Cara stared blankly out the window onto the rain-soaked metropolis she called home. Droplets streaked down the windows which made up the entire east-facing wall of the room she was standing in - relegated to waiting for the men deciding her future to come to her at their leisure.

The youngest daughter of a Lord from a noble house in the Tapani sector, she was expected to make an advantageous match as had her sisters and brothers before her. Under normal circumstances, she would have been paired off with another nobleman of good breeding, but with the tentative situation unfolding across the galaxy under the ever-tightening grip of the First Order, her father had seen fit to buy their family extra protection against any coming onslaught. His last, and most beautiful daughter, could be the chess piece with which he secured his position and that of his family further. A union between Cara and a high-ranking official of the First Order was just the way to achieve this.

It would have been inappropriate to ask outright, indeed the nobles in the Tapani sector were much too proud especially where their daughters were concerned to go around asking for offers of husbands. No, matches like this first began in whispers which carried across the galaxy to listening and interested ears, hopefully earning a response. Cara's father had done as such, leaning heavily on his many connections and waiting expectantly for a grand overture from the one to whom the whispers were intended.

An emissary at last came to their front door one morning, a letter in hand from a Brendol Hux acting on behalf of his son. The letter was brief and to the point, merely stating that he had heard it rumoured Aemos Barnaba had an eligible daughter and they were accepting potential suitors. There had not been a need to explain who he or his son was. The surname of Hux had quickly become synonymous with power following the Battle of Endor and eventual rise of the First Order. The father was accomplished yes, an Admiral now, but his son was currently the general in charge of the First Order's prize warship, the Finalizer. It was to him the whispers had been directed, and Cara's father had clapped his hands at the breakfast table upon reading it, smiling from ear to ear.

The letter stated that upon hearing confirmation Cara was still eligible the Admiral and his son would arrive to meet her and the family for themselves before determining a wedding date. Lord Barnaba's hasty reply was sent with the afternoon post and a response came the next morning that they would arrive in 3 days' time.

Overjoyed, her father had sent the grand house into a tizzy trying to ready themselves and prepare. There had been no shortage of pomp displayed for the matches of all her other siblings, but Cara had seen the trembling in her father's hands as he rested by the fire at night, clutching his glass of whiskey shakily. To be allied with the wrong family at such a perilous time as this could be disastrous for everyone, but to be aligned with the right family… well, that was something else entirely.

Their visit from the Huxs had been brief and perfunctory. The two men arrived on a dark shuttle, both dressed in black and striding down the airstrip of Cara's family home high up in the air, the city sprawling beneath them. Her role was minuscule, she was merely there to stand silently and look pretty while her father worked his charms and the Admiral and son could admire what they were essentially looking to purchase.

The idea grated on her nerves that she was only an object for possession in their eyes - a vessel to be used and bred whenever her husband felt the inclination, however gently or violently he pleased.

When she first saw him he was taller than she'd expected. Very tall in fact, and she breathed a sigh of relief. One of her biggest fears about her new husband was that he would be short like her and their future children would be dwarfs. The fiery red hair was a surprise though. She had not met many redheads in her life and she found the colour fascinating. His father stood next to him, almost equal in stature but not quite, and his bright hair had faded to orange and was now tinged with gray. She could not deny that her intended was handsome, however every time she glanced at his face to try and read him his expression was so severe she wondered if he had not been dragged along in this venture unwillingly.

Cara understood the role of a wife in such a situation; her father had enunciated it very clearly to her. After the men left, promising to return within one week for the ceremony, her father sat her down between himself and her mother to explain what she could expect in her future life.

Men aboard the Finalizer, especially powerful men like General Hux, typically did not have wives or if they did they would leave them elsewhere, on their home planet or another of their choosing and visit periodically when they had time or felt the need. Her husband was to do the same. Aemos had generously offered their summer villa on Naboo as a 'love nest' for the happy young couple. After the wedding she and General Hux would journey there together, consummate their marriage and then most likely he would only visit a few times a year to attempt and get her pregnant. She would beget sons and daughters for the future Hux dynasty and live out her days peacefully tending to her children until they came of age – of age for what though he did not elaborate.

Her stomach rolled at the thought of carrying a child for a man she barely knew, especially one who always looked as if there was something particularly unpleasant underneath his nose. Still, she knew better than to argue. If what her father said was true she was a great deal more fortunate than many young girls whose families had secured similar matches. There had only been a few, but the girls she knew had all been married off to sour, old men like the Admiral instead of young, forbearing ones like his son. Given the choice she wasn't sure which she would have picked, but then again, the choice had never been hers to begin with.

