the new range of motion. They’re connected in a way they’ve never been. Hux claws at his shoulders, nose burrowing in Ben’s hair as he surrenders to Ben’s thrusts that grow more confident with every low grunt. Ben’s groans pepper his throat and his stretched legs sway with the succinct rocking.

Ben’s so full and long, an accelerant to his fire. Hux moans as Ben’s cock nestles deep and pulls out in long, sensual angles that drive him mad with want.

“Yes,” Hux whispers, urging Ben on with a pair of sharp heels into Ben’s ass. Encouraged, Ben adjusts his position and finds leverage against the headboard. Ben’s thrusts dominate him and spread him thin.

Overwhelmed, Ben’s eyes cloud with tears. He hides the dampness in the pulse-point on Hux’s straining neck. He can’t do much else but groan and grunt and fuck into Hux as the pressure builds. Hux is between them, pumping his own cock. He must be close. Ben gives in to whatever left he’s got pent up and fucks him deep as Hux’s fingernails scrape his scalp.

Ben looks up just in time to catch the beautiful, pained bliss painting Hux’s features as he spasms around him and slickens their bellies with come. When he fills Hux up with a whimper, everything around them seems so small. The Jedi, the Republic, the masked men pushing and shoving them around—they’re all so in inconsequential to him. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else, do anything else, but be with Hux.

Ben gasps, catching his breath. Hux isn’t looking at him but at the ceiling. His slight rib cage is soft under Ben’s wandering hand. By now, Ben’s pulled out of him and nestled against Hux’s side, breathing in his skin. This is true peace.

Hux breaks the silence. “I didn’t call my father last night.”

“Would you have told him what you told me?” That you were spying on me? Betraying my trust? is what Hux hears.

“Hells, I would be beaten to a pulp if I told him that,” Hux tries to joke, but it falls flat. His father has broken his bones, bruised him enough to inhibit walking, and berated him until he couldn’t feel nor care about the physical pain.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Ben vows.

Hux bristles. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” Ben asserts, sitting up. “I don’t care if he’s your father. He’ll live to regret hurting you.”

Hux swallows, on the verge of tears. “Just because you fucked me doesn’t mean you understand what I’ve been through, and what I’d do to keep what I have,” Hux snaps. Instantly, he regrets scorning Ben. He loathes to be the one to put shame and self-loathing wilting Ben’s features. “I can handle myself,” he softens. “I don’t need some knight in shining armor to rescue me.”

Ben says nothing. Instead of giving to Hux’s whims, he silently promises to betray Hux’s wishes. No matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Later that evening, Ben is at the dam ruins with Hux, watching him read. Hux loves to sit by the shore while on leave. His time with Ben—his father’s imposed spying mission—has been his longest bout of leave since he graduated. Lately Brendol Hux had not permitted Hux do anything else but serve their military, his talents used in their space station orbiting the planet, a haven for Arkanian research and development.

“So how do you plan to overthrow my father?” Hux asks nonchalantly. After learning of Brendol’s imminent plans to thwart Republic rule, Ben’s told him he has no intent on going to the Senate or even the Jedi. He’s made no move toward anything at all. Except on him. He and Ben have intimately learned each other’s bodies last night and this morning. He shivers from the memory of Ben’s come filling him. If only he could be filled like that every night.

“There is no plan. As long as I stay away from him and his leader Snoke, nothing will happen,” Ben says, sure of himself. “My loyalty is with the Republic and the Jedi. And with you.”

Hux sets his datapad in his lap. “What if I asked you to turn?” Hux asks, a challenge.

Ben smirks and bends in for a kiss. “I’d find a way for us to both get what we want,” Ben says lowly. There’s always a way, even if he hasn’t found it yet.

The danger lurking in Ben’s eyes sends pulses of heat to Hux’s groin. Already fluent in reading Hux’s needs, Ben kisses him deeply, taking the datapad from his lap and replacing it with a teasing hand. Boldly, Ben paws at his zipper and Hux pulls away with a wet pop.

“Here? We’re outside!”

Ben smirks. “Doesn’t that turn you on?”

Hux replies with a kiss, branding Ben with purpose. When Ben takes him in his mouth, Hux teethes at his fist to keep quiet. He’s never seen others come down this way, but this is public property. Anyone could walk in on them.

Ben gobbles him down until Hux starts making those helpless little noises he craves to hear. Hux tugs at his hair when he comes, glob after glob shooting down Ben’s throat. Ben releases him, eyes darkened and lustful.

“You enjoy that far too much,” Hux says breathily.

“Lucky you.”

These days with Ben mark the first of many experiments. Including this kiss which he initiates, daring a taste of himself. Ben moans at the filthy, forbidden act. Together, they’ve never felt so alive.

--

Predictably, Ben and Hux conclude their evening with rough, athletic sex. A lifetime of repression has burned through Hux’s resolve. He craves Ben’s kiss, his touch, his cock. He all but sobs when Ben fucks him into his mussed mattress. His legs spread wide as if it’ll drive Ben deeper. Gods, he wants Ben deeper, faster, harder.

Ben curses, drowning in Hux’s want. “Look at you,” he gasps, taking in the beautiful strain of Hux’s neck, his red, bitten lips, the all-black gape of his irises. He’s obsessed.

“You like this? Getting—getting split in half like this?” Ben babbles, no longer in control of his tongue. “You take me so well. You were made for me, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Hux begs. “All yours. Harder, Ben.” He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Ben, bruising his shoulders. He’s in heaven, sweet heaven. He lets his eyes slip open to see Ben’s earnest, devoted gaze.

Something moves by his bedroom door. Hux’s blood crystalizes to ice when he sees what it is. Who it is.

Hell. He’s in hell.

Brendol Hux is quiet and stone-still as Hux shoves Ben off. Once Ben sees the threat, he hastily pulls out and grabs the sheet for Hux and bolts from the bed. How can this be happening?

Hux’s hot face falls to the ground, scrabbling for the blanket. He can’t bear to look at his father. Shame silences him.

“Sir, I can explain,” Ben tries from the corner of the room, pillow hiding his wilting erection. Brendol doesn’t look at him, only glares murderously at Hux. Hux, oh Hux. Ben can’t imagine what he’s thinking. “Sir,” Ben tries again.

Brendol shifts his scrutiny to Ben. “Your services will no longer be required, Jedi. Leave.”

A thousand obscenities rise like bile—how dare you barge in here and humiliate him, you devious bastard—but Ben quells them and attempts to control the damage. “It’s not what you think. I really care about him—”

“Stop,” says Hux, surprising him. “Get out.”

Helplessly, Ben looks to Hux and holds his ground. “I’m not gonna just—”

“Get out!” Hux yells, his heart betraying him.

Requiring no further instruction, Ben grabs his stripped clothing. He knows what he must do.

Now alone, Brendol goes into Hux’s closet and retrieves one of his uniforms. “Get dressed,” Brendol says, voice void of emotion but his eyes speak volumes. “We’re leaving.”

Without hesitation, Hux tugs on his uniform. His father doesn’t give him any privacy. Why would he, after what he witnessed? Within moments, Hux is dressed. He knows better than to initiate the next word, so he holds his tongue. Outside, his room is empty. Ben must have left. Damn it all. He hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Brendol leads him outside to the nearest docking bay. Neither of them spots Ben’s vigil and tag of Brendol’s ship. Luckily, Ben’s mother’s ship was fitted with trackers. Once they’re off, Ben will follow. He can’t risk endangering Hux. If anything happens to him, Ben has no one to blame but himself.

--

Inside Brendol’s departing ship, Hux stares at the floor. His bottom is sore from Ben’s fucking. Brendol can probably sense it on him. Smell it on him.

Brendol finally breaks the silence once the autopilot carries them to their destination. “Times like these, I wonder why I even bother with you anymore. The training, the grooming. I had too much faith in you.”

Hux says nothing. The only indication he heard is the minute twitch of his chin.

Brendol wrings his gloved hands on the steering. “Leadership isn’t meant for…people like you. People like you deserve nothing but to be left in the dust with the rest of the xenos and the troglodytes.” Garbage, inhuman garbage. “It’s a shame what you did to that Jedi. Knowing full well what we’ve been working toward.”

Hux is almost too shocked to fully appreciate how demeaning his father’s words are. Brendol eyes him in the way he often does when he expects Hux’s input. “Sir, I’m—”

“You’re a whore, is what you are. Just like your mother.”

Stunned to silence, Hux mangles his tongue and cheek with grinding teeth. Whore. Whore. Whore.

Brendol raises a hand as if to slap him. “I should have known there wasn’t anything I could do to fix you. After this, you’ll no longer have to answer to me.”

The finality in his father’s words is jarring. Every question about his relationship with his father is answered. His father cares more about their work than him. He just hadn’t realized how relieved he’d be confirming this.

“I love him,” Hux near-whispers, surprising them both. It’s all that needs to be said. He doesn’t question the validity of the confession. He wouldn’t risk more of his father’s wrath, nor his own feelings for being wrong. He trusts his heart, how it binds him to Ben. It’s the one thing Brendol can’t take away.

Brendol juts his chin out, grinding his jaw. Disgust burns hotly in his eyes. “It’s beyond pathetic that you actually believe that.”

Hux maintains his glare, thrumming with a newfound courage. He believes in Ben, in what they have, and in what they have yet to forge together. He focuses on the foreign coordinates.

It’s less than an hour before they dock to the mysterious space station. Hux has never been here before, but judging from his father’s ease of arrival, this is a common stop between worlds.

Brendol leads his son to the main chamber that leads to the hall to Snoke’s lair. Upon their unexpected arrival, Snoke sends two faceless guards to fetch them and lead them to his dining room where he’s spending his evening. Brendol maintains two paces in front of his son, not bothering to console Hux’s evident trepidation.

Snoke welcomes his two followers without much insult, other than, “Pardon my appearance. Usually you are summoned at a more appropriate time, Brendol.”

Unlike Hux, Brendol doesn’t waver when the large doors hiss shut behind them. “Apologies, Sir. But this couldn’t wait. My son has something to tell you.”

Hux’s eyes widen in terror. It would have been too easy for his father to strip him down with his words, rather than having him do it to himself. He really should have expected this. Brendol has always taken every avenue to humiliate him, and he’s just given him a lifetime of fodder for it.

From the end of his theatrically sized dining table, Snoke raises his chin. Hux swallows and forces his tongue to form his confession.

“Ben and I have grown close. I hadn’t meant for this to happen but once it started, there was no stopping it. We started…having sex. It’s against his code—and mine—but we didn’t care.”

Snoke darkens, absorbing the new development. “I see.”

“I am greatly disturbed by this, Sir,” Brendol interjects. “My son’s actions reflect my failures and oversight. Now that my son’s seduced Ben—”

“You need to learn to be adaptable, Brendol,” Snoke interrupts with a sickly, knowing smirk. “I’ve been in Ben’s mind since he was a child. I’ve seen the attention and approval he craves. While young Armitage’s impulses are depraved…there’s no better vice for a young, powerful man like Ben.” And powerful he is, indeed.

Hux flinches. Could Snoke really be implying what he thinks? That he’s supposed to use their relationship as leverage? He’s supposed to use Ben like they’ve been? “It won’t work. In my err of judgement, I told Ben about our plan to turn him and depose of the Republic. He hasn’t told the Senate yet. Because of me. He doesn’t want to risk me,” he defends, trying so had to believe Ben meant it. What if Ben’s been toying with him right back? What if he plans on raiding their citadel on Arkanis with his Jedi army?

