Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A long time ago in a far off land…

In a castle tucked against a mountainside, surrounded by a great forest, lived a prince. His mother, the queen, was a good sorceress whose abilities had helped their kingdom win a war, though she lost her homeland in the process. During the war she fell for a traveling tradesman and when the war was over, they were married and had a son. Restoring peace to the land was a long and difficult process, but they were happy.

The young prince, however, was not.

He had magic flowing through him, like his mother, but rather than use it for peace, he sought greatness. His grandfather had been a great warrior and the boy dreamed of being like him. Against his mother’s wishes, he trained himself in dark magic. As time went on, his power grew, but it was not enough. Every night he prayed to grow stronger.

One night, a powerful sorcerer appeared before him, clad in grey, flowing robes, surrounded by an aura of dark energy. The prince was in awe.

“Do you wish to have power like mine?” the stranger asked.

“Yes,” the prince replied, “I’d give anything!”

“Anything, you say?”

“Yes!”

The sorcerer grinned, and as he did so, his features twisted, revealing a disfigured old man with eyes like bottomless pits. The prince knew that face from storybooks but never believed he was real: the dark sorcerer known only as Snoke.

“So be it.”

He held out bony hands and a red mist spilled from his fingertips and through the castle. The prince watched in horror as everyone the mist touched was turned into one object or another. Brooms, clocks, pots and pans, books, lamps, enchanted to continue their task but unspeaking, unfeeling. The family’s guards, six skilled warriors and their captain, were turned into suits of armor.

“What have you done?” the prince cried.

“I am simply giving you what you asked for,” the sorcerer replied. “For you cannot have true power with such attachments. You will be my apprentice, and will need only me to guide you.”

“I take it back!” The prince tried to plead with him, but it was too late. The sorcerer turned his magic on him; the red mist surrounded the young man and he screamed, curling in on himself as he began to change.

As this took place, the queen was returning from a journey to a neighboring kingdom. She saw her household transformed and was too late to prevent it, but the queen would not allow this creature to have her son. She stepped forward and from her hands beamed a white light.

She cast the white light over her son, hoping to reverse the dark magic, but the sorcerer’s curse had already begun to take effect. The prince’s body shifted and transformed with sickening pops and cracks. All the while, he screamed, and the sorcerer only laughed.

“Foolish woman. He’s mine now. The dark power in him is too strong and soon it will be mine to control.”

“You’re wrong,” she told him, defiance in her eyes. “I know him, and there is light in him, too.”

She was as wise as she was powerful and she knew there was no use trying to reverse what had already been done to the prince. But she could offer him hope, a way out, if he should seek it.

She removed her necklace and tore off the gem that hung from it – a red crystal the size of a chestnut. She held it in one hand and with the other, motioned to her son. A thin trickle of golden light slipped from his hunched form and into the crystal, filling it until it glowed.

“What have you done?!” shrieked the sorcerer.

“As long as the goodness in him is preserved here, he cannot be yours. He is selfish now, but he can change. When he learns to care for another more than himself, your hold on him will break completely.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he is yours.”

“You aren’t as foolish as I thought. How strong is your magic, though? How long can you preserve the light in him?”

“My spell will last ten years. More than enough time. Perhaps you should find another apprentice.”

A sinister smile spread across the sorcerer’s face.

“No. I will wait.”

The mist withdrew from around the prince and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Then like a gust of wind, the sorcerer disappeared and slipped into the nearest village to lie in wait, disguising himself as an ordinary old man.

The queen cast one last glance to her son. There was nothing more she could do for him. First she turned to the suit of armor that had once been the captain of their guard. With a wave of her hand, the captain had a mind and voice once more, though she was still trapped in that form. She told the captain all that had happened, so that she might help the prince. Then the queen set the crystal on a pedestal and placed a glass cover over it to protect it. She gathered her things and left for a family home far away, where she would join her husband and await news of their son’s fate.

When the prince woke, he was alone. The castle was silent, except for the occasional sweeping of an enchanted broom or creak of armor. He stood and stumbled to the window, hoping to see someone, anyone on the grounds. No one was there, but when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass, he recoiled in horror. It was then that he remembered what had happened: his wish, the sorcerer, the curse. He was overcome with anger and despair. With a scream, he reached out with his power and slammed the castle gates, closing himself inside. He shut the main doors and pulled all the curtains over the windows. Then, in the darkness, he noticed the crystal glowing bright red in its case. He remembered his mother’s voice, what she’d told the sorcerer. And now she was gone, too. Enraged, he took his sword and fled to his quarters, where he wrecked everything he could get his hands on.

He held no hope for the curse being broken, had no desire to seek out one to break it. And so his self-imposed exile began.

He was a monster now, and monsters cared for no one.

Chapter Text

It was a cool but sunny day in the small provincial town. Summer was fading away but some flowers and plants still lingered. It was Sunday and the morning market was in full swing, people bustling to and fro in the town square, friends saying hello, produce and meats and cheese and handmade goods as far as the eye could see. All up and down the narrow streets, people had opened their windows and doors wide, enjoying the last of the nice weather while they could. Somewhere, someone was playing a flute and the music wafted through the village, brightening everyone’s mood further. It was idyllic.

Hux hated it.

All he wanted to do was to get to the odds-and-ends store on the other side of town, where the owner had just gotten a new shipment the day before and told Hux he could pick through it before anything went onto the shelves. If it wasn’t for that, he’d never be caught dead out in the streets during the market. It was noisy, busy, and smelled like fish. He avoided eye contact with the many lingering glances he received as he made his way through the crowd. He couldn’t, however, avoid catching the whispers.

“There he goes again,” one would mumble.

“What a strange young man,” another would say.

“Pity, isn’t it,” a third would add. “He’s quite handsome. Bit odd, though.”

“More than a bit, I’d say.”

“Incredibly rude, too.”

“How would you know? He barely speaks to anyone.”

“He’s really lovely, though, with that hair. I wonder what his mother looks like.”

“Don’t count on seeing her around. Didn’t you hear? He’s the commandant’s bastard. Yeah, that old drunk.”

“What a shame.”

It was nothing new; he had lived here over a month now and he knew how he looked to them: exotic with his bright hair, even more vibrant in the daylight, his pale eyes that nearly matched his blue tunic, porcelain skin splashed with freckles made more prominent by a long, hot summer. Combined with what the townspeople knew of him and his father, he was an easy target. He no longer let their small-minded gossip bother him.

Hux’s father had been a feared and respected commanding officer in the war. During a long campaign away from home he’d had a dalliance with a kitchen maid. When he returned, he brought with him an infant with bright hair and bright eyes, which he immediately dumped on the household servants to raise, his furious wife wanting nothing to do with the child.

Hux was four years old when the war ended. They were on the losing side and his father fell into disgrace. With no money to his name and saddled with a son he never wanted, he soon sent Hux away to school, where Hux excelled in every subject but got along with no one. When he returned home, he hoped to find a good job, perhaps in the military, work his way up and redeem his family name. Instead, he found his stepmother had died and his father was a drunk, the laughingstock of the city. Shortly after, they were driven out by the relentless animosity of people who still blamed his father for their loss. For a few years they traveled from town to town, Hux finding odd jobs here and there, remaining with his father out of obligation more than anything else. Finally his father was offered a job in a mill and that was how Hux ended up in this godforsaken place.

The only living things here he could stand were his cat, Millicent, who went everywhere with him, and the shop owner he was on his way to see. So like always, he clenched his jaw, ignored the stares and whispers, and pressed onward.

Finally he slipped in through the shop door, the only one in town not wide open, and shut it quickly so that no one would follow. He leaned back against it and sighed. The bag hanging from his shoulder shifted a little and he adjusted the opening to allow Millicent to hop out. Normally she’d walk at his feet but on a crowded day like this, he didn’t want to risk her getting kicked or stepped on.

“There you are! I was beginning to think you’d been trampled.”

A small, elderly woman descended a ladder from the attic as she spoke. She was a good deal shorter than Hux, wore baggy overalls, cloth boots and small round glasses, and always had a knowing gleam in her eyes. She was skilled with tools and sharp in conversation; Hux wished there were more people like her around.

“I nearly was. Why do your shipments always come in right before the Sunday market? Do you have a death wish for me, Maz?”

“You’re not very social, are you, dear?” She leaned down to pet the orange tabby cat that was rubbing against her ankles.

“Nonsense. I’m being social right now.”

Maz tutted at him.

“You’re only here to see what’s come in this week. Don’t pretend you’d leave that workshop of yours otherwise.”

Hux couldn’t argue. She was right: his workshop was his only sanctuary. It wasn’t a true workshop so much as a run-down shed beside his father’s house, where he spent most of his days repairing things brought to him by people in town to earn a little money or working on his own projects.

While in school, Hux had briefly studied engineering and quickly found he had a knack for thinking up, designing, and building things, as well as fixing them. He was skilled with his hands and good with numbers, measurements and planning. He dreamed of one day inventing things that would change the world.

He rummaged through the bins of miscellaneous items, most of them used, ranging from clothing and glass and ceramics and wooden things to cogs and nuts and bolts and wires and more. He selected what he thought he could use and presented the items to Maz along with a handful of coins. She shook her head.

“They’re yours.”

“But I…”

“No one else will take that junk. They look at it and see garbage, but you see potential. Just think of me now and then when you’re a great inventor someday, hm?”

She winked at him playfully but somehow Hux knew she wasn’t mocking his dream. She really believed in him.

She was the only one who did.

Hux thanked her and, in an uncharacteristic burst of good nature, clasped her hand briefly before bagging up his items. She shook her head.

“Ridiculous boy. I’ll see you next week?”

“Of course. Thanks again, really.”

“Thank me by putting that junk to good use!”

“I will.”

He scooped up his cat and was out the door.

*

A few days later, Hux reached a standstill in one of his projects: a device that would concentrate heated air and fire it at a single point. He knew what he needed to do next but he didn’t have the correct parts to do it. He’d visited Maz’s shop twice in search of them, but left empty-handed. She scolded him lightly for his impatience, promising a new shipment that coming weekend, but Hux was so close to a breakthrough and it killed him to wait. On top of that, he’d had no clients come to see him for repairs. In his idleness he became frustrated.

By Thursday morning he’d had enough. Just because the parts weren’t here didn’t mean he couldn’t get them. The small town was surrounded by dense woods, but on the other side were more towns, bigger towns with bigger shops. The idea had barely finished crossing his mind and Hux was already packing a bag. If he left now, he could make it through the woods by nightfall, spend a night, get what he needed, and be back Friday evening. His father probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t care.

Without so much as a glance back, he set off on the path, Millicent trailing just behind him. He wasn’t afraid of the woods. In fact, the solitude appealed to him. It was a chance to think, and as he walked and thought he spoke aloud to the cat, told her all his future plans in great detail. He was so wrapped up in his brainstorming that he didn’t notice storm clouds forming overhead; not until there was a loud crack of thunder that made him jump and finally look up.

“That doesn’t look good. We’d better find somewhere to wait it out.”

He turned and to his horror, Millicent wasn’t there. Hux was immediately filled with panic. She hated storms, spooked easily, and didn’t know these woods. She could be anywhere. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d actually last seen her. It could have been five minutes ago, it could have been an hour.

He began to retrace his steps, calling out her name.

A flash of lightning, a boom of thunder, and the storm began.

The rain skipped past a light drizzle and went straight into a downpour. Hux pulled his hood up and tightened his coat around his thin frame but the rain pounded down thickly and he became soaked. He tried continuing in his quest to find Millicent but could barely see two feet in front of him. It quickly became apparent that he needed to abandon his mission and find shelter. By now he was too far from the village to return by nightfall, so he searched instead for an overhanging rock or thick patch of trees, any sort of refuge to wait for the storm to cease.

He trudged through the forest, hunched against the wind and rain. Several times he nearly slipped in the mud and only just caught himself. Now trembling violently, he slowly felt a feeling creep up on him that he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

Fear.

The suddenly very real fear that he might not make it out of this.

Nonetheless, Hux continued forward as he always did, as he had his whole life.

He pushed through some bushes and suddenly his foot came in contact with something hard, rather than slippery mud and leaves. He looked down to find the beginning of a stone path. That was odd. He didn’t think there was another town for miles. Could it be that someone lived out here?

Hux followed the path until he reached a tall gate. The rain was coming down too hard for him to see farther, but there must be something beyond it. He examined up and down along the gate until he found a spot where the bars had warped over time and he was able to squeeze through. He hurried up the path, eager to find where it led. The rain still hammered down, obscuring his view.

Slowly, a massive, dark structure began to come into view. He stopped in his tracks and looked up, blinking against the drops of water. Through the rain and mist, he could just make out tall towers looming above him on either side, connected by a massive stone wall. A castle. As he drew closer, he could see the large door. Had it not been such a terrible storm, had he not been so tired and cold and scared, he may have turned and left, for this was not a welcoming place. But right then anything seemed better than staying out here. There might not even be anyone living there anymore, and if there was, how bad could they be? Hux grasped one of the brass handles and shoved with all his might. The door gave way and he slipped inside.

The heavy patter of rain outside dropped into the background as he stepped cautiously into the entrance hall. It was eerily silent and the only light was the dim grey glow seeping in from outside through the cracked door and from a few tall windows where the curtains had been pulled aside.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

His voice echoed off the high ceilings.

From somewhere further down the hall, in the dark, came a drawn-out creak. Then more silence.

It was more than a little unnerving, but the violent shivers running through his body reminded him what awaited him if he went back outside. He was about to turn to shut the door when it slammed shut behind him on its own, making him jump.

“Is someone there?” He demanded again.

He was answered by more creaks. Whatever it was, it sounded like metal. And it sounded closer this time.

Gathering his courage, he ventured further into the hall. Long patches of pale light broke up the darkness from the few uncovered windows, but it wasn’t quite enough. Hux pulled open a few more curtains. He froze when another creak sounded, this time barely a few feet behind him.

Slowly he turned, wishing he’d brought a weapon of some sort, wondering if this was it, if he’d die here in this musty old castle and no one would ever know.

No one was there.

But in the added light, he could now make out a worn out suit of armor, such a dark gray it was almost black.

Hux stared at the armor, as if it held the answers he needed. He stepped a little closer, then quickly stumbled backwards.

The armor was moving.

First, the head turned slowly to face Hux, making that shrill sound again. Then one arm lifted and stopped, frozen as if midway through waving hello.

A lesser man would have screamed, or run, or both.

Hux only stood frozen, and told himself he was only shaking from being wet and cold, nothing more.

“If this is some sort of trick, it’s not funny!”

“Who’s laughing?” A deep voice rumbled from the shadows.

Hux’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t alone after all.

“Who’s there?” He demanded. The whole mysterious old castle bit was getting tiring. He’d read his share of novels; some eccentric old baron probably lived here, frightening off intruders for kicks. Well Hux would not be frightened off. He needed a place to stay the night and there was nowhere else.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who entered my castle.”

“Have you looked outside? It’s pouring…” Hux considered his position and realized he should probably be more polite when he was at this person’s mercy. He cleared his throat. “I…just need a place to stay until the rain stops. Um…please.”

“…very well.” The voice had an almost amused lilt to it, but Hux barely noticed, he was so surprised.

“Really?  Thank…thank you, very much. As soon as it clears up, I’ll leave, I promise.”

There came a low chuckle that made Hux shudder.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You won’t be leaving.”

“…what?”

“I don’t know how you found this castle, but we did not wish to be found. If you leave, you’ll tell others and they’ll come here.”

“I…no! No, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

Who would I even tell? He thought bitterly. Only Millicent. He wondered where she was, if she was alright.

“I can’t take that chance,” the voice said. “You’ve seen one of my knights.”

“One of your…?” Hux glanced at the suit of armor, which had moved again, now standing at attention, its head turned slightly towards the voice, as if awaiting orders.

Hux scoffed.

“You mean this parlor trick?”

More creaking filled the room, the terrible sound reverberating off the ceilings and walls, surrounding him. Then there was a heavy clanking, like footsteps, and figures began to emerge. Hux backed towards the window.

The noise stopped and Hux could now see five more suits of armor standing in a row beside the first one, their heads all turned to an indiscernible point in the shadows.

“They…they must be controlled by some kind of internal mechanism...a motor? Whatever it is, it’s incredible, I’d like to study them actually, perhaps you could show me…”

“QUIET!” the voice boomed and Hux clenched his jaw.

“You will stay here until I decide what to do with you. That is final.”

“And if I refuse?”

Another chuckle, and then Hux heard a rustling as if something was moving closer. He held his ground and squinted into the darkness.

Two eyes gleamed back at him. A chill ran through Hux again and again he blamed the cold, wet clothes clinging to his skin, but he couldn’t deny the dread starting to form in the pit of his stomach.

“So I’m your prisoner, then?” His traitorous voice shook.

“Don’t think of it like that,” the voice crooned. “You’re my guest. You may go anywhere you like, except the North Tower. The staff here will take care of any needs you might have. Make yourself at home.”

The eyes disappeared and there was a loud click that echoed in the hall and in Hux’s chest: the door locking. He ran to it, pulling desperately at the handle, but it wouldn’t open, and when he tried to undo the bolt, it wouldn’t budge. He looked around frantically for another way out. Running to one window, he grabbed a small sculpture from a pedestal and swung it at the glass. Rather than shatter it, it bounced violently off, throwing Hux backwards onto the floor. He cried out in pain and alarm. Rather than get up right away, he remained lying on the floor, his brain working rapidly.

Prisoner or not, it was pouring outside, and would soon be dark. He was chilled to the bone, exhausted, and starting to become hungry. It was drafty in here but at least it was dry. Perhaps in the morning the man would have a change of heart, or he’d find another way out. But there was no use in trying to escape now only to freeze to death or slip and wind up in a ditch somewhere. He sat up carefully, looking around to see that all the knights but one had left, along with their master.

Hux stood, folding his arms to try to suppress his shivering. The knight lifted its arm again, moving it slowly back and forth in a “this way” motion. Seeing no other choice, Hux followed it down the hall.

*

In a large bedroom in the North Tower, a fire crackled. In a worn chair he was much too big for, Kylo sat staring into the flames, his head propped in one hand, pondering over what to do with his…guest.

The only other being in the room was a suit of armor. This one was silver in color, once bright chrome that had become tarnished over the years. A black cape with red lining fell from its shoulders and down its back.

“Sir,” the captain of the guard said; a woman’s voice, though distorted by the metal helmet, “don’t you think that was a little harsh?”

“Harsh?” Kylo sat up and turned towards her, glaring. “He trespassed. I should have killed him on the spot.”

“He was only looking for shelter.”

“Well he should have looked somewhere else. He isn’t welcome here.”

There was a long silence.

“It’s been over nine years now,” she reminded him.

“So?”

“Perhaps a guest isn’t such a bad thing.”

“What are you saying, Phasma?”

“I’m saying if you’re going to keep him here, maybe you should get to know him.”

“You think he could break the curse?”

“I think we can’t afford to be picky.”

Kylo drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, thinking over her words. Then he sighed and slumped back down.

“I’m sorry, Phasma. You know I am. But the curse will not be broken. There isn’t time, not now. In six months, I will have the power that was promised to me, and I will find a way to free you and the others, I swear it.”

“…yes, sir.”

*

The suit of armor led Hux up a staircase, down another long hallway and to a bedroom. As they walked, he tried to get a glimpse of what was making it move, but he couldn’t figure it out. Maybe in the morning he could open up the chest plate and see what was inside.

The bedroom was nice, old but surprisingly clean, with a king-sized canopy bed with a thick duvet, a tall oak wardrobe, a desk and chair. Against one wall was a fireplace and at the other, a door to a small bathroom. Opposite the bed was a large window that looked out into the courtyard. The knight motioned to the wardrobe and Hux walked over to it, opened it to find clothes. Dry clothes.

Too eagerly, he shed his coat and removed his boots. He began to undo the clasps to his tunic when he realized the armor was still standing in the doorway, at attention. Strange contraption or not, he didn’t like the feeling that he was being watched.

“Uh. Thank you?” The knight remained in the doorway.

“You’re dismissed,” Hux tried. The knight nodded, turned and left, shutting the door behind it. Hux heard it creak around a bit in the hall and then come to a stop. Guarding the door, Hux supposed, so that he couldn’t escape.

Hux changed into a pair of soft pants and long sleeved nightshirt and hung his wet clothes in the bathroom to dry. He found a towel and dried his hair, then collapsed onto the bed. He pulled the duvet up to his chin and curled up tightly, savoring the warmth. He wanted to think some more, to contemplate this strange situation he found himself in, but his eyes were drooping and his limbs felt heavy. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Chapter Text

When Hux woke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the absence of pounding rain. He sat up to see that it was morning. The day was gloomy and overcast, the trees and ground still gleaming with water, but the rain had stopped.

Not that it mattered. Not that he could leave now, even if he wanted to.

The events of last night returned to him in a rush and he pulled his knees up to his chest, suddenly feeling very small in the big room.

What am I going to do?

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

“Who’s there?” he called out. He wondered why whoever it was bothered knocking, this was their home and he was their prisoner.

“Not him,” a woman’s voice responded. He knew what she meant: not the master of the castle, the mysterious deep-voiced man who wouldn’t show his face.

“Come in.” Maybe this person would give him answers.        

Hux’s stomach growled. Maybe they would feed him, as well.

When the door opened Hux saw that it wasn’t a person at all, but another suit of armor, this one lighter and shinier than the others. He frowned.

“Another one? Are there no people here?”

“That depends on your definition of people,” the armor replied, startling Hux. He stared at it in disbelief.

“Either this man is a genius,” he mumbled, “and has built a moving, speaking metal servant of some sort…or I’m losing my mind.”

“Neither, I’m afraid,” the metallic voice sounded almost amused. “It’s quite a long story. You’ll have time to hear it. For now, perhaps some breakfast?”

Hux placed a hand over his stomach. It had been over a day now since he’d last had a bite to eat. Wary as he was to give in to this absurdity, if he wanted to find a way out he needed his strength. He rose from the bed, a little shaky on his feet. The armor held out a hand to help but he just looked at it skeptically.

“It’s bad enough that you talk, now you have the capacity to worry?” He felt ridiculous talking to a suit of armor. Then again, it wasn’t much different than speaking to his cat. At least the armor answered.

“I have the capacity to do a lot of things, sir,” and was that sarcasm Hux detected? He must be losing his mind.

He followed the armor out in to the hall, back down the steps and then down a corridor. In the daylight he could see more of the castle’s interior. Like the bedroom, it was clean and tidy, but still seemed neglected somehow. He thought about the silver armor’s earlier words. That depends on your definition of people. Did no one live here? Was it inhabited only by these strange, animated suits and their creator?

“What do I even call you?”

“I’m Captain Phasma,” she replied, “but just call me Phasma. The others you met are the palace guards, the prince’s knights.”

“The prince?”

“You met him, too.”

Hux thought back to the eerily soft, almost inhuman voice, two eyes in the darkness.

“Your prince has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t he?”

This earned him a tinny chuckle.

“That’s putting it kindly.” She paused. Her voice grew solemn. “He doesn’t like to be seen. When you do see him, you’ll understand.”

Hux couldn’t help the curiosity that spurred in him. He wanted to see this man, whoever he was, if for no other reason than to give him a well-earned right hook.

Phasma led him to the kitchen, where to Hux’s surprise there were plates of food already laid out on the countertop.

“Do you have a cook?” he asked.

“Not exactly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready to know.”

Hux couldn’t help feeling offended.

“Try me.”

Phasma stared at him – if she could stare – then relented and spoke aloud, but not to Hux.

“You heard him.”

Completely on their own, things began to move: the stove lit up, a pan floated from the counter to settle on top of it, a knife began chopping some onions, a kettle poured tea into a waiting cup.

The cup floated over to Hux, who swept his hands above and below it, searching for strings. There were none. He took the cup and gaped down at the dark liquid, stunned speechless.

“How…” he managed.

“This castle is cursed. Or enchanted, if you prefer. As I said, it’s a long story.” A pause, then, “you’ll have to let me know how the food is; I can’t have any myself.”

The scent of the food hit Hux just then and his stomach gave another gurgle. Enchanted or not, food was food. Trying to shake off the shock, he took a plate and ventured into the dining room. Phasma allowed him to eat in peace and process what he had just seen.

Hux should have been thinking of how to escape, but instead, he found himself trying to come up with possible explanations for the moving household objects. He didn’t buy Phasma’s “enchanted” nonsense. There was no such thing as enchanted castles, curses, magic. Not outside of storybooks.

He finished off two plates of food and felt worlds better than the night before. He was still at a loss for what to do next, but with dry clothes and a full stomach, he felt more like himself.

His mood was dampened by a clap of thunder from outside. He moved to the window to find it was pouring again. Even if he could find a way out, he’d be in much the same situation as yesterday. So far, he hadn’t been threatened or harmed here, so he didn’t feel any immediate danger in staying at least until the weather improved.

Hux was a patient man. He could wait.

In the meantime, he decided, he’d learn his way around. Maybe he would find possible exits, or learn the secrets behind the strange things he’d witnessed here.

He spent the morning exploring the halls and rooms of the main floor. These included a kitchen, pantry, and dining room, an opulent great hall, two studies, and more bedrooms.  He opted to save the second level for another day, and the cellar and towers for another. Not once did he run into the enigmatic prince, though at times he could swear he was being watched. Every time, he’d turn to find no one there, not even a knight or the captain. By mid-afternoon he found himself in a sitting room near the back of the castle. Hux opened the curtains partway to look out at the terrace, and just beyond it, a garden. The garden ended with the side of the mountain, and was bordered on either side by tall hedges. Hux mentally noted not to try to leave that way.

Though it was early, he found he was tired. Yesterday’s journey had taken more out of him than he thought, along with the stress of being trapped in a strange place. He started a fire in the fireplace and settled onto the sofa to rest.

*

An hour later he was startled awake by the feeling that someone was looming over him. He bolted upright, panting heavily. No one was there, but the feeling of a presence remained.

“Phasma? Is that you?”

A familiar deep chuckle immediately told him he was wrong. It came from a corner of the room that the light from the window didn’t quite reach. Hux frowned.

“Hiding in the shadows again, I see.”

“You should be thanking me for that.”

“Coward.”

A sound almost like a snarl answered him, followed by the sudden phantom sensation of cold fingers around his neck. The man hadn’t moved, but now Hux could see the gleam of those eyes again. The pressure on his throat was light, not squeezing, but letting him know it could. Hux had no idea how he was doing that; another trick, he supposed. It was incredibly unsettling.

Still, Hux held his head high and met the other’s eyes.

“I simply wish to see who my gracious host is.”

The invisible hand withdrew from his neck and Hux exhaled slowly in relief. He kept his eyes fixed on the corner, waiting.

“You’ll be afraid,” the prince said. If Hux didn’t know any better he’d say he sounded nervous.

“You weren’t worried about that when you were playing haunted castle last night.”

A frustrated huff came from the corner. Hux tried not to grin.

“Fine.”

Hux stood to watch as the figure emerged from the shadows. A startled gasp fell from his lips before he could prevent it.

This had to be a trick.

The…man, Hux supposed, though he wasn’t so sure anymore, must have been nearly a head taller than him, but his posture was slouched as if to seem smaller. He had long limbs and a broad chest and shoulders, wrapped in black robes that may once have been regal and lovely but were now faded and tattered at the edges. His skin was a pale, sickly grey and dotted with dark, randomly placed freckles. Thick, messy black hair cascaded onto his shoulders. His face was long and angled, a large aquiline nose in the center and full lips which were pulled into a scowl revealing pointed canines. There were no whites to the eyes that peered at Hux, only inky blackness that reflected the flickering firelight.

This was no man. This was some sort of monster.

That can’t be, the rational part of Hux’s brain, still valiantly holding its ground, reminded him, there’s no such thing.

Hux stepped closer.

“Is this some sort of hideous disguise you use to scare people off?”

The creature glared, a low growl coming from deep in his throat.

“I think you’ll find it’s all very real.”

He stepped closer as well until he and Hux were face to face in the center of the room. Hux looked him over, examining his features. It all seemed very real. He just didn’t understand how. And he wasn’t about to reach out and touch to find out.

With a noncommittal shrug, Hux stepped back.

“I expected worse, honestly, from all the fuss you made about it.”

The prince’s scowl deepened, teeth bared, fists clenched at his sides.

“Worse? I can show you worse…”

“Oh please do.”

“I will!”

A sharp cough interrupted their building argument. Both turned sharply to see who had entered.

Phasma stood in the doorway, flanked on either side by a knight.

“Sorry to interrupt what I’m sure was a riveting conversation, sirs,” she said, “but it’s dinnertime.”

 “I’m not hungry,” the monster muttered, turning to storm from the room, dark cloak billowing dramatically behind him. Hux rolled his eyes. Great. He was the prisoner of an unsightly, oversized child.

 “Well, I am,” he told Phasma when the prince had gone, and followed her once more to the kitchen.