The day of her wedding the sky had been murky and grey, much like her mood at the thought of what today represented. Rain began to fall as she ate her breakfast privately in her room, watching the horizon for the same shuttle the men had arrived on before, the blue satin of her bathrobe slipping from her shoulder as she leaned over to look out the window.

It wasn't until an hour later when her maids were dressing her in the smooth, tight-fitting gown her mother had helped her select (one small measure of control afforded to her by her father) the material draping down her back and around her curves that she saw the same shuttle as before, only this time there were two.

Of course there's two nitwit, you're supposed to leave together for your 'honeymoon,' she thought bitterly to herself. The wedding was not what worried her, rather all that was to come in the days and years afterwards. She had braced herself for what a wedding would entail; she had seen enough of those, but a marriage, especially to a stranger, that was something else entirely.

Her sisters had tried to kindly instruct her on what to expect from her wedding night, and her duties forthwith. There had been no agreement as to how long the General would stay with her on Naboo after the wedding, indeed he could stay for days or mere hours for all she knew. She was not to expect love or affection, or even kind treatment from him though outright abuse would draw the ire of many families so she would most likely be spared from that. Still, her role was simply as a bed warmer and a brood cow unless otherwise called upon; nothing more.

The ceremony was performed in her family's expansive parlour, only immediate family in attendance. She noted that there were no other people present for this cold, impassive man save for his father and a small host of Stormtroopers waiting aboard the metal ramp that led into the shuttle meant to carry them both away.

She could have sworn she saw his eyes widen when he first beheld her in her dress, but that was the only reaction she received from him. No eye contact at the altar, no reassuring hand to hold as she waited for the necessary words to be spoken. Their one physical interaction was the moment his fingers placed the ring on hers and the contact between their skins sparked like electricity. Her eyes had lifted to meet his in that moment but if he took notice he didn't show it; by the time her face peered up at him he was staring at the officiant once more.

A brief reception followed the ceremony with tea sandwiches and platters of fruit and cheese. Cara was to have a full dinner with her new husband upon arrival at the villa on Naboo. During the reception the women and the men generally were separate, with the exception of her mother who stood by her father's side with the Admiral and the groom, surrounded by Cara's 2 brothers and 3 brother-in-laws. From her perch across the room with the women of her family, Cara thought their conversation seemed lively, and she even caught the Admiral laughing once at something her father had said, but she could see no reaction from her husband at all. Oh dear, this wasn't going to be very fun.

After an hour her father clapped his hands, signaling to the servants that it was time to collect his daughter's last few belongings which had not already been fastidiously packed. Those items she had used this morning – her hairbrush, robe, pyjamas and the like were quickly folded and taken aboard the shuttle while Cara's sisters fussed over her hair and makeup one final time.

"Remember to try and relax the first time," her eldest sister whispered conspiratorially, "It will help it hurt less if you don't tense up."

"Don't initiate anything in the bedroom. Let him take the lead."

"Try to make sure he takes you on your back and rest with your pelvis propped up afterwards. It's the best way to ensure conception."

"Don't worry if it doesn't happen the first time. It can take several months in some cases."

Cara's head swirled with all the murmurs of last minute advice and she clung tightly to her mother's hand when she felt it slip comfortingly into her own. Before now she hadn't even considered that there were other ways of copulation than lying on her back and letting him tire himself out. She had also never given much thought to the ideas of how best to conceive, always assuming it was something that just 'happened' when a man and a woman did what married people do. Then again, she was 19, and had little experience interacting with men outside of her own family.

The wind had let up outside thankfully, but the rain persisted and on the landing where the shuttle was left Cara looked nervously at the water cascading around them, worrying how she was to keep her hair and makeup the same when the elements seemed to conspire against her. A dark shadow appeared by her side and she looked to see her husband hovering over her ominously, his black clothing made him seem all the larger and more imposing; red hair almost comically contrasted with the grey of the sky around them.

Aemos rushed forth with a huge umbrella, holding it over his daughter's head protectively as if afraid he might try to run towards the shuttle and ruin all the efforts they had made with her appearance in order to please the General. She had no such inclinations, preferring to wait for someone to produce a solution to the problem, but her mouth quirked in a half smile at the way her father doted on her – even if it was for her husband's benefit and not hers.

With one last hug to each family member and a deep curtsy to her new father-in-law, Cara felt the General's hand gently on her elbow guiding her down the steep pathway to the waiting shuttle. At the foot of the metal ramp she turned and looked back at her family one last time, waving slightly and trying to memorise their faces, not sure when she would see them again. Hux's hand on her lower back did not feel lewd, but mildly possessive, and he turned her away so the ramp could close and guided her to their part of the shuttle.