Brendol is so appalled he grunts in fury and wrenches Hux by the nape of his neck, bruising his slight flesh. “You are a disgrace,” he hisses into Hux’s cowering ear, uncaring of the immature display before their master.

A series of sharp sizzles and hums from behind the sealed doors alert Brendol and Hux of a threat. But to Snoke, who is all but omniscient, commends the intriguing, surprising development. Pride and awe glow within when he senses the death of his two guards. A sharp blade of a lightsaber—blue—ignites through the sealed doors. “As I said, Brendol. Be adaptable.”

Ben wrenches the doors open, heart beating out of his chest from the two fresh kills of the two guards. His first kills.

“Ben,” Hux gasps. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Ben gapes at the horrifying figure at the end of the table. Snoke. It has to be. He’s never seen him before. Why does he feel so familiar?

“He’s coming with me,” Ben tells Brendol, snapping out of his spell. “I won’t allow you to abuse him any longer.”

Brendol shoves away from his son to lurch in Ben’s space. “I don’t take orders from Jedi, certainly not inverted miscreants like yourself,” he growls.

Ben raises his lit lightsaber. “Think again before you test me. I’m here to bring you to justice for your crimes against the Senate and to your own people.”

“Ben—” Hux tries, but Ben doesn’t waver.

“I need to do this. He’s poison to you.”

A wave of dark energy casts Brendol to his knees. Ben falters. The energy didn’t stem from him.

Snoke relaxes his outstretched hand. “You know what you have to do,” he says, voice a train wreck of a noise.

Ben is struck with befuddlement. What in the hell? Why would Snoke want him to murder his partner?

As long as he’s alive, you’ll never have what you want, comes a hauntingly familiar voice within Ben’s mind. You’ll never be allowed to have him.

Brendol glares up at Ben from his forced kneel.

“Ask yourself what is just and what is fair,” Snoke says, disturbing the heavy silence. Hux coils to the side, conflicted.

Ben breaks out of his spell. He can't kill Brendol. Killing in battle is one thing, but this? This is murder. He marches over to Snoke, who doesn't bother getting up from his half-finished meal. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't strike you down where you stand. Where you sit,” he corrects absurdly.

“You're not a killer,” Snoke says calmly.

“Your guards might disagree with that,” Ben spits.

“You are not a killer of innocents. Brendol is not an innocent man.” Snoke senses Ben’s next respite. “I've done nothing to harm you or Armitage. It's he who I've trusted to be the future of our organization. You need me to keep him there, now that Brendol is no more.”

From his crouch, Brendol is forced into silence for the might of the Force-grip. Hux has never seen such raw power: the power of the Force. He gapes at his father. So subdued, so weak.

Snoke stands abruptly, causing Ben to lurch backward. “Finish him, so Armitage won't have to live in fear. So he can finally reach his true potential.”

Hux swallows, Snoke speaking for him. Snoke’s never said anything like this before. Not to him. Hope floods him, drowning his spillways.

Ben tightens his shoulders, making a final decision. He marches over to Brendol’s crouch and raises his saber like an executioner. Brendol is a monster, a tyrant who's caused so many problems for the Republic, who's cursed Hux with a lifetime of struggle and abuse and shame.

“Wait!” Hux cries.

“I'm doing this for you,” Ben implores. “Please don't make this harder than it has to be.”

“Wait, Ben,” Hux scrambles for Ben’s saber. He looks his father dead in the eyes. His heart beats erratically, enlivened by the turn of play. “Let me do it.”

Stricken with terror, Brendol’s green eyes widen to saucers. The Force-hold keeps him complacent just enough for a furious, righteous growl to claw from his stationary jaw. Dumbly, Ben passes Hux his lightsaber. He watches in awe as Hux takes the blade to Brendol’s neck and shoves it downward as if his flesh were butter, slicing his head clean off. Hux stands there, trembling in place.

Ben is the first to recover from the shock of a real-life beheading and gently eases the lightsaber from Hux’s grip and back on his belt. He replaces the hilt in Hux’s hand with his fingers, seeking Hux’s warmth. Snoke is the silent observer. Neither man pay him much attention.

“Are you alright?” Ben asks carefully.

Hux considers this. Is he? How does he even feel? “I’m better now,” he decides, believing every word. “It’s better now.”

“You just…are you sure you’re alright?”

He can have everything. The citadel, his father’s army, the seat in the Senate—and beyond. He can finally have Ben. Hux grimaces at his father’s dismembered head. He’s so relieved. So relieved.

Hux takes both of Ben’s hands in his. “We did it, Ben. We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Relief flows both ways. Ben would have done anything to have Hux. It terrifies him that he would have executed Brendol if Hux hadn’t done it for him.

Snoke startles them both by walking to their sides. Instinctually, Ben guards Hux with the span of his attack stance. But Snoke splays his long, gnarled fingers in surrender. Both young men are at a loss for words, cautious of the mysterious, powerful Snoke.

“It had to happen. Brendol was the type of leader to limit himself to only his strengths, and passing off those of others. That’s why I chose Armitage to take his place.”

Hux looks to Ben, as if he needs a proxy for Brendol who can tell him what to do. Ben speaks for them both. “Why the hell would we help you?”

“Because I’m the only thing that can ensure young Armitage can safely take his father’s place in Arkanis’s citadel, as well as the Senate.”

Ben darkens. For the first time tonight, he seriously considers not striking Snoke down. “Safely?”

“Brendol had few allies. You have seen firsthand how his men willfully turned on him and captured his son. You want Armitage to reign, don’t you?”

Ben looks to Hux for confirmation. “Is this what you want?” Ben asks, low for Hux’s ears.

“Yes,” Hux says with conviction. To accomplish what his father never could would be the ultimate victory. A slap in his father’s face. “But I can't ask you to do this for me. Snoke has men for me.”

“Men I easily bested and I'm not even a knight,” Ben scoffs. “I need to be here. To make sure nothing will happen to you.”

“But this goes against your code.”

“I don't care about the code. I care about you.” Hux needs him. How can he be wrong? He’s supposed to protect those who can’t protect themselves. That’s what being a Jedi is truly about.

Snoke’s shoes clack faintly in the distance. He retrieves an object from a case, studying its cylindrical form. If Ben didn't know better, he'd say that's a lightsaber.

“You can protect him, but the public nor his officers have to know you’re a Jedi.” Snoke hands Ben the object. Carefully, Ben inspects it, activates its trigger. Surely enough, it's a lightsaber. Ben gawks at its scarlet blade and the two crossguard vents spitting energy out its sides. Who would make something like this, with such a foolish hazard?

“This is a Sith’s blade,” Ben spits, repulsed by its nature. “You expect me to use it?”

“Not you. Your protector alter ego.”

“Alter ego?” What in Sith-hells?

“This is not a Sith’s blade. The Sith are extinct. This is a blade befitting a knight.”

Ben hesitates. “A knight? Like I told you—”

“Not a Jedi knight. A Knight of Ren.”

What the hell is a Ren? “Are you just making this up?” Ben asks, incredulous. Hux’s thin fingers bruise his wrist in protest of his insolence.

“The Knights of Ren are an elite cohort of warriors whose job is to enforce order, preserve strong leadership. Their true duty is to protect the ones they care about, above all else. That's what you want, don't you?” Snoke asks.

Ben deactivates the saber. If he doesn't stay at Hux’s side, there'd be nothing standing in the way of Hux’s enemies doing to him what they did to Brendol. None of Snoke’s men are even close to his skill level and relationship with the Force.

He doesn't have a choice.

“I refuse to show my face.” He can't shame Luke any more than he already has. Not to mention his mother and grandmother. They'd no doubt condemn him staging an all-out coup on Arkanis, a powerful, unstable system.

The smile that sharpens Snoke’s gnarled lips sickens both young men. Hux’s grip on Ben's wrist tightens to a bruising strength.

“Nothing a mask can't solve,” Snoke assures.

Ben takes in the implications of assuming a new identity. He finds Hux’s hopeful, awestruck eyes and swears the uncertain path will be well worth it.

Chapter Text

Ben cradles the mask in his gloved hands. At Snoke’s space station, he had fitted him with a new cloak and uniform, both similar to his Jedi apparel. But the mask is different. He’s never worn a mask before, let alone while fighting.

He’s never killed before. Until now. The death of the two scarlet-clad guards rings void-like in his chest. He cannot fix the damage it’s done to his psyche. He can only accept that he was their demise.

The stench of Brendol’s burnt flesh clogs his thoughts.

Now that they’re back on their way to Arkanis, Ben’s dressed in the all black uniform. It clings to him like a second skin, comfortably so.

“Does it fit?” Hux asks, taken back by the stark change all-black has on Ben. Yesterday he looked like a Jedi. Now, he looks like—something else.

Ben nods. “Haven’t put the helmet on yet.”

Hux takes the helmet from him, inspecting its exterior. Four chrome bands radiate around a slit for seeing through. Unease surfaces from its heaviness and depth of black. “Are you sure about this? Snoke—”

“I’m not doing this for Snoke. I’m doing this for you, understand?” Ben urges, looming into Hux’s space.

Hux nods, stepping back. Not in fear, but in caution. He hands Ben the mask. He swallows as Ben eases it over his skull, and the mask secures itself with a hiss.

From underneath, Ben stares through the slit at the widening of Hux’s green eyes, their color muted with the red filtering. But what startles him most is the clarity in which he can hear and sense the physical world around him. He can hear Hux’s heart beating, wild and drum-like.

“How does it feel?” Hux asks. Ben starts to confirm its suitableness until he’s startled by the warped growl of his own voice through the vocoder. Fear grips him and he abruptly wrenches the helmet off.

“That was—different,” Ben says. So different from the real him. But isn’t that the point?

“It’s very intimidating. Kind of…”

Ben raises his brows at Hux’s blush. “Kind of what?”

“Obscenely attractive,” Hux admits. “You’ll either scare them out of their skins or their pants. Hopefully not the latter.”

“Is that jealously?”

Hux smacks his chest. “Quit it.” There’s been something he’s been dying to set straight, since he told Brendol he loved Ben. It wasn’t a ruse or a ploy. “You are all mine, aren’t you?”

From the vulnerability in Hux’s voice, Ben’s chest swells with adoration. And something more. Something thicker and permanent than simple attraction. “I wouldn’t use that ridiculous lightsaber for just anyone.”

“Thank you,” Hux says, after a beat. “For staying by my side. And for being the only one to truly understand me. Like with—” Hux cuts himself off, the murder of his father already a kept secret. Ben understands, because they fit together even better emotionally than they do physically. “I wouldn’t have had the strength to do what I did.”

Ben keeps the helmet in one hand, and pulls Hux close with his other. He marvels how naturally Hux melts against him, how he can see so much of his heart behind those normally steely eyes. Beautiful. “You’re capable of so much more than you know.” Becoming Arkanis’s commander in chief, uniting his people in a way his father never could. And more, beyond Arkanis. Hux is so wise and stern and resilient, the Senate would be lucky to have his talents.

Sweet relief fills Hux as Ben chips away at his layers of self-depreciation tacked on through a lifetime of serving his father. He’s finally free. He teethes at his lip in anticipation when Ben secures the helmet back on his head. It’s almost time.