*

Over the next week, Hux continued his exploration of the castle. The second floor consisted mostly of bedrooms. Closer inspection led him to believe that they must have belonged to the household staff, though they were much nicer than he would have expected for that purpose. Then again, he’d never been in a castle before. The prince’s bedroom, and that of any other royals that may have lived here, must then be located in the towers, of which there were two. Hux remembered the vague instruction that he could go anywhere but the North Tower. That must be where the prince stayed, not wanting to be bothered. That was fine. Hux didn’t wish to bother him anyway.

In the middle of the second floor there was also a large library. Hux was thrilled to discover it; he quickly gathered up a pile of books to bring to his bedroom. He still did not know how or when he would leave this place, and without any of his projects to work on, he feared boredom, tedium. To die here would be terrible, but to live here in idleness for countless months, his mind unchallenged and hands out of practice, would be a fate worse than death.

When he felt he knew his way around enough not to get lost, he again endeavored leaving. Though he knew it was unlikely, he tried simply unlocking the front door, to no avail. In fact, he tried every door on the first floor, and they all refused to be unlocked.

The prince watched all of this with growing amusement. Hux knew he was there but opted to ignore him, though it was difficult with the occasional dark chuckle or derisive commentary. The strange-looking man still tended to keep to the shadows, but would also pace along the wall or stand at the balcony at the top of the stairs, and against Hux’s better judgement, he accepted that this must truly be what he looked like and not some costume.

He’d been forced to accept a lot of things in his short stay here.

He had yet to get a closer look at Phasma or the knights but he had accepted that regardless of whatever made them tick, they definitely had some sort of sentience, and could understand what he said. Phasma was a wonder to him; she was not only sentient, but had a voice and a personality. He spoke to her frequently, finding it better than the empty silence of the huge castle or the irritating presence of its master.

Further examination of the kitchen and other rooms confirmed that there was no mechanism controlling the objects that worked silently on their own. They seemed to have a routine, going about the same tasks in the same ways every day, but could also be ordered to do specific tasks. If Hux finished his meal and said he was done, the plate and silverware would drift off to the sink to be cleaned, or if he spilled something a mop and bucket could be summoned to clean it up.

One afternoon Hux tried to test how far the enchantment went by calmly tipping a vase off a pedestal and watching it fall to the floor, vindictively hoping it was some sort of family heirloom. Before it hit the ground, it was caught in midair by some invisible force, and lifted back into place. From where he half-hid leaning against a pillar, the prince spoke, his arm extended in the direction of the vase.

“Be careful what you break, you fool. Nothing here is as it seems.”

Hux bristled at the insult.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

But the prince had already gone before the words were out of his mouth. Hux made a note to ask Phasma about it later. He didn’t break anything else. Just in case.

*

“What do I even call you?” Hux asked one day while seeing if any of the windows would open. They would not. “And if it’s your majesty or master or something like that, you can forget it.”

The prince was leaning against a windowsill opposite him radiating that infuriating smugness he always did when Hux tried in vain to find a way out.

“Master? I like the sound of that.”

“Forget I asked.”

“Kylo Ren.”

“What?”

“That’s my name. Kylo Ren.”

“That’s not a real name.”

“It is, and it’s mine. You’re welcome to call me master if…”

“Fine, Ren,” Hux sneered. “And I suppose you’re wondering what mine is?”

“Not really.”

That made Hux’s blood boil.

“It’s Hux,” he snapped, “My name is Hux, I’m from the city of Arkanis, my father fought in the war, and I…”

He stopped. Suddenly he felt overwhelmed, humiliated, and tired all at once. This man had imprisoned him for nearly three weeks now; he’d frightened him and mocked him and couldn’t even be bothered to learn his name.

And even that, his name, wasn’t his own. It was his father’s, and his father was a disgrace who never cared about him. Hux felt like nothing. He felt like less than nothing.

Rallying what remained of his pride, he gave up at the window and walked briskly upstairs to his room.

*

“Sir.”

“What?”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little…”

“A little what?”

“Childish?”

Kylo shot her a dark look.

“I didn’t ask him to show up here.”

“Yes but you did decide to keep him here. It wouldn’t kill you to be civil.”

 “What good would that do? It won’t change what I am. It’s too late for me.”

Phasma was silent so long Kylo began to think she’d dropped the matter entirely, when she spoke again, quietly, sounding somehow sad in spite of her distorted voice.

“If you truly believe that, nothing I say will change your mind now. But you don’t have to spend your last few months being miserable, or making him miserable. I don’t want to see either. Don’t be so hard on him…or yourself.”

With her usual clanking march, she left him alone in the room. Kylo silently cursed her insight.

*

Kylo stood at Hux’s door, fidgeting. At the sound of a creak to his left, he looked over to see one of the knights starting at him.

“What are you looking at?” he growled. The knight’s mask quickly turned away.

Kylo cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He lifted one large hand and rapped on the door.

Silence.

He scowled and knocked again.

“What do you want?” came the muffled reply.

“Come out of there.”

Sheets rustling; the creak of a mattress; feet stomping. It didn’t open but when Hux spoke again it was closer and clearer.

“What?”

“I said come out. I need to talk to you”

“You can talk to me here.”

“You’re being…childish.”

“I’m being…”

What followed was mostly just cursing. Kylo tuned Hux out. This wasn’t working. He wanted to give up and walk away, but one thought to the earful he was going to get from Phasma if he didn’t at least try was motivation enough to stay. He took a deep breath.

“Please?”

That stopped Hux’s tirade in its tracks.

“Say that again.”

“I said please. It’s not a foreign word to me, you know. Please come out.”

A quiet click of the bolt and then the door cracked open, barely. A pair of icy blue eyes glared up at him.

“Yes?”

Kylo wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“…so, your name is Hux?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of name is that?”

The door slammed in his face.

“What?!” Kylo didn’t understand. He was trying to be conversational. Admittedly, it wasn’t one of his strong points. He was a loner even before the curse, and since then it had been nearly ten years since he’d had a conversation with someone other than Phasma or one-sided arguments with his staff-turned-objects. He was more than a little rusty. But if Hux wasn’t going to try then neither was he.

“Fine,” he snapped, “You can rot in there for all I care.”

“Wasn’t that the plan?” Hux’s muffled voice was thick with emotion. “Keep me here until I die? Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

“Tempting,” Kylo growled before storming away.

Chapter Text

The weeks dragged on. Hux watched the forest turn from lush green to rusty reds and oranges to dull brown. Frost licked at the window panes and the first snow flurries drifted from gray skies. As the color seeped from the world, so the determination seeped out of Hux. Every day that passed and he was no closer to leaving felt like a stone added to a bag he carried on his shoulders; enough weight and he would surely collapse. He ate and read, keeping his body healthy and his mind sharp more out of habit and boredom than anything else. He avoided Kylo Ren as much as he could and their few and far between interactions were full of barely restrained hostility.

He spoke to Phasma often and came to trust her, odd as he still found her very existence. She mainly spoke of combat tactics and war history, which he found mildly interesting. In return he began telling her about the things he’d built and how they worked. Thus, their conversations were equal parts exchanging stories and interesting information and Hux venting about his most recent encounter with Ren.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him,” Phasma responded one day.

Hux only rolled his eyes in response.

He was in the great hall with her and the knights. It was the biggest room in the castle and had the closest thing to ventilation without any windows being open. The huge stained glass windows let in more than enough light for the task at hand.

The knights were lined up in a row and spaced out enough for Hux to walk between them. The creaking of their armor had been driving him absolutely mad and that morning he’d finally snapped. He convinced Phasma to convince Ren, who he refused to speak to after a heated exchange that morning, to find him some canisters of oil and a few basic tools. One by one, he oiled their joints and anywhere else that seemed to need it, then examined each one for broken parts and repaired them the best he could with limited resources. This also gave him an opportunity to – cautiously – open up their chest plates and peek inside. To his disappointment, they were hollow. Phasma asked him what he expected to find inside a suit of armor and he admitted to holding out hope that there was some logical explanation, some mechanism controlling them. Nothing made sense anymore. He just wanted something to make sense.

This reminded him of something Ren had said a weeks ago, though it felt like much longer, the day he tried to break the vase.

“Phasma, I wanted to ask you about something.”

“I’ll do my best to answer.”

“He said something strange to me a while back. About this castle.”

“He?”

“He! Ren. Don’t pretend you don’t know who I mean. That…creature you call a prince.”

“Ah. Him.”

“Yes him. Anyway, he said nothing here is as it seems. I gathered as much the moment a suit of armor started talking to me. But he also said to be careful what I break. What did he mean?”

“You’re very curious, aren’t you?”

“What happened to doing your best to answer?”

Phasma sighed.

“This castle, the prince, myself, the knights, and all the other inhabitants were cursed over nine years ago by a dark sorcerer.”

“Other inhabitants? Where did they go?”

“They’re still here.”

“Do you mean…their bodies?”

“No. I mean, that,” Phasma pointed to a quill pen that was hurriedly taking notes of their conversation in an open book on the table, “is the queen’s scribe. The spinning wheel in the bedroom next to yours is the seamstress. The knights are guards and I am their captain. Do you understand?”

“So the curse…all these people were turned into objects?”

“That’s correct. The problem is, I’m the only one who can communicate, some can’t even move, and not everyone was accounted for. Someone could be a button on a pair of trousers for all we know. That’s why this place is kept so pristine. It’s not as though we have anyone to impress. If we’re ever able to break the curse, we want everyone back in one piece.”

Hux was silent, processing the new information. Accepting the enchantment had been difficult enough, but accepting that the cup he drank his tea from that morning might once have been a living person was an entirely different matter.

“That’s awful,” he finally said. Then his mind backtracked. “You said a dark sorcerer? I thought those only existed in legends or horror stories.”

“There aren’t many, but they exist. And they can be incredibly powerful.”

“But why did he curse you?”

“Do you want to hear the whole story? I told you, it’s long.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve got, it’s time,” Hux said with a sigh. “Go ahead.”

And so she did. Phasma told him everything she knew, from how Ren’s parents met, to what the castle had once been like under their rule, to Ren’s wish for power and subsequent curse, about the queen’s desperate attempt to curb its effects and about the crystal. He considered asking where this crystal was, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew.

Hux listened intently. By the end of her tale, he’d come to two conclusions. One was that he had much, much more learning about the world to do than he once thought. The other was that Kylo Ren was truly awful. He told Phasma as much.

“And as I said, he’s really not so bad,” she said defensively. 

“You’re only saying that because he’s your master.”

“Believe what you want.”

Hux finished his examination and cleaning of the knights. He glanced at Phasma, his eyes moving inquiringly from her helmet down to the latch on the chest plate of her armor.

“Don’t even think about it, sir.”

*

In the days that followed his conversation with Phasma, Hux found the curiosity that had begun to wane after weeks of tedium return. When he thought the North Tower only contained Ren’s quarters he had no interest in exploring it. In fact, he avoided it at all costs, to keep from running into the irksome man. But now Hux couldn’t stop wondering about the crystal Phasma spoke of, supposedly containing Ren’s light, whatever that meant. He’d been all over this godforsaken building and hadn’t seen anything that fit its description. Plus, something like that Ren would certainly want to keep close by for safekeeping. It had to be in or near his rooms. Hux wondered what other dark secrets he might find up there. Perhaps he’d even find some bargaining chip for his freedom.

The hard part was figuring out when to go looking without Ren finding out. He spent most of his time up in that tower doing who knows what, perhaps practicing his strange, dark powers. Hux never saw him eat, though he was glad of that; who knew what a thing like him ate. The only time Ren left the castle was to collect firewood from a shed out in the gardens. That would have to suffice.

One dreary day, snow began to fall in earnest and soon a layer formed on the hard ground. Hux waited in the sitting room, reading, but also listening for the creak that was the back door opening for Ren to go outside.

There was the creak, and then…

Click.

The door shut and locked. Hux set his book aside and hurried out into the corridor and to the North Tower. He wasted no time ascending the stairs, taking them two at a time, until he was standing at the end of a short hallway.

There were three doors: one on either side and one at the far end. Hux tried the one on his right first; to his surprise, it was unlocked. He peeked in to discover what must be where Ren practiced his dark magic. Books were stacked on a desk at one end, a mat and a straw dummy in the center, a shelf at the other end with jars and boxes, and hanging on the wall, a sword. Hux had never seen one quite like it: the cross guard was unusually long and either end of it was pointed and sheathed, as if there were smaller blades.

Hux wanted to take the strange weapon down and give it a closer examination, but there wasn’t time for that, he still had two more rooms. He shut the door quietly and moved on to the next.

The room opposite the training room must have been Ren’s bedroom. It was the only room in the castle that wasn’t in perfect order. In fact, it was a disaster. The blankets were tangled and falling off the bed. The curtains were torn, belongings were scattered across the floor, and the furniture looked as though it had been broken then put back together multiple times. Most alarming, though, were the long, shallow scratches all along the walls as though they’d been struck over and over again by something sharp.

Hux glanced around for anything that might be of interest or important, or the right size and shape to contain a small object. Nothing stood out. Hux wanted to look around more, but he told himself it could wait, he could come up another time. He left the bedroom and headed to the room at the end of the hall.

This room was wide and high-ceilinged and the wall opposite the door curved with the shape of the tower. A large window led out to a balcony that overlooked the side of the castle and the woods. The room was sparsely decorated: dark red curtains, a rug that took up most of the stone floor, a fireplace that looked like it hadn’t been used in ages, and above the mantel a large frame. Whatever was in it had been torn out, a few edges of canvas still poking from the edges but not nearly enough to discern what the image had been. But Hux couldn’t have cared less because there, on the mantel, on a black cushion covered with a glass case, sat a red stone.

Hux walked to the fireplace and stared at the gem cautiously. For all the fuss, Hux had expected it to be bigger, or set in some sort of crown or necklace, but it was only about the size of a walnut. The only notable quality was that it seemed to have a faint glow to it.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been up there, but surely another minute couldn’t hurt. Very slowly he lifted the glass case and set it beside the cushion. When nothing unpleasant happened, he reached out his hand until it was hovering just above the surface. Warmth radiated from the crystal.

“Don’t. Touch that.”

A chill went up Hux’s spine at the deep voice from the doorway, the words half spoken and half snarled.

“Why not?” Hux barely willed his voice not to shake.

“I thought I told you not to come up here.” The voice was closer. Hux moved his hand away from the crystal and turned slowly.

Ren was prowling across the room towards him, shoulders hunched, fists clenched at his sides. His narrowed gaze kept darting from Hux’s face to the crystal. Hux stepped to the side, edging towards the door.

“I don’t see what the big deal is…”

“I spared your life.  You’ve been fed, clothed, kept warm. I’ve allowed you to live very comfortably here.” Ren’s voice grew louder with every word.

Hux opened his mouth to remind him that he didn’t even want to be here in the first place, but Ren’s tirade continued.

“All I asked was that you stayed out of this one part of the castle. Was that too much to ask?”

Hux swallowed and raised his chin defiantly.

“Apparently so.”

In an instant, Ren was upon him. Standing at his full height, he loomed over Hux, cornering him against the wall, his clawed hands on either side of Hux’s head. He was breathing heavily and his teeth were bared, his eyes pitch black as they seemed to glare into Hux’s very soul. Hux managed not to let his growing fear show on his face, but he could not stop his hands from shaking.

“I should have known you’d be trouble,” Ren rumbled, “knew I should have killed you…”

“You keep saying that!” Hux snapped before he could control himself. “But you won’t just do it, because you’re a damn coward! You–”

Hux’s words were cut short by a light but steady pressure on his neck. Ren’s hands remained on the wall. The pressure didn’t squeeze or hurt, yet, but it was enough to make him gasp. Then the pressure increased, just a little, and he tried to struggle against it but found himself pinned not by Ren’s body but by some invisible force. His eyes widened as he began to come to terms with the notion that Ren very well might kill him this time. Ren smirked.

“Pathetic,” Ren taunted. “Even if I did kill you, would anyone notice? Would anyone care? No one’s come for you, have they? Even if you did escape, what’s out there for you? You don’t seem like a stupid man…there must be something you want. It must eat you up inside to know you’ll never have it.”

The room went silent.

Then the silence was broken by a short, hitched breath from Hux. Then another. And another. Hot tears began to slip down his cheeks, which were burning red with shame. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to glare at Ren but the effect was dampened by the utter misery on his face.

Ren must have expected him to fight back, because his smirk faltered and he blinked at Hux.

“You can talk, I’m not squeezing that hard.”

The pressure loosened a little; Hux only turned his head away.

“…fine. Get out.”

Ren released his hold and stepped back.

Hux took several deep breaths, his gaze lowered to the ground at Ren’s feet.

“It’s not,” he rasped, “it’s not your hideous face or – or your strange powers that make you an absolute monster. It’s this. It’s just…you.”

Hux fled, leaving Ren staring at the wall.

Ren carefully replaced the glass over the crystal and gazed down at its glow, which grew dimmer every day.

“I know,” he whispered to the empty room.

Chapter Text

Hux remained in his room for a week. Phasma tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t answer; she tried to open the door but he had it locked and bolted. The knights brought him food which he only accepted to make them stop knocking, but barely ate any. Reading didn’t hold his interest long, so he’d spend long hours staring at the canopy of his bed and imagining all the things he’d never do.

Ren didn’t come by. Good, Hux thought. He didn’t know if he could stand to hear his wretched voice or see those terrible eyes.

Anger dulled to bitterness which drew dangerously close to apathy. Yet still Hux’s spirit, or perhaps his stubbornness, burned on like a hot coal deep within him. It fueled him through this the way it had fueled him through a lonely childhood, an arduous education and years of barely getting by.

On the eighth day, the fire raged.

When a knight brought his lunch, he accepted it and ate the whole thing. He glanced over the room for any belongings of his, but there was nothing. That was okay; he didn’t want to be weighed down anyway. He dressed warmly and found a thick wool coat in the wardrobe. Figuring the owner would probably never need it again, he only felt a little guilty taking it.

He waited until mid-afternoon when he was fairly certain Ren would be up in his tower. He slipped out into the corridor and downstairs, keeping an eye out for Phasma or any of the guards. None were around, the castle even more eerily silent than usual without their movements echoing through the halls.

Hux already knew every window and door that wouldn’t work. But there was one he hadn’t tried. The sitting room on the main floor was as blessedly empty as the rest of the halls. He slipped in undetected and went straight for the large back window. A glass door in the center of it opened out into the gardens. He’d told himself there was no point trying this way, that getting through the thick hedges and around the side of castle would be too difficult and he’d be caught before he reached the front. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Hux was desperate.

With a deep breath he grasped the handle. He steeled himself for the disappointment that would follow if it was locked. His hand shook. If it was locked he was out of ideas, out of hope. He didn’t want to crush that last bit of it. He had to leave. He couldn’t move. He needed to move.

The distant sound of metal footsteps on the stone floors out in the hall was all the motivation he needed. With a sharp inhale he pressed down on the handle and pushed.

The door stuttered from disuse, but cracked open. Hux released the breath and blinked rapidly as a gust of cold, fresh air hit his face.

A thick layer of snow greeted him as he slipped outside. His feet sunk in well above his ankles, but it was not nearly enough to discourage him, not when he finally had this first taste of freedom. He quietly shut the door and trudged through, turning up the collar of the coat as he went to shield his ears against the bitter cold.

He almost, almost longed for the thick duvet in his cozy room. But – no. It wasn’t his room. It was Ren’s, all of it, and he needed to leave because he was decidedly not Ren’s.

Without leaves to thicken them the hedges seemed much more manageable than they had a couple months ago. Hux found the branches were brittle and so he began pushing through, ignoring the way they scratched at his face and clothes and caught in his hair in favor of the bright lure of escape. Within minutes he was through to the other side and could see around the side of the building. There was a thin strip of ground circling the castle walls, a couple feet wide, dropping steeply off into what had once been a moat, now dried up and full of dead plants and fallen snow. Hoping the path led all the way to the front, he pressed close to the wall and made his way alongside the building. He stumbled a few times, but caught himself, resolving not to end up in the ditch. Both dying down there and being found there by Ren were equally awful prospects.

To Hux’s relief, the stretch of land led all the way to the flat front grounds of the castle, covered in more fresh, unblemished snow. The bridge and beyond it the front gate called to him like a siren’s song. With a cautious glance behind him, then around the front of the building and up to the windows, he continued forward until he reached that same gap in the dark metal of the gate that he’d slipped through all those weeks ago. He took a moment to cringe with regret at ever coming here, at all the time lost, but shook away the thought. It was over now. He was leaving.

Stepping out into the woods felt unreal. He kept expecting to hear a familiar snarl or feel a clawed hand on his shoulder, but no such horror came. With one last scornful glance at the castle that had been his prison, he set forth.

*

“Sir.”

Kylo huffed irritably as he returned from his training room to find Phasma in his bedroom, a fire started as he had requested. He had not asked her to stay and keep him company.

“What?” He threw himself into his chair, letting his long arms flop over the sides as he closed his eyes.

“It’s been over a week now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Kylo didn’t respond, so Phasma continued, her frustration evident in her voice.

“He’s been in there over a week. He barely eats, doesn’t talk. You said you wouldn’t kill him. But this is killing him, slowly. You have to do something.”

At that, Kylo opened one eye in her direction, then closed it again and sighed.

“What would you have me do? Force feed him like a child?”

“An apology couldn’t hurt.”

Kylo sat up abruptly, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as he stared Phasma down.

“He’s the one who was poking around where he had no right to be.”

“Can you blame him? If you two stopped bickering for a moment and just talked you’d know he’s incredibly clever and very curious. He was bound to end up there sometime. There was no need to frighten him, or hurt him.”

Kylo’s fierce glare jolted into alarm.

“Hurt him? I didn’t hurt him.”

“Didn’t you?” Phasma inquired softly.

Slowly, Kylo sat back, his eyes still on her but his mind distracted by the memory of Hux’s face, flushed with rage and damp with tears. He swallowed loudly.

“He…he doesn’t want to talk to me. What could I possibly say after…that?”

“As I said. An apology couldn’t hurt.”

Loud footsteps followed by a sharp knock grabbed their attention. A knight stood in the entrance, one fist on the door and the other hand pointing toward the stairs.

It stared expectantly at Kylo and Phasma and they stared back.

“Well?” Kylo finally growled.

The knight only pointed more intensely to the stairs. Grumbling, Kylo got up and stomped out into the hall and down the steps, followed at a much slower pace by Phasma and the knight.

When he reached the main floor he began searching for whatever the problem was.

“Sir.”

He spun around and saw Phasma standing by the knight, who was standing by the entrance to the sitting room, pointing inside. He hurried in and, finding nothing amiss, turned to scowl at the armor.

“Why are we down here?”

Unfazed, the knight’s outstretched arm shifted so that he was pointing at the window. Kylo walked over to it and looked outside.

Deep footprints in the snow trailed through the garden and over to the bushes, where broken branches lay scattered about.

Dread crept into Kylo so gradually he didn’t become aware of it until it filled him.

“That idiot,” he hissed, “he’ll freeze out there!”

“Well, that certainly solves the problem of having to apologize to him, doesn’t it?”

He hadn’t even heard Phasma enter the room.

“What are you saying?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around her words, too startled by the discovery to grasp the sarcasm. He began pacing. “He doesn’t even know his way back to the village! The sun will go down in a few hours and it will be colder than anyone could possibly survive.”

“And?” Phasma prompted.

“And?!” He stopped in his tracks and gaped at her. “Do you think I want him dead?”

Phasma barely held back an exasperated sigh. Some days he was truly still like a child.

“Sir, the point I have been trying to make to you is that no, you do not want him dead. Or gone.”

You want him here.

She didn’t say the words, but Kylo somehow knew them. Phasma was right just as Hux had been right. He’d had plenty of chances to kill him, or could have set him free at any point, but he had done neither. Not out of mercy or cruelty respectively, but because the presence of another person, even one he argued with constantly, had been too alluring in his loneliness. The sounds of Hux wandering the halls or pulling books off the library shelves or cleaning the knights’ armor, being able to observe these activities from the shadows, hadn’t quite filled his emptiness, but it had draped a veil over it, so it didn’t ache so strongly.

With him gone, dead because of Kylo’s negligence, and only a few months away from a life of servitude to the monster who had taken everything from him, Kylo thought he might go mad.

“I’m going to find him,” he whispered.

Not two minutes later, bundled in his warmest clothes and his cloak, he swept out the front door of the castle and disappeared into the forest.

Chapter Text

It felt like Hux had been walking for hours, though it could barely have been one. Cold filled his veins and sunk into his bones and gripped at his heart. His fingers, toes, nose, and ears were numb and the numbness was beginning to spread up his limbs. It was going from uncomfortable to dangerous. Still, he lumbered on, unsure if he was even going in the right direction.

Even his mind felt numb, but he had enough clarity to know that if he didn’t find shelter soon, he’d die.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, he heard a low growl from the trees to his left.

His first thought was that it was Ren. He'd never heard Ren growl before but it didn't seem outside the realm of possibility. Being caught escaping should have terrified him but he was too cold to care anymore.

Another growl. Hux managed to turn to glare halfheartedly at the source of the sound.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

A hairy, hulking form with gleaming eyes lurked a few yards away, standing on all fours. It was clear from a glance that it wasn't Ren.

Fear shot up Hux's spine as the thing began to move towards him. He tried to take a few steps away but his legs had other plans; he stumbled and fell face first into the snow. Shaking, he clamored up to his knees and turned onto his back to watch the creature - a large bear, he could now tell - continue to prowl closer. Its lips were pulled back around a snarl revealing sharp teeth dripping drool. It was hungry, Hux realized with another jolt of terror.

Freezing to death had seemed like the worst that could happen a moment ago. Now he'd gladly take that over being eaten alive.

His survival instincts kicked in even as his limbs felt like deadweight and he backed away until he hit a tree. He thought woefully of Millicent, hoping she hadn't met a similar fate.

His chin trembled. He wanted to cry, his pride be damned, but it felt as though even his tear ducts were frozen. This was it. As the bear began to lunge, he squeezed his eyes shut, praying it would be painless...

The bear's snarl was cut off by a loud thump followed by a more agitated snarl, now farther away. When no pain followed, he dared to peek one eye open.

A tall figure clad in black clothes and a thick, hooded black cloak stood between Hux and the bear, which was struggling to stand back up from the snow, teeth bared.

The figure turned to Hux. Dark hair, dark eyes on a strange face.

Ren.

An inexplicable relief surged in Hux's chest. He managed to rise to his feet.

"Stay there while I handle this," Ren snapped.

"I-I was handling it j-just fine," Hux bit back through chattering teeth.

"You were h– it was practically on top of you, you fool! Unless you're hiding a knife in that coat of yours, I -"

Ren's words erupted into a scream that echoed through the forest, his mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut in sudden, unexpected agony as the bear’s claws dug into his side. There was a burst of red and Ren stumbled forward, gasping, the claws dragging through fabric and flesh as he fell.

He quickly, shakily propped himself up on his forearms and shot a fierce glare at Hux.

“Run,” he hissed, before rolling over onto his back.

Just as the bear lunged again.

Ren fell back beneath it and his hand shot forward. For one terrible moment Hux thought the bear was going to bite it off, but then…then a pulse of that familiar invisible force from Ren’s palm threw the creature backwards. It landed with a solid thump in the snow.

Anxious silence followed as they watched the animal rise to its feet. Hux looked around for a rock, a branch, anything to defend himself, just in case. Ren’s hand was still extended in front of him. The bear took one look at him, whimpered as it backed away, then limped off in defeat.

Hux released a breath as relief washed over him. It was short lived, however, as he realized that now he had Ren to deal with. He stood as tall as he could on his shaking legs and waited.

Ren’s arm dropped heavily to the ground. He didn’t get back up.

Hux took a few steps towards him, frowning. Surely he wasn’t dead? He dared to step a little closer until he could see the subtle rise and fall of Ren’s chest. Not dead, then.

Hux stood over the large figure and looked down at him, a mess of torn black cloth and messy black hair and crimson blood rapidly staining the pure white snow. Ren did not look at him, his resigned gaze fixed on the sky.

Hux’s brain screamed for him to move, to get away, out of the cold and to let this monster die here. Slowly he felt his legs obey, turning him from the scene and taking a few steps from the clearing.

From behind him, he heard a small, pained noise.

The sound tugged at something in Hux, caused an uncomfortable throbbing deep in his chest. He froze in his tracks.

He looked over his shoulder to see that Ren’s eyes were now squeezed shut. Sharp, violent tremors ran through his body, with wet, hitched breaths almost like…

Almost like sobs.

Hux ignored the persistent nagging of his logical mind for a moment and stepped closer again. Sure enough, a gleaming dampness coated Ren’s pale cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

It was just snow. If Hux could just convince himself of that, he could walk away. Go home.

Oddly enough, it was the memory of home, if he could even call it that, which gave him pause. Or, more accurately, the memory of his father. His cruel voice telling his tearful son to walk away from the wounded wolf pup he’d come across, that there was no point in helping it, to let nature take its course, that it could only grow up to be dangerous. The creature had whimpered pitifully and Hux, barely ten years old, had felt a tug in his chest then, just as he did now.

Except this isn’t a baby animal, his mind reminded him, it’s a monster, it kept you against your will.