It was not a huge ship, but not little either. There was a small comfortable area accessible by a door behind the cockpit where she was greeted with two rows of plush seats facing each other and warm lighting. Hux gestured she was to take the side across from him and so she sat down, alone for the first time with the man who was her husband.

He looked back at her cryptically, his eyes betraying nothing of what he was thinking. Cara was moderately good at reading people, but this man seemed accustomed to keeping his feelings hidden. She wasn't sure if that boded well or not for her future with him.

"You looked beautiful today," he spoke directly to her for the first time, his voice low and appreciative.

Her hands were folded in her lap where the ends of her curls had dangled over her shoulders to pool together, their softness framing her face in ringlets. "Thank you," she replied, validated that at least he did find her attractive. The look she saw from him at the altar had not been her imagination.

Their ride to Naboo took a few hours; most of it was spent in silence. Hux stayed in his seat, hands busy with a couple of datapads and Cara leaned her head back, eventually dozing off.

When she woke up General Hux was gone, a stack of datapads left where he had been sitting. Cara was unsure whether she was supposed to get up and look for him or remain where she was. She opted in favour of the latter when she glanced out the small circular window across from her and saw the bright, sunny planet of Naboo: The ship was beginning its descent.

Nervously, she fiddled with the new ring on her left hand and watched the shades of green and blue draw closer until she began to make out distinct shapes and borders where the colours met and the land and the sea collided. The mountain peaks came into focus allowing Cara to see the distant waterfalls that meant they were close to her summer home. Wait, she reminded herself, Your permanent home.

If someone had asked, Cara would have freely told them that she much preferred life on Naboo to her planet in the Taponi sector. While the villa was certainly bordering on ostentatious, there was none of the pressure to perform socially for other noble families and the like - the looming threat of public embarrassment and excommunication never seemed to follow her family when they came to Naboo. Here they could just be.

Upon landing she looked out the window and continued to wait, assuming someone would be along shortly to collect her. Right on cue, the door whooshed open and her husband reappeared, his face still expressionless and unreadable, but she remembered his compliment from earlier and tried to reason with herself that this might simply be his manner, and she would get used to it in time.

The General stepped forward and hesitantly offered her his hand, "My lady," he addressed her formally. She took his hand and felt the strength his tall figure exuded move through her as he pulled her body up to standing with little effort. Another prickle of electricity seemed to burn through her at his touch.

They disembarked the ship together, blinking rapidly into the sunlight—a stark contrast to the weather earlier that day. The bright orb had begun making it's descent for the night and the sky was beg inning to tinge with soft pinks and oranges to prove it. The General took her hand gently in his and linked it under his arm before they stepped down the ramp to another tall walkway just wide enough that they were flanked by Stormtroopers on every side as they tread the narrow path towards the house.

Looming ostensibly above them, her family's summer home had been in their possession for generations. Tough limestone walls bleached white by the sun were built into the mountain, the red clay roof burning hot to the touch for little feet daring enough to climb it during the summer. Most bedrooms were large and even with a growing family there was usually enough space for everyone to have their own rooms.

Cara looked up at the balcony to her old childhood room and wondered absently if they would be staying there tonight, before remembering that she was now the lady of this house, and her husband the Lord. The Lord and Lady slept in in the master chambers.

She swallowed at the thought of what she was expected to perform in a couple hours' time, but kept her gaze focused on not falling from the narrow path or accidentally tripping and sending an unsuspecting Stormtrooper tumbling to their death. One of the servant's sons had fallen from here when he was a boy, careless and running too fast for such a perilous location. He slipped almost at the end where the walkway met the stone path on the mountain, falling over the edge and plunging into the forest below. It had been a somber summer after that – Cara's family was not overtly generous with their servants, but they treated them significantly better than many other noble families treated theirs. Once the body had been retrieved they'd buried him high up on the mountain, the craggy rocks above and below ensuring that few if any would ever disturb his resting place.

She squeezed her husband's arm tighter at the memory and he looked at her briefly for some explanation before fixing his eyes back on the path at the end of the walkway.

Inside the villa she was relieved to see familiar faces – her father had sent a few servants from home, opting to train new ones for himself so that his daughter could have some additional comfort in the long years she would be confined here. At least until she had children he reasoned, she would need other people she knew to keep her company during her husband's long absences.

The entry doors were thrown open dramatically for them and the General led her inside, continuing to steer her with the arm she had entwined with his own. It felt strangely intimate, to be this close with a man she knew nothing about apart from he was powerful, but… the man was her husband. It was actually a common trait for matches that neither saw each other much before the wedding. Generally they did speak together a few times, if for no other reason than to ensure the other didn't have an impossibly high-pitched nasal voice which might drive their partner to insanity over the course of 50 years. Of course in her husband's line of work 50 years of marriage seemed unlikely. She wasn't sure how old the Admiral was, but the things she heard about the General's profession led her to believe it was a highly dangerous job. She might actually become a widow before a mother.

