((And this, my darlings, is the last chapter of Unexpected! Thank you for your support and do check out the other stories! Leave feedback and abuse in the reviews! Xxx))
What did one bring to a first birthday party? Especially when one knew nothing about children and said children didn't want for anything. Perhaps it wasn't a party per say, the boys were too young to have friends. It was more of a ritual marking that neither child would remember. Just bring yourself, we have everything else. Cole's text com had left him flustered, how could he turn up to his own son's birthday empty handed? He wracked his brains; they had the latest of toys though Nero was their favourite, there was no shortage of money and what would the twins do with it anyhow? They had all the latest holovids though they only seemed to watch one of them on repeat.
He resolved to order clothes, two of each design and leave it at that; they would always need clothes. They weren't yet mature enough to develop a sense of style and Kendra tended to dress them anyway. Kendra…. Would she miss her son's first birthday on account of him being there? He doubted it. Kendra was strong willed enough to ignore him though he doubted he would go unpunished if he tried to interact with her, however innocently. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. He had successfully been acting as a double agent with the Resistance for almost three months now and in a way he had not yet decided, he planned to tell her. If she saw he had turned his back on the Order or even tried to aid their enemy, she might reconsider.
It pierced at Brendol when he saw the confident if rickety steps both children took under Cole's careful guidance, steps they'd been taking for some time. He'd missed these monumental moments and he never expected it to hurt but he hadn't expected love to hurt either. They grew without him; unperturbed by his absence, as if he was a mere addition to their lives from time to time and not a crucial part as they were to him. In fact, he wasn't even entirely sure they recognized him. Yes, they were pleased to see him in their own way but they greeted him no differently to how they greeted anyone else. Or so Cole hesitantly confirmed for him. It only reinforced his own actions for him. If he helped overturn the Order; he might escape prosecution, he might be allowed become a permanent fixture in his son's lives.
To hold them in his arms was the final decision; he would work strenuously with the Resistance, be as valuable as he could and willingly report to another General. The difference in them was eye-watering. A year old and he had only seen them a handful of times since the week they were born, the week Kendra almost hadn't survived. He couldn't let that continue, he needed them and in time, they might need him too. Happily strained under the weight of a son in each arm, he reluctantly released Hadrian to Cole while Killian perched on his own lap to share a slice cake, a custom for birthdays that Hux never really observed nor had his family. Cole, however, valued his nephew's exposure to pleasant and positive things, why wouldn't birthday cake be part of that? Hadrian and Killian were not born as insurance policies (even if their father's early intentions had been just that), they were not destined to be unfeeling servants of the Empire or just there for the sake of the reputations of disinterested parents. These children were loved, doted on.
"Where is the refresher?" Too much birthday punch was, of course, going to have an effect on the bladder and while it was a common question in someone else's home, it was also an excuse to express an ulterior motive: Find Kendra.
"Second door on the right at the top of the corridor." Cole answered almost absentmindedly, prizing his role of uncle of the birthday boys with both propped in his lap. Brendol simply nodded and left. He did make a stop in the refresher but with his bladder voided and his hands washed, he went about his other mission: Her. She had to be here somewhere. Large and all as the house on Arkanis was, Hux couldn't fathom why his single brother in law needed a home this vast. Every corridor and hallway led to another, doors lined each one to rooms that Cole had probably never even set foot in. Why? What was the point? Slowly, he made his way through, hoping she wouldn't be too far from her children but with every door he opened and explored, the further he got from Cole and the boys and the likelihood of getting lost increased.
"There will come a time when you will have a decision to make and not only for yourself. Bide your time, my darling." It felt significant but she didn't understand. It kept her awake, tormented her. What decision? What did it mean?