He saved your life, whispered another part of Hux, he could have let you die. Why didn’t he let you die?

Before he knew it, he stood by Ren again, crouched down beside him and leaned over to look at his face. Ren’s eyes cracked open a sliver and peered up at him, cloudy and unfocused, then slid shut again.

Even with adrenaline still surging through his veins it took a great deal of effort to pull Ren into a sitting position. Getting him on his feet seemed impossible but Hux angled him just so and managed to stand, Ren’s arm draped over his shoulders and his considerable weight propped up against him. Walking would be another matter. The snow was several inches deep, hard to walk in on his own, let alone dragging another. He took a single step and was nearly thrown off balance. This wasn’t going to work.

“Ren,” he gritted out, “help me, you oaf.” He shook him a little. Ren only groaned in response. “Ren. Kylo.”

Ren stirred. His eyes blinked open, his expression still pained but also confused at suddenly finding himself upright.

“You have to walk,” Hux commanded. “You’re too heavy for me to carry and if I drag you we’ll never be back before nightfall. Come on.”

Hux took another step and after a moment of dazed hesitation, felt a little of the weight he was supporting ease up. He still had to lean heavily into Hux, but it was enough that once Ren started taking wobbly steps of his own, they were able to move forward.

It was then that Hux remembered the blood still steadily seeping from Ren’s side. He’d never make it back at this rate. Steadying Ren the best he could with one arm, he reached the other up to pull off his cowl. He managed to tie it around Ren’s waist. Whether it would be enough only time would tell, but he resolved to keep moving.

It still took nearly an hour to get back to the castle. Once they did, Hux took a moment to catch his breath, Ren’s own labored breathing loud next to his ear. Then, to Hux’s surprise, Ren raised one shaking hand to the door, palm forward. With a click and a groan, it opened enough for Hux to lug him inside.

“Phasma!” he shouted once the door had slammed shut behind him. Ren’s weight was growing heavier against him and as quickly as he could, Hux maneuvered him into the sitting room before he collapsed.

Hux deposited his massive form onto the sofa with a grunt, careful to lay him on his uninjured side. Ren’s eyes fluttered shut. His face was damp with sweat, snow, tears, his hair plastered to his neck and forehead, his dark robes soaked and bloodstained. To Hux’s relief, a fire was already roaring in the fireplace. Phasma must have anticipated at least Ren’s return, if not Hux’s.

For a moment, he imagined Ren coming back without finding him. Then he imagined his own body still out in the snow, mangled and bloody and frozen solid, eyes wide and unseeing. He shuddered and shook his head to rid himself of the image.

There were clanking footsteps in the doorway followed by a sharp gasp.

“What happened?” Phasma asked, taking in Ren’s appearance and then Hux’s. It was only then that Hux thought about the sight he must be: shivering, hair a mess, coat torn and bloody, still panting from exertion.

“We were attacked by an animal,” he said simply. The whole story could wait. “He’s injured. I need water, towels, and bandages, and something for the pain, if you have it. In fact, bring any medical supplies you can find.”

Phasma stomped away and Hux turned his attention back to Ren. He began by removing the layers of clothing, a difficult task with Ren half-conscious and flinching with every movement, but he managed. He stripped him down to just his trousers, even removing his boots as an afterthought. It wasn’t necessary, but perhaps Ren would be more comfortable.

Hux briefly wondered why he cared whether or not Ren was comfortable. But there was no time to think about that.

Hux tossed the ruined robes into a heap on the floor. There was blood everywhere; Hux grabbed Ren’s crumpled shirt from the pile and tried in vain to wipe some of it away. The action made him writhe, a high whine slipping through his clenched teeth.

“Sorry,” Hux mumbled, then pressed the shirt firmly to the wound. Ren groaned in protest but Hux maintained a steady pressure, staunching the flow of blood. “It’s for your own good. Calm down.”

But Ren didn’t calm down. His breaths became erratic, his groans grew louder and his clawed hands grasped the edge of the couch, puncturing holes in it. He tried to squirm away from Hux but there was nowhere to go.

“I said calm down!” Hux tried to sound authoritative, though he certainly didn’t feel it. This was out of his depth on so many levels. He held the bunched up cloth against the wound with one hand and placed the other on Ren’s heaving chest. He felt his rapidly thudding heart and it occurred to him for the first time that Ren had a heart. Hux began to rub slow, gentle circles over the smooth skin there and whispered “calm down, calm down” to him over and over again. Gradually, Ren’s frantic movements ceased. Hux continued the soothing motion until Phasma returned with two knights in tow, carrying the things Hux had requested. He thanked her and took the bowl of water and the towels. When he turned back to Ren, he found two dark eyes looking up at him.

“I’m going to clean your wound, and bandage it,” Hux told him evenly. “Will you let me do that?”

Ren nodded weakly.

“Good.”

Hux gently cleaned the bloodied area as best he could until he could better see what he was working with. Three long, deep gashes marred the gray skin, so pale now it was almost white. Hux paled too when he realized that they would need to be stitched shut, and that he was the only one who could do so.

He swallowed and steeled himself. Hux fixed things. He would fix this.

Working quickly, he dug through the medical supplies until he found a needle and suture thread. He boiled water over the fire, sterilized both, then returned to Ren’s side and sat at the edge of the couch.

“This is going to hurt,” he told him. He felt a pang of sympathy at the fear in Ren’s eyes and quickly added, “but it will be over soon, I promise. Just…hold on to something.”

One of Ren’s hands fumbled around awkwardly, searching for something to cling to. He found the bottom of Hux’s tunic and grasped a handful of it. His other hand maintained its grip on the sofa cushion.

Hux took a steadying breath. Then he set to work, his nimble fingers working steadily to close the cuts, occasionally wetting more towels and wiping away the blood so he could see what he was doing. Ren struggled to remain still, his whole body shuddering, the fist around Hux’s shirt tightening until his knuckles were white and the other tearing at the fabric of the cushion until the filling poked out. He muffled his moans into the pillow. The room shook as his control over his powers slipped, candles rattling in their holders, the fire flaring up and flickering dangerously, his pain palpable in the very air around them. Hux bit his lip and focused, fighting against the urge to stop and let him have a moment of reprieve. This needed to be done. But it was awful.

Then it was over.

Hux let out a relieved breath as he tied the knot on the final suture and cut the thread away. He took a clean, wet cloth and wiped up the remaining blood, then washed his own shaking hands. Ren’s moans died into quiet whimpers, his violent trembles into light tremors. Hux placed a hand on his back and softly stroked up and down the quivering muscles, the other hand finding Ren’s face, guiding it out from the pillow. He wiped at the tears he found there, trying to exude as much reassurance as he could.

“It’s done,” he breathed, as much to himself as to the other man. “It’s done.”

Ren’s eyes opened and he stared at Hux, bottom lip trembling. As Hux’s gentle caress continued, he relaxed. He pressed his clammy cheek into Hux’s open palm and exhaled slowly. The warm breath tickled Hux’s forearm and gave him goosebumps. He was suddenly aware of their close proximity; it was the closest they’d ever been, other than that day in the tower. In fact, Hux couldn’t remember ever touching him before today. But he didn’t even consider pulling away. Ren seemed to need this and in some strange way it was helping Hux, too. He sat with him like that for several long minutes, stroking gently and letting them both regain their composure. Ren’s breathing evened out but he remained awake, his long lashes brushing Hux’s hand as he blinked drowsily.

Movement out of the corner of his eye finally pulled Hux’s attention away. Phasma was holding out a small container. Hux reluctantly removed his hands from Ren and took it. He opened it and was hit by a sharp smell; he dipped his fingers in and rubbed the goopy substance between them. It was some sort of salve.

“To help with the pain,” Phasma explained, “and prevent infection.”

Hux set the container in his lap and took a generous amount, which he carefully applied to the tender skin. Ren flinched and Hux’s free hand immediately moved to his chest again; Ren calmed almost instantly. When Hux was finished, he sat back and let the balm settle in. He could tell the moment it started to take effect by the way tension seeped out of Ren’s body.

“You’re going to need to sit up a little for me to bandage it,” he said. Ren pouted and Hux almost laughed. He could hardly blame him for not wanting to move after that. “Just for a moment.”

With a groan, Ren propped himself up on one arm, his face pinched. Hux watched the stitched up area carefully in case anything started bleeding again. To his relief, it didn’t.

Ren got himself partially upright but struggled to hold himself there. Hux took pity on him and tugged at his shoulders, easing him until he slumped forward with his head on Hux’s shoulder. His skin was worryingly cold where Hux could feel Ren’s forehead pressed to his neck. Hux took a patch of gauze and a roll of bandages from one of the knights. Gently but snugly he bandaged Ren’s side. When he was done, he expected Ren to plop back over, but he remained where he was, breathing slowly and deeply. Hux didn’t have it in him to push him off, or even to roll his eyes or make a remark. He was exhausted and shaken and confused but above all grateful to be alive, not torn to pieces or slowly freezing to death. He let Ren stay a moment, then helped him lie down. By now Ren was half asleep, but he kept his drooping gaze fixed on Hux.

“Get some rest,” Hux told him while pulling a blanket over him; it barely covered his huge form and his feet poked out at the end. Hux moved to pull away when he felt a tug at his clothing. He glanced down to see Ren’s long fingers still holding onto his tunic. Ren was watching him, an unspoken question in his eyes. “I’ll stay,” Hux quickly added.

It was the right thing to say. With a soft sigh, Ren let his eyes drift shut and dozed off.

Hux went upstairs to change into dry clothes. When he returned, the knights had taken away the pile of bloodied towels and Ren’s clothes and left a fresh bowl of water along with the case of medical supplies. A cot, pillow, and blankets lay on the floor not far from the couch. The knights were gone and only Phasma stood guard at the doorway. Her gaze – or where Hux tended to think it was in the visor of her helmet – met his and she nodded in silent thanks. He shrugged vaguely, too tired to think let alone speak, and collapsed onto the cot.

Chapter Text

Kylo often had nightmares but he rarely dreamed.

Now, though, he dreamed the same thing nearly every night. Through half-opened eyelids, a gray sky, dark tips of tree branches reaching up like claws. Pain. Fear. Then a head of windblown copper hair. Then a face. Pink lips, blue eyes, pale lashes, a splash of freckles. A face he’d come to know so well and yet in this light it looked new, soft in a way it never had before. An arm reaching towards him. Relief. Gratitude.

In those dreams, just like in that moment, he was the most beautiful thing Kylo had ever seen.

*

“How does it feel today?”

Hux was sitting on the edge of the couch, carefully removing Ren’s bandages. It had been a week and a half since that day in the woods and his wounds were healing nicely. Hux had been beyond relieved when he became certain they weren’t going to get infected. That was something even he wasn’t sure he could handle.

The skin on Ren’s side was still pink and slightly tender around the healing cuts but otherwise looked fine. Hux set about his daily routine of gently cleaning the area and applying the balm to it. Ren flinched a little but didn’t protest. In fact, Hux found he calmed down from his near-constant state of agitation every time Hux so much as sat beside him or set a hand on his skin, which was convenient. His skin was still cold to the touch but Hux realized after the first few days that it was neither from blood loss nor the weather, that it must always be that way.

"Sore. Itchy."

"Don't you dare scratch it."

"I wasn't going to," Ren grumbled into the pillow. He was quivering a little, as he did every time he had to move and allow Hux to treat the wounds. Once the painkilling effect of the balm kicked in he'd settle down; until then, Hux kept a placating hand on his shoulder, his thumb brushing up and down absentmindedly.

"Are you cold?"

Ren shook his head. They sat in silence.

"Thank you," Ren mumbled, so quietly Hux almost thought he’d imagined it. He motioned to his side in explanation.

Hux cleared his throat. He suddenly missed their old arguing. It had been tiresome but at least it was familiar territory. Now that the urgency had settled, things were strange. They’d returned from the cold woods different from when they’d entered. Hux didn’t know what to think anymore.

"Well. It was the least I could do. You saved my life."

"And you saved mine. Besides, I was merely protecting my secret."

That made Hux look him in the eye. If Hux had died out there, frozen to death or torn apart by wild animals, that would have protected the castle and its secrets. They both knew it. Saving him, though...Hux couldn't figure out what had possessed Ren to do that.

Several retorts sat on the tip of his tongue, but he withheld them. There was no reason to call Ren’s bluff, not now, when they'd finally reached a small peace between them.

When Ren’s fidgeting eased, Hux applied new bandages and began to move away. He was stopped by Ren’s hand on his arm, a touch so light he almost didn’t feel it.

"Wait, um. Just. Wait. Please."

Hux had never heard Ren sound so beseeching before, so with a curious frown he eased back onto the edge of the sofa.

Ren removed his hand, looking like he wanted to say something. He began toying with the edge of his bandages until Hux huffed and grabbed his long fingers to still them. Seeing no other option, he set the hand on his lap and held it down with both of his own, his expression daring Ren to try tampering with his handiwork again.

This only seemed to further impede Ren’s ability to speak. He stared at their hands like the answer to some important question was held between them. Hux grew impatient.

"Is there something you need? Because if not, it's nearly lunchtime and I'd really like–”

"I'm sorry," Ren blurted out.

Hux gaped at him.

"I'm sorry," Ren repeated, "for, uh, attacking you like that. And for...what I said. That was cruel. I'm not always...I wasn't always…like that. That’s not the point, the point is…you…didn’t deserve that.” Ren paused, looking uncertain, then added quietly, “or any of this. And then you saved me, and I don’t know what to…how to, um…”

Stunned speechless, Hux didn’t even consider interrupting, though Ren was rambling at this point. His hand was twitching in Hux's grasp and Hux held firm.

"Anyway, I overreacted and…I'm very sorry. That's...all."

Hux was surprised to even be receiving an apology. While he was still frustrated by the time lost being kept against his will, with sudden clarity he realized that he’d never truly been in danger here. While Ren was volatile and hot-tempered, he wasn’t sadistic. He’d probably have tired of Hux eventually and let him leave, or been collected by his master and Hux would have been free to go. As for that day in the tower, he went over it in his mind, tried to relive the rage and despair he’d felt, but it was gone. For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, he was no longer angry.

There was also the odd nature of Ren’s apology. He said it with finality, as though he didn’t actually expect Hux to accept it. As though he had already come to terms with its rejection.

While Hux sorted out his thoughts, Ren had slipped his hand from Hux's grasp and was lying on his good side, staring at the wall, his large body curled in a crescent around Hux. Hux watched the slow rise and fall of his ribs and the blinking of his dark lashes. He seemed so human. An exceedingly maladjusted human, perhaps, but then so was Hux in his own way.

“What you said,” Hux mused out loud, drawing Ren’s attention back to him, “you were right about one thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one will notice that I’m gone. Well, one person, maybe,” he amended, remembering Maz with a twinge of regret. “But no one cares, and certainly no one is coming for me.”

Ren’s brow furrowed but he didn’t interrupt.

“We’re alike in that way. Alone in the world. Well, if one doesn’t count living cutlery and footstools and such.” He glanced at Ren with a smirk. “And I also would have been furious if I caught someone trying to take something valuable from me. So in a way I suppose I…understand…”

He trailed off, resolutely keeping his eyes locked with Ren’s, as uncomfortable as being so open made him. It was clearly more than Ren had expected, from the astonishment on his face as he stared back at Hux.

“You were wrong about one thing, though,” Hux added to break the silence. “There is, as you said, something I want. But I will have it, one day,” and though his eyes were icy blue there was fire in his gaze.

“What is it?”

Hux briefly hesitated. Did he want to share this part of himself? Would Ren mock him the way everyone else did?

“I want to invent things that will change the world,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. When Ren said nothing, he elaborated, even though he already felt like he’d said too much. “After the war, there was chaos, much of which could have been avoided with the right tools. Better means of distributing food and resources, better communication, better weapons for ensuring order. I have so many ideas, but, well…” he trailed off with a distant look.

Ren didn’t question him or mock him. Ren didn’t say anything. He just watched Hux’s face with an unreadable expression. Unsure of what else to say, Hux cleared his throat and stood. Ren didn’t stop him this time.

“I’m going to get lunch if that’s alright.”

Ren only nodded.

Hux began to leave the room. He stopped in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. Ren’s hand had snuck down to fiddle with the bandages again.

“Ren.”

“Mm?”

“Stop that.”

“…Kylo.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me Ren anymore. Um. It’s not really…just, call me Kylo?”

“Kylo.” Hux tested the name on his tongue. He’d only used it one other time: when trying to haul him back to the castle. It wasn’t such a bad name.

No worse than Armitage, his mind supplied.

“Alright,” he conceded, “Kylo, you touch those bandages again and I will bandage your hands together until you’re fully healed.”

As he marched away, Hux missed the flicker of a smile cross Kylo’s face.

*

In the days that followed, Kylo thought with growing guilt about the ambitions Hux had shared with him. He thought about the dream he once had of becoming powerful, how he would have hated for someone to ruin it for him, though he'd managed that on his own. He thought about the curse on his household that should have been his alone to bear, how he would never forgive anyone who tried to prevent him from freeing them. Just because he’d blown his own shot at his dreams didn’t mean he had to impede Hux’s.

"I have to show you something," he announced one day, a week or so later. Kylo was better, up and moving around again, and had finally worked up the courage to do this.

Hux looked miffed at the interruption from his reading but curiosity got the better of him. He marked his page and stood to follow Kylo.

Kylo brought him to a stairwell that led downstairs into darkness.

"Is this the part where you finally kill me?” It certainly looked like the sort of place where one would be murdered and the body never found.

"Damn, you spoiled the surprise," Kylo deadpanned. Hux just stared at his face until Kylo’s mouth twitched, and Hux realized he was joking. He gave a breathy laugh and Kylo tried to interpret that as a good thing.

Kylo waved his hand and the stairwell and hall below lit up with candlelight.

They descended the stairs, Kylo wincing slightly as the movement jarred the only recently repaired flesh of his side. Hux placed a hand on his back to steady him and Kylo gave him a quick look but didn't push him away.

Their destination was a door a short distance from the foot of the stairs. Kylo hesitated in front of it. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what was inside but it was too late to turn back now.

With an exhale and a determined nod, Kylo unlocked the door and pushed it open. Its hinges creaked loudly in protest as the room came into view. No one had been down here in years and it was abundantly clear. Unlike most of the castle, this room was not maintained by enchanted brooms and dust mops. It was a large room, at least as big as the sitting room upstairs. Candles lined the walls but they weren't necessary at the moment. The top of the room was just above ground level and a line of thin windows along the far wall allowed beams of light to fall in and catch the dusty air. Beneath the windows sat a row of shut cabinets. Several long tables stretched across the space, each with an equally long bench on either side. There were sheets draped over the tables, covered in a layer of dust. Lumps here and there indicated things of varying sizes and shapes hidden beneath the covers.

"What is this?" Hux asked, nose scrunching up.

"It's my f- ...what's that face for?"

Hux couldn't answer; he immediately burst into a sneezing fit.

"Would it - have been - so hard - to clean up a bit - before bringing me - here?" Hux gritted out between sneezes.

Kylo laughed before he knew what was happening. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly laughed and it felt strange, but not bad. Not bad at all. Hux glared at him, eyes watering and hand covering his nose and mouth.

"Oh, fine," Kylo took pity on him. With a gust of his magic he gathered up the dust into a tight cloud and dropped it into a corner of the room. He caught a glimpse of Hux's disgusted look. "I'll take care of it later. Come on."

Kylo walked to one of the tables and dramatically pulled the sheet from it. It was covered in a variety of metal parts.

"This is - was - my father's workshop. Tools are in there." Kylo pointed to the cabinets. "He was good with his hands, like you. He fixed things a lot. Built me things." He looked at the table of parts wistfully.

"Do you miss them? Your parents?" Hux asked gently. He seemed nervous. Maybe he feared that the question would cause Kylo to lash out, and that made regret stir in Kylo. He didn’t want Hux to fear him.

Kylo kept his gaze on the table, his long fingers fiddling with a stray bolt.

"No," he lied, "They mean nothing to me."

Hux considered him a moment but changed the subject.

"Why are you showing me this?"

Kylo's hands came together in front of his stomach, rubbing against and over each other, a nervous habit. When Hux’s eyes drifted down to them curiously he moved them behind his back.

"You...didn't have to bring me back. You could have left me there. Anyone else would have. And you certainly didn't have to take care of me, but you did. I'm very grateful. Consider this my thanks."

“You already thanked me.”

“It…wasn’t enough.” Kylo shifted on his feet. “Well? Do you want it or not?”

Hux looked around the room again then turned his attention to the parts on the table. Suddenly his face lit up.

“I’ve been looking for one of these!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Hux spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through the parts and tools and organizing them to his liking, the whole time chatting away. Kylo stayed, perched on a stool, content to listen and watch him flutter about.

“If you’re going to linger you could at least be useful,” Hux declared at one point. He began pointing at things and asking Kylo to hand them to him, or move them from one place to another, or open this box here or that container there. Unwilling to move, Kylo used his powers to complete most of these tasks, which Hux watched with a mix of annoyance and fascination.

“So you really can do magic.”

“Yes,” he replied. He hesitated, and then added, “I could show you more sometime?”

Hux’s eyes met his, blazing in the dim light. Kylo was captivated by them.

“Yes. Alright.”

Then, for the first time ever, Hux smiled at him.

Chapter Text

Hux didn’t dream often, and when he did they were as ordinary as his day-to-day life and easily dismissed.

But now he had a nightmare, and it was neither of those things.

Kylo stands before him, smiling. The two of them face each other in the only lit spot surrounded by seemingly infinite darkness. Then hands, thin and white as bone, reach from the shadows and close around Kylo’s throat. His smile fades into a look of terror. His hand reaches for Hux but Hux is frozen in place. Hux tries to call his name but no sound comes out. The hands drag Kylo into the darkness. Hux remains standing as the light around him expands. He can see, he can move freely, but he is alone.

Hux would wake up trembling, eyes damp, his mouth open around an unformed word, with no memory of why.

*

Over the passing weeks, they settled into a comfortable routine. They ate breakfast together and then Kylo went up to his tower to train and Hux would sketch out plans or explore the castle or sift through the contents of the library. They’d reconvene to eat lunch and afterwards Hux would head down to his workshop – his workshop, he often thought with delight – and tinker to his heart’s content. Sometimes Kylo went back upstairs but more often he joined Hux.

Normally Hux hated someone watching while he worked; he shooed away his clients when they tried.  But Kylo was…odd, yes, but curious, and could match Hux’s sharp wit. He kept his distance and asked smart questions and Hux found he enjoyed sharing what he was doing. From there, conversations frequently drifted to other topics. Hux had never talked so much with anyone before. The villagers had always considered Hux cold and unapproachable, and Kylo’s reclusive life hadn’t done him any favors when it came to socializing. Yet with each other they managed to have discussions that lasted hours. Even when they bickered, it was interesting.

At the end of the day they’d eat dinner, then retire to the sitting room and light a fire. Hux read most evenings; sometimes Kylo read, too, other nights he’d sprawl out on the couch and stare into the flames, a far off look on his face.

Some nights, they sat on the floor in front of the fire together and Kylo would show Hux a little of his magic. He’d make the flames rise up and dance, snuff them then reignite them with just a flick of his wrist, float things around Hux’s head or even lift Hux himself off the ground. No matter what he did, or how many times he did it, Hux was fascinated every time, spouting question after question, which Kylo did his best to answer.

Kylo even let Hux hold the crystal, once. Hux was surprised to find that it was warm to the touch. The opposite of Kylo, who was perpetually cold, as if all his warmth had been sucked into it along with his remaining humanity.

By now, Hux accepted it all: the curse, an evil sorcerer, the enchanted castle, Kylo’s magic. He let this new knowledge settle in his mind and rework his understanding of the world, which was much less complete than he once thought.

“Phasma said…” Hux began one night. He paused, concerned it was a sensitive subject. Kylo tilted his head. “She told me that growing up you wanted more power. Why? You can do so much already.”

Kylo contemplated the question.

“Well…it’s like you said once. About chaos after the war. I noticed it too. I saw my mother struggle day after day to make peace. So many meetings, so much talking. That’s all ruling seemed to be. I was never good at those things, but I liked fighting. I’d always think how she was so powerful and yet never used it to enforce her will. It made me angry.”

Kylo played with a match as he spoke, lighting then snuffing it with his powers as he rolled it between his long fingers. Hux scooted closer until their shoulders brushed.

“I thought that the only way to ensure order was through force. Violence, if necessary, but also displays of power. So that people know who’s in charge. Mother didn’t like that. We argued constantly.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands. He gave a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if I ever really cared about peace. I think I just wanted to prove her wrong. And now…”

He held his hand open. The match floated a few inches above his palm, where it reignited and the flame flared up until it consumed the entire thing. Within seconds, it burned to ash.

Kylo was beginning to get that distant look, retreating into his dark thoughts. Hux brushed the ashes from Kylo’s palm and then stood quickly.

“And now you’re here, and I’m here, and I’m hungry. I know it’s late but do you think the kitchen will throw together a pot of soup?”

Kylo looked at his hand, then at Hux.

“I’m sure it will,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face as he stood to join him.

“Imagine if I invented a device that could make me soup with the flip of a switch.”

A startled laugh bubbled from Kylo’s throat.

“Now that would be world-changing.”

*

Kylo hadn’t had anything like a routine in a very long time, not since he was a child taking lessons at his mother’s insistence. The expectations, the obligation felt suffocating to him, and he came to resent it all.

This wasn’t like that.

Hux was orderly in a natural, undemanding way. He simply lead and Kylo fell into step beside him. His life was better for it: he focused better on his training than he had in years and felt relaxed in the downtime. There were things to do at any given moment and for once he didn’t feel like he was rotting away, counting down the hours.

Hux wasn’t physical and boisterous the way Kylo was. He could be quiet and still for long periods of time without impatience, but Kylo didn’t mind because it gave him a chance to really look at Hux.

Before his flight into the woods, Hux had begun to grow thin and pallid, his unhappiness plain to see on every inch of him, yet Kylo hadn’t seen until it was almost too late.

The contrast between then and now was glaring. Now that Hux ate and slept well and eagerly pursued his hobbies, he was like a different man. Healthy and…well, the verdict was still out on happy, but Kylo would take healthy, the renewed color to his skin and fullness to his once-gaunt cheeks and the frequency with which he smiled and chuckled and spoke.

He was stunning, and Kylo could look at him all day. He wished he was invisible so that he could do so without Hux having to look at him.

The desire to look soon became a desire to touch. When Hux had been hunched over a project all day and sat up to stretch, groaning at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders, Kylo had to suppress the urge to reach out and place his hands on those places and smooth out the ache.

When the light through the windows hit his hair just so and made it gleam like strands of fire, Kylo wanted to run his fingers through it to see if it burned.

Hux had freckles. He hadn’t noticed them before and now he couldn’t un-notice them. He wanted to lean in close and examine their pattern, how nicely the soft sprinkle of brown contrasted with the piercing blue of Hux’s eyes.

Once, as a child, his uncle had visited and brought with him artifacts from all over the world.

“These aren’t yours,” his father told him. “Look, don’t touch.”

Young Kylo didn’t listen, and broke a valuable old clock. His parents scolded, he yelled, they fought, he stormed away and never apologized.

For ten years now his world had been dark and cold and Hux was like a burst of blazing sunlight, passionate and bright and lively. But only to appreciate and be warmed by from afar.

Not his. Look, don’t touch.

*

Kylo entered the sitting room. Hux was sketching out designs and only looked up when Kylo came to stand beside the desk, hovering awkwardly. He was bundled up and wearing his cloak.

“I’m going to get more firewood,” he announced.

Hux stared at him.

“Congratulations,” he finally replied.

“Would…you like to come with me?”

Hux turned to look out the window. It seemed nice out. There was at least a foot of snow on the ground, but no wind, and the sun was shining.

He turned back to Kylo, brow furrowed, trying to work out his intentions. He’d never asked Hux to go with him before. He’d never offered for Hux to go outside for any reason, though he never explicitly forbid it, either.

“I thought you might like some fresh air?” Kylo added uncertainly.

That did sound nice. Hux hated the cold, but if he dressed warmly enough…

“Do you have something warm I could wear?” The coat he took the day he ran away had been unsalvageable, ripped from catching on branches and blood-stained from the aftermath. He hadn’t been outside since then, so he hadn’t thought to look for another one.

“Of course,” Kylo said with a little smirk, “A whole castle full, in fact. I don’t think the owners will mind.”

Hux decided not to mention that if Kylo broke the curse and the owners became human again, they might. That would only dampen Kylo’s unusually good mood.

“Alright, then, since you know so much, how about you find me something to wear and I’ll finish this up?”

Once, ordering him around like that might have riled Kylo up for an argument, but now his lips curved into a smile instead of a snarl, and he hurried off.

Hux should have known it was too good to be true. Kylo returned a few minutes later, just as Hux was standing and stretching after sitting for so long. Hux turned to see he was carrying several pieces of clothing slung over one arm, and on top of them…

“What is that?”

“This is the warmest cloak in the entire castle.”