In the center of the entry room he stopped and rounded on her, looking deeply into her eyes for the first time and she gasped to see the bright green pupils in his face staring impenetrably down into her own blue ones. "Would you like to freshen up before dinner?" he asked politely.

She watched how his mouth moved when he spoke – the way his cheekbones lifted with certain words and caused his eyes to crinkle slightly. "If that is what you wish my Lord," she murmured demurely.

He seemed to regard her warily, as if uncertain on whether she was being genuine. Although he was a man used to being obeyed without question, in areas such as this he was lost as to how to proceed. Having a whore brought to his room aboard the Finalizer for a night was different than being married and having obligations to someone. While he knew she must be all too conscious of her duty to provide him with children, he looked down at this girl at least 10 years younger than him and saw someone almost a child herself. He felt a keen awareness of his own duty towards her. He could not be the husband a girl of her upbringing would have come to expect, he could not be present daily or oftentimes even frequently and unlike the standards for her conduct, women in her place knew not to expect affection or fidelity from their husbands. Yet still he was struck by the urge he felt to if not make her happy, at least not make her miserable.

"I want you to do what you wish," he replied carefully, "We have an hour yet until dinner. I assume you know where our chambers are. If you would like to refresh yourself beforehand you are welcome to do so, otherwise the hour is yours to do as you please. I will be down here working on some things until it is time."

His tone was not stern like his father's, and it gave her the impression that this was no trick or mind game; she really was free to do as she wanted. She knew that would be true of all her days when they were apart, but her sisters had led her to believe that a husband of his power and position would come with a great many demands. As it was he hardly seemed interested in her.

The General departed for the study where she saw the stack of datapads they had left on the shuttle were already neatly placed on the large desk waiting for him. Behind her was the ornate dining room being prepared lavishly by the servants for the Lord and Lady to dine soon. The distinct smell of meat and something hearty she could not place wafted all the way out to her from the kitchens.

Her feet found their way to the stairs and she plodded up the marble steps daintily, recalling the times she and her siblings had slid down the smooth banisters when their parents weren't looking. The servants never told, merely smiling at the children doing what children are wont to do when not under direct supervision.

Upstairs she turned out of habit towards her old room and then remembered her things would not be in there. Cara spun on her heel and went the opposite way, looking over the railing as she did in case her husband changed his mind and had decided to come up.

In the bathroom she drew her own water, soaking in the tub until the bubbles began to disperse and the temperature grew chilly. She made sure to keep her hair and face out of the water, not wanting to ruin the hard work her maid had put into her appearance that morning. More than anything, she wanted to still look as beautiful to her husband at dinner as she had during their wedding, even if he hardly noticed the effort.

When a servant came upstairs and informed her that dinner was ready she snatched the towel she had left lying next to the tub, hurrying to dry dress herself appropriately in one of her summer gowns used exclusively on Naboo. After she finished and gave one last look in the mirror to ascertain if she was presentable, she scurried down the steps, making her way toward the dining room.

The General was standing by the open doors waiting for her when she arrived; indeed he had watched her descent with muted interest. He was not a vain man per se, but he was a proud one in many respects. After his father had sent word that he found a suitable bride for his son, noting her exceptional beauty in his message, Hux had been reluctantly persuaded into taking an afternoon to visit the planet she called home and see for himself whether she lived up to the term. He had not been disappointed. It was impossible to be ignorant of the reasons behind her father securing the match with him rather than another noble in the Tapani sector, but he was so taken with her extraordinary looks upon meeting her – those blue eyes, perfect teeth, the smooth creamy skin and a sweet innocence about her had created in him a burgeoning need to possess her for his own. General Hux did not need a wife, nor did he particularly want one, but he knew the expectation existed and that in order to secure the proud dynasty began by his father he would need heirs. Cara Barnaba had looked every bit the part of a woman he would be willing to have bear them.

Contrary to popular belief, General Hux could be kind and patient, when it was with people he did not hold a military position of power over. The fact was just that he very seldom encountered people who did not belong in that group and so years of fastidious military service had left him unsure how to act when around the civilian population. Day in and day out for over 2 decades he had been surrounded by stern figures shouting demands until gradually he became the one barking out orders. This girl seemed delicate, yet stronger than she looked at the same time. The curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts radiated the impression of a woman in the prime of her life to birth children. He knew most women craved motherhood, and that there were few areas in which he could be a satisfactory husband for her; as he watched her supple body approach the doors to the dining room he was reminded of his husbandly duties towards her tonight that with luck would result in giving her what he assumed she wanted from him.