Kendra had grudgingly agreed to relinquish the children for the evening of their birthday. She'd had them for the morning, the afternoon and would have them again at bedtime but Cole convinced her it looked better; reasonable and amicable to make that allowance. It would work in her favour where the divorce was concerned so she conceded, anything to make that bloody thing move faster though she doubted it was her hindering it. The fragile female still mourned as could only be expected. She tended to prefer her own company as had become a habit long before her sons were born. The boys, naturally, were the exception to her solitude and Cole at times. She'd shut herself in a room where she could sprawl in comfort and peace to wage war on her own mind while she tried to pick through that cryptic message. Glass of wine in hand, she sat in the basking glow of the hearth in a trance, just staring as if the licking of the inferno would have some sort of answer.
Kendra cast her mind back. She'd seen him at the villa on Aargau several times. She ignored the glances, ignored the attempts to make eye contact, left a room when he entered it when he had no business in there other than to be close to her. Why shouldn't she? He represented everything she deemed to be inhuman. The Imperial approach to alien governance was little more than regulated slavery, the Stormtrooper programme was consensual kidnapping and brainwashing and of course, the icing on the cake; the curtailed freedom of everyone in the galaxy. Diplomacy would be shut down and the innocents (human and non-human) would be at the mercy of ruthless dictator. She couldn't have known that the man who stalked her envisioned himself as that dictator. Nor could she have known his plans for her when he was.
She'd never forget the first time her husband spoke to her on the eve of their wedding. She would always remember how staunch and how formal he was. He seemed to have relaxed since but tell that to the heartbroken female who still pined for her missing lover.
The dancing glow of the flames in the hearth seemed to be the only light source in the library. It was hypnotic, watching how they moved in rhythm with each other, almost fighting over the log they suckled on. The heat had the young female drowsy, the page of her book hadn't moved in some time while she drifted in and out of her musings.
The same time the next night, she'd be in a very uncomfortable and unnerving position but she wasn't going to think about that if she could help it. Kendra should have noticed the shift in the environment, specifically the old, fat, ginger cat that had slept peacefully on her lap up until now. Millicent was awake and edgy.
Deciding to retire, Kendra gathered her cat securely up into her arms and got to her feet with a tired groan. Big day tomorrow…. Only when the soon to be bride walked around the sofa to leave did she notice the door to the library was blocked by an imposing, redheaded figure.
Clutching the feline close to her, she held her ground and waited for him to either leave or approach. To her surprise, he did the latter but left a metre or so between them. For a moment, he stood silent and if the light was better, she would have seen his eyes firmly fixated on her face, trying to take in every detail.
"Miss Varnett." She didn't respond. Merely stared him down, unimpressed and unmoved. He took an extra few steps towards her to see her better and only then did she realize how piercing that stare truly was. "Before we marry tomorrow, I would like to say how humbled I am that you accep-"
"I didn't accept anything." Kendra replied cuttingly and watched as his pallid features tightened. He seemed to glow; between his hair and his skin, he was almost luminous. She was pale but he was unhealthily so. He spent too much time under florescent lighting.
"Be under no illusions, I was told I was marrying you. Not asked. So try not to flatter yourself too much by thinking there is any sliver of your personality or physique that I would find appealing enough to willingly enter into a marriage with you." If he was put out by her response he didn't show it, he was determined to continue if anything.
"Nevertheless, I hope that you-" She swiped his sentence again.
"You see her?" Kendra had closed whatever distance remained between them with a confident stride and held up the cat so her dusty, orange coat was almost into his face.
"I…. Yes….?" He coughed slightly and turned his face away to prevent himself inhaling hairs or heaven forbid get any on his clothes. How could he not see it?
"She is the only ginger I'll be waking up beside." Kendra remarked sharply as the cat was tucked back securely against her chest.
"There will be no animals in my home." Hux was somewhat offended that she assumed the cat was invited. He was caught off guard when the smaller female in front of him emitted a sweet but sinister giggle.
"Well then, General." His new rank was spat like poison as her eyes locked with unnerving vanity with his. "You're marrying the wrong woman." With that, Kendra turned on her heel to skirt around him in the direction of her bedroom. The amicable call of:
"Goodnight, Miss Varnett. I look forward to tomorrow." saw her tempted to reply with an obscene gesture of the finger that was unfitting for a lady so she just about restrained herself.