“It’s…rather garish, don’t you think?”

“Who cares? There’s no one here but us. It’ll keep you warm.”

Kylo sounded more offended than necessary considering it wasn’t his clothing, it was much too small. Hux frowned at the cloak. It was a rich, dark pink in color, with a lighter pink lining and white embroidery around the edge of the hood and along the bottom. It appeared to be valuable, more so than anything a maid or cook would own.

“Kylo,” Hux asked cautiously, “was – is – that your mother’s?”

Surprise flickered across Kylo’s face, gone just as fast, replaced with a sad smile.

“My grandmother’s,” he corrected. “I never met her, only heard stories. I wish I could have, she was…incredible, from what my mother told me.”

Hux walked over to him and ran his hand over the cloak. Up close it was even nicer; the detail in the embroidery was gorgeous and now Hux could see an ornate silver clasp at the neck. It was made of soft wool that would be very warm to wear indeed.

He felt a tug of guilt over his initial reaction to it.

“It’s beautiful,” he said sincerely. “Are you sure-“

Are you sure you want me to wear this? Are you sure you trust me? Do I deserve something so nice?

“Yes,” Kylo answered. “Here. Put these on first.” He lifted the cloak to reveal the other clothes he was carrying: a pair of pants and a thick tunic, both a deep burgundy. They were large enough for him to slip over what he was already wearing, and with the cloak he’d have three layers between him and the cold. “And these.” Kylo handed him a pair of boots. When he finished lacing them up he stood and held his hands out for the cloak.

Instead of handing it to him, Kylo stepped forward, stepped close, mere inches from Hux. So close that Hux could see every detail of his odd face, every slant and curve, every mole, the deep inkwells of eyes. He seemed nervous, though Hux couldn’t imagine why.

Kylo unfolded the cloak and carefully draped it around Hux’s shoulders. He fastened the silver clasp and then ran his hands over the fabric a few times to smooth it out. When he was done, his hands still lingered on Hux’s shoulders. His eyes wandered up Hux’s face to his hair, now slightly disheveled from Kylo pulling the cloak around him. Kylo’s hands hesitantly moved up and smoothed that down, too.

As Kylo’s big hands moved over him, more gently than one so dark and menacing had a right to be, some undefinable feeling began to well up in Hux. It started in his chest and rose into his throat where it caught and made him speechless, up to his lips which trembled and his eyes which suddenly burned. He couldn’t remember if anyone had ever doted on him in such a way, or cared at all for his wellbeing.

“Hux? Hux?”

Hux swallowed and cleared his throat.

“What?”

Are you ready?”

“Of course I’m ready. Any more layers and I won’t be able to move.”

Kylo smiled and swept a hand over the cloak once more before pulling away.

“It looks good on you,” he mumbled, then turned quickly to the door before Hux could respond.

It was chilly out, but more than bearable with the sun. The thick layer of snow was just short of melting and gave easily beneath their boots. Hux stood in the middle of the gardens and turned his face upward; he took a breath of the crisp air, which smelled like snow and wet leaves.

When he opened his eyes, Kylo was watching him. He looked away quickly, but Hux had already seen the fascinated look on his face.

What was that for?

He looked around, taking in what must have been lovely gardens at one time. Then his eyes landed on the row of hedges surrounding them, where there was still a clear gap from branches broken off in his frantic escape. It felt like years had gone by since then, when it had only been a couple of months. He felt like a different man.

He could feel Kylo’s eyes on him again and it didn’t take so much as a glance in his direction to know he was also remembering that day.

Kylo must have considered that once outside, Hux would think about leaving again. Of course, Kylo could catch him effortlessly. He was faster and stronger and had his powers. But Hux had a feeling that he wouldn’t even try.

Besides, Hux had at least four unfinished projects in the workshop, two chapters left in the book he was reading, all of his sketches were still on the table where he’d left them…

Not to mention he’d be running off with Kylo’s grandmother’s cloak.

He almost laughed. It was no contest, really. A trek through the snowy woods to return to his good-for-nothing father and a village full of nosy neighbors didn’t hold a candle to the thought of returning inside, lighting a fire and settling in with a book. Perhaps there was something wrong with him.

When he turned back to Kylo he found he’d turned away and was looking towards the shed. His head was bowed and there was a tense hunch to his shoulders. A couple times he made an aborted motion to turn around before catching himself. Then he began to move forward, away from Hux.

Well. If Kylo expected him to run off, Hux certainly wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right.

And how dare he just leave Hux standing here like this?

Hux crouched down and scooped up a handful of snow, patting it together into a rough ball. He took aim, swung his arm, and…

THWAP

The snow hit square in the middle of Kylo’s broad back, sticking for a moment before plopping to the ground. Kylo froze in his tracks, going rigid, fists clenched in surprise. His head turned slowly to look back at Hux, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

Kylo’s gaze lowered to the dent in the snow where the snowball had landed, then back to Hux, whose hand was still extended a little.

“Did you just…?”

“You weren’t waiting for me.”

Kylo pouted.

“So you throw snow at me?”

“You can throw some back, you know.”

“That’s…that’s childish…”

“That’s rich, coming from the man who complains his desserts aren’t sweet enough.”

Now Hux was deliberately egging him on, hoping for retaliation.

He was not disappointed.

Scowling, Kylo gathered a substantial amount of snow in his large hands, which were gloveless, and Hux wanted to yell at him to put some on but he didn’t have a chance before a snowball the size of his head was barreling towards him.

He barely moved in time and the edge of the snowball grazed his shoulder. A second one followed quickly and hit him in the chest, making him stumble and nearly fall back into the snow.

Perhaps picking a fight with a massive, temperamental magic-user wasn’t his brightest idea.

He crouched down quickly to scoop up and pack another snowball and launch it back at Kylo. While Kylo dodged, he scrambled over to take partial cover behind a snow-covered bench. He made several more and threw them rapidly one after the other. Kylo put his arms up to block them and Hux wondered why he didn’t just use his powers. Maybe he thought that would be too easy.

Hux paused in his assault and waited. Slowly, Kylo lowered his arms, peeking out one eye first, then both, then his whole face. Hux sprung to his feet and flung his last snowball. It hit Kylo in the face and splattered, leaving him dazed and blinking rapidly.

Hux burst out laughing at his bewildered expression. As Hux laughed he only grew more indignant and that only made Hux laugh harder. He couldn’t help it. Here they were playing in the snow like children; the whole thing was absurd and Kylo’s expression was the icing on the cake.

While he tried to compose himself, Kylo had stretched out his hands and appeared to be focusing on something in front of him. Suddenly, a huge mound of snow rose up and began to drift towards him. He caught a glimpse of Kylo’s smug little grin.

Hux was still chuckling a little even as the pile drew closer and rose above him, blocking out the sun and casting him in shadow. With a resigned sigh he closed his eyes.

THWUMP

For a moment, the sudden darkness and weight of snow was frightening. Then it was oddly comforting, like a blanket. Then it was just cold.

He was about to sit up when he heard shuffling and felt a weight settle across his hips. Then he could feel air on his face, just over one eye first, then both, then his cheeks and nose and mouth and chin and forehead as Kylo dug him out. Then two large hands cupped his cheeks.

“Hux?”

Hux opened his eyes to see Kylo looking down at him, a little amused and a little nervous.

“Are you okay?”

Hux nodded. Kylo looked over him sheepishly.

“Too much?”

“Everything with you is too much,” Hux replied. Then he smiled and grabbed a fistful of snow, which he smushed onto Kylo’s head and rubbed into his hair. Kylo scrunched up his face but didn’t try to move away.

His hands were still on Hux’s cheeks, long legs still straddling him. Only after Hux felt he’d adequately doused Kylo in snow did he register this.

Their eyes met. In the bright light, Kylo looked like a statue carved out of marble and onyx, except his eyes were too soft and full of emotion to be anything but alive. Hux suddenly wanted to reach out and trace his angles and draw lines with his fingers between the scattered moles on his face. He wanted to feel if his hair was as soft as it always looked; he regretted missing his chance just now when he was too busy mussing it.

A biting breeze blew in and Hux shivered violently, clenching his eyes shut. He could feel the sting of cold on every soaked inch of himself and suddenly the sunlight wasn’t enough.

Kylo’s hands moved, one sliding around the back of his head and the other around his shoulders, and he pulled Hux up into a sitting position. Then he wrapped his arms around Hux’s waist.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” he instructed.

Hux did, curious but too focused on how miserably cold he was to ask.

In one swift motion Kylo stood, dislodging Hux from the snow and pulling him up off the ground.

Literally, off the ground.

His breath hitched in surprise and he clung on tightly as he was lifted, feet dangling in the air. For a moment, Kylo made no motion to set him down. It was almost like an embrace: his strong arms locked around Hux’s torso, Hux’s looped around his neck. Then Kylo’s grip gradually loosened, allowing Hux to slowly slide down until his feet touched the ground. Even then, Hux didn’t withdraw his arms until another gust of wind made him pull back to draw the cloak tighter around his shoulders. He made a little sound of dismay as he realized that not an inch of it remained dry.

He and Kylo both spoke at once.

“I’m so sorry, I hope I haven’t ruined it – “

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry – “

They stopped and started again.

“I’m fine, let’s just get inside – “

“It’s fine, we’ll hang it up inside – “

Kylo’s jaw snapped shut and Hux huffed out a teeth-chattering laugh. He prodded Kylo forward.

“Go on, get the firewood.”

Kylo hurried to do so, loading up the canvas carrier he used and hauling it up over his shoulder. Hux watched and shivered and then held the door for him. He swept into the warm sitting room and quickly shut and locked the door.

As soon as they were inside Kylo hastily dropped the logs with a loud clunk and grabbed a couple to toss into the fire, which had died down to just embers. Then he was in Hux’s space, removing the cloak and pulling him further into the room. He tossed the cloak onto an armchair without so much as a glance, all of his attention on Hux.

“What are you – “

“Dry clothes,” he ordered, pointing, “now.”

Hux didn’t argue. He shuffled up to his room and returned bundled in the warmest thing his room’s wardrobe had to offer, with thick socks and a blanket around his shoulders for good measure.

Kylo was waiting, holding two cups of…something. Hux sat down beside him and Kylo handed him one. It was light brown and had steam floating from the surface carrying a scent he hadn’t encountered in a long time.

“…chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate. My mother used to make it for me on days like this. Try it, it’s good.”

Hux took a cautious sip. It was good, a little sweet and a little bitter, warm and smooth going down his throat. He sighed and eagerly drank more. Beside him, Kylo chuckled.

“See? Good.”

They sat together with their drinks, shoulders and knees brushing. Kylo kept glancing over at him; Hux fought the urge to question him, not wanting to break the comfortable silence.

Eventually Kylo did anyway.

“What did yours do?”

“Hm?”

“Your mother. Did she do anything for you when it was cold or when you were sick?”

Hux stared at the bottom of his now empty cup, which felt like a strangely appropriate metaphor for his feelings regarding his mother: hollowness where something warm should have been.

“I never met her,” he confessed quietly. “I was the result of an affair, during the war. My father’s wife hated me; she never treated me like a son.” He shrugged and gave a breathy laugh. “It sounds sad I guess, but it’s just part of who I am. Saying it is like telling you about the weather. It just…is.”

Kylo had gone still beside him. One of his large hands twitched a little like he wanted to move it but wasn’t sure if he should.

“And…your father…?”

“Is cruel, bitter, perpetually drunk and disapproves of my choice of career.”

“I see.”

Kylo was quiet for so long that Hux began to regret saying anything, though he’d only been answering his questions. Perhaps he’d gone into too much detail. After all, why, with everything that had happened, would he care about Hux’s small, sad life?

“It’s, um. Impressive, then, isn’t it. I think.” Kylo commented quietly. Hux frowned at him.

“What is?”

“You. I mean,” Kylo mumbled and cleared his throat. He rolled the cup between his palms and focused on the motion, not meeting Hux’s eyes. “Even with a family like that, you became so. So. Ambitious, and clever, and – and other things.” Hux wondered what other things those were, but Kylo was barreling through the words too quickly. “You – you’re capable of so much. You taught yourself most of what you know, right? That’s incredible. And from the moment you arrived you’ve been…fearless. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

He finished with a long sigh through his nose, now gripping the cup tightly. His hands were shaking.

Hux didn’t know what to say.

He had complete confidence in his skills; his work received no shortage of compliments from grateful clients. But himself, as a person, he tended not to linger on. It was too easy to recall the echoes of words from the past, those of his father and stepmother: weak, useless, waste of space.

It was incredible what one could find when they stopped looking for it. The missing sock to a pair, a part he’d been looking for, a castle to take shelter in the storm. Here, against all odds, he’d found the acceptance, the validation he told himself he didn’t care about but had always, deep down, wanted more than anything. And he’d found it in the form of a reclusive monster who, it turned out, wasn’t much of a monster after all.

“Thank you,” he finally muttered. It didn’t feel like a sufficient way to express what he felt at Kylo’s words.

But Kylo turned to smile at him and their eyes met in the dim light, and it was enough.

Chapter Text

“Your hair is getting long,”

Hux looked up from where he sat in the armchair by the fire, book in hand.

Kylo was right. Hux had been here nearly five months now and while he still shaved, he hadn’t bothered trimming his hair. Now it swept softly across his brow and just past his ears. He found he rather liked it; it felt good not to care whether or not he was presentable.

“So is yours.”

“Mine has always been long.”

“Doesn’t it get in your way?”

“I tie it back if I need to.”

Hux set his book down and considered him, sensing an opportunity to do something he’d wanted to do since their snowball fight, but was unsure how Kylo would react. He had to frame it as being for Kylo’s benefit, not his own.

“Has anyone ever braided it for you?”

Kylo raised an eyebrow and motioned with one arm to the empty room.

“Who? Phasma?”

Hux rolled his eyes.

“I meant before all this.”

Kylo avoided Hux’s gaze.

“...yes. My mother.”

Oh.

“Sorry, I…”

“No,” Kylo looked up at him. “It’s fine.”

Hux sat up straighter and motioned to him.

“Come here.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

“You don’t have to,” Hux replied quickly. “But I could braid it for you, if you’d like.”

Kylo’s feet shifted as he considered this. Perhaps he was bored, or didn’t feel like arguing, or maybe the hair really was in his way, because he cautiously walked over and plopped down onto the floor. He scooted so his back was against the front of the chair, Hux’s knees on either side of his broad shoulders.

As soon as he was settled, Hux wasted no time burying his fingers in the thick locks. Kylo sighed and tipped his head back into Hux’s hands. Hux chuckled.

“You like that, do you?”

Kylo didn’t answer; Hux imagined he was at least a little embarrassed. It hardly lived up to his fearsome image, to melt over having his hair stroked.

Hux admitted to himself that he liked it, too. Not just the feeling of the silky strands between his fingers, but also…the closeness. Before Kylo plucked him from the snow and into his arms, he hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d been so close to another person. He never liked people much, but Kylo was different, and not just physically. Hux got the impression that even before the curse he hadn’t been like everyone else.

He combed his fingers through and then sunk them back in again. This time he scratched lightly at Kylo’s scalp and raised his eyebrows when Kylo gave another soft sigh and slumped more heavily against the chair.

Unable to resist, he spent a few minutes experimentally alternating between running his fingers through the dark hair and rubbing at Kylo’s scalp. He continued until Kylo’s breaths grew slow and even.

Hux threaded his fingers through one more time then took the hair and gathered it back. Kylo's hands shot up suddenly and loosened it. Hux frowned.

"Did I pull too hard?"

"No, it's...nevermind."

Hux shrugged and started again. As soon as he'd gathered up the hair Kylo's hands went up again to tug at it. Hux huffed in irritation and released his hair entirely.

"Do you want me to do this or not?"

"Yes! But…" Kylo's hands lingered at the sides of his head and it took another moment before Hux realized: he was covering his ears.

"Don't tell me they're pointed or something." Hux grasped Kylo's hands and moved them away.

Two perfectly normal, if slightly large, ears greeted him.

"I don't see anything wrong."

"They're huge."

If Kylo didn't seem so genuinely embarrassed Hux would have burst out laughing at the idea of someone as powerful as Kylo being insecure about his ears of all things.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but all of you is huge." It was out before Hux could help himself.

It didn't help one bit. Kylo began to move from where he sat but Hux caught his shoulders and eased him back. There was no protest, only a grumble as Kylo's head plopped back against the seat cushion. Hux ran his fingers through his hair again to soothe him. And maybe, maybe because he liked the feel of it a little too much.

"There now, they aren't so bad." Still, when he pulled Kylo's hair back this time he left it a little looser so that some draped over the tops of his ears. Then he began a plait starting at the crown of Kylo's head and working downward.

Kylo closed his eyes and a comfortable silence settled over them. Hux still had one question, though, and figured now was as good a time to ask as any.

"What happens to you?” he asked softly. “If the curse isn't broken."

"I stay like this forever.” He motioned vaguely to his face with a sigh. “And..."

"And?"

"And I become the apprentice of the sorcerer who did this."

"Isn’t that what you wanted?"

“It’s what I thought I wanted. I was young and foolish. I didn’t think anyone else would get hurt…”

Kylo’s voice shook. Whether with anger or sadness, Hux couldn’t tell. Maybe both.

“You’re going to free them,” Hux said firmly.

“And if I don’t?”

Perhaps he should have had to think about his answer longer. But the first thing that came to Hux’s mind was a moment months ago, what felt like a lifetime, when Kylo had prevented him from breaking a single small vase lest it end up being a member of his unfortunate household. Even all these years later, he was still looking out for them the best he could.

"You will," he answered without hesitation.

Kylo was silent, but his shoulders trembled. Hux slid one hand from Kylo’s hair to his face, where he felt tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. Even his tears are cold, he thought. He wiped them away and felt the subtle dip of Ren's head into his palm, seeking his warm touch.

Hux tied off the end of the braid and then reached back to grab a blanket that was draped over the chair. He spread it over Kylo’s lap and pulled it up to his shoulders. Then he settled back comfortably and his hands resumed their place, alternating between lightly stroking Kylo’s face and playing with wisps of soft hair that had slipped free of the braid.

Kylo’s head came to rest against the side of Hux’s knee. Soon after, they were both asleep.

When Hux woke early the next day he found himself in his bedroom, covered in blankets with thick wool socks on his feet that he was certain he hadn’t been wearing the night before. The curtains were drawn shut so the morning light didn't disturb him.

He thought back to the night before, replaying bits of it in his mind. Feeling warm inside and out, he curled up on his side and fell back asleep.

*

Most of Hux’s life very little had changed. Year after year of school. Obeying the rules, doing what was expected of him. Excelling, but never really getting anywhere. Moving with his father from town to town, each one just like the last.

Then…a castle. Then magic and curses and sorcerers.

Then Kylo.

Of all the things Hux had discovered here, Kylo was the biggest revelation. Hux had never met someone he actually wanted to be around, or who wanted to be around him for that matter. One minute they’d be deep in conversation, the next minute they’d be arguing, an hour later they’d be sitting together in comfortable silence. Hux didn’t know what to make of it. He wondered if this was what having a friend was like. He wondered if it was normal to feel warm inside when one thought about a friend.

He hadn’t felt like a prisoner in quite a while. He could do what he liked, he was warm, fed, and clothed. It might have made him feel like some sort of pet or hired companion, except for the simple fact that Kylo never asked a thing of him.

Somewhere along the way, Hux had stopped caring about leaving. Still, he knew he couldn’t stay here forever.

He also saw, now, that staying forever had never been a possibility to begin with.

Hux didn’t know how much time remained before the sorcerer came to collect his apprentice, only that there wasn’t much. Kylo would be gone, and Hux could move on with his life.

The thought should have been a relief. Instead, it caused an uneasy feeling in Hux’s stomach that was fixed only by getting lost in his work or listening to Kylo ramble on about something.

As he sat by his bedroom window watching the snow fall, that feeling began to creep up on Hux again. He opened the book that had been sitting idly in his lap and tried in vain to distract himself.

It was a relief when he heard Kylo call his name from downstairs, finally in from whatever he’d been doing outside. Hux hurried down to find Kylo removing his boots, half-melted snowflakes still clinging to his hair and clothes.

With a sigh, Hux walked over and tugged at his cloak.

“Go put on dry clothes before you catch cold and I have to take care of you.”

Kylo blinked at him through strands of damp hair. Hux reached out and brushed them out of his face, diligently ignoring how Kylo tilted his cheek ever so slightly towards his warm palm.

“I’m not soaked,” Kylo argued, “It’s just the top layer.”

“Prove it.”

Kylo squirmed out of his cloak and heavy coat and then for extra measure removed his tunic, until he was left in only a long-sleeved shirt, pants and thick socks.

“See? Dry.”

“Do you own anything that isn’t black?” Hux wondered out loud, smirking as he reached out to feel.

His palm came to rest on Kylo’s chest; he could feel the rapid beating of his heart. The smile dropped from his face.

“Hux?” Kylo covered Hux’s hand with his and squeezed gently. “What is it?”

That awful, anxious feeling churned in his gut. An image was at the edge of his mind, like the moment after waking from a terrible dream he could almost remember, but not quite. Darkness, light, something reaching from the shadows…

“Hux?”

His eyes darted up to meet Kylo’s concerned gaze.

“Are you alright?”

Hux nodded slowly.

“Can I show you what I did?” Kylo asked.

Still not trusting his voice, Hux nodded again. Kylo kept his grip on Hux’s hand, linking their fingers together, and led him into the sitting room, to the window looking out to the gardens.

Just outside the window hung several oddly-shaped objects, each one filled with small seeds. Already, a few birds had gathered to feast.

“So this is what you were working on,” Hux muttered. The past few days, Kylo had joined him in the workshop more than usual and done a bit of work himself. Hux hadn’t paid him any mind, content just to have his company.

“I used to shoo them away,” Kylo admitted, “They made me angry. Their freedom was a reminder that I was trapped. It seems so silly now.”

Hux snorted. Kylo turned to him and, before he could get upset, Hux explained, “I used to feel the same. Not about birds, but…this is ridiculous…stray cats? I fed them even though father hated them. They ate and then ran off to wherever they wanted to go. I’d look at my cat – her name is Millicent, I think I’ve told you about her – anyway, I’d wonder if she could feel resentment towards them. If she felt trapped like me, and only stayed because the alternative, being on her own, was too frightening.”

When he chanced a look at Kylo again, he found him staring at Hux with a funny sort of smile on his face.

“You have told me about your cat.” Amusement laced his tone. “On numerous occasions. Usually while working, so maybe you didn’t notice.”

Hux’s face flushed.

“I think it’s sweet,” Kylo added quickly. “She’s clearly very important to you.”

Hux somehow grew even redder and turned to stare at the birds. There were now nearly a dozen.

“Well, that seems to be working. Well done.” He tried and failed to sound indifferent. “Now go put a log on the fire,” he ordered. Kylo laughed.

“There’s my Hux.”

Warmth flooded Hux at his words and he gaped at Kylo’s retreating form as he went to stoke the fire. Just as quickly the warmth gave way to the anxiety he’d been feeling far too often lately.

Feeling unsteady all of a sudden, Hux moved to sit on the couch. Kylo caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch him. Frowning, he finished with the fire and approached Hux.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He reached a hand out as if to press it to Hux’s forehead, but Hux caught it and tugged.

“Come here?” He moved to one end of the couch to make room.

Kylo sat beside him, leaving a few inches of space, his long legs bent awkwardly and hands clasped together like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Hux couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing what he needed from Kylo but unsure how to ask for it.

“You could lie down,” Hux prompted, “if you’d be more comfortable.”

Kylo snorted.

“There’s no way I could lay comfortably on half the couch. I’d end up on your lap.”

“Yes.”

Kylo went very still. He stared at Hux’s legs as if this was somehow a trick.

“Are you…you mean…”

He gave Hux one last hesitant look and, sensing no ill intent, stretched his bulk out as best he could until his head landed on Hux’s lap. He blinked up at Hux, his eyes darting nervously. Before he could panic and change his mind, Hux slid a hand into his hair and moved his fingers through it. He did it again, sinking his fingers in deeper and grazing Kylo’s scalp, then sliding his hand out and letting the silky strands fall. Kylo sighed and relaxed.

Hux kept on stroking, slowly and steadily, until his racing pulse calmed and Kylo’s eyes fluttered shut.

Soon, Kylo was asleep. Hux had left his book upstairs and he wasn’t tired enough to doze off himself. Instead, he studied Kylo’s face. With his eyes closed and the fire casting a warm glow over his ashen skin, he almost looked fully human. He also looked very young and, to Hux’s amusement, rather innocent. His slack mouth revealed the tips of his sharp canines but they did nothing to take away from the overall effect. If anything, they were somehow endearing.

A new feeling stirred inside of Hux. If he had to give it a name he might call it pity, but it was more complicated than that. He couldn’t stop thinking about the curse. His first few months here it had been something he’d stumbled into and could walk away from. Now, he could no longer deny the frustration he felt imagining Kylo forever devoted to the cruel sorcerer who would surely have him do awful things, and Phasma and the others trapped as they were if he couldn’t find a way to help them.

Even if Kylo managed to escape the sorcerer, he’d forever be alienated from the rest of the world. Hux thought of the small-minded villagers who stared at Hux’s hair and eyes but mocked him when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t want to imagine what they would do to Kylo. People like that would never look past Kylo’s features or stop being frightened by his powers long enough to know the man who built birdfeeders and drank hot chocolate and sat quietly while Hux braided his hair…

No, this was nothing as detached as pity. He felt sick and angry. He felt ready to barricade the castle and never let a soul, sorcerer or otherwise, anywhere near Kylo.

From his lap, Kylo made a low sound which drew Hux out of his reverie. Kylo’s brow was pinched, though his eyes remained closed. Then Hux realized how fiercely he was gripping his hair and quickly loosened his fingers, followed by a few apologetic strokes until Kylo relaxed again. He traced his fingers lightly over Kylo’s forehead and down his cheek, along the curve of his jaw. With a long sigh, he moved his hand to settle over Kylo’s heart. His mind raced. There had to be a way to break the curse.

You fix things.

Fix this.

*

This was bound to happen, Kylo thought dejectedly as he stared at the shut and locked library door.

Anyone stuck here with him long enough was bound to, well, not want to be. Even, it turned out, someone who he thought was like him. Different. Angry. Dissatisfied.

It appeared Hux had reached that point. The months of enjoying each other’s company were such a relief. He should have known it wouldn’t last.

Had he done something? Said something? Been too clingy?

Kylo wondered why Hux didn’t just leave. Did he know he could? Should Kylo tell him?

He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do that. The weather had been volatile as winter gave its final breaths, alternating between bitter cold, snow, and rain, broken up by the odd misleadingly sunny day. He couldn’t knowingly send Hux into it.

But he also couldn’t take another day of Hux barely speaking to him, dodging his attempts to be around him in favor of locking himself in the library. It had been five days already and Kylo’s mood had taken a turn for the worse; he couldn’t focus on his training, couldn’t sit still long enough to read. More than once he found himself pacing the hall outside the library before growing frustrated and stalking off somewhere to try, fruitlessly, to distract himself.

He thought often about breaking down the door, storming in and demanding to know what was wrong. Every time, his mind would supply the image of Hux pressed back against the wall, furious and tearful at Kylo’s violent outburst, and it was more than enough to dissuade him.

“You try talking to him,” he grumbled to Phasma one evening, “Maybe he’ll tell you what’s going on.”

“He hasn’t said a thing to me either,” Phasma said with a sigh. “I’m worried, too. But let’s be patient with him.”

Kylo reluctantly agreed.

But he’d never been a patient man, and by the next day he was just as irritated as ever.

In the middle of the afternoon he was taking yet another pace down the halls, when to his surprise he saw Hux slip into the library. Before the doors could shut completely he reached out with his powers and gave a tug on the knob, pulling it open a little and catching Hux’s attention.

“Wait,” he said pleadingly. Hux gave the door an irritated look, which he then turned on Kylo before shutting it.

When the lock clicked, he felt something in him snap. With an enraged yell he lashed out and drove his fist into the nearest thing to him: a tall wooden pedestal against the wall. Luckily, there was nothing on it. Unluckily, it was old and fragile and burst apart easily, sending fine slivers of wood into the skin of his hand.

He stood there panting, staring at the mess he’d made and barely registering the pain or the droplets of blood. The thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears was so loud that he didn’t notice the door unlock and creak open, or an alarmed Hux step out.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Hux’s voice cut through the low hum in his mind like a knife and he gasped. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Hux.

“Oh, so you’re speaking to me now?” he growled.

No, no, stupid, you’ll make him angry, he’ll go back in…

Hux didn’t go back in, but he returned the glare and stepped fully into the hall.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me all week!” Kylo exploded. He sounded petulant, he knew it, he hated it, but Hux was finally listening. “You haven’t been in the workshop, or – or had dinner with me or anything. You get up first thing in the morning and lock yourself in there until bedtime!”

“So?” Hux snapped. Now that Kylo could see him for the first time in days, he was startled to notice that Hux looked pallid and weary. Kylo became worried, and that only made him more frantic.