--

Ben and Hux march through the citadel, Ben in his mask and Hux in his crispest, charcoal dress uniform. Hux leads the way but only because Ben’s got his back.

Kylo Ren, pushes that familiar voice in Ben’s mind. Ben frowns, because this time, he’s sure the voice isn’t his. It sounds exactly like the voice in his head, but he’s sure it belongs to Snoke. He experiments by pushing back. Hard. What? How are you speaking to me?

Your name while under this disguise, Snoke sends. The name of Armitage’s symbol of order. It’s the only way you’ll get him where he needs to be. And you are a Force-sensitive, as I am. It’s efficient.

From underneath the mask, Ben perspires, not only from exhaustion of the extended day, but of sickness in the form of nerves. Kylo Ren. He can be Kylo Ren while in this suit and mask. It’s a necessary transformation. But does that creep Snoke really have to call him directly into his mind?

Finish them. The non-believers of Armitage’s cause. They’ll never give. They must be eliminated, Snoke tells him. If he heard Ben’s snark, he didn’t indicate so. And push Armitage where he needs to go. I trust you’ll decide what’s best for him.

Of course, he will. Ben trusts himself most of all.

Hux calls in his father’s chairmen from their resting hours. Arkanis houses many of its leaders within easy speeder distance, so it doesn’t take them long. By the time the room fills, the men and women’s evident unease eats a hole in Hux’s speech about his newfound leadership. Most of their unease is centered on Ben—on Kylo Ren.

“My father met his end in his sleep last night,” Hux continues. “He trusted me with completing what he started. With the help and loyalty of you all, we’ll finally unite our Arkanian brothers and sisters and end the senseless arms debate that’s been tearing us apart for decades. Our military is what makes us great, our weapons are what shows the rest of the Republic we are serious about a necessary secession. Which is why I’m announcing the commencement of a new order to carry through our world-plan. With the help of my enforcer, our consortium with unite with all branches system-wide to create Arkanis’s First Order.”

Ben glows with private pride at Hux’s energy, the naturalness of his leadership and wealth of knowledge and rationalism. How could he have ever doubted this was the right path? He waits idly as Hux hammers out the politics as instinctually as if he’s done it his whole life. He can sense Hux’s genuine enjoyment as his father’s cohorts ally themselves with him, passing motion after motion.

In accordance with both Snoke’s commands and his own experience with the flimsiness of Hux’s alliances, Ben combs the minds of every leader in the room for any sign of deception. It takes him a while to find the at-risk ones. But the elder on the end, closest to the door, stands out most of all. He’s got a thinly veiled glint of rage, the kind seen in those who’ve faced a great many losses. Ben moves from his post to bombard the man with Kylo Ren’s opaque presence.

The man is forced to acknowledge his menace. “What’s this?” he asks incredulously. The whole room’s gone silent, including Hux, who watches Ben with intrigue.

Ben attempts his most threatening gait and tone. “Your thoughts betray you,” he growls through the vocoder. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t treat you as a threat.”

Unimpressed with Ben’s menace, the man gets to his feet. “It’s too late. They’re already here.”

Ben pales. “Who?”

“We who will not be silenced,” the man says with conviction. “We’ll resist your dictatorship, end it right at the source!”

No, no. He cannot allow Hux’s plans to be foiled, and it is not even an option to allow Hux to get in harms way. An untapped tempest of fury surges inside him. Darkness. It swallows up all reservations for what he needs to do next. The enemy is already here, and they must be neutralized. For Hux’s sake. He doesn’t even seek Hux’s confirmation before igniting his spitting red lightsaber and driving it through the man’s gut. When the Force reclaims the man’s energy, Ben relishes it.

He wastes no more time. “We have to get you to safety. That man was a traitor and stalled just long enough to corner you. There will be more coming,” he orders Hux, who’s stunned to silence from the bloodshed. Hux collects himself, aware of his image even in this time of crisis. “All of you. Call your guards then immediately evacuate,” Ben tells Hux’s men as an afterthought.

“Let’s go,” Hux says, suctioned to Ben’s side. Uncaring of getting too close, Ben anchors Hux by his petite waist through the doors, strictly maintaining his vigil for threats. It takes all of thirty seconds for the threats to converge. Ben deflects the blaster bolts of a sheet of warriors, using the most volatile, readily available, reactive bursts of energy to protect Hux from harm. Thankfully Hux was wise enough to arm himself with his blaster, but the warriors—the traitors—are no match for Kylo Ren.

Ben drives and swipes his electric red saber into the guts and chests and faces of the enemy, mowing them down one after the next. He loses count after twenty slain threats. His Jedi training allows him to hone in on Hux, who has taken out a few traitors of his own or at least wounded them enough for Ben to finish them off. Hux finally reaches their destination: his father’s office. Fortified and armed with blast doors impermeable to most weapons, it will keep him and Ben safe until their soldiers can clear out the threat and secure the citadel. They’ve already won.

Once inside, Ben pants from exertion, adrenalized from battle. Something else pulses through his veins, raw and electrifying. Limitless. He’s never felt such power like this. It would terrify him it if didn’t feel so good.

“Much better,” Hux breathes, his cap left behind in the board room leaving his combed hair tossed from their escape. Ben tears his helmet off, also a mess. He can’t take his eyes off Hux’s, and in that moment, post-battle, so near victory, Ben’s body demands him.

Hux gasps when Ben lunges for him, all teeth and persistent tongue. He backs him up against the desk—his father’s desk—eliciting a lusty thrill from the salacious act. Brendol will never find out because he killed him. He and Ben killed him. He and Ben were the catalysts to this revolution. They’re the sparks that ignited the blaze of the First Order. Hux moans as Ben ravages him, takes what’s his.

“Fuck me. Right here,” Hux whines. Ben doesn’t need to be told twice. He spins Hux around and bends him at the waist over the desk, the last marks of Brendol’s leadership tumbling from atop it in their mad dash to fuck. Hux ransacks one of the side crannies for his father’s prized hand cream—this is far too expensive for you to use, Armitage. You’ll merely waste it—and shoves it to Ben who doesn’t ask questions.

They don’t bother disrobing. Ben’s ungloved, unmasked, unzipped at the fly and already rock hard, while Hux’s ass is bared, made more round and shapely from the stark contrast of pink-pale and black. Roughly, Ben fingers him, but Hux orders him to get on with it because he relishes the burn.

Ben enters him with a cry as if it hurts him on his end more. He fucks into him with vigor, bending over Hux’s back to claw at his hair, slowly driving into him with rough thrusts.

“Ben,” he groans, pleasure building around Ben’s unhinged, wild energy.

“Ren,” Ben growls, that treasured, lively power anchoring his desires. “Call me Ren when I fuck you like this.”

Hux gapes into the glossy table already mussed with his wet, open-mouthed panting. “Ren,” he whines, pushing back on Ben’s relentlessness. Just saying the name sharpens his skin to tingles, hardens his cock to a point breaching pain. Ben wholly agrees with his reaction, making him beg for Ren’s cock, for Ren to make him come, for Ren to make him his.

“More, Ren,” he moans, an obscene, perfect sound Ben will keep with him forever. “Come in me.”

Ben growls and just to prove he can, he grapples Hux by his chest to support him vertically, bowing his spine. He gets a full view of Hux’s straining cock, how it looks as if he’d come if he teased it against the table just right. He doesn’t realize he’s got a hand on Hux’s throat until Hux chokes noiselessly and splatters his father’s ruined desk with come. It’s enough to send Ben spilling inside his addicting tightness, mesmerized by what he made Hux’s body perform for him. Ben slowly eases pressure on Hux’s throat as he trembles through his aftershocks.

As Ben finishes, Hux lands palms to desk so Ben can finish, pumping him full. He’s shaking all over when Ben pulls out, groaning at the sensation of his used, exposed hole catching the brisk air. Gingerly, Hux does his best to reorder himself. He’s halfway through zipping back up his soiled trousers when Ben’s come oozes from him, wetting the clothing down his leg, and fuck, he loves it.

Ben tucks himself away and puts his gloves back on. “I loved it,” Ben breaks the full silence. “I loved killing for you.” It’s an expected revelation, but so permanent to his ears.

Hux kisses him, tender in contrast to the prior violent, animalistic fucking. He drowns in Ben’s dark eyes, the warmth and devotion holding him in his orbit. He swallows, exposed before Ben.

“I love you,” Hux whispers against him. The confession is out before he can quench it. He doesn’t want to hide it anymore.

Ben secures his skull in his broad hands, swiping through the delicious mess on Hux’s face. “You do?” he croaks, for the first time today sounding and feeling his age.

Hux nods. Fuck, he loves him so much. He’s emboldened with it as if it doesn’t matter if Ben feels the same way back.

“I love you,” Ben insists back, sure of his heart. Damned what the Jedi believe. They don’t understand love, only power and control. The Jedi would never let Ben have Hux.

Could he leave the Jedi? Could he abandon his life and purpose to be Kylo Ren for Hux?

But what’s never been a question to him is the fact that they were meant to end up here. He knows so by the unfettered elation in Hux’s eyes from his reciprocated confession of love. “I always knew we were meant to be together,” Ben continues. “I could feel it. You and me. We’re stronger together.”

Spellbound, Hux beams under Ben’s grounding grip on his face. They kiss indulgently, sealing their eternal vow. They have so much work to do.

--

“Lor San Tekka is dead.”

Leia stands up from her seat to welcome her informant in her rooms. Poe Dameron, a trusted pilot of the Republic fleet. Only twenty-four and already a high-ranking captain. And more importantly, her protégé and trusted contact for the hushed, covert operations unofficially sponsored by the Republic.

“What happened?” she asks, now that they’re in private. San Tekka was stationed as a spy for the Arkanian resistance militia constructed to fight Brendol Hux’s tyrannical rise. He was told to not act until the threat became too great to allow to pass.

“Him, along with over a hundred of the Arkanian resistance, all slaughtered when their military leaders started planning for weapons of mass destruction. And there’s something else.”

“Tell me,” Leia insists. She has to call Ben and make sure he’s alright.

“Almost half of them were killed by what appeared to be a Force-user. He fought from behind a mask. And he wielded a red lightsaber.”

Leia pales. Could this really be the beginning of a war? She rushes to her comm, praying to the Force Ben’s safe.

She doesn’t know what she’d do if she came close to losing him.

Chapter Text

The following morning greets them with warm rays of sunlight through the blinds. Hux smiles softly to himself at the pleasant burn between his legs from his and Ben’s marathon sex last night. By now, the Senate has gotten word of the regime change. Any other suspicions they may have regarding his plans will be impossible to substantiate without proof. He’s prepared to meet fire with fire. He eases from Ben’s warm embrace, idly kissing his knuckles on his way out of the bed to ready himself.

Ben wakes up in Hux’s bed to Hux getting ready in the refresher. It’s a shame that today will be their last day alone, for a while. Hux will have to go to Coruscant this afternoon for an emergency meeting in the Senate.

Ben can’t not attend. What if someone tries something there? To ensure Master Luke and his mother don’t sense anything is off, Ben will be forced to show face at the Temple beforehand.

He hadn’t realized he’s left his comm unattended all night. Five missed calls from his mother glare at him as if she were here to glare herself. He sends a quick I’m alright, Ma. Things got pretty hairy but Hux and I are alright. I’ll be back on Coruscant today. Hard to believe he hasn’t been back in almost a month. It feels like a lifetime.