Poor Milly didn't last on Arkanis (of course, she'd gotten her way in the end). Kendra tried to assure herself that the cat was old and it wasn't the horrible climate of her horrible husband's horrible home planet that had killed her. After that, with her last connection to home gone, there had been so many times she'd been tempted to just create an exit for herself and never look back. She knew from the second that trapping ring was put on her finger (which she'd removed at the first opportunity), that she would be miserable. Miserable, bored and underappreciated. Not to mention dreadfully lonely.
Not only that, she knew that misery would manifest itself into hatred and bitterness for the one that kept her confined. It would change her and it would become almost permanent if nothing was done. Would it have been easier to literally give herself over to the enemy? To try to be a good wife, make Brendol feel like she was supposed to? Should she have abandoned everything she was taught as a child (and it was her Republican mother who raised her) for the sake of survival and maybe some stab at happiness, however empty and ill-gotten when it meant renouncing every value she'd been given? If he wouldn't do it, why should she?
Then there was the Hosnian System…. Some of the finest beings, human and alien, she had ever met had been on Hosnian Prime. And now it (and them) was little more than a collection of rocks floating in the vacant space where it had once been. He showed little guilt or remorse at that fact. How was she to know when she was a small child, exploring the capital that she would later be chained to the one who would destroy it? Should she have felt guilty? There was nothing she could have done to stop him; she didn't have the same control over him as she did after Starkiller was destroyed.
Kendra would always remember the days following the destruction of Starkiller Base though. She had already made arrangements to leave for Naboo where everything was open to her; painting, writing, screwing her father over in the Senate. She couldn't do any of those things on Arkanis, the whole planet was smothering. Naturally, she was not only outraged but devastated when he turned up. So much so that she had sex with him on the dinner table and went about tearing him down time after time like her mother had told her to do. He then fell helplessly at her feet for her to do with him as she pleased, just like she was promised he would.
Things had changed when she became a mother. She had something to anchor and distract herself with from her dire marital situation. Well, at least when Brendol wasn't around to remind her of it. That said, she did appreciate the help he gave her after the boys were born. He did make her feel special; he made her feel beautiful and appreciated. If that wasn't conflict, nothing would be. She did appreciate the support after the birth though his clawing, desperate attempts to play happy families, not so much. He loved the boys; there was no question there even if he didn't have a clue what to do with them.
She heard the door opening but didn't react to it, it was simply Cole telling her that her husband had gone to bed and that she could take the boys.
"I'll be there in a minute." She murmured in a dream-like state without disrupting her gaze before he could even speak. She heard the door close and assumed he returned to the boys but the growing footsteps in the carpet made her search for another conclusion. Before it was reached, the last possible guess sat in the armchair adjacent to hers; much to her very obvious displeasure. "I was under the impression that you were given very strict instructions to stay away from me." Brendol managed to retain his nerve under Kendra's unimpressed, scornful glare; he knew he'd be met with this resistance. Needless to say, it gave her some vile sort of pleasure to see him squirm. "What do you want, Brendol?" He didn't answer immediately; he struggled like he always did when he became undone by her presence.
"I wanted to see you, maybe try and talk you out of this divorce notion." He flinched at the scoff that was muffled by the wine glass; the volume of it made little difference, he still had to swallow it.
"You have some nerve." The purr laced with acid forced him look up; he was in for another session of degradation of the most delicious form and from his favourite person to receive it from. That didn't mean it didn't strike him in the chest like a dagger. "I allowed you here for the boys' birthday, you are here at my goodwill, nothing else. And how do you repay me? Forcing your presence on me when I specified by my legal representation that you were not to contact me! That includes stalking, Brendol!"
"I'm not agreeing to any terms of divorce, Kendra." He responded meekly, dropping his gaze again which blinded him to her storming from her chair suddenly though the bark of indignation was more than clear.