“So? Care to explain yourself?”

“No. It’s none of your business. Since I’m stuck here, I might as well do whatever I please!”

The words were like a punch in the gut. Stuck here. He may as well have said stuck here with you. Hurt and angry, Kylo stepped forward and shouted back, in spite of every ounce of his better judgment begging him not to make this worse.

“You are in my home using my library and you will tell me what you’re doing!”

“I’m trying to save you, you idiot!”

Hux was flushed, his posture tense, ready for a fight. But all the fight left Kylo as Hux’s words rang in his ears.

“What?” he whispered, blinking rapidly.

“I’m not stupid,” Hux spat, “I know you don’t have much time left and since you seem to have more or less given up on breaking the curse I thought maybe if I put my mind to it I could find something.” His shoulders slumped suddenly and he looked completely drained. “But you marked the books you’ve already been through and I’ve been going through the rest, and there’s…there’s nothing.”

Thick silence hung heavily between them. In the distance Kylo could hear one of the knights creaking around; outside the breeze whistled through the leafless branches. He was frozen, his eyes fixed on Hux’s defeated expression. He didn’t dare speak or move.

Then Hux’s eyes swept over him, lingered on something for a moment, and he was walking away, not back into the library but out into the main hall. Towards the front doors.

Kylo’s limbs felt heavy, his feet felt nailed to the ground. He opened his mouth and a strained “wait” fell out. He listened for the sound of the heavy doors creaking open. The sound of Hux giving up on him and leaving, like he always knew he would.

Instead he heard Hux’s soft steps fade away, then silence, and then slowly they returned until Hux was in the hall again, hovering hesitantly a few feet away. He was holding something but Kylo couldn’t focus enough to tell what it was.

Hux moved towards him calmly until he was close enough to gently tug his elbow.

“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly, “come on, let me have a look.”

Kylo wordlessly allowed Hux to lead him to the sitting room and maneuver him into the armchair. He sat heavily and watched Hux pull over a table to set down what he was carrying: a pair of tweezers, a bowl of water, a small jar, a scrap of cloth and a roll of bandages.

He expected Hux to pull over another chair but instead Hux settled himself sideways across Kylo’s legs and pulled his hand into his lap. He held it in one of his hands and with the other reached over for the tweezers.

Kylo flinched at the first tug, but after that he was still, watching as Hux worked on removing the splinters. Blood trickled down his hand onto Hux’s but Hux didn’t seem to mind, his face blank.

Hux’s slow, measured breathing as he concentrated calmed Kylo until he felt like he could finally think clearly. Then the shame and guilt set in.

“Hux?”

“Mm?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

Hux paused. He stroked his thumb lightly up and down Kylo’s hand.

“I’m sorry too,” he said finally.

“For what?”

“I was avoiding you. I didn’t want you to find out what I was doing, I thought you might try to stop me. But I…get too wrapped up in things. I didn’t realize just how much I was in there.”

“So you don’t…you aren’t…” You don’t hate me? You aren’t angry? Why was it so hard to say?

“What?”

Suddenly Kylo felt foolish for reacting so harshly, for not having more faith in Hux. If Hux wanted to leave, he would be long gone by now.

Kylo sat up and leaned forward until his forehead rested against Hux’s arm.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Hux didn’t say anything, but he turned his head for a moment to press his face into Kylo’s hair and it felt like he understood.

After a moment he resumed his work until, satisfied he’d removed every last splinter, he set down the tweezers. Then, gentle but efficient, he cleaned and dried Kylo’s hand, applied salve from the little jar, and snugly bandaged it. When he was finished he continued holding it and stroking over it gently with the tips of his fingers.

“Don’t do that again.” His tone was light but held no room for argument.

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that.”

Kylo chuckled.

Hux shifted and Kylo expected him to get up, already missing his warmth. But Hux just readjusted himself so that he was seated beside Kylo, wedged snugly between him and the arm of the chair. He leaned back with his head against Kylo’s shoulder.

For the first time in days, Kylo relaxed. He closed his eyes and focused on every point of contact between him and Hux: the brush of copper hair against his jaw, the weight of his body against his side, one slender hand still holding his bandaged one.

“What now?” Hux asked.

Kylo wished he had a reassuring answer, anything to offer Hux other than the dark cloud that hung over him. He hated to think Hux was blaming himself for being unable to fix this when it was Kylo’s mess to begin with.

But he couldn’t find the words to say any of this, so he laced their fingers together and squeezed, prepared to hold on for as long as Hux allowed him.

Chapter Text

“Has he brought it up again?”

“Trying to break the curse? No.”

“And you haven’t…?”

“Told him there is a way? No. You know I can’t.”

“I know.” Phasma sighed. “You can’t just…ask someone to love you.”

Kylo flinched at the word, love, knowing such a thing could never be for someone like him, and that it would be his undoing.

For there was another condition of the spell Kylo’s mother had cast, one that even she didn’t know of at the time. Kylo discovered it early on in his research, when he found the very spell she used in an old tome. It held no helpful information, other than this: to be broken, he must not only learn to care for another more than himself, but they must return that selfless love.

Kylo had considered, of course, that Hux could be the one to break the curse. There were two problems: Kylo didn’t know if he even could truly care for someone, and he was certain Hux held no such feelings for him. How could he?

Even so, he’d had something on his mind ever since he found out that Hux had tried to help him. Knowing he was running out of time strengthened his resolve. It was now or never.

“Phasma?”

“Yes?”

“You remember my parents, right?”

“Of course.”

“What sort of things did they do for each other?”

She moved closer to Kylo’s chair, tilting her head.

“Where are you going with this, sir?”

“Phasma.”

She was silent as she thought for a moment.

“Well, when they weren’t bickering…they tried to make each other feel special. Give gifts that appealed to each other’s interests. Your mother had that workshop set up just for your father, you know. And when he went away he’d bring her back things for her hair and little mementos from places he’d been. Things like that.”

Kylo listened intently, his brow furrowed. When she was finished he sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Phasma waited patiently. She knew by now he would either say what was on his mind or he wouldn’t, there was no pushing him.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“A dangerous habit for you, sir,” Phasma joked. Kylo’s lip curled in a halfhearted scowl before he continued.

“Anyway. I want to do something like that, something special. For Hux.”

“Well, you did promise you’d bring that old grandfather clock downstairs for him to tinker with.”

“A promise I don’t intend to keep,” Kylo said regretfully as he slumped back in his chair.

“No?”

“No. There isn’t time. He’ll be here soon.”

He. Snoke.  To collect his apprentice.

There were barely two and a half weeks left.

“I don’t want Hux here when that happens,” Kylo continued. “I’m going to let him leave. Or. Help him leave, I guess. Make sure he gets back to his village safely this time. But before that I want to do something for him. To thank him. Or apologize. Or both. It’s too late anyway, but I…”

He folded forward, hiding his face in his hands. Phasma stood beside him solemnly.

“I think that’s a good idea,” she finally said. “And…I think he’ll remember you more fondly than you realize. If it’s of any comfort to you.”

Kylo truly wanted to believe her.

*

A couple nights later, Hux was in his bedroom changing out of the shabby clothes he’d been wearing all day in the workshop when there was a light tap at the door. He finished dressing and opened it to find Phasma and a knight. He looked between them, waiting for an explanation.

“Dinner is almost ready, sir,” and as soon as she announced it, he was hit by the alluring scent of whatever was cooking downstairs. He hummed, pleased.

“And,” Phasma continued, motioning to the knight beside her, “Kylo has asked that you choose one of these to wear.”

Hux looked to the knight’s outstretched arms to find a folded pile of fine clothing. He frowned. Was it some sort of occasion? Kylo’s birthday, perhaps?

“Did he say why?”

“Hux,” Phasma said quietly, and Hux’s head shot up to look at her. She’d never called him by his name before. “You’ll see. Could you…please do this for him?”

She sounded sad.

Without another word, he took the offered clothes. Phasma nodded and left, followed by the knight.

Hux shut his door and spread the clothes out on his bed. There were two jackets, two waistcoats with matching cravats, a pair of black pants, a pair of shoes and a simple, soft white shirt. Laid out like this, he could see just how high quality they were. Certainly nicer than anything he’d ever owned, the sort of things worn to formal occasions by his classmates who were there because of their fathers’ money rather than merit. Kylo had once given him the choice to pick clothes from the other rooms in the castle, but Hux found the simple, utilitarian items that came with his room the most comfortable and most suited to his work.

He put on the pants and shirt and then considered the other items. One set of waistcoat and cravat was a rich red and, while the color was lovely, he imagined it next to his bright hair and thought better of it. The other was deep gold brocade, smooth and luxurious to the touch. He slipped the waistcoat on and fastened the cravat. Then he selected the longer of the two jackets, black with gold trim.

He combed his hair neatly and then, considering its length, decided to tie it back. Finally he slipped on his shoes, and stood to admire himself in the mirror.

He looked…good. Great. He never gave much thought to his looks; the gossiping villagers did enough of that for him. But tonight, he found it mattered. His stomach fluttered with anticipation, and he tried to convince himself that it was only because of whatever surprise awaited him downstairs, not at the thought of Kylo seeing him like this.

He made his way downstairs to the dining room, where the long table had been moved aside in favor of a smaller, more intimate one, set with the finest china and silverware and packed end to end with Hux’s favorite dishes.

He licked his lips, staring longingly at the display until a movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Kylo entered the room timidly. He’d traded in his tattered clothing for an outfit similar to Hux’s, tailored to fit his broad frame. It was, naturally, all black, but there were subtle bursts of dark red: the cravat, the lining of his coat, the cufflinks. His long hair was combed silky smooth and pulled loosely back into a ponytail. On one hand he wore a silver ring; Hux couldn’t tell from across the room, but he suspected it was engraved with a family crest.

Even with the storm cloud pallor of his skin and his inky black eyes, even with claws and pointed teeth, Kylo looked strikingly handsome.

Kylo stood tall but his hands fidgeting at his sides gave away his discomfort. When Hux’s wandering gaze met his eyes again he found them watching him intently. Awaiting judgment.

Hux smiled.

“You know, this is the first time since we met that you actually look like a prince.”

Kylo released his bated breath with a shaky laugh. His dark eyes roved over Hux and he tilted his head.

“You look good,” he stated bluntly. Hux’s face heated. “Finery suits you. You look like…royalty.”

Hux scoffed.

“Hardly. Dressed up or not, I’m still who I am.”

Kylo smiled crookedly, eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“Good.” He motioned with one hand. “Come sit?”

They sat across from each other. Kylo grinned upon seeing Hux's eyes light up at the array of foods. Hux caught him looking and wanted to ask, what is all this for? What's going on? But he remembered Phasma's words. You'll see.

"So this was the plan all along, then? Fatten me up so you can eat me?" He asked with a smirk.

Kylo chuckled.

"As good as I'm sure you'd taste, no, that's not the plan," Kylo said evenly, until the implication of his words caught up with him and his grin slipped into an almost comical look of horror.

Hux laughed and bit down into some bread to keep from saying anything equally ridiculous in response.

They made easy conversation as they ate, like usual. There was something different in the air between them, charged with possibility but weighed down by melancholy, like enjoying the last moments of sun before storm clouds rolled in. Kylo glanced at Hux more than usual and Hux only noticed because he looked up just as often. There was even wine, and Hux soon felt warm and flushed even though he’d only had one glass. He laughed freely and ate his fill; under the table his legs bumped Kylo’s, but he never once thought to move them away.

When they were done Hux expected they'd move to the sitting room for the evening, but Kylo had other plans. He stood, moved to stand near Hux and cleared his throat.

"There's something I'd like to show you."

Hux raised an eyebrow but wiped his mouth and stood. Kylo held his gaze a moment then cautiously held out his hand.

Do this for him, Phasma's voice whispered in his mind. Hux saw the tentative hope on Kylo's face and realized he didn't need her to ask that of him. He'd have done it anyway.

He took Kylo's hand, lacing their fingers together, and nodded.

Kylo led him through the castle and to the South tower, where they ascended the stairs. Hux had been up here once before in his explorations, finding little more than a dusty room full of covered furniture, and he wondered what more there could possibly be.

When they reached the room at the top, Kylo guided Hux to the far end and used his powers to move a table aside, unblocking a door Hux hadn't noticed the last time. He opened it to reveal another, narrower staircase.

"After you." He motioned upwards.

 “Since when are you such a gentleman?"

“I've always been a gentleman," Kylo replied with mock indignation.

"If you're a gentleman, I'm an army general."

Kylo snorted and tugged at Hux's hand again.

“Just get up there."

They stepped through the door at the top and onto the roof of the tower, which was open and flat, overlooking the grounds. Hux stopped short and tipped his head back to gawk at the sight above.

Thousands of stars glittered in the deep purple-black of the night sky, more than he’d ever seen in his life. The centerpiece of the stunning array was the shining sliver of a crescent moon.

“Do you like it?” Kylo’s voice came from several feet away. Hux tore his gaze away from the beautiful sight and found Kylo halfway across the roof, approaching something tall and covered with a cloth.

“What’s that?”

“Come see for yourself.”

Kylo removed the cloth and Hux hurried over.

“This…this is…”

“Yes.”

“A telescope!”

“Yes.”

“It’s been up here this whole time?”

“…yes.”

“Why didn’t you show me sooner?” Hux smacked Kylo’s arm lightly and he laughed.

“I’m sorry! I nearly forgot all about it.”

Hux shook his head and stepped closer to look through the eyepiece.

“Wow,” he breathed.

He took his time fiddling with the settings and angling it this way and that to look at as much as he could. Kylo stood beside him quietly and watched, and soon Hux began to feel like he was ignoring him, so he tugged Kylo closer so they could take turns.

“Do you know what any of it is called?”

“No,” Hux lamented, “I never had much opportunity to study astronomy. I found a few books in the library on it, but haven’t had a chance to…”

His heart sank as he was struck with the reminder that his time here had a cutoff. He shuddered and pressed closer to Kylo, who hesitantly placed a hand on the small of his back. The weight of it was comforting.

With his free hand, Kylo pointed the telescope a different way. He leaned close and with gentle fingers to Hux’s jaw he guided his head to look through it.

“I don’t know technical terms,” he said, his breath tickling the side of Hux’s face. “But I know stories that my mother used to tell, passed down from her mother. About the shapes formed when you connect the brightest stars and what they mean.”

Hux had never been one for stories and fairy tales, but he found himself interested in these ones. Or maybe he just wanted to hear Kylo talk.

“Would you tell me them?”

“Of course. Wait here.”

Kylo disappeared momentarily and returned with a stack of thick blankets. He spread out the largest one so they could lie on their backs; they wrapped up snugly in the rest. There was plenty of space on the blanket, but Hux shifted until he was pressed side-to-side with Kylo. Kylo put his arm around Hux’s shoulders and Hux leaned against him as they gazed up at the stars.

Quietly, Kylo told Hux the stories he remembered, reaching out with one hand to trace from star to star. Some of them Hux couldn’t quite understand – how was a crooked triangle supposed to resemble a goat? – but he hummed in acknowledgment anyway. The warmth between them and the sight above them and the soothing rumble of Kylo’s voice calmed his nerves and quieted his overactive mind. Hux let himself sink into the calm, safe feeling, if only for a little while.

When Kylo ran out of stories, Hux asked him what other things he’d learned as a child. Some things were similar to Hux’s own education: history, mathematics, writing. There were also some notable absences.

“Didn’t you have any sort of…I don’t know, social preparation? Etiquette, conversation, things like that?”

Kylo chuckled.

“I was supposed to. I, uh…strongly objected. Didn’t see the point.”

“That explains a lot,” Hux muttered, then scowled when Kylo mussed his hair in revenge.

“So you had to learn all that?” Kylo asked.

“Yes,” Hux sighed, “even upper class trivialities I knew I’d never use, like table place settings and dancing.”

“You can dance?”

“You can’t?” Hux turned onto his side to look at Kylo. “You’re a prince.”

Kylo shrugged, chewing on his bottom lip and averting his eyes.

“Like I said. Didn’t see the point.”

Hux watched him. The cold anxiety crept back into him as he thought of all the things Kylo might never have a chance to do.

“Would you like to learn?” He blurted out.

Kylo looked up at him, starlight reflected in his eyes.

“Okay.”

*

Kylo didn’t care one bit about dancing. He’d never cared to learn as an adolescent and certainly didn’t have a reason to now.

He did, however, care about the way the light of the chandelier in the castle’s seldom-used ballroom cast Hux in warm gold. He cared quite a lot about how well the borrowed clothing Hux wore, though rumpled from their stargazing, fit his tall, narrow frame so perfectly and made him look positively regal. Hux truly was meant for more than a life wasting away in some village. Or some castle.

Hux stepped close to Kylo. His expression was soft but reserved, like he was holding something back. Kylo could relate; he told Hux a lot, shared his darkest secrets, but even now he couldn’t give all of himself over. Not knowing what awaited him.

Kylo let Hux position them: one of Kylo’s hands on Hux’s waist, where it seemed to fit perfectly, Hux’s hand on his shoulder, their other hands clasped out to the side. There was no music, but Hux had insisted it would only be a distraction.

“Ready?” Hux asked. Kylo nodded.

They began to move, Hux guiding him in a simple box step. He counted softly: one, two, three. Kylo watched their feet and tried his best to follow Hux’s movements. He stumbled more than once and embarrassment warmed his cheeks but Hux only paused and waited for him to regain his footing before starting again. Soon he began to get the hang of it, and when he was able to make a few repetitions without looking down he beamed at Hux, for once uncaring about his crooked smile.

“Good, very good,” Hux told him, and when he smiled back Kylo felt warm to the tips of his ears.

Before he knew what he was doing he pulled Hux in until they were flush against each other, his arm firm around Hux’s waist. Hux went willingly, sliding his hand to rest on Kylo’s back. His nose bumped against Kylo’s cheek and when a shiver ran through him, Kylo feared he’d pull away. Instead, Hux took a slow, deep breath and pressed even closer, dipping his face into Kylo’s neck. His palm pressed firmly, almost possessively between Kylo’s shoulder blades. It was like an embrace, his first in so long. Something welled up inside his chest and he clamped his jaw firmly shut to keep it from pouring out of him.

They didn’t move for a moment. Kylo felt the tickle of Hux’s lashes against his neck as he blinked. There was something strange about his breathing, slow and deliberate and shaky on the exhales. Concerned, he pressed his cheek against the side of Hux’s head and whispered, “what’s this step called?”

Hux’s sudden, shuddering laugh was music to his ears. He smiled when Hux swatted him playfully and lifted their hands again, squeezing firmly. He didn’t, however, pull his face away from Kylo’s neck. Kylo tipped his head closer to nuzzle against his soft, bright hair.

“Let’s start again,” Hux said, voice strained. He started to move but they were too close and Kylo too inexperienced. Their legs tangled together and they lost footing. At the last second, Kylo shifted his weight so that he fell backwards with Hux on top and not the other way around. With a gasp and a curse from Hux they tumbled to the ground, Kylo on his back and Hux sprawled on top of him.

“That was my fault,” Hux muttered, using Kylo’s chest to push himself up a little. “Are you alright?”

Kylo just groaned in response, eyes closed. He wasn’t hurt, but the impact had knocked the wind out of him.

“Oh no,” came Hux’s voice from above him, concerned and just a bit scolding, “did you hit your head?” His careful hands slid into Kylo’s hair, cupping the back of his head and lifting it up a bit to feel over his scalp for a bump. Kylo opened his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he panted. It was only sort of true. He knew he’d catch his breath in a moment; he also knew once Hux pulled away he might never breathe right again.

Leaning over him, Hux was framed in gold by the candlelight from above. Strands of his fiery hair had slipped loose and Kylo slowly lifted his hands to push them behind his ears. Hux’s bright eyes, a color so unique to him that Kylo had nothing to compare them to, swept over Kylo’s face with the analytic interest he might give one of his projects. Kylo had seen those eyes widened in fear and narrowed in anger and sharp with focus and scrunched up with delight. Now, they gazed at him so, so tenderly. Of all Hux’s many expressions, this was the one he wished to remember the most, and so he looked his fill while he had the chance.

Hux lifted one hand and trailed searching fingers over his face, starting just above his eyebrow, down across the bridge of his nose to his cheek, across his cheek to the edge of his jaw, then back up in a seemingly random pattern. He did it again, and again, until Kylo realized: he was connecting the most prominent of the dark moles on his face in a shape. Like a constellation.

Then Hux stopped his gentle tracing and slid his hand back through Kylo’s hair. He leaned down closer, so close that his features blurred and Kylo could feel soft puffs of breath against his face. For several long moments Kylo barely breathed.

Reality crashed back down on him like a cruel gust of cold wind. He couldn’t have this, no matter how much he wanted it.

He’d kept Hux here long enough. If there was any chance of him breaking the curse, surely it would have happened by now. Looking up at him, he was certain: Hux deserved better. What could a selfish, cursed man like Kylo possibly offer him? No, it was time he stopped dragging others down.

Hux made a surprised little sound as Kylo sat up slowly. He kept his hands on Hux’s shoulders to steady him so he didn’t fall off, but also to ease him away before he did something they’d both regret.

“Sorry,” Hux said quickly, “I- that was-“

“It’s okay,” Kylo interrupted. “I just- how about dessert?”

Hux blinked at him.

“Oh…okay. Sure. In that case, I have a request.”

“Anything.”

Hux looked at him oddly for a moment, like he might just test what anything entailed, then looked sheepishly down at Kylo’s chest, his hands fiddling with the buttons on his jacket.

“Hot chocolate?”

*

They settled down in the sitting room with their hot chocolate and everything about it would have been perfect – the fire, the sweet warm drink, Hux’s company – if it weren’t for what he had to do next.

“Hux,” he began quietly. He immediately felt Hux’s piercing gaze on him, but he kept his own eyes fixed resolutely on his cup. “Are you…happy here?”

“Yes,” Hux said, with no sign of hesitation. Surprised, Kylo looked up and their eyes met.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Hux repeated, frowning now. “Why? Don’t I seem happy?”

“No- I mean, yes. I mean. Is there…anything else you might want? Something missing?”

Hux considered the question for a moment. His lips turned up in a wistful little smile and he shrugged.

“It’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t!”

“It’s- I miss my cat, okay?”

Kylo smiled fondly at the mention of his cat. He knew that he’d lost her in the woods, and that he worried for her more than he thought he let on.

“She just means a lot to me,” Hux continued quickly. “I found her when she was just a kitten, when my father and I started moving around, and she was the only companion I had and I – I don’t even know if she’s alive…”

“Hux.”

Kylo put a hand on his leg to calm him.

“It’s not silly. You were alone, and you found companionship. That’s not silly at all.”

He knew that firsthand.

Hux looked briefly relieved before his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Why are you asking about this?”

Kylo took a long sip of his drink before speaking again.

“I think you should…try to find her.”

There was a tense silence as Hux waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, Hux set his drink aside and turned to face him fully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you should go. And. Look for her.” Kylo looked away to escape the sudden fierceness of Hux’s stare.

“Are you kicking me out?”

“Wouldn’t freeing you be the better way of putting it?”

Hux scoffed.

“Please. I could have left ages ago, we both know that.” Then his voice softened. “What is this really about, Kylo?”

“You just said you missed her! I just thought if there was anything that would make you happier here, you should have it. That’s all.”

“You thought you could make me happier here by sending me away from here?”

“No! Yes? I don’t know!” Kylo growled. He was trying to do the right thing for once in his godforsaken life and of course Hux had to be difficult. “Why can’t you do what I say, just once?”

“Because I’m not one of your magic tea kettles or – or one of your knights! If I leave that is my choice!”

“Did you forget that this is my castle?”

Hux opened his mouth and Kylo braced himself for whatever biting remark he would surely have in response to that. He deserved it, he knew, for picking a fight, for trying to tell Hux what to do. Fighting wasn’t at all what he’d intended. He didn’t want this to be their last memory of each other.

But something seemed to click in Hux’s mind and his face moved quickly from furious to comprehending, and then, inexplicably, frightened.

“He’s coming back soon, isn’t he,” Hux whispered, cautious as though someone might overhear them.

“N-no,” Kylo began.

“Don’t lie to me,” Hux practically hissed. He grasped Kylo’s arm firmly with one hand. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Kylo cursed himself for bothering to try to trick Hux. He nodded, his eyes still downcast.

Hux’s grip loosened and his hand slid down to grasp Kylo’s. Another kindness he didn’t deserve.

“When?”

“Two weeks,” Kylo answered, “ten years from the day he cursed us.”

“Two weeks? Then why send me away now?”

Kylo shrugged and smiled a little in spite of the tightness building in his chest.

“I assumed – correctly, by the way – that you’d be stubborn about it.” Hux glared at him. “I wanted to leave time for you to get far enough away.”

“What if I don’t want to get far away? What if I want to give this so-called all-powerful bastard a piece of my – “

“No,” Kylo snapped, squeezing Hux’s hand. “He’s dangerous. He didn’t think twice about transforming everyone here and he wouldn’t think twice about doing the same, or worse, to you. Especially if you were in his way.”

Hux frowned but for once didn’t argue. He hooked both of his arms around Kylo’s like a child holding onto a doll, rested his head on his shoulder and was silent for a while. Thinking. He always thought loudly, if such a thing were possible; sometimes Kylo swore he could hear the wheels turning.

Before Hux spoke again, Kylo had an idea.

“I can find out where she is,” he said quietly. Hux didn’t move but looked up at him through his pale lashes. “Your cat. If you have even single hair of hers, I can use it to find her. Alive or…otherwise. With my magic. It’s a trick I’ve used a few times to, um. Check up on my mother. Make sure she’s still out there somewhere.” This last bit he admitted with no small amount of embarrassment, remembering how he’d foolishly told Hux his parents meant nothing to him. He doubted Hux believed him but even so, the lie had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Hux didn’t comment on it, though. He seemed more interested in the spell Kylo was proposing.

“You can do that? Then what?”

“Then…you go get her, bring her here.” Kylo was making this up as he went, hoping Hux would accept the plan. “And stay until…the day before he arrives. I think that’s reasonable.”

Hux considered this.

“Why wouldn’t I just wait until then and then go and find her and return to the village?”

“Hux, you don’t really want to return there, do you?” Hux’s dreams were too big for that small town. Kylo hoped, if nothing else, he could convince him of that.

Hux shook his head.

“Then don’t. Get her, come back. I’ll show you how to get from here to the town on the other side of the woods, where you were trying to go all along. I’ll…I’ll give you some money, food, clothes, anything you need. Go do what you were always meant to do, Hux. And forget about me.”

Hux’s head shot up, eyes blazing. Kylo had never seen so much raw emotion on his face.

“Not that. All the rest, fine. But don’t you dare ask me to do that.”

A lump formed, sharp and painful in Kylo’s throat and he tried to swallow around it, his heart hurting and eyes stinging. He squeezed Hux’s hand again, overwhelmed with gratitude for him.

Gratitude wasn’t quite the right word, or it wasn’t the only one. But it was too late for whatever other words there might have been.

“So you’ll do it? You’ll go?”

“If she isn’t far, and the weather is good, I could go and be back in a day…”

“Please,” Kylo pleaded.

“Fine.” Hux relented. “But I’m coming back. Don’t try to stop me.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise me,” Hux demanded.

“I…promise. I won’t try to stop you. But you have to promise to leave when it’s time!”

Hux took a deep breath but he nodded.

“I promise.”

It was late, and Kylo thought Hux might go up to his room to pack. Instead Hux removed his shoes and jacket, loosened the cravat and undid the buttons on his vest. Kylo’s face burned, until he realized, feeling foolish, that Hux was merely getting more comfortable. He mirrored Hux’s actions, removing his shoes and peeling off the outer layers.

Hux looked at him for a moment, sad and hesitant. Kylo wished that he could read his thoughts and know what that look meant. Then, Hux stretched out on the couch and pulled at Kylo until he surrendered and did the same. He ended up curled awkwardly on his side with his head on Hux’s chest. They barely fit on the couch; neither of them cared.

“Tonight was lovely,” Hux whispered. “No one has ever done something like that for me. Thank you.”

Kylo closed his eyes and breathed in, out. He nuzzled his face into the soft shirt, the only thing between his cheek and Hux’s warm skin.

“I’m glad you liked it. Thank you for teaching me how to dance.”

Above him Hux hummed; Kylo felt the slight rumble of it in Hux’s chest. “I barely taught you a step…”

Kylo chuckled. “Thank you for trying to teach me.”

After that they were silent. Kylo wanted to scold himself. What was the point in indulging in this fantasy when by this time tomorrow Hux would be gone? But the moment Hux’s clever fingers sunk into his hair there was no resisting. He sighed and let the steady stroking soothe his anxious heart.

Chapter Text

Hux woke with a start. The first thing he registered was that he was cold, though he was covered in blankets and had socks on his feet. The second was that he was in his own room in the castle, not on the sofa where he remembered falling asleep. Kylo had brought him here again and it was thoughtful of him, but Hux would have rather stayed in the sitting room and woken with Kylo’s hair still between his fingers, even if it would have meant a stiff neck from spending the night on the couch.