“I’ll give you my address while I’m in session. It shouldn’t be more than a few days. Maybe we can meet once or twice.” The thought of not seeing Ben after weeks of constant contact terrifies him.

“I’ll need to make an appearance at the Temple, but as soon as I’m off the hook, I’ll find you.” Ben comes up behind Hux, hands on his hips and lips on the nape of his neck. They fit so well together, a perfect partnership. “Try not to cause too much of a fuss in the meeting. Be clear about your plan but don’t try anything extra.”

“I’m not stupid, Ben,” Hux smirks, absorbing Ben’s warmth. “I know how to strategize.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He knows a choice will be placed before him soon: Hux or the Jedi. He knows which one he’ll pick and what he’ll do to keep it. He holds Hux close to his chest, breathing in his pleasant scent.

--

Tall, ancient spires greet Ben as he approaches the Jedi Temple’s landing pad. As soon as he touches down, he’s met with the familiar presence of his master. Ben steps off the ship, grateful his mask and cloak and red saber is safely stowed away on Hux’s shuttle.

Luke approaches his Padawan with a grim nod. “Leia’s worried sick about you.”

There Luke goes, trying to make him feel guilty. “She knows where I was.”

“You’ve been gone for a month. I know we left on a bad note but with your knighthood in the works—”

“I’m not a knight, though, am I?” Ben snaps, resentment resurfacing. He deserved that knighting. If anything, these past few weeks have shown him not to accept anything less than greatness. He may not be a Jedi Knight, but he’s transformed himself into a true protector. A Knight of Ren.

Luke glares, aware of the public atmosphere of the rooftop. “You have a meeting with the Council. Now.”

Ben marches to the Council chambers. The Council’s interest in his mysterious mission doesn’t surprise him. Master Jade is the first to get vocal about her skepticism.

“So, you learned nothing of the attacks on the citadel?” Master Jade asks, backing up her once-partner and father of her child, Luke. “I find that hard to believe. You’re very capable.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?” Ben asks, disrespectful in a way he’s never openly been.

Master Jade is hardly perturbed. “Like I said. You’re very capable.”

“Will that be all?” he asks, short, clearly wanting to leave.

Master Luke disregards professionalism, far too concerned for his Padawan’s mental state. “Ben, take a day of rest. You look exhausted.”

Typical Luke, using his concern as a guise for insult. He’s perfectly fine. He feels magnificently powerful. Regardless of his pride, he accepts the leave. He removes himself from Council chambers and ignores Master Luke’s condemning frown.

In the hall back towards the landing pad, Ben is intercepted by a pair of Padawan he’s come to know and love: his baby cousin Rey and her best friend Finn.

“Ben!” Rey exclaims, running and jumping into his arms. Ben’s cold exterior melts away. He’s always happy to see his little cousin. He swings Rey around with her feet off the floor, patting the side of her head not formed into her hair buns. “It’s been ages,” she pouts.

He sets her down, for the first time truly guilty about leaving for so long. “Hey, little man,” he high-five’s Finn in the signature way of theirs where Ben holds his hand out and Finn jumps to slap it. “I know it’s been a while, but this is what it’s gonna be like when I am a knight. I won’t be stinking up the Temple like you two.”

Rey’s joy fizzles away. Because he’s right. One day he’ll be on mission after mission while she’ll still be here, still a little kid. Well, not that little. She’s almost as tall as Ben’s chest, which is saying a lot. Ben is sky-scraper high. “You really scared Master Luke. And more importantly, me.”

Ben laughs. “You know I always make it back in once piece.”

“Ben, that’s a ridiculous notion.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Until the time you don’t,” Finn interjects. “Also, you missed the first round of the games. We were all counting on you to show off your combat skills. We wanted you to win but now we have to wait for next year.”

Ben’s instantly crushed. The games. How could he have forgotten? The Jedi games is one of the few times a standard year the Council allows Padawan and Knights alike to compete against each other. It began ten years ago as mainly lightsaber sparring, but it’s developed into a more dynamic affair, including combination weapons sparring, shooting, and wrestling. Ben won last year in wrestling by the skin of his teeth. He mostly did it to make Rey and Finn happy.

“I’m sorry. It was the mission. It couldn’t wait.” He regrets letting them down, but Hux’s safety takes precedence.

“It’s alright. We know you’re meant to be off saving people,” Rey sighs. Finn agrees. They’ve always looked up to Ben, saw him as a big brother and a mentor.

Dread rises like bile. Besides Hux, he didn’t save anyone. All he’d done was kill. Did Luke and Mara smell it on him? Could his mother?

“I have to get going, guys. I’ll be back here tonight.” It may be too risky to spend the night at Hux’s, but even that may not keep him away. Even now, he’s drawn to him. Their love is an obsession.

He hugs them both goodbye and heads to the Senate, hoping his mother isn’t too angry with him for being gone for so long.

--

Leia Skywalker wasn’t alive when the Senate was close to collapse. It isn’t until today that she truly fears the Republic she knows and is sworn to protect is under fire. Where she expected to greet Brendol Hux and demand an explanation for what happened in their system’s governing citadel last night, she’s shocked to find young Armitage Hux instead. He’s filled with a pompous arrogance that is striking, not befitting a man who seeks to prevent war. He’s a far cry from the tired little boy Ben was infatuated with.

“As a member of the Galactic Senate, you are ordered to release intelligence on the details of what occurred last night,” the Vice Chair demands, voice carried to every repulsorpod booth. Armitage Hux’s pod remains stagnant, unwavering before the Vice Chair and Chancellor Mon Mothma. Chancellor Mothma’s attention is diverted by a private message from Leia of Naboo, in a pod of her own a few dozen away.

“What happened last night was a transfer of power from my father to me,” Hux says so confidently, it could almost be the truth. “I am not at liberty to disclose the details, but peace has befallen Arkanis. It was our greatest victory in centuries.”

Chancellor Mothma stands. “Who is Kylo Ren?” she asks, the question Senator Leia assured her would get answers.

Hux flinches, a sign of weakness. “Where did you hear that name?” he demands, making the situation worse by getting flustered.

“Did he slaughter nearly a hundred militia fighters, under your command?”

“I had known the Republic’s intelligence agency was in the habit of spreading lies. But not so blatantly, and certainly not from you, Chancellor,” Hux sneers, earning numerous muted gasps around the rotunda. Hux gets permission from his supporting staff to commence what they’ve been planning all night, and all morning. “It’s with great regret that I inform you that we will beginning a full-fledged secession from the Republic, starting today. Your system is flawed and we Arkanians refuse to be subdued. I encourage other systems to follow.” Relishing the horror painting the Vice Chair and Chancellor’s faces, Hux commands the repulsorpod back into the dock and marches out of the rotunda with the fullest, most prideful smirk on his lips.

It immediately falls when a pair of Republic guards accost him, ordering him to surrender his weapons and come with them for questioning. This is unlawful. They can’t detain him!

From above, Leia watches in horror as the Senate security team leads Hux and his men down below, likely to interrogation. Chancellor Mothma calls for a recess, until they can get everything sorted out. They are, after all, preserving the peace and freedom of all systems.

Leia senses Ben’s approach. As Armitage Hux’s friend, who’s no doubt gotten closer to him during his mission, she’ll have to tell him what just happened.

In her chambers, she greets her son with an embrace. “I’m glad you’re back. I was so worried after I heard about what happened. The attack—so many fallen militia fighters. It’s a shame it was all in vain.”

Ben swallows. “I wasn’t anywhere near it when it happened. Neither was Hux. Have you seen him today?” he adds, tempering his desperation.

Leia regards him solemnly. “He’s been detained.”

What? He’s away for one day and already Hux has been taken from him? “Detained? By whom?”

“He made a mess today. He started a secession.”

“That’s not illegal. The Senate can’t just go throwing people they disagree with in jail.” This is insane. He won’t stand for this.

Suspicion flashes in Leia’s eyes. “He’s been lying from the start, Ben. I know he’s your friend. But our intelligence—”

“Your intelligence is wrong!” Ben barks. At his mother’s condemning glare, he sobers. “I’m sorry. I just…worried.”

Leia softens, palming her son’s sharp cheek. He looks so much like his father. “I know you care. It’s what makes you who you are. You care until it consumes you.”

Ben clenches his fist around the easily accessible vengeance coiling around his fingertips. “There must be something you can do for him.” Ben knows what he must do to prevent the Republic from hurting Hux. He just doesn’t know if he has the strength to do so.

“Ben,” she starts. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

“Your father’s here. He’s on the roof. I called him last night when I found out about what happened and when you weren’t answering.”

Ben bristles. A visit from Han Solo is the last thing he needs right now. “I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll see what I can do for your friend. For now, just talk to him. He’s on the alpha landing pad.”

As if it causes him physical pain to comply, Ben marches toward the elevator.

--

Han Solo never claimed to be the best father. He’s been absent from his kid’s life, spent holidays in skirmishes, ignored Leia’s calls. When Ben was a young boy, he told himself he abandoned Ben because of fears of disappointing him. He foolishly thought it was brave sacrifice.

As Ben entered adulthood, these past long years have taught Han there’s no changing how detrimental his absence has been on their relationship. Ben’s never wanted to spend time with him, not since he was small. He has no one to blame for himself. It was not a brave sacrifice, not one bit of it. It was all loss.

On the highest landing pad of the Senate rotunda, Ben greets his father with silence. At least the landing pad is clear of spectators. Not very many people are allowed on this pad. It’s small and discreet enough to allow for secret arrivals. It makes sense his mother would make his father use this pad, overlooking the deep bowels of Coruscant. Han Solo is her greatest shame.

“Hey, kid,” are Han’s first words to his son in over two years. “It’s been a while.”

Ben isn’t impressed by his craft: the Millennium Falcon. Somehow that beast of a freighter is still functioning. “Seems a bit risky to bring the Falcon here. How are you not being arrested right now? Isn’t that thing wanted in every system?”

“Not every. Maybe four or five.” Han steps close to inspect his son. “You look…” He can’t finish his thought.

“What. Different?” He feels different. Stronger. Powerful. Han’s presence threatens it.

He weakens you, hisses a voice in the chamber of Ben’s skull. Ben’s too disturbed to dissect where it came from, himself or Snoke.

“You look just like your old man,” Han finishes with a wry smirk.

Ben curls his lip. “What did you come here for?”

“Your mother’s worried about you. We both are.”

He weakens you, chimes the voice again. Ben grimaces, swallowing the sickly tang of bile.

“Been in trouble before. You never came around then.”

“You’re in trouble?” Han tries to read him. Because clearly Ben loves being tricked and antagonized.

Ben doesn’t take the bait. He doesn’t let Han waste his time anymore. He turns around but is halted by Han’s sturdy hand. Instinctively, Ben rips his arm away.

“So, it’s a conflict of interest? I’ve been there, kid. I know the look.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He weakens you, the voice pesters. He’ll always be your most discreditable embarrassment. Your shameful origin as a smuggler’s son. A dark impulse courses through Ben’s veins, the sudden urge to wipe the slate clean. “Do what you do best and run away. And don’t come back.”

Han tries one last time. “I know I haven’t always been there for you—”

“You were never there for me!” Ben snaps, lunging forward. Han shifts back as if expecting to be stricken. End it, hisses the voice. Ben claws at his scalp. Let the past die. Kill it if you must, Kylo Ren.

Han’s heart breaks. “You’re right. I don’t expect you to forgive me for not settling down with your mother when you were young. I was selfish and stupid.”