"Typical!" She spat, prowling like a predator caged and confined as though the movement would ease her. "As usual! Nothing applies to you! I can't even have peace and privacy without you coming to sabotage it!"
"Kendra…." The redhead was as mild as before, almost fearful of retaliation and even more so when she whipped around to scowl at him. If he didn't tell her now, the opportunity may not come again. If he thought she wouldn't force his hand to hurry the separation, he didn't know her. She was willing to do what was absolutely necessary and her husband knew it. "The ultimatum you gave me on Naboo…. I want to change my answer."
"Oh you want to change it?" The scathing haul of fiery breath matched that wicked stare and if he were a lesser man, he might have bowed to the intimidation but this was far too important. His marriage was at stake, his children, his sanity. "And what divine intervention happened to inspire such a desire?!"
"I have already taken steps to do what you asked." Brendol murmured reverently, they were in the thick of Kendra's temper now. One of two things would happen: She would either calm down or get worse. "You asked me to leave the First Order, I can't do that openly. If I did, they would come looking for us. You, me, the children." She opened her mouth to start another furious barrage but Hux continued calmly which, amazingly, cut her off. "I have started passing secrets to the Resistance. I contacted General Organa the day Cole came to Finalizer, met with her a day or so later and…." The General (if he even deserved that title anymore) daren't look up but still, she was silent and listening. "I'm a traitor. I betrayed the Order, my breeding, my father's expectations, everything…. And I did it for you."
For Kendra to be quiet in the midst of a confrontation (which she made it her business to conduct when she and Brendol were in the same room) was rare and truthfully? Unnerving. As if the tirade hadn't happened, he chanced a glance upwards and instead of her furious pacing, he found it had reduced to a placid saunter. Said saunter guided her back to her chair where she seated herself with an even temper but her gaze shifted to the side as though deep in contemplation rather than her husband where one would expect it to be.
"So…." She drained what was left of the crimson liquid and set the crystal glass aside before leaning forward to finally take her husband in. The scrutiny was almost too intense to bear but Brendol reminded himself of the purpose for his betrayal and the vast majority of it was sitting before him. "Let me try and fathom this…. You left the First Order and are now working for the Resistance. Do I have that correct?"
"Well, no…." Hesitant to correct her, Brendol shifted uncomfortably while he tried to think of a way to phrase it so that she would be both understanding and sympathetic. "I am still serving as General of the First Order but any information I get; I pass to the Resistance. Any ambushes, attempts at colonization, attacks on settlements…. They intervene in time and lives are spared."
"And why would you do that? Considering it's you who hands down those orders in the first place?" The retort was steely but so far, she seemed to be taking it well.
"I don't." He replied, hoping this would last. "I pass on the commands to the squadron leaders from the Supreme Leader." The roll of her eyes at the mention of his 'master' was oddly comforting. Since his role of informant started; he started to feel underappreciated by the Order and humanized by the Resistance. He had never noticed the difference; growing up in a regimented routine had stuck and he had carried it with him into his adult life, driven by tradition to do his duty. But the meeting in the cantina with General Organa alone reminded him that he was in fact human. He had emotions and feelings and needs that the Order didn't cater for. She had sat with him, her arch enemy, and comforted him, assured him it would be alright. It didn't surprise him that it wasn't just about passing secrets to secure a deal and protect an agreement. He had actually found himself becoming more fascinated by their policies, their ethics…. No wonder they had the hearts of the galaxy. Starkiller was a lot to do with that.
"I did it for you." He continued with a small note of desperation. "I did it for the boys. You said if I left the First Order that you would stay with me…. That I would have my family back…." Brendol swallowed at the promise that was now (in his mind) so close to being fulfilled. "I can't openly leave the Order. Snoke would send Kylo Ren on the warpath and we would have no escape. They wouldn't stop at me, they'd come for you and our sons…." He noticed the tightening in her striking features but she said nothing. "But I did the next best thing…. I want that to be enough. I'm working with them to collapse the Order from the inside and in return, we'll be safe. My family will be safe." In all the things he expected Kendra to do, what she did wasn't one of them. When she got up and started towards him, he flinched when her shadow engulfed his. The last time she was that close, she physically harmed him.