For a moment, he simply lay there with his eyes closed and thought back to the night before. To stargazing and dancing and hot chocolate by the fire. To a Kylo who was more open, more warm than he’d ever seen him in their months here together, yet still, always, holding something back. And then, inevitably, to their agreement: that Hux would leave and come back. He wondered, with the clarity a night’s sleep brings, whether it was a mistake. But it was pointless to consider that now. A promise was a promise.

He sat up slowly, feeling groggy and numb, and looked outside. He foolishly hoped there would be a blizzard, or freezing rain, something to keep him here just a little longer. Instead it was insultingly sunny and clear.

Hux got up, stubbornly fighting past the cold dread in the pit of his stomach. He’d be gone two days at most. He’d be back. He’d see Kylo again. He repeated this to himself like a mantra as he went through the routine motions of getting ready, washing his face, combing his hair, changing out of the rumpled clothes from the night before into clean ones. Then he pulled out the bag he’d been carrying the day he arrived here, tucked away and forgotten at the bottom of the wardrobe, and set it on the bed to pack.

Pack what?

Only one set of clothes actually belonged to him and he was wearing them. He’d nearly forgotten, over the months, how little he truly had. He would have even less, soon.

He shook his head and pushed the thought away. He put the few things he’d brought with him into the bag and shut it.

Slipping the strap over his shoulder, he turned and looked around the room. His room, or it had felt like it for a while. Something else that was never really his. His chest felt tight. This felt too much like moving to a new town again as soon as he’d grown comfortable somewhere, only different, worse. He wasn’t just leaving somewhere but someone.

With one last glance around he turned and walked swiftly from the room. He could smell breakfast and though he felt too anxious to eat, he was glad for the excuse to prolong his departure.

Kylo was already at the dining room table, food spread out in front of him. When Hux entered quietly he looked up and smiled, but Hux knew him well enough by now to see through it.

“I thought it would be best if you had a good meal before…” Kylo cleared his throat and didn’t finish the thought. “And we still have to do the spell.”

That was right. Hux didn’t even know where he was going yet; Millie could be anywhere by now. It might not be a simple trip into town and back, she could be deep in the woods. Or worse, she might not be alive at all, and then he’d stay two more weeks but have to leave Kylo anyway, without even his one companion to return to…

A firm but gentle hand took his arm and guided him to a chair; a plate full of food was set before him. It wasn’t until something cold pressed to his forehead that the world came back into focus and he realized he was sitting down. The cold thing was the back of Kylo’s hand and Kylo was peering down at him with concern.

“You got very pale…”

“I’m always pale.”

“Hux.”

“Sorry. I’m just…hungry.”

Despite his words, Hux was only able to pick at his food. He felt Kylo’s eyes on him but he couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t stand to see his worry. Why would Kylo bother worrying about me now, Hux thought with a hint of bitterness. Soon Hux would be on his own again without anyone to worry about him or fuss over him. He shouldn’t have gotten used to it. Foolish. Soon he would be alone again, like always. He’d better get used to the idea.

Hux pushed his plate away and stood, still not meeting Kylo’s eyes.

“Let’s get this over with.”

He strode out of the room, waiting for the rustle of Kylo’s robes as he followed, but was met with silence. He stopped in the doorway to turn and finally look at Kylo.

Perhaps he’d been better off not looking.

Kylo hadn’t moved from his seat. His face, open and honest as ever, held a hint of that dark anger Hux had only seen a handful of times but not enough to drown out the mix of misery and shame, like a scolded child with no more fight left in him.

Oh. Oh, no.

Hux had been so wrapped up in his own concerns that he hadn’t thought of how frightened Kylo must be right now. Hux was one of the last things Kylo had left, just like Millicent was the last thing Hux had, and here he was pushing him away, snapping at him as if he’d done something wrong. Being exactly the sort of man the people in town thought they knew, the one slowly becoming as embittered as his father, not the one Kylo had come to know, the one Kylo had allowed him to be.

He moved to stand in front of Kylo and slid a hand into his hair. With a little pressure he tipped his head back so that Kylo would look at him and see that Hux wasn’t angry. Kylo blinked up at him, emotions warring on his face, before he spoke.

“You are coming back. Aren’t you?”

The last of Hux’s willpower melted away. He couldn’t push Kylo away like this, not when they had so little time left.

“Yes,” he reassured him. “I am.” He tugged again and Kylo stood, looking like he’d be lost without Hux’s guiding hand. “The sooner we do this, the sooner I can come back. Alright?”

Kylo nodded. As Hux drew his hand away Kylo caught it in his own which, Hux noted, was shaking. Hux couldn’t manage any comforting words, or even a smile, so he held firm and led Kylo away.

The inside of Hux’s bag had more than enough stray hairs Millicent had left behind, and so they used one for Kylo to perform his spell. To Hux’s relief, she was not only alive, but had made her way back to his village.

“She’s near the center of town,” Kylo told him, “I’m sorry, that’s as close as I can tell…”

“That’s alright,” Hux said. “That’s more than enough.” It narrowed her whereabouts down significantly, and it meant that hopefully she wasn’t at his father’s house, which was on the outskirts of town. He could work with that, could find her and possibly even avoid running into his father at all.

The news made him feel a little better, and the brief burst of optimism lasted as he put on his boots and retrieved his bag. Knowing Millie was alright made the actions feel easier, the weight of worry lifted from his shoulders.

“Aren’t you taking anything with you?” Kylo asked, looking at his sparsely packed bag.

“Of course I am. This was all I had when I got here.”

Kylo frowned and took the bag from Hux’s loose grip.

“Stay here.”

Kylo disappeared and Hux huffed. Cryptic as ever.

With a pang, Hux realized he’d miss that.

The moment he’d disappeared, familiar heavy footsteps approached from the other side of the room. Hux turned to see Phasma approaching, the knights lined up at attention by the wall behind her. He hadn’t even noticed them there.

“Sir.” Phasma greeted.

“You don’t have to call me that, you know,” Hux replied with a grin. “Hux will do. We are-“ What were they, anyway? What was he to any of them? “-friends, after all,” he settled on.

“I suppose we are.” Though Phasma couldn’t smile, there was warmth in her voice. “You are coming back. Right?”

“Of course I am,” Hux scoffed. “You both keep asking me that. Don’t you trust me?”

“We do,” she assured him. “It’s just, I-“

“You’re worried about him.”

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

They were silent for a moment, Hux fidgeting and Phasma still as a statue. Then she spoke again, quietly.

“The knights and I are grateful to you. We’ll miss the regular oiling and buffing. It’s been a lot easier to move since you arrived.” She tilted her helmet towards the doorway Kylo had disappeared through. “For all of us.”

Hux swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. For once he found himself at a loss for words.

At the sound of Kylo’s returning footsteps, Phasma took a step back. She dipped at the waist in a partial bow, and the knights all mimicked the motion. Then she straightened and left, motioning for the knights to follow. The echoing clank as the last one stepped from the room felt too final, the silence that followed too heavy.

Kylo swept in a moment later, carrying Hux’s now-stuffed bag in one hand and something draped over the other arm. He stepped right up to Hux and looped the strap of the bag over Hux’s shoulder, letting it hang on his opposite hip.

Hux tested the weight of it and frowned.

“What’s all this?”

“Food. Gloves and a hat. Extra socks. Matches. A knife. Some money. Is the currency still- nevermind, doesn’t matter, it’s the only kind I have. Oh, and that book you started the other night.”

Hux raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll be gone two days, at most, Kylo…”

“I know,” Kylo interrupted. He was shifting nervously; he hadn’t stepped away from Hux and Hux could see every twitch of his expression. He opened his mouth and before he could needlessly justify himself, Hux steadied Kylo’s hands with his own and gripped them tightly.

“Thank you,” he said. Kylo relaxed a little. Hux nodded to the black lump of cloth over Kylo’s arm. “And that?”

“Oh. Yes, I…want you to have this. I placed some protection charms on it. It’s lightweight but it will keep you warm, and you can-“

“If you say I can use it to remember you by, I swear…”

Kylo’s mouth snapped shut and he grinned sheepishly. Hux’s chest tightened at the sight; he’d miss that crooked, disarmingly sweet smile.

“Here.” Kylo was moving, a blur of gray and black as he swung the cloak open in one fluid motion and draped it around Hux. He fastened the cloak around his shoulders. To Hux’s relief, he didn’t pull away immediately; instead, he slowly lifted his hands to smooth Hux’s hair down. The lump in Hux’s throat had started as a pebble but was rapidly growing into a boulder. It was all too much. The gift of the cloak, the careful touches, the concern. Like Hux was valuable, worth protecting.

“Thank you,” he managed, staring at Kylo’s chest. One of Kylo’s hands slid along his jaw and gently took Hux’s chin to tilt his face up. His eyes roamed over him and Hux hoped fruitlessly that he’d change his mind and demand that he stay. But Kylo let go and stepped back reluctantly. He lifted his other hand to hold something up; Hux hadn’t even noticed he was holding anything.

Blinking away the sudden moisture in his eyes, Hux looked at the offered item. It was a bronze compass on a long chain, clearly both well-made and well-used.

“A compass? I don’t need that, I know how to get back to the…what’s that look for!” He became indignant upon catching Kylo’s raised eyebrow.

“You did end up here didn’t you? Instead of the other village?”

“It’s lucky I did,” Hux snapped back. “Did you even see how hard it was raining that day?”

One corner Kylo’s mouth curved up a little.

“Lucky. Hm.”

He lifted Hux’s hand and pressed the compass into it.

“Southwest to the village. Northeast back. Or-“ Kylo hesitated, then seemed to gather his resolve. “Or if you go straight from your village to the one on the other side of the woods: east, then when you reach the river, south to the bridge.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hux said, taking the compass and tucking it into his pocket. “I’m coming back. That’s the plan.”

Kylo exhaled slowly and nodded.

Suddenly Hux realized there was nothing more to prepare, no more prolonging it, nothing left but to turn and go. Yet his feet felt nailed to the floor, his eyes fixed on Kylo’s face, which was suspiciously blank. Heavy silence hung between them.

“I…I wish…” Hux swallowed. “I wish I had something to give you in return. To-“

“If you say to remember me by,” Kylo mumbled, echoing Hux’s words with a sad smile. Hux gave a breathy laugh.

“I was going to say to thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for. If anything, I should thank you. I-“ Kylo stopped, looking frustrated. He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when you get back.”

Hux nodded, curious but not wanting to push him. He took a step back, started to turn towards the door.

“H-Hux.” Kylo’s shaky voice was barely a whisper. Hux’s whipped his head around to look at him again, to find him leaning as if about to step forward, one hand outstretched. Then the false calm dropped from Kylo’s features and it was all there, plain as day, all his sadness, all his fear, and something else Hux couldn’t define. All of him barely held together by sheer force of will, a building on the verge of collapse.

Hux cursed under his breath and moved before his brain had time to catch up. He pulled Kylo to him in a tight embrace, chest to chest, arms wrapping around his torso in a near-crushing grip. He pressed his face into Kylo’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

He thought Kylo would be hesitant, but his arms flew up to hold Hux as though he’d just been waiting for the excuse. His grip was fierce but not painful. Pressed so close, Hux could feel every tremor. He squeezed tighter.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, voice thick. “I’m coming back. It’s going to be okay. Don’t be afraid.”

He’d never been good at reassurances, his words always a sharp, blunt tool, but now, for Kylo, the words of comfort came as easily as breathing.

Kylo’s breath hitched as he nodded into Hux’s shoulder. Hux hoped he wasn’t crying; if he was, he might never leave. He might just follow Kylo into whatever abyss awaited him, cursed or not.

They held each other until, slowly, Kylo slid his hands to grasp Hux’s shoulders and pull back enough to look at him. His eyes were sad but held no tears, and he seemed calmer.

“Go.” His voice didn’t shake. “And be safe.”

“I’ll be back,” Hux said one more time for good measure.

“I’ll be waiting,” Kylo promised.

Hux stared at Kylo’s face a moment longer, as if memorizing his features. As if he could ever forget them. Then he turned and walked out the door, as quickly as he’d slipped in on a rainy night so many months ago.

*

It took considerable effort for Hux to keep putting one foot in front of the other, swiftly moving forward. His heart ached with every step. He waited until he’d been walking at least ten minutes before even daring to look back; by then, the castle was no longer in sight.

Half an hour passed. He stopped and nearly turned back twice. All he could think of was Kylo’s frightened face. Was he making a mistake? Should he go back? Millicent had been fine this long, what was another two weeks? Would Kylo be angry if he did? What if Kylo had lied and the sorcerer returned that very day? Hux didn’t think that last scenario was likely, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.

In the end he kept pressing forward, because that was the plan, what he’d promised Kylo. He would find Millicent, bring her back with him, and stay until Kylo forced him out. He refused to think about anything beyond that.

Though it wasn’t very cold, he pulled the cloak tight around himself. It smelled comforting, like burning wood and lightly scented soap. Like Kylo.

As he walked he thought back on their time together, the nearly six months he’d spent there. He didn’t dwell long on the first few weeks, the bad ones. It felt like those had happened to two entirely different people than the ones who had spent last night side by side under the stars.

He replayed that night over and over in his mind. Each time the memory ended with him sprawled atop Kylo in the ballroom, looking down into his eyes, leaning forward…then it would reset, before Kylo pulled away, and before the conversation that had led him here. A pang of regret accompanied the memory, but when he tried to imagine what he could have done differently, his mind grasped for an answer that was just out of reach, and it only frustrated him.

Reminiscing made the longing in him grow and grow, but it also made the journey pass quickly. It was high noon by the time he neared the village. He could make out rooftops through the leafless trees and soon saw the road leading into town. He stopped, then, just at the edge of the woods, and stared at the once familiar place, which now looked foreign and unwelcoming.

Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to him he’d have to walk those same streets he walked before, only now as a very different man. Or that he’d have to bear the stares and whispers, which would surely be tenfold now that he was returning from being gone so long. He could only imagine the insidious gossip when he first disappeared. They probably thought he’d run away. In a way, he supposed he had.

He slipped the compass back into his bag. While he had the bag open, he took a moment to run his hand over its contents, the things Kylo had so thoughtfully packed. With a heavy sigh, he shut it, reminding himself that the sooner he retrieved Millicent, the sooner he could return. In fact, if he was quick, he could go back today…

That thought was what finally pushed him forward. He pressed the cloak to his face one more time, breathing in the familiar scent to bolster him, and walked briskly down the path.

The moment his feet crossed the border of the village, he was hit by a wave of dizziness. He stumbled with a gasp, covering his eyes and trying to steady himself. It was gone as quickly as it had come and he looked up, blinking in the bright light. His eyes swept over the village, then behind him into the woods, then to the village again.

“That’s odd,” he muttered aloud to himself. “Why was I out here?” He felt something heavy bundled around his neck and shoulders; he lifted it to examine the frayed black fabric. “What’s this?”

Amidst his growing confusion he felt the distinct feeling of something being missing. He immediately looked down and, when he was not met with the sight of his cat’s ginger fur by his feet, began to panic.

“Millicent? Where are you? What the hell is going on…” He turned in a circle, eyes darting around, searching, and caught a glimpse of something copper out of the corner of his eye. Not Millicent, but his own hair. He stopped abruptly and reached a hand up to feel it. He held the strands out in front of his face and let them slip through his fingers, staring wide-eyed.

“…and how did my hair get so long?”

Chapter Text

The walk through town was nothing short of surreal. The villagers stared at him and muttered amongst themselves, as they always had, except now they looked at him as though he was a ghost. Some even stepped away. Still dazed, he tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the growing number of inconsistencies between his surroundings and his memory.

There was his hair, now falling down his neck, when he’d only ever worn it short. There was the melting snow creating puddles along the side of the road, and the smell of wet leaves beneath, the way it smelled just before spring, but last he remembered the trees had just begun to change for the fall. There was the cloak he was wearing, which he’d never seen before, and which…

He stopped suddenly and stepped aside against a shop wall, away from prying eyes. He lifted the cloth up and pressed the dark, worn fabric to his face. His eyes fluttered shut. It smelled like burning wood and the nice soaps sold in one of the shops. It was familiar. Comforting.

Why?

He shuddered and opened his eyes again. To his right, a path twisted past the last shops at the center of town and out towards the small homes where the mill workers lived. Where his father lived. Home.

No, he thought, not home. It seemed like a place from the past, somewhere he had once lived but no longer did, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

He turned to look ahead, where the main road continued to more shops, and a thought occurred to him that gave him some small glimmer of hope: Maz’s store was that way. Maybe she’d have some answers. If nothing else, he’d rather be there than anywhere else while he sorted this out.

Hux steeled himself and kept walking, diligently ignoring the stares and whispers. He even shot a few sneers at people as he went by, and felt a twisted sort of pleasure at the sight that must make, with his long, windblown red hair and strange dark cloak with fraying edges.

As he approached the building he realized that he didn’t even know what day of the week it was; what if the store wasn’t open? But the door was unlocked and the little bell jingled as he entered. It was, blessedly, empty of shoppers. Maz was nowhere to be seen either, but he could hear shuffling from her apartment above.

He hoped that the familiarity of the shop would calm his nerves, but as soon as he started looking around he found the place entirely reorganized, stocked with things he’d never seen before. For one terrible moment he feared something had happened to Maz and that the shop was under new ownership.

He was so lost in the thought he nearly jumped out of his skin when a muffled voice called from upstairs.

“I’ll be right down!”

Hux sagged with relief. It was then that he caught a glimpse of a bright blur moving down the staircase. He stepped closer and then let out a gasp as he realized what it was.

“Millicent!”

It felt like ages since he’d seen her, though he could swear he remembered being with her just that morning. The memory felt far away.

He crouched down, one hand extended, and she trotted towards him but stopped short, appraising him warily. His heart sank.

“Millie?”

If he had doubted something was wrong before, now he was sure of it. She’d never done this before, not to him. Eventually, she came close enough to sniff at his fingers and then, finally, allowed him to pet her. He stroked down her back and scratched behind her ears just the way she liked, and she relaxed, but he was shaken. Why had she reacted that way? Why was she here in the first place?

Petting Millicent calmed him until the creak of the stairs caught his attention. Maz was making her way down, muttering to herself as she often did, when she saw him and froze on the last step. Hux opened his mouth to greet her when he caught the look on her face.

She stared at him the way the villagers had, like he had returned from the dead. Hux stood and cleared his throat, his gaze locked on hers like he was willing her to trust it was really him. Just as he was about to ask if he should leave, she sprung, alarmingly quick for her age. Before he knew it her arms were locked around his waist in a fierce grip.

Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any stranger.

He awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her back. She gave one more squeeze before pulling away to look him over. He almost smiled as she scrutinized his long hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“What happened?” they asked at the same time.

She gaped at him.

“What happened? I thought you were dead, you stupid boy! When you didn’t come by for a few days I thought you’d left town, but when she showed up,” she motioned to Millicent, “I knew something had to be wrong. You wouldn’t go anywhere without her. I kept her here in case you came back; I wouldn’t trust her to that no-good father of yours…”

“Kept her here since…when? How long has it been?”

“How long? You’ve been gone…why, you’ve been gone nearly six months!”

It felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath Hux’s feet. He looked around dizzily until he spotted a chair against the wall and stumbled over to drop into it.

“Six months?”

Looking concerned, Maz pulled another chair over and sat across from him.

“I don’t…” He clutched the edge of the cloak he was wearing. “I don’t…remember anything. Not after a certain point, anyway.”

She took a deep breath and then peered at him through her round glasses.

“First things first. Are you alright?”

Hux wasn’t sure there was a simple answer to that.

“I- yes? Physically, yes. I feel fine. I just have no idea what’s going on.”

Her gaze flickered over his face. “You look well. Better, even.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I thought a strong enough breeze would blow you away,” she said. She ignored his unamused look and continued. “You’re still thin but…you’ve filled out a bit, haven’t you? And some color in your cheeks. You look like you’ve been eating and sleeping for a change.”

“Thanks,” Hux deadpanned.

“So…what do you remember?”

“It was…the beginning of autumn. I-“ Hux looked up at her suddenly. “There’s a large town on the other side of the woods. You can take the main roads to it, but through the woods would be quicker. I – went there? I think?”

“Do you remember the town?”

“No…just the woods.”

“What do you remember about the woods?”

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose and thought hard.

“It…rained.”

“And then?”

“That’s it.” He was sure of it as soon as he said it. “That’s the last thing I remember.”

Maz looked as though she wanted to ask more, but thought better of it. Instead, she stood and pushed the chair aside.

“What matters is that you’re alright. Perhaps the rest will come back to you.”

He nodded slowly, not sure if he really believed her.

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“No.”

“Then you should rest.”

Hux scoffed. “It’s barely past noon.”

Maz shook her head. “Suit yourself.” She patted his arm as she walked past and began moving around the shop, fussing with things, cleaning, rearranging.

Hux didn’t feel ready to stand yet, so he watched her quietly. Then something else occurred to him.

“Maz?”

“Yes?”

“Is my father…still here?” Hux wouldn’t put it past the man to move on without him, or to get kicked out of town without Hux there to keep him out of trouble.

“Unfortunately,” Maz grumbled. She paused in polishing a mirror to glance at him and, taking in his expression, her tone softened. “He did come by. Once. He asked – well, demanded – to know where you were. He was half drunk so when I told him I didn’t know, I don’t think he believed me. But he did ask.”

“Oh.”

Hux continued stroking Millie and watching Maz.

“Could I stay here for a little while?” He asked hesitantly after a moment. He wasn’t ready to face anyone, least of all his father, just yet.

“There’s a spare room, and a cot you can use,” Maz replied, not so much as glancing up from what she was doing. “It’s not much, but…”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

*

That night, Hux sat on the cot in the spare room, staring at his reflection in a small mirror. He wore sleep clothes which were much too big for him, which had belonged to a former beau of Maz’s. All she’d ever told Hux about him was that he was a trader who had gone on a journey with a colleague and never returned.

The only light came from a single lantern hung from a hook on the wall. Millicent was on the other side of the room, poking around curiously at some stacked crates. Maz had gone to bed a while ago.

Although his eyes and limbs felt heavy with tiredness, Hux didn’t think he could sleep yet. Instead, he looked at the changed man who had returned, the stranger who wore his face.

Maz had been right, he did look well. His cheeks were fuller, his figure still slim but less bony. Wherever he was, he’d had food and shelter.

Then there was his hair. He tried to pull it back out of his face, but it still felt so unnatural that he resolved to go have it cut as soon as possible, nosy villagers be damned.

All the while, the cloak sat beside him. He lifted it and looked at it more closely, as though it might hold a clue. But to his dismay, further inspection revealed no telling details, no embroidered name or initials or emblem. There was only that scent it carried, soothing in a way it had no right to be, and more than once Hux found himself lifting the cloth to his face and breathing in deeply.

There was also his bag. When he left he’d only brought a few things, yet now it was so full it almost didn’t shut. Desperate for answers, he set the mirror aside and sat cross-legged on the cot, pulling the bag over by its strap.

One by one he laid out the items in front of himself and examined them. There were socks, gloves, and a hat, none of which belonged to him. They were soft and high-quality but offered no clues. He set them aside.

There was a box of matches and a small, sheathed knife, both unremarkable; he set them aside too.

Next he pulled out a pouch full of coins. Counting them, he was alarmed to discover it was the equivalent of over two weeks’ work. He never had this much left over, and certainly hadn’t had that much on him when he left that day. Whatever had happened, wherever he’d gone, perhaps he’d found work. Maybe that was why he stayed so long.

As he put the pouch aside and reached into the bag once more, he grasped something soft, wrapped in a cloth napkin. He pulled it out to find a pastry, a roll filled with jam. It was cold, but otherwise fresh. His stomach gave a sudden gurgle; he couldn’t remember the last time he ate.

Taking small nibbles from the roll, he continued his search. At the bottom of the bag was something hard and heavy: a book. He pulled it out. It was, to his surprise, about birds. There was a tasseled bookmark holding the place about twenty pages in. A skim of the page’s contents confirmed what he already knew: he couldn’t remember ever seeing this book in his life, let alone reading it.

The bag seemed empty, but Hux lifted it by the bottom and gave it a little shake to be sure. Something shiny dropped out.

He lifted it carefully and turned it over in his hand. A bronze compass, old but well-made and well cared for, engraved with a design but, infuriatingly, no crest or initials to give away its owner.

With the bag empty and still no answers, Hux sat there and looked forlornly around at the things on the bed. He was no closer to discovering where he had been or why. If anything, he felt more lost than before.

Frustrated, he shoved everything back into the bag and dropped it onto the floor beside the cot. There was no use trying to figure it out tonight, so he put out the lantern and curled on his side, pulling the blanket up to his neck. Millicent soon joined him, curled up at the end of the bed.

After several long minutes staring at the wall, Hux huffed and turned onto his back. He couldn’t relax, there was too much to think about, too much he didn’t know.

He rolled over again and, in the dim light cast by the moon, his eyes fell on the cloak, a dark heap piled atop the discarded bag.

Slowly he crept one hand out and stroked the fabric with his fingertips. He sighed and pulled the entire thing onto the bed, clutching at it like a child’s doll, feeling foolish.

As soon as he pressed his face to the cloak he felt calmer, as if by magic. Which was nonsense, of course, but he soaked in the feeling gratefully nonetheless. He let the soothing scent wash over him and soon, finally, he fell asleep.

*

Hux spent the next few days trying to catch up on what had happened in his absence, which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t much. One man died, a young couple had their first child, so-and-so sold all his cows. None of it interested him, nor did it help him. The only remotely satisfying bit of information was finding out that some people had, in fact, missed him being around to repair things for them.

On his third day back he ventured out to go get his hair cut. As expected, everyone in town regarded him like a suspicious stranger. In a way, he felt like one. A stranger in his own life. Not that it had been much of a life, but it was his, and now it all felt wrong.

By the fourth day he was beginning to wonder if he would ever know what happened. He carried the compass in his pocket wherever he went, turning it over in his hand like a talisman that would provide answers if he just knew some secret spell.

Every night he went through the contents of the bag again, looking each item over. Each time he was disappointed when still they revealed nothing.

By the fifth night he’d given up denying that he slept better while holding the cloak. As he settled into bed he bunched it up and held it to his chest and pressed his face into it. The texture of the fabric between his fingers and the subtle smell he couldn’t place were comforting to him when everything felt strange and wrong. Its scent was starting to fade, though, and something about that frightened him, like the looming sense of an impending deadline.

Sometimes, alone in the little spare room or walking the streets of town surrounded by people, he’d be overwhelmed by a sense of longing. A pain in his chest, an emptiness in him that nothing seemed to fill. Along with it, the feeling that he was forgetting something. Not just the memories, but forgetting something he was supposed to do. Something important.

Every night, he dreamed. He woke up gasping, clutching the cloak for dear life. By the time he calmed, the details of the dream were long gone.

By the end of the week he felt increasingly guilty for taking advantage of Maz’s kindness, though she assured him again and again that she liked having him and Millicent around. She made it no secret how she felt about his father and insisted that if Hux never set foot in his old house again it’d be fine with her. She even offered to let him continue his repair work out of the back room of her shop.

All his things were still back at his father's house, though, and eventually he decided it would be worth the risk to retrieve them.

With that in mind, a week after his return he found himself standing at the door to his father’s house, jaw clenched and heart pounding. In his pocket he fiddled with the compass, turning it over and over again. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Silence.

He released his breath. His father must have still been at work or, just as likely, at the pub. But he would be quick, just in case.

He went first to his old bedroom. It was small and nearly empty, save for a bed, a desk and a small dresser. He gathered some clothes from the dresser and some quills from the desk. At the back of the desk drawer was a small tin in which he kept his meager savings. Hux felt around until his fingers closed around it and a quick shake revealed, to his relief, its contents were still there. He tucked it into his pocket.

Hux gave the room one final glance. There was no sign he’d ever lived there; he never allowed himself to settle in one place for too long. It could just as easily be a room in an inn, practical and impersonal.

His workshop in the shed out back, on the other hand, though small, was full of things, the shelves to one side carefully organized with his tools and parts, and several ongoing projects and books and scribbled notes spread out on the tables.

To his surprise, it was just as he’d left it, though a thin coat of dust covered everything. The moment he stepped inside he began to sneeze. With one hand covering his nose, he paused, suddenly, looking around. Something was familiar about this: a dusty workshop sending him into a sneezing fit. He shook his head; this wasn’t the time for another round of struggling with his missing memory.

Hux moved carefully through the cramped space, collecting tools he needed and forcing himself to ignore some others. He could always come back; he just needed enough to get started, to start bringing in some money so he could repay Maz for all she’d done for him.

As his fingers skimmed over one of his many abandoned projects, he remembered, suddenly: he’d been working on this just before he left. It was because of this that he left, because he needed some parts.

It was such a small thing, but the sudden, blinding clarity of that single memory was momentarily overwhelming. He remembered something. He was going to another town to get parts. He was walking through the woods, the riskier but shorter route. It started to rain. He lost Millie. The drizzle turned into a downpour. He was looking for shelter, and then…

Then, nothing. It was as though his memory hit a big, dark wall of nothing.

