A GALAXY IS NOT ENOUGH
CHAPTER 3
The Ceremony
The next morning comes too early, and Rey is awakened by another arrival of Stormtroopers, this time accompanied by First Order beauticians. Apparently, they were to ready her for the ceremony today. They don't speak but to give short orders to move or turn for their inspection.
Once they've looked her over, and quietly murmured amongst themselves, they bring out canisters of heated water and Rey is washed and cleaned and scrubbed till her skin is pink and raw. Then thick hot wax is spread over her legs and arms and between her legs, followed by strips of gauze. Rey yelps in surprise and pain as the beauticians, four somber looking women all with hair in buns and crisp uniforms, rip the gauze strips off her legs.
After they finish with her legs and armpits, her hair is brushed and oiled, it's grown long over the years, falling just around her breasts. She sits patiently while they style her hair combing through it and tugging it and then heating it with some instrument till it falls in loose curls around her face. Then they begin to paint her face with all sorts of sticky things, and she shifts uncomfortably.
She's itching to move and hopes they're nearly finished when Kaydel Ko Connix and Rose Tico poke their heads around the bustling group of First Order officers.
"You okay Rey?" Rose asks shyly, from behind a First Order officer. "Oh, woah! What did they do to you? You look like an angel!"
One of the officers gives Rose a glare and snaps, "we made her look presentable. The rest of you Resistance scum could use a lesson in personal hygiene."
Kaydel stifles a snort and meets Rose's shocked face with an eye roll, "And you First Order stiffs could use a little lightening up."
"But in all seriousness," Kaydel says, turning back to Rey. "Rose is right. You look amazing. And your hair, I mean, why don't you wear it down all the time?"
Rey tries to reply but is swiftly cut off by an officer dabbing something sticky and sweet over her lips.
"Do you know how long after the ceremony before we can see you again?" Rose asks, worried. "Or is he whisking you away to your honeymoon right away? Is he going to try and lock you in a tower, so we never get to see you again?"
The officers exchange looks but don't say anything, though they move away from Rey a bit to allow her to speak.
"I don't know," Rey stammers, she hadn't even thought of that. Well, she had. But she hadn't wanted to dwell on it really. Because this was it. She was going to kill Grand Marshal Hux, she was going to avenge Ben Solo and then she would face whatever consequences came from that. She hadn't thought about seeing her friends again. And that thought made her ache, even though they were standing in the same room with her.
"Can you ask him?" Kaydel says gently. "Tonight? See if he's open to us visiting you or something?"
"I'm not going to ask," Rey replies confidently. "I'm going to tell him."
One of the officers snorts and shakes her head.
"Can I help you?" Kaydel asks in annoyance, cocking her head at the officer.
The officer gives her a smirk and replies, "I'm sure that will go over well."
"Anyway," Rose breaks in, "you let that man know your friends will be coming to check on you monthly, and we will be holo chatting with you every day."
"Every day?" Rey asks, surprised.
"As often as you want," Kaydel assures.
And just like that, the weight starts to lift. If Rey can somehow manage to kill him and get back to her friends. She might just find a way to truly live after she lost Ben.
—
Rey fidgets, uncomfortable in the too tight ivory lace gown. It feels constricting, and she's certain if it were any tighter, she wouldn't be able to breathe. Or perhaps it's all just nerves anyway. But she feels as if she's been put on display, breasts pushed up obscenely high, face painted like a doll, and hair raked through and sprayed with too much product.
How could anyone fight in something this impractical? Though she has to admit, it makes her look lovely. She's never really been one to worry about how she looks, she's always just been worried about surviving another day.
And Leia had explained to her that sometimes to survive you have to do things you don't want to. What's more, what you wear can be just as much of a way to survive as any other.
Leia had also given her a talk, the talk as it were. The one about expectations. And about how to fulfill those expectations. Rey hadn't really listened, just sat in awkward numb silence while Leia spoke. None of it seemed real yet. And besides, it wasn't like she was completely uninformed on mating rituals, she'd grown up on Jakku after all.
Even as she stood across from the tall, stoic Grand Marshal, she couldn't meet his eyes. And she couldn't listen to the holy man as he spoke either. Instead, she found a piece of brightly colored transparisteel viewport to fixate on until she heard the vile word.
Marriage.
She scoffed. What a sham it would be. It wasn't like this—this Grand Marshal could really even come close to the only man she had ever loved.
Aside from the fact that they had both held prominent seats within the First Order. They were nothing alike.
Ben, with his kind eyes and his soft looking lips. Ben, with his gentle voice and massive frame. This Grand Marshal was nothing like the man she'd loved.
Her eyes finally snap to meet her soon-to-be husband's. What was his first name again? Odd that she couldn't remember all of a sudden, perhaps her nerves were getting to her. At least she knew the surname she would take. Hux.
Rey Hux.
It didn't sound pleasant. In fact, it was strange to think that out of the names she could have taken, it would be his that she ended up with.
She almost laughed out loud at that. Realizing that she couldn't even remember her husband's first name.