Ben wavers, darkness surrounding him from every angle. It’s blinding. He doesn’t know how to stop it Does he even want to, at this point?

“Please say something, kid,” Han tries.

Let the past die. Become who you were destined to be.

Han nods. Seems Ben’s made his choice. He offers one last olive branch. “I just want you to know, no matter what happens, you’ll always be my boy.”

The smuggler’s son. The Jedi will never see you as anything more. Hux will never accept you, unless you show him you’re worthy. End it. Right here. Ben’s fingernails scrape his palms.

Let the past die.

Lines blur and voices are stricken to silence when Ben topples, bursting a tempest of heinous energy.

In a flash, Han Solo is sent over the edge of the hangar, falling to his death in the chasm below.

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of Ben’s irreparable, brash crime, Ben collapses to his hands and knees.

There’s no denying what he just did. He nearly passes out, completely gutted by the selfish act. Wind whistles in his ears, the hum of speeder traffic distant and rhythmic.

He murdered his father.

The Jedi will never forgive him. And his mother—

What am I supposed to do? Ben reaches out, crying for any sort of guidance. He receives several breaths of nothing, until he gives up.

Kylo Ren. With his father gone, eradicated, so has his name. Ben Solo is no more. It’s not a question of if but when he’ll complete his transformation.

Hux killed Brendol. He’ll know what to do. Determined, Ben makes for the massive main hangar at the rotunda’s base. He spots Hux’s unguarded ship. The mask sits below deck, waiting for him. He cries for its bearing, one of the few things in this galaxy that brings him a semblance of security.

--

Armitage Hux stands against a seamless wall, alone in the imprisoning room. Save for Leia Skywalker, senator to Naboo and apparently the Republic’s chief interrogator. Oh, and she’s also Ben’s mother. If only she knew.

“Please. Sit,” she orders, gesturing to the pair of chairs tucked into the lone table.

Hux grimaces. “This is an unlawful arrest. I won’t stand for it.”

“So sit.”

Very funny. He disregards her charm. Against his will, he sees Ben in her. They share the same dark features, soft only in places. Hux imagines Ben gets his height and stark angles from his father, as his mother is petite and proportionate.

“I was hoping we could have a civil, honest conversation,” she says. “We both want what’s best for your people. I need your help in making sure that a war won’t suck us up whole.”

Hux’s face lays flat like a porcelain mask. “War requires preparation.”

“Which you aim to do, if you haven’t already. It’s against the law to do so in secret.”

He’s got some weapons in the works, a lot of them none of which the galaxy’s ever seen. He neither confirms or denies her suspicions.

Leia changes her tactic. “Who is Kylo Ren?”

Hux swallows, beginning to thin under Leia’s scope. “You tell me. You seem to know more than you let on.”

Armitage Hux’s instinctual reaction to the name Kylo Ren is strange. Worrisome. There’s so much of the picture they’re not getting. “A man behind a mask. A terrorist,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “A powerful Force user, the likes of which the galaxy hasn’t seen in decades.”

By some miracle, Hux is spared anymore of her attention when a siren blares outside. Without warning, she excuses herself.

As soon as she departs the interrogation hall, she’s immediately met with a swath of terror in the Force around her. She hasn’t felt the dark side like this but there’s no mistaking it has awoken. She reaches out with her impeccable Force-sense, her first instinct to call for her son, who she knows is on the property. Her last thoughts before succumbing to a wave of debilitating energy are of Ben, how near he feels, how she prays he’s alright. She passes out in the arms of an unknown helper.

Ben eases his mother to the floor. Gentle in contrast with his brutal, menacing, relentless disposition he employed storming the halls for Hux. He’s grateful the Force had given him strength to lull his mother into unconsciousness. He can’t face her. She wouldn’t understand what he’s been through, how both sides of the conflict have torn him apart in ways he struggles to handle.

She wouldn’t understand what he and Hux have. Han was an embarrassment, a shameful secret. Luke wouldn’t understand either. He and Mara had only had a fling, their relationship no different than co-workers. They don’t understand maddening love. How easy it’s been to drown in it like a sinking field, and how he never wishes to come up for air.

Behind his mask, he growls and tosses a group of Republic guards to the side with a deft Force push. He senses Hux near, behind a locked doorway. He jabs his hissing red blade into the controls, sending the door to the side. Hux leaps from the wall.

After merely one day, the pair is far too sick of life apart. Ben embraces Hux fully, despite his mask and cloak. Hux latches onto him like a life raft.

“What are you doing here?” Hux gasps, pulling from Ben’s arms to peer through the slit of his mask

“When I heard what happened, I couldn’t stay away. I had to get you out of here.”

“But you said we should keep a low profile, and as much as I appreciate you breaking me out—”

Ben tugs Hux through the threshold. “I’ll explain on your ship. We need to comm Snoke.”

Hux doesn’t waste any more time. In tandem, they rush through the abandoned halls letting Ben mow down whoever stand in their way. Hux grins giddily. They make an incredible team.

Later when they’re parked at Coruscant’s basement level aboard Hux’s shuttle, hidden from the Senate’s police team, Hux and Ben find time alone to recuperate.

“I may have started a war,” Hux tells him, watching Ben remove his helmet. Ben says nothing. He fiddles with his mask, removing it and staring at its hypnotic, chrome bands.

Cautiously, Hux takes Ben’s helmet and places it on a seat. He finds Ben’s gloved hands and takes them in his own. He knows that look. “What happened? Tell me. Please.”

Ben’s eyes fill with tears. “I did something.”

Hux massages his hands. “I’m sure it doesn’t compare to me starting an all-out galactic war,” he jibes. Ben isn’t impressed. He only worsens his tumult, brow knitting together in pain.

“I was at a hangar with my father—I don’t know how it happened, but I…pushed him off. I killed him. I wanted him dead, so I killed him. It happened so fast, I couldn’t—”

Hux cradles Ben’s grinding jaw. “You did what you had to do,” he assures him. “Just like I did. Understand?”

Ben nods, squeezing his eyes shut. Of course, Hux wouldn’t cast judgement on him. He understands him in a way no one ever has before. He sees the heart in him, the limitless potential. He sees the darkness and knows its there to guide him, not hinder him as the Jedi would believe.

“I can’t go back from this. They won’t see me for who I am,” Ben says. “I’m with you. Forever.”

Hux’s heart swells, so full of love for Ben. He kisses him, warm and grounding. “Snoke has an army. He wants to demolish the Republic, beginning with the Jedi.”

“They'll kill them, won't they?” Ben asks gravely. The Jedi, his family.

“It's them or us,” Hux says. “I need you to lead them with me, Ben.”

Hux, his love. His partner. The only person he's ever trusted with seeing him for who he truly is. Time and time again, the Jedi have pushed him aside, wrote off his power. They constantly hold him to the impossible standard of Anakin who is nothing but a name and a myth to him. “You have me. I'd do anything for you. And for your Order.”

“Our Order,” Hux insists.

“Our Order,” Ben repeats. He tips their foreheads together, breathing him in. Ben makes the choice to abandon his name, his Jedi allegiance, and to become Kylo Ren. “Don't call me Ben anymore. Can you do that for me?”

Hux nods, pupils dilating in the unchanged light. “Once the Jedi are gone...together, we'll bring them to their knees. Kylo Ren.”

Ren smiles, sharp and dangerous like shards of glass. He feeds off Hux's desires, his hunger for power as it becomes his own. The hunger surges, gnashing its teeth and swallowing them whole. As long as he has Hux, they’ll move entire systems.

--

Senator Leia of Naboo observes every holorecording of Kylo Ren’s break in. How relentlessly he drove his lightsaber through the blaster-firing guards, the ruthlessness in every rope of dark energy tossing the unarmed ones into the nearest solid surface, including Poe Dameron. She shifts the recording.

The way he sneaks up behind her to render her unconscious, and gently eases her to the floor. When he greets Armitage Hux with a desperate embrace. A lover’s embrace.

This all got a great deal more complicated. Reason offers a heinous, logical explanation for who Kylo Ren is underneath the mask, but her heart won’t commit to that final jump.

“Senator,” Poe rushes in, scuffed from facing off Kylo Ren. “It's Han. Something happened.”

The bottom falls from her stomach.

“They found him on a passing freighter. He's been sent to the closest medical wing. It appears he fell from the platform.”

Leia sprints to the nearest hangar, her pilot in tow. They arrive to the medical wing in Poe’s shuttle within minutes. Leia finds Han in the care of a bacta tank. The ones on Coruscant lay the patient horizontal, suspended in medicated rest. All that matters is that he’s alive.

“How is he?” she asks the attending medidroid.

“Captain Solo will need to be monitored. He suffered a brain injury. I’m sorry to inform you that there is a chance he may never wake up.”

Leia’s heart aches. “Do you know what happened?” She fears the worst, prays for an undeserved answer.

“That’s for the Senate to tell you.”

Parting with Han’s wearisome countenance through the glass, Leia persists into Poe’s space. “Show me.”

Poe hardens. He knows how deeply Leia cares for her son. He parts with the recording, presenting her the truth. The feed shows Ben and Han arguing, Ben wrought with conflict. An invisible gust sends Han airborne and he disappears. Ben falls to his knees. Defeat sinks his shoulders—until a prideful glow brings him back to his feet. He knows that he did something heinous, but he postures himself like it was an achievement.

Leia cannot stave off a fiber of heartache. “We need to tell Luke.”

“Right away, Senator.” Poe startles as his earpiece relays shocking news. “There’s a massive object emerging from hyperspace. I need to get you out of here.”

She knew Armitage Hux wanted a war, but she never would have dreamed the war commence so soon. She'd love to believe Armitage Hux and his legion were no match for the Republic’s armada. But the battleship appearing on their intelligence’s radar dwarfs their battlecruisers.

“Holy hell,” Poe says, “I've never seen anything like this.”

Leia gapes in horror as a battleship the breadth of the horizon descends upon the planet, just over the Senate rotunda. It suffocates Coruscant in its shadow. How the hell are they gonna blow that thing out of the sky?

“Leia, we need to—”

“Get our asses moving. What the hell are you doing standing with me for?”

Poe smirks, ever appreciative of his mentor. “May the Force be with you,” he says, and rushes to his Starfighter.

--

Clones. They served Palpatine during the war, programmed to fight Seperatist battle droids and to preserve the Republic. But upon Palpatine’s assassination and the end of the Sith, the troops were cryogenically preserved in time since the fall of the Sith. Now, they serve their new master Snoke, the high commander of the newly established First Order. Their Supreme Leader.

“General Hux,” Ren says, remaining professional before the swaths of clones arming themselves and piling into shuttles from the immense battlecruiser hangar. He’s masked, cloaked, and ready for battle. “Snoke can handle the Senate. Come to the Temple with me.”

Hux warms at Ben’s—no, Ren’s concern for him. He loves him, and every bit of it is reciprocated. “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s them I don’t trust. I want you by my side where I know you’ll be protected.”

Damned what the lesser officers and clones think. Hux caresses Ren’s helmet as he’s done many times before. “Once I’ve secured the Senate and you’ve cornered the Jedi Masters, I’ll meet you there. I promise.” Snoke’s plan begins with overtaking the Senate and ends at the Jedi Temple. They’ll build their Order on the ashes of both.

Ren wishes he had time to kiss Hux goodbye.