"Good evening," he greeted her first, taking in the same features from earlier but which seemed softer and more relaxed now in her loose summer gown and skin still damp from the bath.

"Good evening General," her eyes lowered reservedly, and he internally cursed himself for not having said something to make her more at ease around him. He didn't consider himself a man given over to such trivialities as having 'fun' and forming romantic attachments, but the guardedness she exuded in his presence unsettled him for some reason.

"Come," he stretched his arm in the direction of the dining room she had eaten in for months at a time her entire life, "Let's eat together."

Obediently she followed him, allowing his hands to pull out a chair for her diagonal to the one he took at the head of the table. One of the servants in charge snapped his fingers as soon as the Lord and Lady were seated properly and a troupe of 4 other servants scurried out from the kitchen bearing platters of food—steam escaping from the metal tops covering the trays.

The dinner was a roast with vegetables and assorted fruits. Man and wife waited for their servings to be loaded onto their plates, Cara catching a wink from Mira, one of the girls she had known for years. Originally she had been born to one of their maids, growing up alongside the noble children though never being completely part of them. Sometimes Cara would give her old items and clothes she no longer had use for, and they had developed a tentative friendship back on her home planet. She was glad her father had seen fit to send Mira with her – it would be a comfort in the long years ahead.

"Do you like it?" he husband interrupted her thoughts to ask.

"Hmm? Oh yes, it's all wonderful," she assured him, looking at her plate to realise she'd barely taken a few bites.

"Really? You've hardly touched it. If you'd prefer something else I can have the servants prepa—"

"There's no need!" she told him a little too vehemently, "It's one of my favourites, that's probably why they made it. I'm just nervous is all." She dropped her gaze lower to stare at the hand resting in her lap. Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut?

The silence that followed was too unnerving though and when she raised her eyes to look at him she finally saw a new expression, one of understanding.

"It's normal to be nervous," he said, his fork left on the plate as he leaned back in his chair and wove his fingers together.

"Is it?"

"Very. What are you most nervous about?"

Emboldened by his kindness, she stumbled through the words before she could think better of saying them, "I just don't know you – anything about you really. I don't even know your first name. How old you are. Your favourite colour, food, interests…" her voice trailed off, "And you don't know anything about me. Yet now we're married. It all feels a little bit surreal."

The General looked down at his plate and nodded, "Well, to start my first name is Brendol, like my father, though I would prefer you call me anything other than that. I'm 32, my favourite colour is blue, my favourite food is any kind of meat, my interests… well let's just say there are only a few and they are rather varied," he looked her up and down when he said it although she was too focused on sorting her vegetables by colour to notice it. "What about you?" he asked her, "I know you're 19, your first name is Cara, but what else do you want me to know as your husband?"

She looked up from her task with the vegetables, clearing her throat nervously, "There's not much to know. My favourite colour is green, my favourite food is sweets, and—" she hesitated, "I'm interested in a lot of things; the arts, history, being outdoors." She winced at how childish she must sound, becoming tight-lipped as she contemplated what amusement he must be finding in this.

"I see. Those are all worthy things to occupy your time with. But you're still nervous, what else do you want to know?"

Cara held back from asking it as long as she could before the question weaseled its way out of her. "Will you hurt me?" she whispered feebly, hating how tremulous her voice sounded, like a pitiful child who has been naughty but doesn't want to be punished. While it would look bad on him to be outright abusive to his wife no woman of noble birth knew enough about her husband before marriage to determine whether he had darker desires than appearances might lead them to believe. Although it reflected poorly on them, nobles in particular were not subject to the same laws and thus could treat their wives however they wished with little to no repercussions.

He exhaled with a sigh at her question, "No Cara, I will never try to hurt you. I might be aloof at times, and hard to read, but my marriage and my work I will do my best to keep separate. If I'm planning to visit and find myself in a foul mood I may delay it by a day or so, if I think I might be too sour to put up with."

She sensed he was making a joke with her and she gave a little smile, but still his face was indecipherable. To call himself aloof might have been a bit of an understatement. Cara also ascertained that he had not deduced the real purpose of that question. Or perhaps he had and did not wish to answer it.

"I must leave tomorrow morning to return to the Finalizer and resume my duties there. I will be back at the next convenient time to see you, perhaps in a month or so."

"Yes, sir." There was no point in arguing, not that she was sure she wanted him to stay or go. A few tidbits of information about him hardly changed the fact that she knew very little of her new life partner. As such she was indifferent about whether he stayed away for a month or a year. There was no way to know which would be more beneficial for her yet.

"Do you want me to wake you in the morning so you can see me off?"

"Yes sir," she repeated.