The physicality came from nowhere, a gesture most unexpected. It took him a second to realize he was sharing a breath with her, that she had crawled into his lap and secured herself tight against him. Urgently, Brendol's lips moved furiously in retaliation to a kiss Kendra had initiated. He had expected her to take it well but not that well. This was what he had fought for, what he'd betrayed his life's work for: Her. And now, he finally had her. Longing, relief, joy; it was all there in that kiss, even more so when hands started to wonder and they were chest to chest like the lewd encounters before the twins were born. But Brendol didn't remember being this close to her hurting. Even when that embrace continued, he faltered and only when she drew back to watch his face did he realize why.
"And what did you think was going to happen when the Order found their mole?" She challenged in a savage whisper, watching him with something akin to a sick pleasure. The redhead started to pant, panic beginning to set in though his mind couldn't seem to calculate why yet. "I despise the First Order but they're not stupid. They would figure out eventually where the tip offs were coming from. And then my children would be in danger." With ease and satisfaction, Kendra swung off her husband's lap and resumed that careless saunter, leaving the dagger buried nearly to the hilt; where the blade met the handle deep in Brendol's upper abdomen.
"Shhh shhh shhh..." Kendra sighed, serenely mocking to lure him into false comfort as the blade edged in a little more and Brendol gasped through the pain. "Don't move, it'll only hurt more. Just... Stay as you are." He stared up at her, or as much as his body would allow his head to adjust to look at the dark haired female standing over his shoulder. "I warned you." She reminded him with a soft jeering tone. "The night you came back from Starkiller, I warned you I would be your downfall. I could have had you arrested. I could have brought the entire might of the Resistance down on you. But you were mine. And even now, you scrambling piece of First Order dirt, you're still mine. Mine to destroy as you destroyed me."
"The night we made our deal..." She breathed softly in his ear from the side of the chair; the blood trickling weakly from the blocked wound. "I told you I wanted to raise my children in a loving home. Ours was not a loving home. Not as long as you were in it." The handle was toyed with, twisted slightly but sharply to the right, provoking an agonizing moan from the General. "Did you think I was going to protect you from your own stupid mistake? It's you or my sons. And I'm certainly not choosing you." She relished the sight a little more, determined to remember this for the rest of her life. On the last word, the dagger was seized and torn from the flesh covering his liver, freeing the barrier to the blood. A dizzy attempt to stand (for a befuddled reason) was fruitless, but he somehow managed to save himself with the arm of the chair. Whatever way he moved to try and block the now pouring injury, he fell from the arm and down onto the floor with a noticeable thump. Circling like a shark, glowering down at him with her wedding present at her side, it all made sense now.
"You should have let me die when they were born." The female informed him lightly, padding lightly on the blood soaked carpet as Brendol started to feel faint. "You should have prayed for me to be taken rather than spared and none of this would be happening. But I made you a promise, Brendol. And I keep my promises." She chose then to pour another glass of wine, electing to sit against the arm of her chair and let nature take its course like she had with her father. He tried to crawl across the carpet; for what, his clouded mind couldn't seem to process. It was a vain, useless venture if anything; overseen and savoured by the mother of his children.
The blade had injured his liver though she would have been satisfied with a kidney; any major organ in that area where high volumes of blood passed through to be cleaned. It was perfect. He would die quickly but she still got the immeasurable pleasure of watching him bleed out. She remembered her exact words to him after she had decimated his self-control on the dinner table, after she marked her territory. "Your downfall won't be Snoke; it won't be the Resistance, even if the Republic were still intact, it wouldn't be them either. I will be your undoing, Brendol." She'd never forget it. True, she never imagined there would be children involved but she was nothing if not stubborn.