Hux and a legion of troops descend on the Senate's docking bay. He hangs back as the clone troopers fire willingly into the scattering crowd of dignitaries. This rotunda will be rubble soon enough.

Once the hangar is filled with warm corpses, he leads his clones into the enormous catacomb. They'll have to lay the charges in the deepest levels if the rotunda is to be destroyed without a chance of salvaging a fiber of its foundations. His distracted heart fades to Ren, his knight, facing dangers of his own. If anything happens to him, Hux will burn whoever responsible.

As if thoughts of Ren summoned her, Senator Leia Skywalker impedes his march with an expertly aimed blaster rifle. The clones draw their weapons but with a swift ‘stand down’ from Hux, the troopers point their blasters to the floor.

Leia doesn’t reciprocate the gesture, stunned into silence by Hux’s sparing of her life.

Hux fidgets, blaster in hand. What is he doing? He should be capturing her, executing her, anything but hesitating. “You’re too late,” he says. “They’re already storming the Jedi Temple.”

Leia’s even, relentless stare retains his uninterrupted attention. “It’s him, isn’t it?” Hux says nothing. She already knows the truth. “If you let him go through with this, he could die,” she says, attempting to appeal. She’s seen Hux on the holorecording. Hux is in love with Ben. He’d do anything for him.

“You’re wrong. He’ll win. It’s time you accept he’ll be more powerful than any Jedi or Sith. He’s one of us now.”

“You're going to get him killed.”

“Enough!” Hux snaps, paranoia spiking. He needs to end this. It's time to complete the transfer of power. He must finish her.

His heart goes to Ben, how fondly he always spoke of his mother. Their bond is something Hux has always envied. Ben wouldn't want anything to happen to her. And Ben is gone, Kylo Ren is now his heart.

In a moment of profound weakness, Hux drops his weapon. He doesn't do this for anyone or anything but Ben, the man he fell in love with, the man they destroyed together.

“Get out of here,” he tells her. She’s one of his most influential enemies and he’s letting her go. Leia gapes in incredulous shock but doesn't waste any more time. She heads for the secret docking bay.

Hux stands awkward and out of place. He regains his momentum. “Let's finish this.”

Just as his troops hurry back into play, a shrill, furious pain wrangles his mind. A sordid scream erupts from his throat as he buckles to his knees. A mental link, a connection forged without his knowledge or consent.

You're only still here because Kylo Ren fancies himself a pet, comes Snoke’s poisonous threat. Your power here only goes so far. Retrieve Leia Skywalker and see to her capture. Anything like this happens again, I’ll tear you apart from the inside out.

“Yes, Supreme Leader!” Hux wails, startling his concerned troops. “Find her,” he orders. They falter, confused by their commander’s change of instruction. “Now!”

Deep where anyone but a Senate native would have a hard time navigating, Leia sprints through the subterranean tunnels of the rotunda. The only explanation for the ease of her escape is that Hux let her go either because he was gonna blow the building anyway, or on some level, he knows Ben’s still there.

“Luke. Answer me,” Leia comms her brother. “Dammit, Luke. Answer your comm!”

Nothing. She pushes through the halls, praying Luke will receive her message in time. “It’s Ben. He’s turned. Please. Don’t—” don’t kill him. Please don’t kill him. “Luke...do what you have to do. But I know Ben is still there. There’s still a heart in him.”

Chapter Text

The doors to the Temple are sealed but writhe with the efforts of their intruders. Laser cannons from the sky, bolts from blaster rifles perforate the once silent halls.

“Take her and leave,” Luke orders Master Mara Jade.

Rey stands a whole four and a half feet tall, poised with her lightsaber. “I’m not going anywhere. The Temple is our home. We must defend it.”

“He’s right,” Mara tells her daughter. “You and the other younglings have to get out of here. They’re coming.”

“Who’s coming?!” Finn exasperates, terrified yet trying his best to be brave.

“The bad guys. The Sith,” Rey says, equally as terrified and brave.

Luke and Mara make a unanimous decision. “Finn, Rey. Your mission is the lead the younglings and other Padawan to the vaults. Lock yourselves inside.”

“We’ll be trapped like street rats!” Rey exclaims. “Let us fight alongside you. A Padawan should never leave their master’s side.”

“I’m not saying this as your master. I’m saying this as your mother! Now go.” Mara begs one final look at her daughter, who takes so much to crack. When she does, she grabs Finn’s hand and rushes for the locked down classrooms.

She turns to Luke, her once-lover but permanent friend. “You think she’s gonna listen to a word I said?”

“Not on your life. But they’ll get the younglings safe. They understand the value of knowing when to—”

An ear-splitting explosion wracks the Temple walls, throwing the Jedi masters backwards into the nearest surface. Mara into a pole, knocking her unconscious, and Luke into the nearest wall. His ears ring and his vision blurs from a stun grenade. Blearily, he reaches out with the Force.

Luke’s abruptly assaulted by a beacon of darkness, unlike anything he’s ever felt. It’s harrowing to the bone, a shock of the senses. A black clad figure shoots him with a dart, clogging his senses further. Manacles trap his wrists and he slowly succumbs to the dart’s affects.

Kylo Ren orders two troopers to gather his incapacitated ex-master. He feels no remorse, for the dark side is his ally in which all his misgivings dispel. “Carry him up to the Council chambers. We’ll finish him off there.”

The troopers comply without hitch.

Kylo Ren surveys the damage. Limp bodies of dozens of Jedi—knights and masters—riddle the hall. Destroying their front forces was criminally easy, he’s embarrassed for them. Pride swells within. He’s so grateful Snoke took him under his wing and showed him the truth of the Jedi. Cowardice, hypocrisy, and permanently stuck in the past. With the First Order, under Snoke, and alongside his love, Hux, he’ll surpass the unattainable. He’ll be more of a legend than Anakin Skywalker ever was.

He ignites his lightsaber. The red paints the dilapidated halls. A rush of uninjured Jedi fill the space before him, ready to fight. Ren lunges and employs every lethal move, the clones behind him punctuating his kills. Expertly trained Jedi soldiers fall like cannon fodder, humans and humanoids alike.

“Sir,” the vanguard trooper says once the Jedi are neutralized. “Snoke’s in the Council chambers. He’s taken down the Jedi masters defending it. But Luke Skywalker has yet to be delivered.”

Ren recoils, the first chink in his armor shining through. He should have known Luke was faking his disorientation. “I’ll take care of him myself.”

Around the corner, Luke focuses on the Force inward, concentrating on snapping the magcuffs. The manacles give to his unparalleled abilities, as had the easy to manipulate minds of the masked soldiers manhandling him. He extricates his lightsaber just in time to meet face to face with the real threat to democracy—the masked Force-user. The dark side wielder.

“There’s no end to this where you come out on top,” Luke threatens, brandishing his green blade.

Ren steps forward. He should have just killed him when he had the chance! Like he killed Solo. “You’ve already lost.”

“Speaking a bit too soon, aren’t you?”

Surprising everyone, Ren reaches for his helmet with his free hand. He’s going to relish Luke’s shock. He’ll relish it as he’ll relish carving his once-master up with his red-spitting blade.

The mask falls to reveal Luke’s greatest failure. Luke shudders, gutted. How could he have not seen his worst nightmares come into fruition? Please let this be a poisonous dream. “Ben…”

“I destroyed Ben, just like I destroyed Han Solo. Just like I’m going to destroy you,” Ren promises.

Luke’s consumed with grief for what his Padawan has become. “This isn’t what Anakin would have wanted. This isn’t what he died for!”

Ren growls, animalistic, enraged. He’s so sick of the damned legacy of Anakin Skywalker. “Anakin has been dead for years. You never even knew him.”

In a frenzied uproar, red on green sizzle and spark in the chaotic halls of the Temple. Ren’s troops are occupied with a sudden influx of knights and Republic enforcement with droves of backup troops funneling in on both sides. But Luke’s fight is solely with Ben, his failed apprentice. Their blades parry and spin, twin Skywalker energies pulsing off one another and breaking them apart.

“This isn’t you,” Luke tries.

“You don’t know me.” Ren raises his saber accusingly. “You kept me tied down, burdened. Alone,” he laments, a lifetime of abandonment by his parents, rejection from the Jedi crushing him from all angles.

“I’m so sorry. You’re a son to me, Ben. I never meant—”

Luke is cut off by Ren’s ruthless strike. “You’re nothing to me!” he hisses, blood thrumming with faith in his hatred.

“This isn’t the end,” Luke pleads.

“It is for you, my old master.”

A blaster bolt scorches Ren’s shoulder, stunning and incapacitating him. Instinctively, Ben spins around to wrangle his assailant. He employs the darkness and throttles the threat by their throat before he can identify them.

Young Rey hangs in the air clutching at her throat, her short legs kicking viciously midair. Utterly repulsed by his actions, he releases Rey and she falls into a ready squat. Panicking, Ren tosses aside her blaster—a large one she commandeered from a clone—and raises his saber to Luke in defense.

Ren doesn’t have a chance to parry Luke’s blow when a violent burst of energy swipes Ren into the duracrete wall. Mara Jade, concussed and bruised and bleeding, uses all the strength in her frame to try and knock him out.

“Get out of here,” she orders Rey.

Rey stands, coughing from Ben’s attack. Tears stripe her cheeks, lips pinched in heartache and contempt for her cousin, her brother. How could he betray the Jedi like this? “Mother, this isn’t right. We have to help him.”

“We will. But this is a war zone. Go with the other Padawan. Protect them, just as you’ve protected your father.”

Rey is smart. She knows staying here will get her killed. Please, Ben. Don’t do this, she sends to her cousin before seeking refuge.

Ren groans, buckling against the wall. He calls his saber back to his hand. Rey’s words in his mind touch him deeply—but how can she understand? She’s only a child. He’s seen how the Jedi treats their students, the faults of the system his mother devoted her life to. The power of the darkness is superlative to anything the Jedi could offer.

To Ren’s horror, he spots Hux marching through the blast way, escorted by countless troopers but unprotected by himself, the only person he trusts to do so properly. He wants nothing more than to barricade every entry way, ensuring Hux's safety. But Mara and Luke’s twin green blades assault his. None of their blows are lethal, only defensive.

“There's still time,” Luke says, panting in exertion.

The blaster bolt wound screams on his shoulder. “Not for you.”

In the distance, Hux orders the execution of a trifecta of cornered Jedi knights. Enraged, Mara lunges for him, deflecting the torrent of blaster fire. She slashes through troopers and gets in a hair's breadth of cleaving Hux in two, before she's throttled through the air at breakneck speed from a deliverance of dark energy unlike ever she's ever encountered.

Ren screams, slick, dark, passionate evil enlivening his every cell. They will not touch him. Anyone who tries will not be left alive!

“Ben,” Luke gasps, so close to ending it all and striking down his Padawan where he stands. But he can't lose faith. He knows Ben’s in there somewhere. “Please—”

Ben growls as he grabs Luke by the throat. Distantly, Luke senses Mara limping away for cover. Ben's darkness is too overpowering, sufficiently suffocating him harder than any grip on his throat.

“Finish him,” comes the unmistakable voice of his new master. Snoke floats over in a levitating chair, hand poised over the controls.  “Finish the Jedi and your training will begin. Our Order can properly birth once the Temple is purged.”

Kylo Ren hisses, administering unprecedented pressure on Luke’s windpipe. For sentiment’s sake, he relieves just enough to hear him struggle. “Any last words, Master?”

