The Lady of Ren

Limerence

"Ambassador, I would very much like to avoid meeting with the queen."

The general's booming voice carries down the halls as he still tugs Oya along in a firm grip. He struggles to keep up. A small grin peaks at the corners of your mouth while you pretend to remain incredulous about his concern of seeing the queen.

Please, if he thinks you this oblivious he obviously doesn't know you at all.

"Not fond of politicians either, are you Hux?" The smile threatening to dominate your lips does exactly that – you stifle a giggle but he can't see it.

The general sniffs. "Not fond of politicians..." he grumbles. "I am a politician." He continues to trek forth and finally reaches your side. Your smile immediately fades, a neutral expression camouflaging your mien. "It's just..."

"This one in particular?" you guess.

The hangar is in view. Stormtroopers and engineers are lining up for the queen's arrival, postures upright and mouths turned downward. Such a warm welcome. Maybe it'll scare her off, you think with malevolent desire.

Hux stops in the middle of the hallway and shifts Oya in his arms. You wait for him to speak, eyebrows arched and temper clouded by Hux's anxiety. For the love of kriff, was this the General of the First Order? Or had he been replaced by a frightened little boy?

"You don't have to answer that. I already know," you dismiss. "She made it pretty clear there was something between the two of you."

His eyes widen, maybe uncertain how to react. And you don't blame him. You couldn't imagine being reunited with your (dare you say it?) first love after years of separation. Then again, you hadn't ever fallen in love before Kylo. How were you to know? Maybe Hux didn't love her. Maybe he just...

"It was nothing," he says firmly.

The fear in his eyes says something else entirely. "I don't believe that," you tell him. "But it's not my concern."

You turn on your heels for the queen's ship. The Tempest, you believe is its name. It's a grand ship – much more impressive than necessary and probably far too expensive for a queen just starting her term. Its exterior was extremely well kept which told you it was more than likely new. If she walked out in a gown made of velvet, you'd vow to stage a coup.

The ramp falls and slowly but surely the queen of Baeline walks out of her dazzling ship wearing a black, velvet, jumpsuit. An outlander wreath has been pinned to her lapel to showcase her status as queen.

"I swear to the gods..." you mutter under your breath. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and it takes everything in you.

Hux's breath has stalled. The look on his face has frozen completely – it's the sort of expression that only a jaded man wears. At the sight of her, with hair as light as distant stars, the general (a man who you have seen only once in diminutive form) chokes on his words.

"I'd stay away from her if I were you," you mumble to him. "I don't trust her."

The general barely parts his lips to say, "I agree."

Once more, you turn your attention to the queen. You wish you hadn't invited her. Why had you succumbed to this low-point?

But then you see her.

Orion.

The elder Pantoran woman follows close behind the royal party. She's using a cane made of wood, struggling each and every step of the way in order to keep up. The brilliant yellow marks that line her cheeks show vividly against the aqua blue of her skin. Your heart bloats with admiration. It's been months since you'd seen her – seven, to be exact.

Sabyr steps forward, abandoning Orion behind her. If you could, you'd slap the pin latched onto her torso; she didn't deserve it. "Ambassador Ren."

You watch her blue eyes very steadily...coldly. "Your majesty. Welcome to Yanni," you force between your teeth.

The general shifts uncomfortably next to you but you sense he's trying very hard to compose himself. Sabyr notices, her expression blasé. "Armitage. Charming as always."

Armitage?

The redhead clears his throat. He absolutely refuses to look at her dead on. "Your majesty. How very delightful to see you again."

You resist the urge to grin wickedly.

"Your majesty? So formal. I supposed we'd be on a first name basis by now."

Hux sighs in relief when Orion arrives at Sabyr's side. He immediately hands Oya to her like a ragdoll, though the child hesitates to let him go. Her lips pout a bit, lower lip jutting.

"You thought wrong. Good day," he ends with, departing from the hangar.