He continued to watch her freely now, and after several more minutes of her shoveling food to different corners of her plate he asked her, "Are you full now?"

Nodding mutely she heard the snap of fingers again from the head servant as the others rushed to clear their plates, noting how pale their mistress looked but saying nothing. It was universally known that most women feared their wedding night, even more so when it would be spent with a complete stranger.

The General stood and held out his hand to her expectantly. She took it, using what felt like all of her willpower to stand when he pulled out her chair for her. Together they climbed the wide marble staircase, turning left to where her parent's former room waited for them; the doors already left open expectantly.

A huge four poster canopy bed occupied the middle of the room, dressers and wardrobes tucked into the remaining wall spaces. Three sets of double doors were also open to the expansive balcony overlooking the peaks and valleys below, allowing the wind to sweep up the mountains and bring in the floral scent of cool summer air.

"Would you like to change first?" he asked her quietly, and her breathing quickened as she nodded and released his hand, making her way to the bathroom.

Her servants had already laid out something for her to wear, a shimmery blue nightie with a matching bottom half made of little more than strings which did little to conceal anything but that which the General would inevitably see anyways. Cara understood the purpose was to tantalise, to entice her husband so that he would come back whenever he could to breed her frequently until he was satisfied she had done her wifely duties by him. It was inevitable, her sisters told her, that he had been with many, many women before her, which might make the process of sex longer because he would have more stamina than a lusty teenager, but thinking of that now brought no comfort to her anxious heart.

She lingered in front of the mirror, running her hands down the slip experimentally to see how it might feel to the General's fingers. He had told her to call him anything but Brendol, but she wasn't sure what title that left her to use. At this point it was better to talk as little as possible and just listen for his subtle clues on what he wanted and would like for his wife to do. That was her mission in marriage, if she was to fulfill her ultimate purpose in bearing him sons.

Cara's palm stopped over her womb and she let it rest there for a moment, imaging how it might swell when the General's baby grew inside of her, stretching her body to its limits before it came time to give birth. She shuddered at the notion, terrified at the thought of childbirth but knowing that was the exclusive reason for which she had been selected for him. The Hux lineage must be secured in order to propagate a future dynasty – one which she would inevitably be a chief player in.

A cough behind the closed bathroom door reminded her that she had undoubtedly tarried for too long in her and she took a deep, slow breath before opening the door and stepping back into the cool room.

The General was waiting – seated on the bed with his head in his hands as if thoroughly tired. Briefly, she wondered if he would have the energy to perform but when he stood and walked over to her purposefully she knew that hope was in vain. She had been bought for breeding after all; there was no need to delay the inevitable. At least he leaves in the morning she reminded herself.

He was slower and gentler than she had expected. His large hands gingerly helped her lift the nightie she wore and he stared down at her, holding his breath before exhaling loudly and cupping the back of her neck to bring her face to his. Hesitantly she gripped his sides, trying not to dig in but too inexperienced to speculate on what he would want her to do. This whole process was for him after all.

His free hand stroked her stomach then trailed behind to hold her back as his mouth explored her own. A pleasant feeling seemed to be broiling within her stomach as his tongue wrestled with hers, though her kissing experience had never included that particular appendage. Naked but for her sultry lingerie bottoms, she felt shy when he pulled his mouth away, his eyes closed and groaning. That was when she felt the pressure of something stabbing her in the stomach and she looked down in apprehension to see the way his black pants tented in her direction.

Uncertain if she should, but desperate to do something to alleviate her self-consciousness at standing almost nude in front of a fully clothed man; even though that man was her husband, Cara's nimble fingers worked at the buttons on his uniform jacket, starting from the top and pleased to see his own hands began unbuttoning from the bottom. When the job was done they wrested the jacket from his shoulders together before he took her face in both hands and kissed her again. She was becoming more accustomed to the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, and a pleasant burning had begun in her lower regions which her sisters had never told her anything about.

After an unsuccessful effort to help him divest his pants, the General groaned again and released her face, undoing the fastenings which held them up and pulling down both his pants and underwear in one motion.

She stood terrified now, looking down at her husband's appendage which looked much too large to fit inside her. The mechanics of sex she was well versed in (or so she thought) but she had not expected to see her husband so big. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his shoulders in a silent plea to take her in his arms again, though she did not understand the urge any more than the warm feelings inside her which seemed to burn hotter when his skin touched hers.

His arms suddenly wrapped tight around her, lifting her off the floor and she gave a light squeak at the pressure, although she wasn't sure she wanted him to stop. Half-carrying and half-dragging her across the room he pulled back the covers and laid her down gradually onto the soft feather mattress, his eyes locked onto hers. When he freed himself from her grip she whimpered at the loss of contact. A small tug at the corner of his lips was the closest thing she had seen to a smile from him yet.