“Don't—don't hurt her,” Luke pleads, his final act in this realm fighting for his daughter.

Ren wavers, nostrils flaring as if fighting the sting of tears. “I'll turn her.”

 “She won't turn. She won't,” Luke grates. “She's the Light. But she's not the only one.”

“Finish him,” Snoke orders. “Finish him now!”

The Light. Ren swallows, heart heavy with dread. The Light, it's there. Unchanged but abandoned. Anakin’s Light, dormant in his genes since before his birth. His hand lessens its grip, judgement unclouding. He releases Luke.

A sordid scream echoes around the trembling Temple walls. To Ren’s horror, Hux is whipped through the air and dropped in a bruising heap at Snoke’s feet.

“I've slain the Jedi masters, all of them but this one. Finish the deed, Kylo Ren. If you don't, the Jedi will come after Armitage. They'll take him from you. They'll hunt him like an animal.”

Ren panics, conflict tearing him apart at the seams. Hux’s eyes blur with tears at the frightening pressure of Snokes hold on him. He's never felt a thing like it. It hits him then, how weak and perishable he is. Snokes plucked him off his feet without a care for his safety or dignity. For the first time in his life, Snoke’s power is oppressive, not liberating. Hux chokes down a whimper as he cringes around Snoke’s invisible hold on him. How is this any different than his life of abuse and subservience under Brendol?

“When I found you, I was taken aback by your power. So natural, so much potential. I've been inside you since you were a boy, Kylo Ren. There is nothing about you that I don't already know. There isn't a doubt that you have the strength to do this. For him, Ren. For Armitage.”

Hux chokes, silent and pleading. When he looks at Ben now, eyes ruddy with torment, skin pale and sickly in distress, the permanent need to just be with Ben rises above all his longing for power, for destruction, to prove himself worthy of the crown. To be the man Brendol never saw in him.

All Hux wants is Ben. The passionate, brave, caring open heart he fell in love with. Not war, not this facsimile of power as Snoke’s tool. Not Ren. He just wants Ben.

But Snoke keeps his throat and tongue still. He's never felt so powerless, and he blames himself for tugging Ben’s string hard enough to bring them to this moment. If Ben falls and takes him down with him, he'll be burdened with blame.

The hall of hearts beat wildly, uncertain of Kylo Ren’s next move. A flash of lightning unlike anything they've ever seen, springs from Snoke’s fingertips towards Luke—

It freezes in midair. Ren gapes. Had he done this himself? He looks to Snoke for confirmation. Snoke is frozen. Stiff, unmoving like a statue in eternal action. He doesn't understand what he's witnessing. Hux is stiff, too, tears beading in his sightless green eyes, hands curled into fists. Luke’s eyes are fixed on the stagnant lightning bolt, unseeing of Ren’s confusion. Ren spins around.

The entire battle is frozen in place. He doesn't understand why or how he's doing this. He doesn’t know what to call this.

You are not what they say you are. You never were.

Ben shivers. Somehow, in his blood, he knows the voice speaking through him. He knows the power capable of hindering time, pausing battle like a holorecording. There's only one being powerful enough to do so, and the Force affirms the belief into truth. Anakin Skywalker, who passed long before he could see his legacy grow.

Ben can't form a thing to say. The connection is lapsing. He scrambles for something to saw back. I'm so sorry, his heart speaks for him.

The connection rapidly closes. There's still time, Anakin assures him. It's more than enough.

Ben sobs. What has he done? His face twists in despair at the war around him. It's all his doing, all his fault. The world buffers in place, still waiting to be reactivated. Perhaps this is his punishment, eternity in this in-between place. Hux’s sorrow and pain shining through his unshed tears. Luke’s terror bleached in electric white from Snoke’s haggard claws.

“I never doubted you would fall where we couldn't follow,” his mother’s unmistakable voice echoes melodically behind him. Ben whips around fast enough to feel the tears chill his cheeks. There his mother stands, plain as day.

“How are you doing this?” Ben asks, completely drained.

“The Force is bringing us together. Though, you and I both know who was powerful enough to start it.” Leia soundlessly steps forward, sets her cool palm on Ben’s cheek. “Ben…Anakin felt it. We both did. This isn't you.”

“I killed him,” Ben whispers, aching with guilt. “He's dead because I couldn't control myself. This storm inside me.”

Leia softens, pouring her heart into it all. “Your father's alive.”

Ben doesn't believe it. “What?”

“He's injured, but still kicking. He's being cared for and its touch and go, but he's got a chance.”

A breath of relief shakes from him. His father is alive?

“Anakin’s right. There's still time. You can end it before it starts,” Leia urges, sure of her son’s Light. “You’re our only hope.”

“I can't be that son you wanted me to be. I can't be a legend or a Jedi.”

“This isn't about what the Jedi want for you or hell, even what I want. What do you want?”

Helplessly, Ben shifts his dewy eyes to Hux's unseeing ones. “I wanted to give him everything. I wanted him to look at me and be in awe of my power. To rule by my side.”

Leia persists. “What do you want now?”

“Just him,” Ben weeps. Just Hux.

“You know what to do. And it's not because of some prophecy of the Jedi or the Skywalker legacy. It's about you doing what's right, being who you always have been.”

Ben summons what's left of his courage. He raises the blade of his lightsaber and drives it into Snoke’s blazing lightning. The world shifts around him back into motion.

Snoke only has a fraction of a second to make sense of what his once-apprentice has done before Ben impales him with his hissing saber. Snoke wails in agony and his last act—a violent, white explosion of energy—sends everyone surrounding him hurtling backwards in heaps on the ground.

The galaxy resumes its enduring spin.

Luke blinks away the bleaching light spots in his eyes. He gets to his feet, spine protesting from the abuse of battle. Distantly, he sees Mara Jade holding up her saber, defending a wounded knight. The troopers have drawn their weapons but are waiting for their next orders.

Ben groans and finds his bearings, limbs numb from Snoke’s electrocution. His lightsaber lays abandoned on the floor and is swept up by a Force pull, presumably Luke. But Ben could care less about his weapon or victory. Regaining his strength, he crawls along the floor for Hux. His prone form smokes from Snoke’s explosion.

“No,” Ben whimpers, cradling Hux’s slim, limp body. Hux’s face is lax and peaceful like it had been back on Arkanis, when all they had to worry about was if they had to bring an umbrella on their walks together. Ben sobs and cradles Hux’s cheek, begging between sniffles for him to wake up.

“Ben,” Luke urges, his hands still trembling in shock from Snoke’s explosion. There’s no use in thanking his Padawan for making the right choice. From his projection of heartbreak and despair, Ben would be deaf to it. “We’ll call a medic team. You shouldn’t move him.”

Ben thumbs Hux’s cheekbone, reaching out and holding onto Hux’s life force as tight as he can. The Force assures him Hux isn’t near death nor close to it. But that’s as far as the Force can diagnose. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.

“Ben,” Luke tries again, closer this time.

Instinctively, Ben tugs Hux’s blaster from his hip and shakily aims it for Luke’s face. “Stay back. Stay away from him.” War or no war, dark side or Light, Hux is their enemy. Now more than ever. He doesn’t care about the power or the First Order or the Jedi—it can all burn. They won’t take Hux from him. He’ll fight to the death if he must.

“I don’t want to kill him any more than I wanted to kill you. I know how much he means to you,” Luke says, for there is no mistaking the depth of Ben’s devotion to him. Ben’s under the influence of a power far greater than anything the dark side can conjure. He’s madly in love.

“I can’t take that chance,” Ben whispers, “I’m so sorry, Master.” There’s only one way out of here.

Where there was conflict, there is a decision. Ben stands, raising a fist into the air and alerting the troops around him. He turns to Luke, lips tugged into a pained line. He’s only doing this because he knows with Luke’s help, the Jedi can clear out the clones before any more come pouring in. “Capture this man. Alive,” he says to the clones, all his faith in his master. This is the only way he can get Hux out of here without any Jedi following him.

This hall was once a gateway; now, a battlefield. Luke readies his battle stance and dismembers the clones coming for him, parrying their blaster fire and stun-batons. It’s not long before he’s taken down a dozen, then two, until the dwindling numbers cease to nothing when a wave of ready and able Jedi knights flood the battleground.

Mara rushes to his side. “Where’s Ben?”

Whipping around, Luke’s hand squeezes Ben’s cross-guarded lightsaber. Ben is nowhere to be found. Hux is gone, too. As hurt as he is that Ben’s left, gratitude blossoms for his Padawan’s cleverness. He knew the clones would be no match for Luke’s master swordsmanship. Ben did what he had to do to save the man he loved.

The able and injured Jedi rush outside to survey the damage. Luke’s heart sings with victory when Republic starfighters clear the enemy from the skies. Starfighters fire upon the laser cannons of the enemy. The main battleship looms high, preparing for departure. They’ve lost their high command and must retreat into their territory, but not before the Republic can disarm their enormous guns. With a powerful thrum, the ship vanishes into lightspeed, slithering away like a wounded beast forced into flight.

“You did it!” cheers Rey, toting Finn along her spirited sprint. “You saved the Temple.” Her parents may not be married like other kid’s parents and may not kiss like the ones on the holos, but they are heroes, brave and strong and everything she wants to be. “Where’s Ben? Is he alright?”

Damned the code. Luke hugs his daughter, kissing her bunned head. Mara does the same and anoints her daughter with a kiss to her grinning cheek. “Ben left,” Mara confesses. “But he killed Snoke. He saved us from himself.”

Rey’s split between elation and betrayal. Ben saved the day, but he left. Second to Finn, Ben’s her best friend. The dark side made him hurt her because the Ben she loves would never have tried to strangle her. On cue, Finn side-hugs Rey with warm comradery.

“He pulled through when we needed him to. It’s what counts,” Luke assures her. “But his loyalties aren’t with the Jedi. They never were. You and I both know Ben’s got so much love to give. It makes sense he was gonna go nuts with it.”

Rey pauses, narrowing her eyes. “You mean Hux? His boyfriend?” Her and Finn decided long ago that Ben and Hux were boyfriends.

“What—how did you know about Hux?” Luke asks, perplexed at his daughter’s never-ending insight.

“It’s called a comm, Master Luke,” she shakes her head.

Luke frowns, then scrambles for his comm. It blips with countless unseen messages, mostly from Leia. Leia! He punches the screen, desperate to find out her status.

Leia, unlike her brother, knows how to answer her damn comm. “He’s safe,” Leia says first-thing, always strong when Luke doubts himself.

“How do you know?” he asks, then: “how are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m at the medical wing. For Han, not me.”

“Han? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later. What’s the status at the Temple? Republic enforcement is neutralizing the bombs they planted in the Rotunda. It’ll be hours before anyone can enter it.”

Luke breathes a sigh of relief. For Leia, for Ben, for the Jedi they almost lost today. His heart stings for the ones they had. The Council Snoke had destroyed, the fallen knights. He focuses on hope, and hope persists. “Any word from Ben?”

“Not officially. But I sense he’s left the system. He’s running, Luke. He knows what’s gonna happen to Hux if he stays.” 

“I know. I’m glad,” he says, the confession as shocking to hear as it is to believe.

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve got you,” whispers the voice. Hux lolls his head towards the beacon. He wants to feel more than words.

“Ben,” he mumbles, shivering at the pets to his hair.