"There will come a time when you will have a decision to make and not only for yourself. Bide your time, my darling." She made the decision to end her husband's hold over her and she did it mostly for her sons' sakes; even if they hadn't come into being, she convinced herself she did it for the galaxy. She'd waited so long to do it but she bided her time... Kendra was woken from her epiphanic daze by a pathetic, half-hearted gurgling; a struggle to say something. The dark haired female dropped into a crouch in front of him with little squeamishness for the crimson soaking the bottom of her dress and waited with a tilted head for him to either die or force something out.
"Do you love me, Brendol?" The silky taunt was delivered as if it might save him while he lifted a stained hand to grapple and hold her, anywhere would do; a desperate shot to confirm it for her. "That's why you did this silly thing, isn't it? You thought I'd love you if you left your beloved Order. You thought we'd be happy and in love, surrounded by our children and living out the rest of our days together as a married couple should. Well, Brendol. Your days have come to an end but mine are just beginning. I want you to know that when you take your last breaths which you seem to be doing now. You wanted forever with me and you were willing to play with fire to get it." Callously, Kendra rose to her feet and started away, Brendol's hand slipping weakly and dragging off her as she went. "And look where it got you."
Everything was starting to lose colour, his tunic and the carpet beneath him squelched obscenely whenever he bid himself to move, however subtly. The smell of metal seeping from his own body was strong enough to make him retch but even in his state, he knew he wasn't capable of it. Being surrounded by metal on Finalizer and Starkiller, he had never experienced a stannic odour like this one. His heart still beat, pumping the blood around though the thoughtless organ didn't recognize a breach further down and the blood not making it back from its cleaning station. With that, he got weaker and weaker. It appeared his pain receptors had shut down; there was no longer agony, only an awful chill despite the fire roaring only metres from him. He took notice of all these things to distract him from the terrible betrayal of love. Or was it betrayal if she never loved him; hated him, in fact? After all, wasn't she just keeping her word? Extracting revenge for herself? And perhaps Lon? It wasn't a comfort either way.
Still she watched, unperturbed by the bloody handprint on her shoe. He didn't have long. The tell-tale choking, the shaking, the undeniable depths he'd paled to. Not to mention the vast majority of his life force spilled onto the rug and hauled a short distance across the room like a morbid snail trail. His eyelids began to feel weighty though to close them would mean admitting defeat. He resisted the temptation for as long as he could, opting to hold Kendra's expectant stare instead until his exhaustion called him to rest. The laboured breathes became shallower and shallower while his head dipped and rested off the carpet, taking the strain off his neck. The light of the room had been cut off by the strands of soaked material though he couldn't feel them on his forehead, he felt nothing anymore. The comforting artificial darkness provided by sensory deprivation encouraged him gently to close his eyes, if only to rest.
"Say hello to my father for me, Brendol." She was off in the distance somewhere, ensuring that anguish pricked him before he went. "And wherever it is you go, Isabelle. Won't. Be. There." Whether he heard her or not, she would never know. And to think, all he had to do was sign and he would still be there. Finally free, there was a contentment and a gratification she had never really known before. It had been born of violence and death but sometimes, that was the price of freedom. "Contact the Resistance." She told the petrified maid who had just timidly stuck her head around the door, roused by the thump of Brendol's body hitting the floor. Those bright blue eyes fell on the redhead one more time, cruel and vicious with biting indifference in her tone. "Inform them General Hux is dead."
((Well... That happened. I know there were some who wanted this to happen and some who didn't but this was the ending I had planned on from day one. I changed my mind numerous times but I needed to be true to the ending I always envisioned! Thank you all so much for the follows, favourites and reviews; they spurred me on to keep writing! Again, feel free to leave feedback and abuse and do have a look at some of the other stories! Precious Cargo (which is another Hux story) is next! Loves ya! Xxx))