Blissful didn't begin to describe how she felt when his hard, sinewed body rejoined hers on the bed, bearing hers down into the mattress as she curved her arms around his back, trying to bridge the gap between them. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her with a ferocity she had never expected could come from such an action, arching her body against his wantonly.

She was lost in the sensations generated by his kissing when he nudged her thighs apart with his knee and knelt in front her on the bed. Above her the drapes of the canopy swung in the breeze and she felt the cool wind brush her cheek just as the initial onslaught of pain began.

Her sisters had prepared her for it to hurt. They had described it as a stinging pain that gave way to a dull ache. This was something else though. This was agony, akin to torture as her mouth opened in a silent cry. His eyes widened down at her as she tried to stifle the scream that caught in her throat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear as he thrust again, "It won't hurt like this next time."

The reassurance was lost on her as she felt her insides stretched to the brim. Cara was unsure if this exceptional pain was because she was especially small or her husband was especially big. Those were questions she would ponder later when the pain finally gave way to stinging and then the dull ache she had been promised. Now it was all she could do to dig her nails into his back and grit her teeth as she tried to bear it.

"So damn tight," he murmured into her ear. His movements sped up, and she sensed he was trying to rush through it in order to make the entire thing over with sooner for her. It took a few more minutes of his steady thrusting before it picked up tempo again and she heard him grunt loudly as he collapsed on top of her, his chest sticky with sweat from his exertions.

There she lay, pinned underneath him with his head buried in her shoulder, heavily breathing hot air against her ear. Her pain was still deep and intense, but as he began to soften it lessened somewhat and she shifted beneath him, beginning to find it hard to breathe herself with his full weight atop her. Finally he pulled himself out of her and rolled onto the side, leaving the wetness he had just deposited inside of her to seep out onto the sheets.

Her husband was still trying to catch his breath when he leaned on one side and propped his head in his hand, using the other to stroke her cheek gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered again in the darkness, the light of Tasia, the ice moon, spilling into the room through the open balcony to cast its beams across the bed.

Cara didn't respond to her husband's apology, she merely shifted onto her side to face him, watching for some expression to play out on his face. None came.

Eventually she felt his hand drop from her cheek onto the mattress and heard the telltale breathing of deep sleep overtake him. She watched his face, less stern now but still unreadable even in slumber. His normally slicked back hair was unkempt and hung forward over his forehead, sticking out at odd angles and she remembered with some embarrassment how she had clung to it when he kissed her. The pale skin of his arms and shoulders almost glowed in the moonlight and she reached out a hand to stroke down his chest, observing the hard planes of his muscles with some interest.

He had not been unkind, she observed, rather he seemed to treat most everything as a matter of duty. If not for the sticky evidence still leaking out of her onto the bed she might have questioned whether he had derived any pleasure from it at all.

When sleep finally found her it was fitful, her mind afraid for some reason of waking up in the morning and him already being gone. He had asked her if she wanted to see him off and she'd said yes, but would he renege on the offer and slip away without notice? There had not been enough time spent between them for him to have built up her trust enough to believe that he meant what he said.

In the dim morning light as the sun crept over the horizon, blasting it's rays into the room to warm her bare back, she woke with a start to see the General still where he'd fallen asleep that night, his gaze settled onto her with a muted interest as his fingers trailed along her arms.

"Good morning," he spoke softly, but still he did not smile.

"Good morning," Cara repeated with a half-smile. She stretched languidly like a cat and yawned, not noticing that the sheet covering her breasts fell when she did and his eyes gravitated towards them. Once she realised what she had done she watched his face for a reaction of any kind, the ache between her legs still burned and she wondered if he meant to have her again before he left. The heat she felt between them made her wonder if she would even object.

"How do you feel?" he asked, eyes furrowing in an unnatural show of concern.

"Sore," she admitted with a grimace, then castigated herself. As a wife her first thought was to be of her husband. There would be ample time to soak her limbs in the tub once he had left. If she was to do her duty and bear him children, she must always be able and willing to meet his sexual needs.

He didn't seem upset, merely nodding at her admission, and then gripped the edge of the blankets, tugging upwards once before throwing them off to survey the damage.

Cara's face burned with embarrassment at him seeing her naked in this early morning light. Her hair was like his, erratically disheveled and it would likely take the whole of the afternoon for her maid to work all the knots out of it. The covers had concealed what little modesty she still possessed from him, but the chief source of her mortification was the state of the sheets they lay upon.

Smears of blood mixed with dark spots from his own emissions as they both gauged the state of things. Cara averted his eyes when he told her it was very normal, especially for her first time. She didn't ask how he knew these things, she didn't want to think about how many other virginities he must have taken.