Ben swallows, unable to face Hux’s scrutiny or betrayal, not yet. The First Order shuttle thrums around them and the lightspeed blue drowns all color from Hux’s face. If Hux wakes prematurely, before he has time to properly rest and before Ben has enough courage to tell him what he did, he fears Hux will resent him. He’d hate him for abandoning their raid, leaving the First Order, slaying Snoke, and squandering all hope in enlivening their vision as the galaxy’s authority.

Hux smiles against a scratchy cloth. One deep sniff tells him it’s Ben’s, probably his cowl. He aches from head to toe and can’t move without groaning in pain, but Ben’s here, hand in his hair. He has no reason to fear for his life. Ben will protect him.

He opens his eyes. They’re in hyperspace.

“What happened?” he asks, voice cracking. “Where are we?”

“We’re leaving.”

“Leaving where?” When Hux doesn’t get a response, he sits up, bracing against the cramping of his battered limbs. Tears well in Ben’s eyes. He hangs his head, silently weeping. “Ben, talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt?”

Ben scrubs his gloveless fist against his face. “I killed Snoke. We lost. I couldn’t kill my master and I couldn’t kill Rey. And the Force showed me what I needed to do. It showed me what was worth fighting for—”

“Ben,” Hux interrupts, chest full.

“—and it was you. Just you. Not power, not anything. You’re all I care about. I’d do anything to be with you and keep you safe, even if that means you’ll hate me for it.”

“Ben,” Hux whispers. He thumbs Ben’s wobbling lip. “All my life I wanted to get away. You’ve given me that.”

Hux takes in all of Ben’s flickering emotions: confusion, shock, unbridled awe. “You took a chance to be there for me in a way no one else ever had,” Hux whispers. All the power in the galaxy could never match up to the way Ben completes him. “And fuck Snoke. He was a tyrant. Just as bad as my father, if not worse. The things he said about you, how he’s been using you since you were a baby. I never wanted to kill someone more.”

Hux is tugged into a clumsy embrace, Ben’s scrunched face wetting his neck, strong arms encumbering him like a safety net. He reciprocates until Ben flinches. Hux withdraws in horror. “Are you—did you get shot in the back?”

“It’s nothing. Barely a scratch.”

Unacceptable. Hux moves to get to his feet, but his muscles scream in protest. “Don’t move. You’re recovering from Snoke’s explosion. I’ll get a medical kit. Stay put.”

“His explosion?”

Ben returns with a case, standard Arkanian military issue. With Ben’s back to him, Hux peels back his top and administers the anesthetic, comforted at Ben’s sigh of relief. Ideally, they’d have a droid to sew in the synthskin grafts, but he bandages him up as best he can. When he’s finished, he kisses the unbroken skin atop Ben’s shoulder, marveling at the gooseflesh left in his kiss’s wake. Ben leans back and Hux rests his head on Ben’s opposite shoulder, breathing in his warmth.

“Where to now?” Hux asks, cheek brushing his oblong ear.

Ben turns to capture Hux’s lips. Hux kisses him back, tonguing into his lover’s mouth. They part for air that’s lost in the minute space between them. “Hell if I know. I just punched it to the closest route to the Outer Rim.” Ben grins, giddy like a fool. “It’s just you and me now.” Hux’s grin is just as bright.

The Millennium Falcon shoots through hyperspace on a journey unlike the rest. Captain Han Solo isn’t on a trade mission or a smuggler’s route, but a trip to reunite with the boy he abandoned long ago.

It was three years ago that Ben had raided the Jedi Temple and pushed him to his death. But when Han woke, he didn’t get a chance to tell his son how much he loved him, how much he regrets living away from him like a ghost. He hasn’t had a chance to tell him he forgives him.

Han Solo makes the final adjustments to pull from hyperspace, a cluster of buttons blipping chaotically. His copilot Leia holds her breath in hopes her newly wedded husband doesn’t humiliate himself further by scattering them both in three different systems when his rust bucket fails. After a grumbling, tense moment, Han calms the Millennium Falcon and regains control.

Padmé glares at her son-in-law’s back. After Ben left, Han and Leia married on Naboo on a cool autumn evening lined in golden leaves. At the wedding, she and Rey sat front row, hand-in-hand and mourning Ben.

And now, years later, she was impossibly grateful when Ben had sent her a message on her private channel, tearfully apologizing for his desertion. She understood, of course, for Ben left to save the one he loved from rightful prosecution by the Republic. She would have run away with Anakin if the galaxy demanded it.

“We have ships on Naboo. Functional ones,” Padmé deadpans when Han tries to play it cool after the Falcon’s mishap.

“Ben said he’d meet us. He’ll recognize this ship. It’s been three years and I don’t want to take any chances,” Han says, always defensive when Leia’s mother is involved. “Leia, you better tell the passengers we’re almost there.”

Luke, Rey, Finn, and Mara crowd the living area. When Finn’s master died at Snoke’s treacherous hand, Luke assumed the mantle of completing his Jedi training.

“We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace shortly,” Leia tells them. She shares a grateful, knowing look with her brother. They both ache to see Ben again.

Ben had sent Padmé coordinates to a busy colonized moon in the Mid Rim. He made it clear that Hux wouldn’t be there, and that he and Hux have been living quietly in the Outer Rim since they left. Ben assured them he was safe. He’s finally happy.

The moon glitters with flat and tall, sunlit buildings and Han, expert pilot, takes no time at all to dock on the marked landing pad. He can see Ben from the viewport, awe in his eyes.

From the Falcon’s viewport, Han grins as Rey is the first to dart from the half-opened boarding ramp. She propels into Ben’s arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. Han can’t hear anything but it’s clear Ben’s just as happy to see her. He’s probably telling her how big she’s gotten, almost a young woman. Finn hugs Ben next, who looks up to him like a brother, and Mara after, who cherishes him like a son.

Han tears up when Ben hugs Luke. Not out of envy nor resentment, but gratitude Luke was more of a father to Ben than he ever had been.

“Reunions usually entail you getting out of the ship,” Leia says wryly, kissing her husband on the temple.

“I know. I just wanted to give them a moment.”

Han and Leia leave the freighter just in time to see Padmé embrace her grandson, to see the tears welling in Ben’s eyes. When Ben parts with his grandmother, he gapes helplessly at his mother, overwhelmed. He holds her close, hunching over her petite form.

“I missed you, Ma,” Ben blubbers. It’s been three years. It’s been difficult to part with his family for so long, but being with Hux has always made it worthwhile.

“I missed you too, Ben,” Leia whispers. “You look good.”

“We’ve been making it work. You know why I had to leave, right?”

“I know. You’ve always had such an open heart. All that matters is that you’re safe. And look at you. You look even better than before,” she smiles.

“Hux and I’ve been working. Just making a living.”

Han shuffles behind the small crown, awkward and out of place. Ben easily takes notice and pauses conversation with Leia to reconnect with his father.

“It’s good to see you, kid.”

Ben swallows, years of guilt for what he’d done, what he almost did, tightening his gut. He nods, still so ashamed.

Han is the first to break. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”

“Like hell I’m not. The way I treated you—the kind of guy I used to be. I’d kill him myself if I could.”

Ben’s lip wobbles. Han takes the decisive step, and once he has Ben’s permission, he takes him in a careful embrace. “I’m sorry,” Ben whispers, holding on tight.

“I know, kid. Me too.”

--

The sunrise peaks through the stain glass window and paints Hux’s naked back with red and violet kisses, natural warmth permeating his skin enough to wake him. He feels around for Ben and frowns to find their bed empty. He must not have come in from his trip last night.

Hux checks his messages in a cloaked comm he and Ben use those rare instances they aren’t together. Ben’s message is clear: I’m a few hours out. I’ll see you in the AM.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hux starts to fry up Ben’s favorite breakfast. Sausage and pancakes with a side of the strongest frothed caf money can buy in the Outer Rim.

Ben, his personal scoundrel, bought him this loft using the credits from their sold First Order shuttle. It had been a huge payout—such tech had been virtually unheard of in the Outer Rim, so Ben was able to save a chunk of it for living expenses.

He and Ben began to work. First, odd jobs. Merchant work, mostly. It wasn’t until Ben brought home an enormous check that Ben confessed he’d been taking evenings to do private security work and was ashamed he kept it from Hux but then he had enough to purchase a ship. It was safer having a getaway in reserve, despite Hux’s vehemence that Ben shouldn’t put himself at unnecessary risk. Sometimes it’s stressful being in love with a scoundrel.

The sausages are lined up in even rows on twin plates, followed by a modest stack of the sweetened pancakes Ben adores. He heaps extra cakes onto Ben’s plate. Leftover mixed berries are sprinkled on top and the caf is the last thing to set in place.

A familiar creaking of the outside patio tells him Ben is home. Hux smiles and begins to scrub out his skillet.

Ben greets his lover with a congenial side-hug, and he kisses Hux on his smirking lips. “I wish you told me you’d be gone all night.”

“Didn’t you get my message?”

“After the fact.”

Ben shakes his head, plopping down at their small table to dig in to Hux’s cutely prepared breakfast. When they started living together, Ben had been the primary cook. Which only made Hux want to learn how so he didn’t feel like he was being doted on like an invalid.

“How did it go?” Hux asks, anxiety goading to uncontrollable levels. Ben just met with his family he abandoned. Hux’s worse nightmare would be to lose Ben in this great galaxy. Ben’s the only thing he has.

“It went well. It was surreal. I kind of accepted I’d never see them again, so this really shook me.”

Hux nods, casting his eyes low. “They’re your family. It pains me to see you apart from them like this.”

Ben pauses on a mouthful of sausage, as usual reading Hux like a book. He clears his mouth. “We’re both criminals wanted for treason. I couldn’t return if I wanted to.”

“And do you?” Hux asks, too quickly.

Ben takes Hux’s hand, massaging the soft, unmarked flesh of his palm. “No. Not a chance. Coming home to you is the best part of my day. Knowing you’re safe—I’ve never had such peace of mind.”

Hux smiles, youthful and radiant. In that moment, like many others, Ben wants nothing more than to marry him and die as two stinking old men. Soon, he’ll go out and find the perfect ring.

“You make me feel safe,” Hux replies. He thanks the universe every day that Ben fell into his lap.

Afterwards, Hux takes their dishes to the sink. He loves washing things, cleaning and organizing. Ben comes up behind him to mouth at the back of his neck. Ben doesn’t like to keep his hands to himself, especially after a long trip.

“I want to find her,” Hux says, interrupting the white noise of the faucet.

Ben kisses his earlobe. “Hm?”

Setting the half-washed dish down, Hux turns around in Ben's arms and grips his clothed biceps, leaving a trail of dampness in his wake.

“Back on Arkanis, my father had a wife for a few years until she passed. But she wasn't my birth mother. I always felt my real mother had lived despite what my father said about her.”

Ben cradles Hux’s beautiful face. He's gotten plenty of sun these past few years. His red hair hangs loose and silky against his ears, favoring one side. “Of course, we can try to find her.”

“This isn't because I want to leave here. I just want to make that clear. I’ve never been happier here. With you.”

“I know. I understand. You know I do.”

Hux kisses him, full of devotion. “Thank you, Ben.”

Ben holds him. Their hearts beat against each other’s chests. Content shines in their eyes, crinkled at the corners, foretelling of their lives of peaceful aging together. For the first time, the future is tangible, the present is real, and the past is a lifetime away.