He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms, feeling sick with frustration.

That was, of course, when his father did finally arrive home. Even from out in the shed, he heard the slam of the door. He peeked through a clean spot in one of the clouded windows and could make out the figure of his father entering the kitchen.

Rather than bitter, angry, fearful, he felt only a strange sense of cold detachment. He’d been gone nearly six months; anything could have happened to him, and his father couldn’t possibly care less.

Hux didn’t understand why that mattered now. His father had never cared, but Hux had stuck by him anyway. Now, though, he felt…strengthened. Like he could stand on his own, without his father. Like maybe he deserved better.

To hell with this. He had a place to stay and food and clothes, even a little money. He had Maz and Millicent. That was more than enough, even with the lingering feeling of something missing. He might never get back those lost memories, but that didn’t have to mean going back to the way things were before. He could build something new.

He slipped quietly out of the workshop and along the side of the house. He spared one last careful glance through the window, into the place that had for a short time been his home, at his father, the only constant in his ever-changing life.

It was surprisingly easy to turn and walk away back up the path into town. With every step he felt a little lighter.

*

That night he dreamed again. He was standing in the woods, or something like the woods. There seemed to be no ground or sky, only a pale mist.

He was walking, searching for something. As he walked the fog seemed to grow heavier, more opaque, until it wasn’t fog but snow.

There was a clearing in the trees before him, where on the ground lay a dark heap. The snow around it was stained red.

Feeling like he was floating, Hux let his feet carry him until he was crouching beside the thing. It was not a thing, he could now see, but a man-like beast – or was it a beast-like man? – tall and broad with clawed hands. The face, though, he couldn’t quite make out, the details of it blurred no matter how he tried to focus.

He leaned over the man and reached a hand toward his face. The moment his fingers grazed skin, cold and gray like a statue, the man stirred and his eyes opened.

They were dark, darker than anything he’d ever seen, darker than the night, like two puddles of ink. They were the only clear thing on the still-hazy face.

Rather than frightened, Hux felt relieved.

And then, suddenly, the snow disappeared, then the ground itself. Hux remained suspended, still crouched, now curled midair, but the man beneath him began to fall away. Hux still couldn’t make out his face, but the eyes, so full of fear, those he could see clearly as they drew farther and farther away into the darkness.

The man reached his hands out, and Hux reached back, too late, and he was gone.

Hux woke with a sharp gasp, trembling, cheeks damp. His chest ached as though something vital had been removed.

Unwilling to move from bed, he stared up at the ceiling and fought to ignore the awful feeling. It was becoming tiresome, this fixation on trying to regain his memories. If dreams like that one were any indication, it was slowly driving him mad. He either had to find answers, or move on.

He first tried the latter, and spent the next several days setting up shop at Maz’s and stubbornly refusing to think about what had happened to him over the past six months. Soon he began allowing customers to bring him their repair jobs. Fortunately they were all too intimidated by him to ask nosy questions.

Still, he slept with the cloak. He was unable, it seemed, to sleep without it. And still he had that same dream, night after night, until ignoring it no longer felt like an option. He’d never been one to believe in signs but he felt like somehow it was trying to tell him something.

After nearly a week of trying to act as though everything was fine and normal, he finally resolved to find out what.

*

“You’re what?”

“I’m going back out there,” Hux replied to a bewildered Maz as he packed his bag. “I have to. I need to know what happened and maybe if I retrace my steps I’ll figure it out. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

There was silence. He turned, having expected more of an argument, to see Maz standing with her arms folded, contemplative.

“You’re right,” she said finally.

“I am?”

She tutted and walked over, stepped up onto a small stool and sat on the table beside his open bag, bringing her almost to eye level with him.

“Whatever happened to you, I think it was good. You’re different. You stand taller.” She smiled, knowing and fond, and for a moment Hux wondered if that was the way a mother looked at their child. “The belonging you seek, it’s not here. Maybe it’s out there. You’ll never know unless you look.”

His throat suddenly tight, he simply flashed her a quick, grateful, close-mouthed smile and nodded briskly, dropping his gaze.

Maz squeezed his shoulder and hopped down from the table to go finish cleaning. A moment later, Millicent hopped up to fill the space and rubbed against his hand.

He obligingly scratched behind her ears.

“Sorry, Millie,” he said despondently. “You have to stay here.”

His heart ached at the thought of leaving her behind. But he didn’t know what awaited him and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Once he found what he was looking for, he could come back. Or maybe he wouldn’t. But at least she would be safe with Maz; it was for the best.

“Sorry, girl,” he said again, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, hands stroking over her back. “You be good.” She indulged him for a moment before she squirmed from his grip and hopped from the table.

Hux sighed and put on the cloak, then slipped the strap of the bag across his shoulder. He took one last glance around Maz’s place. Another temporary home behind him.

He turned and left.

*

Talking about leaving was one thing. Actually doing it was another. He stood at the edge of the city limits and stood, looking at where the path, if one could call it that, into the forest began.

He would retrace his steps, he decided. Travel as though he was going from one village to the next and see what he encountered.

Maybe it would be nothing. Maybe he’d get to the other side, stay a night, and return the next day. And nothing would change. He couldn’t decide whether the thought was appealing.

He took a deep breath and started walking.

At first he had to laugh at himself for worrying over this. It was fine; a walk in the woods, the weather mild, the town behind him and, maybe, answers ahead.

But the further into the woods he got, the more uneasy he felt. He pressed on, stopping occasionally to close his eyes against the feeling growing in his head. It was the strangest sensation, an anxiousness, a dizziness, the feeling of something pushing at the walls of his mind, demanding access.

He fought through it, too stubborn to turn back.  His legs shook, his stomach turned, but still he continued. By the time he was deep into the woods, the feeling was nearly unbearable. Still, he pressed on.

And then, as if a rope had snapped, releasing him, Hux stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.

He took raspy gulps of air, trembling, his fists clenched around patches of grass. He stared at the ground, gaze unfocused, as the floodgates opened and memories poured in, overwhelming him.

Slowly the pieces that made no sense, the longing, the nagging feeling, the something missing, it all slotted into place.

Hux gasped.

He remembered.

All of it.

There was a castle. Talking suits of armor. Not just armor. The Knights. Phasma.

He remembered a workshop, a fireplace, a rooftop, a ballroom.

He remembered snow and fear and blood. He remembered warm blankets and hot chocolate. He remembered dark eyes and dark hair and a crooked, sharp-toothed smile and…

Kylo.

Hux’s head shot up.

“No,” he gasped. “No, no, no…” How? How could he have forgotten? And more frightening still: how long had it been since he left? It had to be over a week, maybe two. All the time they were supposed to have left, gone.

He stood on trembling legs and picked up his bag.

I have go back. I have to see him again, before…before…

Hux took several steadying breaths as he looked around and tried to remember how to get back to the castle. To his relief, the memory returned effortlessly, Kylo’s voice as clear in his mind as the day he’d said it:

Southwest toward the village. Northeast back.

Hux pulled out the compass, nearly dropping it with his shaking fingers as he held it out.  As soon as he found northeast he tucked it away so he didn’t lose it.

He held the fabric of the frayed cloak to his face and breathed in, out. Its scent was almost gone. Kylo was almost gone, too, if not already.

Hux clutched the strap of the bag and began to run.

*

It was fortunate for the residents of the castle that they were all either enchanted objects or suits of armor, for the place had never been so cold. A fire hadn’t been lit in days; the chill in the air outside seemed to seep in from all sides. It was dark, and quiet; a stranger entering would have thought it abandoned.

But up in the North tower, one lone, living being stood by the window, shoulders hunched. He wore no cloak or jacket, only trousers and a simple tunic. He should have been cold, but he’d stopped feeling much of anything.

The room was as lifeless and colorless as the rest of the castle, save for one thing: a red gem on the mantel, with a glow at the heart of it, so faint it was barely visible.

“Sir,” came a voice from the doorway. Kylo’s head twitched the slightest bit towards it, but he didn’t turn, didn’t reply right away. There was so little left to say, other than…

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause. He could list for hours the things he was sorry for, but Phasma didn’t make him. She came up to stand beside him at the window.

“I know,” she said simply. “If it means anything, I forgave you years ago.”

Kylo’s mouth twitched in a shaky almost-smile.

“It means everything,” he replied quietly, forcing himself to get the words out, difficult as they were, knowing it might be his only chance. “As does your loyalty, your…friendship. You’ve been my only friend all these years.”

Her helmet creaked a little as she turned towards him; she missed having it oiled very much.

“Not your only one, sir.”

Kylo lowered his gaze. The very thought of Hux stung like a deep cut that wouldn’t close. He thought missing his family had hurt, but this…this ache in his chest, this unbearable longing…he’d never known anything like it.

It was in the way he would turn as if to speak to Hux but find no one there. The way he would think of something he wanted them to do together only to realize they never would. It was in waking excited to see what Hux was up to that day only to remember he was gone a moment later, to feel the loss anew.

It felt like it would never end. Part of him hoped it wouldn’t; it felt as though missing Hux was all Kylo had left of him. The space he left was proof he’d ever been there at all.

“I miss him.” He let himself admit it aloud, just once. Phasma knew, of course. She had watched him lose hope as days passed and Hux didn’t return. Tears welled in his eyes and he didn’t bother to blink them back. If Phasma noticed, she didn’t acknowledge them.

“Me too,” she said.

Kylo stared out the window at the darkening sky. A storm was coming. “It’s for the best. I hope…I hope he’s happy.”

And he found he meant it. Hux would have had to leave eventually. At least this way he was safe. He could go live his dream. If one of them could be free, could be happy, he was glad it was Hux. He only wished he could be there to see it.

But at least Hux had the cloak, and the compass. Maybe he would think of Kylo from time to time. The thought made Kylo’s chest ache. Would he remember him fondly? Had their time together meant anything to him?

Phasma was watching him. “What?” he muttered, though it lacked any bite.

“You love him.” It wasn’t a question.

Kylo squeezed his eyes shut. As if closing them could keep him from seeing the truth.

“Yes.”

If only that alone was enough.

The air in the room changed, then. At first it was subtle, like a cold draft, but then it thickened. The weight of strong magic, coming closer and closer.

Kylo looked up, heart beating frantically, though he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to move from the spot.

“Go,” he told Phasma. “Take the knights downstairs. Stay there until he’s gone.” Until I’m gone. “Don’t try to interfere,” he added in a tone that begged her not to argue.

Just this once, she didn’t, though he could tell it was with great effort.

“Yes, sir.” She turned to him and bowed as deeply as her armor would allow. “It’s been an honor.”

Kylo gave a short, hitched laugh that was almost a sob. “I doubt that. But thank you.”

He closed his eyes and listened to her footsteps grow farther and farther away.

For a moment, the room was silent. The thickness in the air had grown almost palpable, cold and dense like ice.

Then a voice, a horrible whisper:

“I’ve waited a long time for this day,” it hissed, “my apprentice.”

Chapter Text

The creak of the door sounded too loud in the empty foyer, echoing down the halls as Hux slipped in and shut it. It was no warmer inside than outside, maybe even colder, and he shivered as his eyes swept across the room. It was only midday, but everything seemed so dark.

“Kylo?” he said. Then again, louder. “Kylo? Phasma? Anyone?”

No answer. His stomach turned and his chest felt tight.

Am I too late?

How had this happened? How could he forget? If he was too late and Kylo had gone to his fate believing Hux had abandoned him, he’d never forgive himself.

Hux took a shaky breath and set his bag down. Though it was cold, he removed the cloak, too, feeling stifled by it. He didn’t know it was too late. It was a big castle. Kylo could be anywhere.

He hurried first to the sitting room, where no fire crackled in the fireplace. In fact, it looked as though one hadn’t been lit for days. No plate or glass or unfinished book sat on the table by the couch. Hux walked slowly to the large windows. Outside, the birdfeeder had been picked clean and never refilled.

As he turned and scanned the room his eyes landed on the couch. The ache in Hux’s chest grew when he saw there was still an indent in the cushions and another in one of the pillows. For a moment he imagined Kylo lying here alone, waiting.

Stop it. This isn’t the time.

If he wasn’t too late he could apologize. He could try to make it right in what little time remained. If.

He walked briskly from the room and to the nearest staircase. Kylo’s name was at the tip of his tongue; he wanted to call for him, but something stopped him.

It was eerily silent as he made his way up stairs and down halls. The further up he went, the more he felt certain he was on the right track. There was something in the air, something charged and heavy and impossible to ignore. It had to be magic. Even with his limited knowledge, he knew it could be nothing else.

He reached a long corridor. At the opposite end was the spiral staircase leading up to the North Tower, where Kylo’s rooms were and where he kept the crystal.

Of course. That’s where it had all started. It was fitting that was where it would end.

Hux paused for a moment to listen when his eyes caught on something gleaming at the end of the hall. He took a few cautious steps closer, until he realized who it was.

“Phasma?”

He flinched at his own voice, too loud in the silence. He rushed over to stand in front of the silver suit of armor.

“Phasma?”

When there was no answer Hux was terrified that it really was too late. That she was stuck in this form now, maybe forever. And if he was too late for her, he was too late for Kylo.

And then…

“Hux?”

The metallic voice was strained and quiet but unmistakable.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“Been better,” she answered, the flatness of her voice dulling the joke. Still, he felt a wave of relief.

“What happened? Where is Kylo?”

Another pause. Hux was about to grow impatient when the reply finally came.

“He’s here.”

A chill swept through him that had nothing to do with the drafty old castle.

“He? Kylo? Or – or the sorcerer?”

“Yes.”

Both.

“Why aren’t you with him?” Hux couldn’t help but snap, then immediately felt guilty. There was nothing Phasma could do and she was clearly struggling to speak, let alone anything else. He just couldn’t stand the idea of Kylo facing this alone.

“I can’t move.” Another pause. “None of us can.”

“None of - ?” Hux looked back down the hallway from where he’d come and gasped. The knights were lined up along the walls on either side, unmoving.

“He did this to you,” Hux realized aloud. “But if you’re still you in there,” he turned back to Phasma, “that means…”

“Not…too late.”

“Where?”

“Tower,” Phasma confirmed. “Be careful,” she added.

“Too late for that.”

Hux gave her one last look, trying for a sympathetic smile. Then he began up the stairs to the tower, taking them two at a time.

Reaching the top he paused to catch his breath. Up here the energy in the air was even thicker, filling the space like a dense fog. He could feel it with every breath, every movement.

Still he heard nothing. The door at the far end of the hallway was ajar. He couldn’t see inside, but he knew it was where he needed to go.

On his way he passed the training room and stopped abruptly. The door was open and his eye once again caught on gleaming metal.

It was Kylo’s sword hanging on the wall. Hux stepped into the room. The memory of his first time in here was as vivid as the day it had happened.

“What is this ridiculous thing?” Hux reached for the large, ornate weapon.

“Careful,” Kylo snapped. He looked apologetic almost immediately. He was like two different people sometimes: at some moments as ferocious as his appearance would suggest, at others like a lost young man trapped inside a skin that didn’t belong to him. They were both him and not him at all. The true Kylo, Hux suspected, was somewhere in between.

“Careful,” Kylo repeated more gently. “It’s sharp.”

“Your sword is sharp,” Hux deadpanned. “Really.”

Kylo matched his expression with an equally exasperated one, but he was clearly trying not to smile. “It’s also enchanted,” Kylo added. “So be careful.”

“Enchanted how?” Hux asked, tilting the sword this way and that to examine it.

“In many ways,” he said vaguely. And then his voice dropped lower and Hux had to strain to hear him. “It can kill things that are…otherwise hard to kill.”

Hux glanced up from the sword to Kylo, who was suddenly very focused on the hem of his shirt, his expression carefully blank.

Like a sorcerer? Hux had wanted to ask.

But he didn’t.

Hux lifted the sword down from the wall. It was so much longer and heavier than the ones he’d learned basic swordsmanship with in school. Kylo could swing it effortlessly. Hux doubted he would be much use with it himself, but if he could get it to Kylo…

He sheathed the sword and fixed the strap across his chest. Then he continued towards the room at the far end of the hall. He moved cautiously, because as he grew closer he finally began to hear something. Voices? No, just one voice. One he’d never heard before. A vile, thin voice that made his skin crawl.

Hux pressed up against the wall just outside the doorway and listened.

“…no thanks to that mother of yours,” the voice was saying. “Even now, that useless spell of hers prevents me from taking what is rightfully mine. But not for long…”

Hux dared a peek into the room. He could just make out a pale hand turning something over in its bony fingers. Something small and red.

The crystal.

“She thought this could save you,” the voice mused, both irritated and taunting. Then it laughed, or some high hissing thing that barely passed for a laugh. “And you believed it, didn’t you? Yes, I know about him. There’s nothing you can hide from me. Really, boy…did you think anyone would ever want you? Don’t you know your only worth is in that power you insist on suppressing? That your only place in the world is at my side?”

From just out of Hux’s line of vision there came a shuddering sigh and his heart began to beat faster. Kylo. He was in there, listening to everything this madman was saying. Alone, without hope.

The sorcerer was powerful, that much he knew. And apparently he knew about Hux. For all Hux knew, he could be killed the moment he entered the room.

But as he leaned forward as much as he dared he glimpsed a tall figure brought to his knees, the hunch of broad shoulders, the fall of dark hair hiding his face, and Hux wouldn’t, couldn’t walk away and let Kylo face this alone. He…he had to…

“You’re wrong.”

Two faces turned to him where he stood in the doorway, head held high and voice steady though his hands and legs shook. One face so familiar and so missed, dark eyes widened in shock and mouth agape.

The other was almost skull-like, its pale skin stretched and twisted grotesquely about its features. He was tall, taller even than Kylo, and thin to the point of frailty, though Hux suspected it was purposefully misleading. He was just inhuman enough to be unsettling, but still human enough to show glimpses of what he might have been before years upon years of dark magic warped him beyond recognition. A pale, murky fog surrounded him.

Was this what Kylo would become?

The sorcerer tilted his head at Hux and sneered. “What an unwanted surprise.”

But Hux paid him no mind, looking instead to Kylo, who was rising to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” Kylo hissed.

“It’s good to see you too,” Hux retorted. It felt good to even argue with Kylo again.

“That’s not what I – you need to go!”

“I thought you wanted me to come back?”

“I needed you then!” Kylo’s voice rose to almost a shout. “Not now, not when…” Kylo almost motioned to his soon-to-be master then thought better of it.

I needed you. The words rung in Hux’s head. Of course. Kylo didn’t know what had happened in the village. When Hux never returned, he would have believed it was on purpose.

Hux took a step forward. “He did something,” he said firmly. “To everyone, the whole village, maybe all the villages nearby. Kylo, I forgot,” he tried desperately to explain. “I was going to come back. But I forgot everything as soon as I entered town. It must have been one of his spells. Please believe me…”

Kylo shot an accusing look to the sorcerer, who looked somewhere between amused and impatient.

“Didn’t you wonder why no one came?” The sorcerer said, grinning cruelly. “Why even your own family never came?”

Kylo’s face fell.

“So…”

“So you never really had a chance,” the sorcerer crooned. “Ten years of hope, wasted. No one was ever going to come.”

“I did,” Hux snapped.

“You were a fluke,” the sorcerer snapped back, turning his hollow-eyed gaze on Hux. “A mistake. And you’ll be gone too, soon enough.”

Hux turned to Kylo. There was so little time left…

“Listen. You don’t have to go with him.”

“I do, Hux,” Kylo replied, his tone defeated. “My mother’s spell won’t last much longer. He can’t take me until it’s up, but once he does…I won’t be me anymore…”

“What?”

Kylo motioned to himself, looking increasingly distraught. Hux wanted to run to him, shake him, hold him, drag him away. He inched closer. He could feel the sorcerer’s eyes boring into him at every movement.

“How I look,” Kylo said. “It’s…he wasn’t finished when my mother intervened. When her spell breaks, I’ll be a monster.”

“You’ll be powerful,” the sorcerer chimed in with sickening glee. “And mine to command.”

Hux let the new information sink in, wheels turning. Even with the end so near he felt the need to fix this impossible problem.

It doesn’t make any sense, he thought. Why…

“Why?” Hux blurted out, eyes fixing on Kylo, once again ignoring the cold gaze of the sorcerer.

Kylo blinked at him, the confusion on his face almost a relief after the despair that had been there a moment ago.

“Why what?”

Questions spilled out of Hux. “Why place a counter curse? Why push off what happened to you, why stall? To let you rot here alone for ten years waiting for him to come back? What was the point?”

During all his time researching ways to free Kylo he’d been looking at it from a single angle – the sorcerer’s curse and how to break it. But he didn’t have all the pieces.

There were two layers to this, he now realized, the curse and then the counter curse, the crystal. Now he understood: when the crystal’s light faded, Kylo would belong to the sorcerer. His mother had bought him more time, but why?

“Why delay the inevitable,” he continued, “unless…” and then his head shot up. “Unless it wasn’t inevitable. She knew there was a way out and was giving you time to find it. Or – or maybe she even gave you a way to break it somehow, without him knowing.”

He looked at Kylo, giddy with the revelation. But Kylo only looked away. Hux’s eyes narrowed.

Oh.

“There is a way,” Hux said dangerously. He took several long steps forward but stopped before the sorcerer decided to stop him. “There is, isn’t there? And you know it. You’ve known it all along, haven’t you?”

Kylo remained still and silent.

“Answer me!”

Hux’s voice tore harshly through the silence. Kylo flinched. When he finally forced himself to meet Hux’s gaze he already looked half a world away, distant and forlorn. Still, his lips curved into a small smile.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he muttered, fondness coloring the words. “Yes, there is a way. And yes, I know it. But I can’t tell you or anyone else. It wouldn’t – it wouldn’t work if I did.”

“What are you talking about?”

The smile slipped away. “I’m sorry, Hux. I am. There’s nothing you can do or could have done. Maybe one day I’ll find a way to tell you.”

“Maybe,” Hux spat. “That’s what you’ve been riding on all this time. That maybe you would grow powerful enough to break free of his control and come back and save everyone?”

“It’s all I had!” Kylo shouted back. “Don’t you see? I had to believe that that was possible. I was here alone for nine years before you showed up. I searched and searched for a way to break it and came up empty every time. I had to believe that even after he had me, there would be a way to fix things. I had to or I – I would have…”

Kylo was shaking, boiling over with emotion. His clawed hands were balled so tightly into fists that it must have hurt, his posture tense and chest heaving. He struggled to hang onto his last bit of self-control, fighting not to fall completely into rage and despair.

“It’s okay if you’re angry,” Kylo said, voice cracking. “You should be angry. You should never have been dragged into this. But please don’t hate me.”

Hux’s resolve began to crumble. He wasn’t even angry so much as frustrated at feeling so helpless in the face of a problem. And even if he was angry, maybe this wasn’t something he could snap at until it left him alone. What good would his anger do now? It would only hurt them both.

“I don’t,” he answered, his voice quieter but still firm. “I could never.”

The relief on Kylo’s face was heartbreaking. Again, Hux moved forward, trying to close the remaining distance between them. He reached for Kylo and Kylo lit up, taking a step toward Hux as well.

Suddenly Hux was stopped just short of reaching him by a sharp tug of something at his back. He scowled and pulled against it, trying in vain to move forward only to be pulled back again.

“What’s this?” The sorcerer’s voice came from off to his right.

The tugging, Hux realized, was not on him but on the sheathed sword on his back. When Kylo saw it his eyes widened.

“Hux, no…”

“Were you planning to kill me? You?”

Before he could answer the breath was knocked from him as he was lifted several feet from the ground. The sorcerer had his hand extended almost lazily, using his powers to lift the sword, sheath and all, taking Hux along with it where the strap was snugly fixed around his chest.

He gasped and struggled, arms and legs flailing helplessly in the air. Kylo looked horrified. The sorcerer laughed.

A few rough shakes and the strap of the sheath began to slip from his shoulder. The sorcerer gave one final swipe of his hand and the sheath flew off of him, the sword clanging off somewhere across the room.

Hux braced himself, letting out a strangled cry as he fell, but he didn’t hit the ground. He was caught midair by another set of powers and then lowered into waiting arms.

“I’ve got you,” Kylo muttered.

Their eyes met.

Kylo looked as though he wanted to say something. Hux thought he would too, he thought he’d have a million things to say. But now he couldn’t find the right words.

Then Kylo gently set Hux on his feet. He started to release him but Hux grasped Kylo’s shirt and kept him close. Kylo’s hand lingered on his waist, his eyes searching Hux’s face.

“I just wanted to see you one last time,” Kylo finally said, eyes downcast. Hux felt a swell of rage at the unfairness of it all, at the weeks he spent in the village with no memory of Kylo while Kylo waited, believing more and more each day that Hux didn’t care.

“I’m here,” Hux responded quickly. It wasn’t enough. It was too late.

Still, Kylo smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He reached a hand out and smoothed Hux’s hair back from his face with such care it made Hux’s eyes burn.

A low chuckle sounded through the room, startling them both.

“I see,” the sorcerer said. “You’ve just given me a wonderful idea, my apprentice.” At that Kylo looked up, fearful. “I know what I’ll have you do the moment you’re under my control.”

He drifted closer, the cold mist that surrounded him following and spreading across the floor to where they stood. Hux shivered. The sorcerer pointed a bony finger at him.

“I’ll have you kill him first,” he hissed.

Beside him, Kylo tensed.

“No,” he choked out. “Leave him out of this.”

“Slowly,” the sorcerer continued as though Kylo hadn’t spoken. “Painfully. You’ll make him wish he never set foot in this castle.”

“No.” Kylo whirled to face Hux again. “Go. You have to go. Please.”

Hux curled his hands into fists to hide their shaking. He didn’t want to die; he had so much left to do. And he especially didn’t want to die at Kylo’s hands.

But…

“No.” Hux said, voice shaking.

Kylo glared. “Hux, you -”

Even if Hux could have done it, at that moment the door slammed shut, making them jump. Hux turned to it, heart beating faster. He briefly, hopelessly considered running to it to see if it would open. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

He turned back to Kylo, who was now facing the sorcerer, standing between him and Hux. There was a feral hunch to his broad shoulders and a dangerous look on his face.

“I won’t hurt him,” he growled.

“You already know you’ll have no choice,” the sorcerer hissed.

“Let him go,” Kylo pleaded. “He isn’t a threat. Once I’m gone he’ll move on and forget all of this. Just don’t…don’t make me…”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” the sorcerer boomed impatiently. “Insolent boy. You’re only making this worse for yourself.” Then he sneered. “You’ll pick him apart bit by bit and listen to his screams. And you’ll enjoy it.”

“NO.”

A pulse of energy shook the room, Kylo at the source. The remaining window shattered; a painting fell from the wall with a crash. Hux stumbled and almost fell back on his ass.

The sorcerer didn’t move or even blink. He simply glowered down at his apprentice.

“You dare defy me, boy?” he said coldly.

Kylo was visibly shaking now. His hands, balled in fists at his sides, lifted up and a red aura began to radiate from his palms. The whole room quaked. The air grew thick as the red aura expanded and began to give off sparks.

Within seconds, his hands were engulfed in what looked like red lightning, curving and buzzing around its source. He radiated pure power. Even Hux could feel it.

He’d seen Kylo do little tricks with his magic and use it to perform menial tasks. He’d seen him train with it, just a little. But this. This was like nothing he’d ever seen. Months ago he wouldn’t have believed such a thing could exist. Now it surrounded him, making his skin tingle and the hair on the back of his neck stand up, undeniably real and dangerous.

All this time, Kylo had had this inside him? It’s no wonder the sorcerer wanted him, Hux thought with awe.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” the sorcerer was saying.

“I won’t hurt him,” Kylo repeated in reply. He flicked his hands and the lightning grew. Hux wanted to scream at him for his stubbornness. Surely Kylo would be punished for this. Surely Hux wasn’t worth that.

“Then I will,” the sorcerer said. He reached his hand toward Hux. Hux backed up but there was nowhere to go. He braced himself for sudden pain.

Instead, an icy grip slowly began to slither around his throat. He tried in vain to pull away but it was as though he was nailed to the floor.

For a moment the invisible grasp just lingered there, taunting. Then, slowly, it began to tighten.

Is this it?

He panicked. His eyes darted to Kylo. He felt like he should say something, but what? He opened his mouth but the grip tightened and only a choked gasp came out. He lifted his hand to try to claw at his attacker but of course there was nothing there. He struggled uselessly, a burning discomfort building in his chest, eyes brimming with tears.

Kylo let out an enraged yell and raised his hands.

No, Hux thought. Don’t.

Lightning shot from Kylo’s palms, directly toward the sorcerer. It happened so fast and for a fleeting, hopeful second Hux thought it had hit its mark.

The pressure on his throat suddenly fell away and he stumbled back. He doubled over, propping his hands on his knees, taking in big gulps of air. He reached up and rubbed at his throat.

When he looked up again he was met by a terrible sight.