"I need to shower and eat before I go," he stated simply, rolling off of the bed, "Would you still like to join me?"

Uncertain whether both the activities he listed were for her to join or just the second one, she stood awkwardly from the bed and looked at the mess of blood and semen one last time before following him towards the bathroom.

The General turned out the faucets in the shower, waiting as the room filled up with steam while he tried to find the right temperature for the water.

"After you," he finally said, holding the tall glass door open for her and she stepped inside, painfully aware of how uncomfortable she still was around him in her nakedness. He joined her immediately afterwards, closing the door behind him and standing in front of her, the double showerheads raining hot water down on both of them. Hesitant to clean herself in front of him, Cara nonetheless used the hair products the servants had left in there for her, the shampoo that smelled like honey and the conditioner which made her hair smell like one of the orchards. After a few minutes she realized the General was watching her again, a soapy washcloth in his hand. She stood still as he stepped in front of her and lathered the cloth before pressing it against her skin, rubbing in circles across her chest.

Eventually his ministrations moved to her arms and back, then, turning her to face away from him he lightly scrubbed her buttocks then brought the cloth to her front, eliciting a gasp from her when it delved downward and softly scrubbed through her folds, removing the blood and cum that had dried there overnight, Cara's head leaning back onto his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around her waist.

The familiar burning from earlier last night replaced the aching and she felt herself arch against him quite unbecomingly. Her husband tightened his grip around her waist and the washcloth stilled as he fought to control himself. She is still in pain his brain reminded him Now is not the time to take her again. But he didn't have long before he needed to leave. Knowing Kylo Ren the ship would already be half-destroyed when he returned; if he stayed away much longer it might soon be a hunk of bolts floating in space…

Abruptly the General's hands released her and he turned away from her back to his showerhead, trying to conceal his erection as he busied himself using the washcloth to scrub his own body before turning off the shower and grabbing the first towel in sight.

Stunned by how quickly the situation had changed, Cara quickly rinsed out her hair and then fumbled for a towel herself; the General had already vacated the bathroom.

After she came out she found him standing by the bed, re-buttoning the black shirt of his uniform, his pants and shoes already on. He spared her a glance before a curt, "I'll meet you downstairs," and then he turned and left.

Bewildered by his response, Cara shook her head and marveled at how strange the man could be. She dressed quickly, retrieving her dress from the previous evening and pulling her blue satin robe over it before heading downstairs, her bare feet plodding on the hard marble.

Already seated at the head of the table, the General was tucking in to a breakfast of eggs, toast and sausage when she entered. One of the servants in the corner of the room closest to the kitchen hurried through the doors to procure food for her mistress. She strode up to the same seat she had sat in last night, pulling out the chair and settling herself in it. All the while he said nothing.

Breakfast was brought for Cara as well and they ate in silence save for the quiet sounds of utensils against plates and glasses being raised to lips then back onto the table. When the General was finished he stood without warning, pushing his seat away from the table as though he were in deep frustration with something. Still perplexed as to what was bothering him Cara stood as well, abandoning her half-eaten food in favour of following him to the front doors and out onto the lawn.

The walk back to the shuttle was shorter than she would have liked. She longed for him to speak to her—say something which would give her a clue as to what he was thinking, but his face was as inscrutable as ever. At the base of the metal ramp to the shuttle he stopped and faced her, eyes blazing with something she could not identify, but when his hands reached out to grasp her shoulders his touch was deliberately gentle.

"Send word with one of the troopers I'm leaving here when you find out if you are with a child," he instructed, his gaze looking off at the rising sun, "I will wait for your word."

"When will you come back?" she asked hopefully, already annoyed with herself for the thought of missing him, this stranger she would periodically share a bed with.

"I'm not sure. When I have time. Or when the baby comes." That's different from what he told you last night her brain said.

She didn't have time to respond before he pulled her towards him and left a damp kiss on her forehead, unbeknownst to her he closed his eyes as he did and inhaled the scent of her one last time before releasing his hold and starting up the ramp.

Cara crossed her arms over her stomach, conscious of the pressure she felt to feel something there, a premature motion which might alert her to the success of her new husband's endeavors. Instead she felt nothing, but as the shuttle ascended and she watched it zoom off into the sunrise, she reminded herself that only time would tell.

Author's Note: I felt so guilty for making Hux such a dick in my earlier work that I was inspired to write something for him (hopefully painting him significantly less evil). There is a sharp contrast between the number of Kylo/OC fics and Hux/OC fics, so here's my take on it for the very small pile already started lol. There will be updates, but nothing like my previous one. I can already tell you I don't have it in me to write 45 chapters again. HA! ;) :P