You're a powerful political figure for the planet of Baleine and a strong ally of the First Order. Your relationship with Kylo Ren has formed into a martial alliance out of mutual respect and the demand of Supreme Leader Snoke.
Your affiliation with...
He was here. Right there. The shape of Kylo's form has suddenly morphed into a younger man with his child resting on his hip. Yes, he had the scar. He had the uniform. He had his long, raven, hair...but Kylo had gone. Gone like yesterday's weather.
He says your name and it slices through your subconscious like a knife. You've been hastily brought back to reality. You blink once, twice, and three times before clearing your throat.
"What?" You smile warmly, attempting to discharge all previous inclinations to a much farther place. A place where you hope you'd never see it again. You wipe the strange look off your visage and reach for Enyos. "I'll take it her for now. You're late."
Kylo hands you the gurgling baby girl. "Yes. You're right..." he leans in to kiss the top of her curly hair before turning to you. "I won't be long. Just a couple of days."
You nod in submission, feeling cold and suddenly very alone.
"Who will take care of you on that ship?" you smirk, petting the lapel of his torso. "The Finalizer is..."
"It's the Supremacy," he interrupts.
You freeze, blood pooling to your feet. "Snoke's ship?"
Kylo hesitates, a hand brushing through Enyos's curls. "Yes," he answers without meeting your gaze.
The mention of Snoke's name blurs your vision. You hug Enyos close to your chest in order to stay grounded and study the way Kylo gazes at the child in your arms. He looks as though...
You grab him by his cape and pull him close to you. Enyos, still in your arms, has been sandwiched between your bodies. She leans her sore ear against her father's heartbeat. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Breath barely escapes your lungs.
"Come. Back. Home."
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By the time the queen had arrived you'd been stewing in your thoughts for so long you were marinated.
The children were in their play-pen next to your desk, babbling with one another as though they were carrying on a real conversation. Enyos was chatting animatedly with her sister while Oya pretended to listen, staring at her patties like they were interesting. Shiva had been messing with a rattle for the past ten minutes. It was at this moment when you realized how much at peace you could be with, well, everything.
But you couldn't get him out of your head. You had seen him. Ben Solo. For the first time in a very, very long time. And though you had noticed fleeting signs – desperate attempts, anyway – you hadn't witnessed the rogue Jedi the way you did this morning.
His eyes...they were lighter.
With a sigh, you rub your face and try to concentrate on your work. You had to prepare for your meeting with the queen. The objective was fairly simple; to plan the dedication of the children into the royal household of Baeline. You imagine a good majority of it were to be agreements on the venue (or disagreements, you suspect, as you've noticed the two of you don't seem to get along). As expected. These traditions were important to the people of Baeline and you wouldn't dare to let them down.
Your face is in your hands when Hux arrives to your room. It's easy to tell when he's near because of the way he walks – how his feet march sternly through the quarters.
"The queen has arrived," he tells you.
Your words are muffled by your palms. "She can wait."
He hesitates. Going off schedule? Blasphemous.
"I'm sorry, what?" he replies, icily.
You lift your head and notice he's kept quite a distance from the children. He stands at the end of the room rigidly, eyes darting back and forth between you and the triplets with a sense of uneasiness. What the hell was his problem?
"Do you have a problem with my children?" you ask him suddenly.
The ginger raises his eyebrows, pupils widening at the indictment. You can tell he's about to lie, to say something like, Ren would kill me if I got less than ten feet of them, but he falters.
"I..." he pauses, the gears carefully shifting in his head. "I don't very much care for children."
You smirk a little before shutting off the timeline of events above your head – a hologram blue and flickering with light. Then you lean back into your chair, steepling your hands and concentrating on the general's eyes.
Uncomfortable indeed.
"Why?" you demand.
Hux tilts his chin in your direction, a scowl forming against his tightened, pink lips. "Excuse me?"
You narrow your eyes. "Why don't you care for children?"
He averts from your eyes, concentrating instead on the space above your head. "I just don't."
You remind yourself of Sabyr and what she had said about the general: "I grew up with him. Our fathers were very close. I haven't spoken to him in years." And when you told her that he was busy, she had replied with, "he always was," very sadly, as you recall.
Interesting. You suppose you'd take that answer...for now.
"Here," you say suddenly, wandering to the children and lifting Oya from her seat on the floor. You grunt; she's gotten heavier. What was it with these kids? Maybe you were overfeeding them...
Hux looks terrified as you hand her to him with her dangling legs and big, brown eyes. He accepts her, though begrudgingly, and says, "What are you..."
"Get used to them," you sneer. "One day, they'll be your superiors."
Hux looks impassively at Oya in his arms. He's holding her as though she's carrying a foul disease, her body suspended above the air before him. The look on his face tells you he's past uncomfortable and is now trudging into another territory entirely.
"What do you want me to do with her?" he asks, lifting his lip in vexation. Oya giggles heartily at him.
You're settling both Shiva and Enyos in both of your arms. Months ago you'd been petrified of holding two babies at once – what if you dropped them? But now it was so natural that you barely flinched when Shiva threatened to edge from your grip. You simply bounced on one knee and he slid easily back into place.
"Carry her. I can't hold all three of them, you know." You begin for the doors and sigh just before exiting the quarters.
A lump forms in your throat. The thought of approaching Sabyr made you, well, gag. You really didn't care for her. The similarities between her and your mother were too...tangible.
"Into the fray," you grumble.
Enyos tightens her grip on your gown. It's as though she knows.