The sorcerer had stopped the red bolt with one raised palm, almost lazily. The end of it was mere inches from his chest. It lingered suspended in midair like a crackling rope from him to Kylo. At its other end Kylo held fast, neither letting the lightning drop nor able to move it any closer to his target.

For a moment, it was eerily silent except for the sizzling of the lightning, its raw, humming power filling the air with static.

Then with a sharp crack, a spark of golden light burst from the sorcerer’s hand, pushing back against Kylo’s magic. It was also lightning-like, so bright it was almost white.

The sorcerer’s lightning tore through Kylo’s like it was nothing, and for a moment of sickening terror Hux thought it was going to strike Kylo down.

But Kylo grit his teeth and stood his ground, pushing back. His arms stretched out, shaking, his remaining sliver of red magic growing and fighting against the gold. The two beams sparked and crackled and the buzzing energy in the room grew.

The red light reflected in Kylo’s dark eyes, gleaming and ferocious.

“Go!” Kylo shouted. It took a moment for Hux’s brain to catch up and register he was speaking to him. He backed away slowly, feeling genuinely afraid for the first time since he’d entered the room. He couldn’t look away. This raw, pure magic…it was beyond him. He’d never felt so powerless.

His back touched the wall and he moved slowly along it, feeling around for the doorknob. He found it, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn it.

He took another step and his foot hit something. Glancing down, he saw the gleam of the sword where it had landed when it was flung aside.

It can kill things that are…otherwise hard to kill…

Hux looked at Kylo and the sorcerer, locked in their stalemate.

Kylo was holding his ground, but barely, the effort of it visible on his face, scrunched up with exertion, maybe even pain. His feet were beginning to slide back and the sorcerer’s light was growing while his shrunk away little by little.

The sorcerer, meanwhile, barely had to try to maintain his assault. His cold stare was fixed on Kylo, his face pulled into a sneer.

“Give up, boy,” he snapped. “You can’t win. I don’t want to damage you, but I will if I must.”

All the sound in the room faded out and Hux could hear nothing but the thudding of his own heart in his ears and the echo of the sorcerer’s threat. He stared at the sword and then, feeling like he was moving in slow motion, crouched to pick it up.

He gripped it in two hands and his gaze lifted again to the sorcerer, who in turn was focused on Kylo, having forgotten Hux entirely.

Kylo still refused to give in although he was slowly weakening. He was still fighting to protect Hux in spite of what it might cost him.

Hux took one step, and then another. His legs felt heavy. He took another step. Another. With each one he sped up.

He didn’t think. His own breaths were loud in his ears. He kept his eyes locked on the sorcerer and kept moving forward. The closer he drew, the more he could feel the electric energy pulsating from the lightning, sending tremors through him.

The sword was heavy, but he found the strength to lift it. Distantly he heard someone yelling. Kylo. Kylo was yelling something that he couldn’t make out. He was close enough to see the sorcerer’s hollow eyes and the lines of his scarred and wrinkled skin.

Then the sorcerer’s eyes widened in sudden horror, but not at Hux. At Kylo. Hux couldn’t stop, he couldn’t waste a moment to turn and see why, but he heard the sorcerer shout,

“You wouldn’t – NO! You belong to me!”

The world came back into sharp focus.

Several things happened all at once. The red glow disappeared and there was only the sparkling gold, a flash of blinding light. There was a sharp crack, a strangled cry and a dull thud.

“NO!” Came the sorcerer’s enraged scream, the lightning dying away from his outstretched hands.

And there was Hux, mere feet from him. The sorcerer’s gaze was locked on Kylo. Hux took another long step closer.

And then with all his might he lunged forward and plunged the sword deep into the sorcerer’s chest.

Silence fell over the room.

The sorcerer’s empty eyes went wide as they finally landed on Hux. He tried to move or speak but it was as if the sword had paralyzed him. The sword glowed deep red with magic. The glow slowly spread in tendrils through the sorcerer’s skin, into his face and down his arms to the tips of his fingers.

Hux kept pushing until the blade protruded from the sorcerer’s back, until the hilt brushed the faded fabric of his robes. He could feel the hum of the sword’s power in his skin, its warmth in his palms.

He leaned close to the sorcerer’s horrified, grotesque face. He was no longer afraid.

“You can’t have him,” he hissed. He lifted one foot and pushed the sorcerer back with it, pulling the sword from him. He stumbled back a few steps, keeping the sword raised. Just in case.

For a moment the sorcerer hovered there, frozen, the red glow slowly engulfing him.

And then he just…dissolved right before Hux’s eyes, into a thick mist that lingered at Hux’s feet and then was swept away with the next cold breeze from the broken window. Gone.

The sword slipped from Hux’s shaking hands and clanged onto the ground. Hux felt like he could suddenly breathe again. Now that he could think clearly, it all caught up with him.

I just killed a sorcerer.

For a second he thought he was going to be sick, heart pounding and breaths sharp and quick. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The room felt too big, the ceiling too high. He closed his eyes and breathed.

Is it really over?

He opened his eyes, half expecting to see that awful face right in front of him once more. But there was nothing. It was like he’d never been there at all. The weight in the air, the presence of strong dark magic, was gone as well.

It’s over…

“It’s over,” he said aloud. “I – I did it?”

It felt too good to be true. He didn’t understand magic or magical beings, but Kylo…Kylo would know. “I did it!” He couldn’t keep the elation from his voice, even as he feared to hope it was true. “Right? Kylo?”

Silence.

Hux turned sharply to face – the empty room.

Startled, he turned again, and again, looking all around.

“Kylo?”

Had he disappeared somehow? In killing the sorcerer, had Hux inadvertently done something to him, too?

Or had Kylo left? That seemed unlikely. He’d been there only moments ago, holding the sorcerer at bay with his lightning. That was, until…

The sorcerer shouting. “You wouldn’t – NO! You belong to me!”

A sharp noise. Another shout, not from the sorcerer but from somewhere behind Hux. The red light disappearing. A dull thud of something hitting the ground.

“NO!”

Shock and rage on the sorcerer’s face…

Hux turned and looked again. At last he saw the dark lump crumpled on the ground across the room, half concealed in shadow.

“Kylo!”

Chapter Text

Hux nearly tripped over his feet in his rush to cross the room, fighting off his growing panic with best-case scenarios.

Maybe he just overexerted himself. Maybe he just passed out.

He fell to his knees and rolled Kylo, limp and heavy, onto his back. Hux cupped his face, cold as ice, and said Kylo’s name, voice cracking. Kylo didn’t give so much as a groan or twitch. Hux pressed trembling fingers to his pulse and waited.

Nothing.

Hux released the breath he was holding with a shudder. He slid his hand down from Kylo’s neck to his chest, and then recoiled when he found it was hot.

The front of Kylo’s shirt was torn open, the edges singed, and at the center of his chest was a strange mark, the reddened skin marred in a pattern spreading out like the branches of a tree. Hux brushed his fingers across it, the only warmth on Kylo’s otherwise frigid skin.

More alarming than the mark, though, was the stillness of his chest, not rising and falling as it should. When Hux rested his hand on it he could feel no heartbeat.

Fear churned in his stomach and his chest was so painfully tight he could barely breathe. Frantically he reached up to carefully pull up Kylo’s eyelids, searching for some sign of life, anything. He gasped and let go immediately when he saw his eyes, dull as unpolished stones.

Reality began to sink in, seeping cold and stinging into his bones. It felt like the world was falling out from under him, leaving just him and Kylo’s lifeless body suspended in this terrible moment.

This wasn’t happening. They won. Snoke was gone, Kylo was supposed to be free. It wasn’t…it wasn’t fair. Hux had been through enough to know that nothing was, but this time he’d been foolish enough to hope for better. To have it ripped away like this…

Hux’s arms dropped to his sides. He sat back on his heels and stared.

“No,” he choked out. “No, no.

And then with a pained sound he could hardly believe came from his own mouth, he lunged forward and grabbed Kylo’s shoulders and shook him roughly, desperation taking over.

“If this is some joke, it isn’t funny! Stop this right now!” he snapped. “Do you hear me?” He shoved at Kylo’s chest. “Stop it, stop it!”

He gripped at Kylo’s arms, digging in so tight it would have been painful if Kylo could feel it. He stared at his face, eyes wide, willing Kylo to flinch, to reach out and shove him off, anything.

And then, as quickly as it had come, the wave of viciousness passed and Hux sagged with a shuddering sigh. He loosened his grip and rubbed his hands apologetically over the marks he’d made.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He brought a hand up to smooth the hair back from Kylo’s face. “Kylo, please…”

The burn of tears in his eyes startled him. He rarely cried, it was a weakness he’d never been permitted. Now, though, there was no one to see, no reason to suppress it, and he couldn’t have if he tried. He blinked several times until he felt the hot tears slip down his cheeks. A sob tore from his chest.

“Please don’t go,” he begged as he continued to stroke Kylo’s face and hair. “Please don’t leave me…” He had to force out the words through the syrupy thick feeling in his throat.

When even his desperate plea garnered no response, he slid down until his face was tucked into the crook of Kylo’s neck and sobbed.

He hadn’t cried like this since he was a child in school, feeling completely alone in the world. Growing up he came to accept that it would always be that way. Maybe that was why this misery ached so much. For just a little while, he wasn’t alone. He had Kylo. And now he was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he said between hitched breaths. “I’m sorry I was too late. I wanted to be here. I wanted more time.”

Hux shivered. With the adrenaline gone, he truly felt just how cold the room had become. The sun would set soon. He should go, take his bag and put on the warm cloak and move on like he was supposed to. There was nothing left for him here.

But he couldn’t pull himself away.

When the tears subsided he propped himself up slowly on shaking arms. He looked down at Kylo, whose face was more serene than he’d ever seen it while he was alive. He tried to memorize his face, which had seemed so horrid in the beginning but was now only dear and familiar.

Hux sat up and cupped Kylo’s face with one hand, stroking a thumb across his pale cheek.

If Kylo were alive, he’d lean into the touch. His eyes might shut, he might sigh. He might be shy and look away, or smirk, depending on his mood. He would look just that little bit disappointed when Hux pulled away.

Hux remembered a moment they’d found themselves in a similar position: in the golden light of the ballroom, full of food and laughter, when they’d tripped and fallen while he tried to teach Kylo how to dance.

He could still picture it all. The awed way Kylo looked up at him, the feel of his skin under Hux’s fingers as he traced his features, the way Kylo’s eyes widened when Hux leaned in closer. And he remembered feeling a strange pull, like he was supposed to do something, but he didn’t know what. And then Kylo had pulled away, and he’d felt a strange pang of regret.

Now he knew what he wanted. What he should have done. Too late, like everything else.

Hux’s lips trembled as he leaned down and hovered barely an inch from Kylo’s. He hesitated for a moment. Then he let out a slow breath and closed the gap, pressing their lips together.

He’d never kissed anyone before. It was almost too cruel, that his first one was with someone who was already lost to him.

Though Kylo’s lips were cold they were still so soft, and Hux’s heart ached at the thought of what could have been. Would Kylo have been surprised? Would he have pulled away or pulled Hux closer? What would it have felt like to feel these lips move against his, to be wrapped in a strong embrace? When they pulled apart, would Kylo look afraid, or would there be a mischievous gleam in those dark eyes?

He quickly stopped that train of thought, because it hurt. He pressed in just a little more and then pulled away gently. He blinked away the flood of fresh tears, watched as one fell onto Kylo’s cheek and rolled down it like it was his own.

Feeling numb and tired, he slid down until he could rest his head on Kylo’s shoulder, one hand clinging to his tattered shirt. He began to speak, his voice low.

“I found Millicent,” he began. “She’s okay. Thank you for helping me find her.” He stared off at the wall. “You should know…I’m finally leaving my father. I’m going to find somewhere to live and work doing repairs to get by, and in the meantime I’ll work on my inventions. I wish you could be there to see it. Even if you’d spend half the time distracting me.” His smiled a little in spite of himself. “But it would be better with you there…”

Then his face fell slowly and he blinked as something within him that had been buried finally saw the light. Something that had been there for quite some time, but he could only now recognize.

It would be better with Kylo there. Everything would. Even when he made Hux angry, he wanted him there. At some point, he’d become unable to imagine his world without Kylo in it.

And there was only one name he could give to that feeling.

“Kylo,” he breathed. “I think I love you.”

The confession was met with nothing but the howling of the wind outside. Too late.

Hux closed his eyes. He shivered and curled in tighter. It was so cold, and the body below him so warm…

Warm?

His eyes shot open. He hovered one hand over Kylo’s chest, trembling, before lowering it slowly until his fingertips brushed skin. He inhaled sharply when he felt a heartbeat thrumming beneath it. He turned his face into Kylo’s neck and – there, it was faint but it was there – a pulse.

Hux froze, thoughts racing. How was this possible? Was he imagining things? Had he lost his mind?

Then the body beneath his shifted and there was a soft groan from just above Hux’s head. Kylo’s arm lifted to move up and cover his face with one hand.

“Kylo?” Hux sat up quickly, practically dizzy with sudden hope. His mind was still screaming this isn’t possible, that just moments ago Kylo wasn’t breathing, but his heart didn’t care about the how or why.

“Mm…Hux?” Something about his voice sounded different, but Hux couldn’t place it, and he was far too relieved to hear Kylo speak his name again to bother to try.

Kylo propped himself up on his elbows. His head was lowered, hair hanging over his face. Had it always been just a very dark brown, rather than black? No. Hux had braided back that hair too many times. Something was off. Something had changed.

With a little grunt, Kylo pushed himself into a sitting position. He lifted his head and finally his eyes met Hux’s.

His…warm brown eyes. Still a little unfocused, but regular, human-looking brown eyes over cheeks with a light flush to them, on a face that was no longer an ashen gray. Kylo’s lips parted with a deep breath and between them were perfectly normal, not-pointed teeth.

Hux’s eyes skimmed down his body. Kylo radiated heat almost feverishly in spite of the cold room. The mark at the center of his chest was still there, stark and pink against his pale skin. He was still tall and broad, but not as monstrously so, still muscular, but with a softness to him.

Softer was a good word for the change. Softer and warmer and entirely human.

“You’re alright!” Kylo exclaimed. Hux could finally tell what was different: his voice wasn’t quite as deep, lacked the rumbling timbre it once had. “He didn’t kill you? Where is he? What happened? Hux?”

A hand – clawless – reached for him.

Hux recoiled.

Kylo’s face fell instantly, his new eyes widening. He pulled his hand back as if burned. “Hux?” he asked again, imploring.

Hux shook his head and scooted back further. He was shaking.

“You’re…you’re not…” Logically he knew this must be Kylo, human as he’d once been, but he couldn’t reconcile the difference between the man before his eyes and the one he knew.

Kylo looked startled. “What? Hux, it’s me, it’s–“ He stopped short as he moved a hand to gesture to himself, staring at it. He held both hands up, turning them over with a stunned look. He felt over his face, to his mouth and teeth, then down his chest, looking himself over.

“The curse, it…how?”

He looked up quickly, frightened, eyes darting around the room. Only when he seemed satisfied that Snoke wasn’t there did he turn his gaze on Hux. Kylo stared at him, tilting his head in a way that was so familiar it was unfair.

“He’s gone,” he breathed. “Not just from here, but from…it’s like his presence was always with me, this weight at the back of my mind, and it’s gone.” He sounded like he could cry from the relief. “You did it. You killed him!”

Hux opened his mouth to reply but he couldn’t find his voice. He shut it quickly and swallowed, nodding because he didn’t know what else to do.

Kylo’s frown deepened.

“Hux. It’s me.”

He extended his hand again, palm up, an offer. It lingered between them, the air tense. When Hux didn’t take it, he let it drop once more, his face falling in a way that caused a twinge in Hux’s chest in spite of his uncertainty.

Maybe it was true, maybe this was Kylo, but it wasn’t the one he knew. Somehow the curse was broken and Kylo was fully human again. Hux supposed he knew that would happen if they’d found a way to break it, but seeing it firsthand was another thing.

Did he remember everything they’d been through together? Was he even the same man? Or was his Kylo lost for good?

“I know I look different, but…not that different, right? Here, look.” Kylo pushed his hair back with both hands, revealing his ears. “Still huge, see?” He tried for a smile but it wavered and fell away when Hux didn’t answer. He dropped his hands into his lap, looking lost.

Hux looked over him again, seeking something familiar. It was true that he had the same mix of endearingly odd features, but that alone didn’t mean anything. He needed more.

“Prove it,” he finally said, voice hoarse. “That you’re still…you.”

Kylo’s brow furrowed, but he seemed to understand Hux’s meaning. He took a slow breath.

“I remember everything,” he began. “Your name is Armitage Hux. You came to this castle six months ago in the middle of a storm. We hated each other, and then we…didn’t. You’re an inventor.” He looked hopeful for a moment, but when Hux remained unwavering he continued, growing more desperate with every word. “You hate being cold. You love books and sweet foods and your cat. I gave you the workshop downstairs. You let me sit with you while you worked and we would talk. At night we sat by the fire. Sometimes you would braid my hair.” He stopped again, reaching up to touch his own hair as if he could still feel Hux’s fingers in it. “There was a night just a few weeks ago when we went up on the roof and looked at the stars. And then you taught– tried to teach me how to dance. That was right before you… left…” his voice trembled on the word like the memory was still fresh and painful.

“Please believe me, Hux.” He sounded so sincere, his gaze searching, and Hux wanted so badly to believe him, to feel right about this.

Before he could process everything Kylo had said, Kylo perked up suddenly. He fussed with the ruined shirt that had slipped down to pool around his waist. With an irritated growl, he tore it off and tossed it away. Then he shifted and pointed to his left side. Hux followed his gaze.

“There,” Kylo said. “See?”

Hux cautiously moved closer. He ran his fingers over the three pale scars curving across the skin of Kylo’s side. He knew their shape so well; he’d sewn them shut, cleaned them, watched them heal, had seen them poke out like the tails of shooting stars whenever the bottom of Kylo’s shirt rode up as he stretched out on the couch.

“You saved me,” Kylo said. He was watching Hux’s face intently. “You pulled me from the snow, took me home and took care of me. I didn’t deserve it, or even want it, but you did it anyway.”

Hux looked up and their eyes met again. This time when he looked at Kylo he saw a flash of something dark and intense that finally sent a thrill of recognition through him.

And then he couldn’t make Kylo out clearly because his eyes blurred with tears for the second time that day.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “It’s really you…”

He reached out blindly and Kylo was there, sitting up and grabbing Hux to pull him close. Hux fell into him and threw his arms around his shoulders, holding on tight. Kylo made a relieved sound and his arms closed around Hux, warm and strong, fingers clutching at his shirt. He was trembling. They both were.

“I thought you were dead,” Hux said, face hidden against Kylo’s neck where he could feel the gentle thrum of his pulse, the movement of his throat as he swallowed. The arms around him tightened, almost too tight, but Hux didn’t care. He held back just as fiercely.

“’m sorry,” Kylo replied, muffled into Hux’s shirt. Hux could feel telltale dampness against his shoulder. There was a long pause before he added, so low Hux barely heard him, “you came back…” He said it like he still didn’t quite believe it.

“Of course I did you idiot,” Hux muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut and stroked his hands soothingly up and down Kylo’s back. His skin was so soft beneath Hux’s hands, his body solid and real and alive.

They stayed like that, holding each other tight, for so long Hux couldn’t be sure if it had been two minutes or ten or more. He didn’t care. Not when just moments before he’d felt like he was lost in the cold, dark woods. Not when he’d found his refuge once more.

Eventually Kylo began to shift beneath him. Hux kept his arms around him, reluctant for any distance between them, but Kylo only freed himself enough to look up at Hux’s face. He looked tired but happy, cheeks flushed and damp and eyes red-rimmed, his full lips curved up into a little smile.

Kylo reached out and smoothed Hux’s hair back where it had flopped into his face. It must have been hopelessly disheveled, Hux realized, but from the way Kylo stroked it, it was clear he didn’t care. The way he was looking at Hux made a warm feeling bubble up in his chest.

“Are you okay?” Kylo asked softly, fingers lingering on Hux’s cheek. Hux nodded immediately. He was, now.

“Are you?” he asked in return.

As he said it, his eyes were drawn down to the scar that now adorned Kylo’s chest. At first the shape of it had reminded him of branches, but Hux decided it was more like lightning, the center of it just shy of Kylo’s heart. Hux pressed his palm to the mark. It was no longer hot to the touch, but Kylo’s skin was still warm, and he shivered when Hux’s cold hand met his skin.

“You’re freezing,” Kylo said instead of an answer.

Kylo placed his hand over Hux’s and suddenly the warmth spread from him, up Hux’s arm and through his body. Hux sighed with relief as his shivers subsided and his muscles relaxed.

Then Kylo swayed a little and Hux gripped his shoulders to steady him, abruptly cutting off the flow of warmth.

“Might need to wait a while to use my magic again,” Kylo muttered, glancing sheepishly at Hux.

“Oh, you think so?” Hux chided without any real heat. Now that things had calmed, the details of the battle with the sorcerer began to return to him. He sniffed and propped his arms on Kylo’s shoulders and frowned at him.

“What did you– right before I got to him, he shouted no, as though you were doing something he didn’t like. Kylo…did you let him hit you?”

Kylo’s brow furrowed but to his credit, he didn’t pull his gaze away from Hux’s. “I couldn’t hold him at bay anymore and he knew it. He was distracted, but not for much longer, and you were right there so I…gave him a different distraction.”

“Distraction? You almost died!” Hux snapped. “And attacking him in the first place was so stupid! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I couldn’t let him hurt you!” Kylo growled back, eyes darkening.

Hux’s mouth opened, he almost argued, until he remembered the single-minded focus he’d felt take over him when the sorcerer had threatened to damage Kylo, like he was no more than an object. The fight left him with a sigh, his shoulders slumping. He touched his forehead to Kylo’s and Kylo relaxed too. He brought his hands up to rub Hux’s back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it.

“How did…this happen, anyway,” Hux said after a moment, leaning back to gesture at Kylo, at his humanness.

“You broke the curse,” Kylo said calmly, but he seemed nervous, and Hux couldn’t imagine why.

“By killing the sorcerer?” Hux asked, curious why it had taken so long, why he’d had to endure those long, terrible minutes believing Kylo was gone.

Kylo’s eyes widened, an odd look somewhere between realization and fear. He looked around the room and then held a hand out, concentrating. The crystal, no longer glowing but vibrant red all the same, floated over and dropped into his open hand. He grasped it, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“What did you just say about using your magic,” Hux scolded lightly. But before Kylo could argue he thought of something. “Your magic. That…trick with the lightning…”

He ignored Kylo’s mildly offended look at him calling the display of power a trick. He took Kylo’s free hand in his and touched their fingertips together. “That was incredible. Why did you never tell me you could do that?”

“Because I’ve never done it before,” Kylo answered. “It’s the sort of dark magic I was never allowed to learn growing up. The kind I’m sure he intended to teach me.” His voice rose. “He was going to hurt you and I felt so scared, so angry, and it just…happened.” He shook his head and laced his fingers with Hux’s. “Do you want to know how you broke the curse or not?”

Hux had so many more questions, but it wasn’t the time. He dared to hope he’d have another chance, that they wouldn’t be separated again any time soon. He nodded.

That flicker of fear crossed Kylo’s face again but he tamped it down and began to explain. “You were right about my mother’s spell. She did give me a way to break the curse, but I couldn’t do it alone.” He turned the crystal over in his fingers, avoiding Hux’s eyes. “To be free, I had to learn to love another more than myself. And…”

“…and?” Hux prompted when the silence drew out too long.

Kylo took a deep breath. “And they had to love me in return.”

Hux stared at him, uncomprehending, and then…

Oh.

Oh.

Hux thought of his words to Kylo’s unmoving body and the kiss he’d placed to his cold lips. His face felt warm all of a sudden.

“I thought it was impossible,” Kylo continued quietly, “because who would ever…” he trailed off with a breathy laugh. “And it turns out it was nearly impossible, since he cast a spell over all the nearby villages.” Finally he looked up at Hux again. He was still holding his hand. “But you came. Only you. It’s like it was supposed to be you all along.”

Hux only half heard him, too busy wrapping his head around the notion that Kylo loved him.

“So that means you – “ he blurted out. He needed the confirmation. He needed to hear it, directly and without question, from Kylo.

Because there were many things he’d never done in his life, but most of all, he’d never been loved.

“I wanted to say it before you left but I was a coward,” Kylo said regretfully. He cupped Hux’s face in his hands, strong and yet so gentle, and Hux couldn’t have pulled away if he wanted to. “I love you.”

Warmth coursed through him. He clung to Kylo’s arms. “Say it again,” he ordered gently. Kylo chuckled.

“I love you,” he said firmly. “I love you,” he repeated for good measure. “Would you like it in writing? Etched in stone?”

Hux huffed in mock offense at the teasing and when Kylo laughed it was like a soothing balm to his soul, settling his frayed nerves. He didn’t know how he could feel so much in one day without bursting from it.

Kylo was staring at him hopefully, and after a beat Hux realized that he hadn’t even said it in return. At least, not while Kylo was awake to hear it.

“I love you too,” he said, matter-of-fact, like he was giving someone the time of day, and immediately he flinched. He wasn’t good at this. He thought maybe he could be, though, one day. For Kylo.

Kylo didn’t seem bothered by the awkward delivery. Several emotions passed over his face, but finally he settled on a smile. “I know,” he said, and it should have sounded smug but it was only reassuring. “I wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t.”

As he spoke his voice grew thick and he pulled Hux close. Hux let him, happy to hide his face in Kylo’s hair and hold him and let it all sink in. They were alive. The sorcerer was gone. The curse was broken. Kylo loved him.

Slowly, the world righted itself. His racing heart finally calmed. He exhaled slowly and traced his fingers over Kylo’s back and shoulders.

When Kylo eased back enough to look up at him, there was a warm fondness in his eyes. It reminded Hux of the way he would look at him some nights in the warm light of the fire, before Hux caught him staring and he turned away. Hux wondered if Kylo had loved him even then.

Before he knew what he was doing, Hux leaned forward. Kylo realized what was about to happen a moment too late to react, and he froze as Hux’s lips pressed to his. Their noses bumped and Hux remembered with a jolt of self-consciousness that he didn’t have a clue what he was doing and it made a big difference when the other person was alive to notice.

At least Kylo seemed similarly at a loss. But he recovered quickly, gripping Hux’s hips, tilting his head, parting his lips, and then, oh, it was so much better, soft and warm, making his head spin and his heart pound in his ears. Hux hummed against his lips and buried his fingers in his hair.

They broke the kiss slowly but their faces remained close, Kylo’s nose brushing Hux’s cheek. Hux gave a breathless laugh. “That was…”

“Mmhmm…”

Kylo nuzzled into Hux’s neck, and Hux took the chance to comb his fingers through his hair, overwhelmingly grateful for the small pleasure of feeling its softness again, one of so many little things that were nearly lost to him. His lips tingled slightly from the kiss, and he decided resolutely to himself that that was his real first one. Already he looked forward to more.

Kylo was calm, soft puffs of breath against Hux’s neck, but he was trembling, and Hux knew it was only a matter of time before he crumbled under the weight of all that had happened, and all that was still to come now that the curse was broken. Hux stroked his hair slowly, soothingly. Later. They would figure it all out later, and Kylo wouldn’t have to do it alone. This time, Hux would be there.

As though he’d read Hux’s thoughts, Kylo mumbled, “I don’t know what’s going to happen now.” He sounded almost guilty about it.

“I do,” Hux said. It felt good to be sure of something for once.

“You do?”

“We’re going to stay together. No matter what.”

Kylo pulled his head from Hux’s neck to sit back and look at him. Hux kept his fingers in his hair so he couldn’t go far.

For a moment Kylo just stared at him like he wasn’t real. Hux’s confidence faltered just a little; maybe it wasn’t enough, maybe Kylo needed more than that right now.

But then Kylo was kissing him again, and the wheels turning in Hux’s head, planning their next steps, screeched to a halt. As he clung to Kylo’s shoulders he decided that, just this once, it wouldn’t hurt to let things just…happen. After all, he hadn’t planned to end up here; he’d only been going to pick up a part he needed. He didn’t plan any of this, yet now it felt like all his life, all the aimless wandering, had led him to this very moment.

He vaguely remembered stories he read growing up, the kind that ended with a satisfying "and they lived happily ever after". What a nice thought. He almost laughed into a kiss; life with Kylo would certainly never be that simple. They’d bicker, they’d drive each other mad. Hux still had a lot of work to do to realize his dreams and Kylo had to clean up the remnants of the mess he’d made, not to mention catch up after ten years cut off from the rest of the world.

Hux cupped Kylo’s face and took control of the kiss and Kylo responded eagerly, humming against his lips. They were like two sparks who had finally ignited a fire, and they would burn so much more brightly together. Suddenly happily ever after sounded so safe, so boring. Not for people like them, who had been cursed and broken free, who fought an evil sorcerer and won, who fought their feelings for each other and lost, terribly.

No, life would be a grand adventure from here on out. And they would face it side by side.

He pulled back slowly; his eyes met Kylo’s and they both smiled.

He couldn't wait to begin.