The Grand Marshal watches her, his mouth in a hard line as the holy man speaks. Hux hasn't looked away from her during the entirety of the ceremony. Though his eyes dipped to the neckline of her dress briefly and he swallowed before a crimson flush bloomed across the apple of his cheek.
Hux listens to the holy man's words. Marriage was one of those things he's never planned on. Never wanted.
He'd seen his father's marriage, just a hollow shell of something that produced nothing but bitterness and resentment. Ironically it hadn't even produced him.
Had Maratelle Hux looked like this when she wed his father? He doubts it. She'd always been a harsh looking woman, but perhaps years of unhappy marriage might mar his bride the same way. His bride now, however, looks ethereal. A goddess in white lace curves elegantly outlined. Without meaning to, his eyes fall to her breasts, and he realizes he's never actually seen a real live naked girl in the flesh. And tonight, is his wedding night. What might her expectations be? Hopefully, she doesn't have too many.
He has an idea, well, he has a lot of ideas, but the reality might prove far more cumbersome than any fantasy he can muster. And it's not as if he has absolutely no clue, he's studied, he's read things, and he feels that this knowledge ought to adequately prepare him for what's to come. . . Shouldn't it?
He swallows, tugging at the collar of his uniform, it's suddenly become too tight.
Then there are the vows. Promises to each other to have and to hold. He feels the urge to chuckle at the absurdity of this whole affair. But he squelches the need with vicious thoughts of despair.
As if she'd want him near her.
She may be his wife, but he highly doubts she'll submit to wifely duties. It's not like she asked for this anyway. Not like she wanted this arrangement. It hadn't been her idea surely. It must've been a last, desperate act of Leia Organa to form some political alliance. Rey was practically her daughter after all. Adopted anyway.
—
Rey tries not to gasp in surprise at the beauty of the ornate wedding band, as the Grand Marshal slides it on her finger. But then the light hits it, and she can't suppress the intake of breath. It's stunning, and the way the band shimmers in the light, it looks like a galaxy filled with glowing stars. It's cut in such a way that it wraps around the three gems of her engagement band and makes them look like floating planets amidst a swirling galaxy.
The Knight had certainly been right about the rings.
Her eyes meet Hux's for only the briefest moment, and she's certain his furrowed brow is a question. Does she like it?
Really, how could she not? She's never been given something like this. Besides, if she needs to, she can undoubtedly pawn the rings and retire in luxury on some outer rim planet.
—
Her face gives away little, her hazel eyes meeting Hux's green without animosity this time. Perhaps there's a little surprise, but Hux can't actually tell if she likes the ring. Veserra Ren had reported that she seemed to like the engagement ring, but the Knight wasn't exactly the chatty type, so Hux hadn't gotten much more than that.
He clenches his jaw when he hears the holy man tell him to kiss his bride.
And then he leans forward to capture her mouth. Her soft lips are pliant and warm, and for a moment, he forgets that all of this is just an act.
Her mouth moves against his in tandem, and then he realizes if he doesn't move away now, he'll make an embarrassing show. So he pulls back quickly, leaving her startled at his sudden departure and he tries to think of anything other than the lovely creature standing before him lest the whole congregation note the burgeoning thickness in his trousers.
Rey is surprised by the kiss. Since the Grand Marshal looks so impassive and disdainful, she doesn't expect the kiss to be gentle, almost needy.
And she swears she hears a little groan come from his parted lips when he suddenly pulls away, and she's left standing awkwardly leaning toward him.
The holy man makes the announcement. They are man and wife. But the congregation doesn't break out into thunderous applause, or joyous words of congratulations and the quiet tension feels heavy and uncomfortable as the newlywed couple makes their way down the aisle.
Hux reaches to take Rey's arm, but she doesn't seem to notice, and they march gracelessly down the aisle and out into the sanctuary.
—
Once past the congregation and behind the solitude of closed doors, Rey let's out a breath.
Her husband is looking at her, his jaw ticks, and he looks away. Unsure of what to say, Rey steps forward and offers him her arm.
"I suppose it's the reception now?" She asks quietly. What does one even talk about with their husband?
It's not like he's a friend. Or even an ally. And when she gets her chance, she's going to kill him anyway, so really, what does she have to fear? Why can't she just say whatever she's thinking?
He gives her arm a cursory glance and then looks away, ignoring it.
"There's a small reception here," he says finally. "A larger one when we arrive on Solitass."
Rey nods, "Oh. I didn't realize there would be two."
He grimaces, "We'll just have to suffer through them both, I suppose."
She can't help the small half-smile that comment brings, "this must all be some sort of new First Order torture I'm unfamiliar with."
Did she imagine it? Did his mouth quirk slightly? She can't be sure because it returned to a firm line almost as quickly.
"The worst kind of torture," he quips. Was he joking? He was getting everything he wanted, wasn't he? What did he have to be upset about? It's infuriating.
"For one of us," she snaps. He scowls, biting his lip and looking away from her again.
"This way," he says, heading toward another hallway and not bothering to see if she follows.