A Galaxy is Not Enough

Chapter 10: A Half-Truth

Playlist

In My Veins – Feat. Erin McCarley, Andrew Belle

Surrender – Natalie Taylor

Armor – Landon Austin

Hero – Feat. Christina Perri, Cash Cash

Strawberries & Cigarettes – Troye Sivan

I can't Carry This Anymore – Anson Seabra

Older – Sasha Sloan

I'll Be Good – Jaymes Young

Broken Ones (With Anna Clendening) – Illenium Ascend

Take on the World – You Me at Six

Fire N Gold – Bea Miller

Then.

The newly appointed Grand Marshal Armitage Hux stood stoically watching as one officer after another knelt before the Emperor, pledging their allegiance and fealty. Hux had already done so some time ago. And even though it had not provided him with the same level of impetus as when he first dedicated his life to the First Order, it did endow him with a certain amount of satisfaction.

He was alive, and Kylo Ren was not. He had seen it. All of it and because of it, he had cowed to the new Emperor.

Foolish Ren. Always thinking he could outmatch his opponent. If only Ren had been smart enough to wait. Patience was a virtue after all, and one Hux had in spades.

Idiotic Ren. After all, the Emperor wouldn't have taken over had Ren not been a dolt who provoked and prodded everyone around him, much like he did with Hux. There was a delicate balance before, of Ren raging and Hux trying to make him see sense. But what more could Hux do? He didn't possess the mystical force powers; he couldn't persuade Ren to not be an idiot.

And now here he was. A Grand Marshal. The Emperor's hand. And what was Ren? He was dead.

It gave him a surge of frustration. He'd wanted this title, this responsibility, but he'd also wanted Ren alive to witness it. Where was the satisfaction when one's rival was no longer there to shove it in their face?

He frowned, he'd gotten what he'd wanted, but somehow the victory was a hollow one.

Now.

Rey awoke slowly, disoriented and groggy she blinked, trying to concentrate. The room she was in her seemed to move nauseatingly, and she closed her eyes again. Her head throbbed dully as she sat up, eyes bleary and unfocused.

What happened?

She wasn't in the room any longer—well— she was in a room, but it was not the room she'd collapsed in. It appeared that she was lying on a bed in the medical wing of the Galactus.

It was a bare room, sterile and full of medical equipment, though she didn't see any medical droids at the moment. Instead, there was only one other person in the room with her.

Seated in the corner on a stiff-looking chair, sat her husband. His arms were folded over his chest, and a deep frown was etched onto his handsome features. He looked her over with a cold, assessing glare and scowled.

"Good, you're awake," he said dryly. "How do you feel?"

No sympathy, not even a hint of the softness she'd seen earlier that day. He was angry with her. That much she could tell. And realistically, she knew he had every right to be.

Rey blinked again and blushed. It was embarrassing to be found in such a state, how had she gotten to the medical wing? The last thing she remembered was a familiar voice behind her. But it hadn't been Hux's voice she'd heard.

"What happened?" She replied, not answering his question.

Hux chewed on his lip and looked at her with those green, penetrating eyes. He swallowed and leaned back in his chair as if waiting for her to answer him before he replied to her.

She conceded first, "my head hurts."

"That's to be expected. Though you don't have a concussion," he said briskly, a note of weariness in each word. "Why were you sneaking around and hacking into our systems? If you can't be trusted on your own, I'll have no choice but to assign you a guard."

Or perhaps the slight tremor wasn't weariness, but betrayal or disbelief? Had she betrayed his trust? Not that she cared about his trust, but shouldn't he know that she was a Rebel and a rebel first? Or maybe he really had begun to trust her, and here she was destroying all that hard work.

It didn't matter. She was going to kill him. She had to. She was going to avenge Ben and set things right.

Unless. . . unless he didn't kill Ben. Then what was she to do with him?

Leaning back against the soft pillows of the bed, Rey closed her eyes, trying to will the headache to disappear. But it didn't go away. She took a measured breath.

"I was looking for the answers," she replied slowly, unsure of how much she should reveal. But her head throbbed too much for her to care at this point.

"Answers?" Hux asked. He was suddenly attentive, rising from his chair and pacing in front of her bed, hands clasped behind his back. "Answers to what?"

Rey forced herself to sit up, even though she felt so tired. She needed to look him in the eye when she asked. She had to gauge his reaction.

"I need to know what happened to Ben Solo."

Hux halted, staring at her. His face a mess of confusion, like he was trying to calculate a mathematical problem but was missing most of the numbers.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know how he died. What happened, who killed him." She replied with annoyance. This was beginning to frustrate her.

"Yes, I understand that. I mean, why should you care?" Hux said, looking down at her from where he stood. "He tried to kill you. He kidnapped you. He tortured you. I don't understand why you should even—."

"It doesn't matter why," she snapped, not caring to explain anything further. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to think about it. It was too painful. It hurt too much to recall the softness in Ben's eyes when she'd told him about her plunge into the cave. "I just want—need-to know."

She waited for a moment, eyes wet and gleaming before she said, "please."

Hux studied her cautiously. He couldn't imagine why she should care so much. General Organa, now that was another matter. Of course, General Organa might want to know what had happened to her son. But Rey?

"It matters quite a bit," he answered carefully. "I need to know your motivation before I can decide if I should tell you what happened. If it is simply for your knowledge and nothing more, then I shall tell you. But if you have some ulterior motive, it's best that you tell me. I don't take kindly to lies."

She swallowed and looked down.

"It's for me. I just, I need to know what happened."

He couldn't fathom it. Perhaps she merely needed the reassurance that Ben Solo had died, the way he deserved. That Hux could understand. There were many in his life he'd had the pleasure of disposing of. Many who had tortured him, bullied him and pushed him to do it. And although he did take a sort of pleasure in the removal of those persons, he knew the act was also necessary for his own survival.

It couldn't hurt to tell her how Ben Solo had suffered. This might even bring them together? Ren had wounded Hux as well. Surely, they had this in common. Maybe she might look at him as a hero and not the coward he knew he was. He sucked in a breath and took a few steps forward, till he reached the edge of the bed. Raising a brow, he gestured to the bed, and when Rey nodded, he seated himself.

The bed dipped slightly under Hux's weight, and he settled himself, leaning back on both his hands. It was oddly intimate to Rey. He cleared his throat again before he turned to look at her, and his eyes softened.

"Where would you like me to start?" He asked slowly, one hand moving to rest over hers.

It was the perfect picture of a man trying to console someone, but she knew it was all an act. He could feign interest or sympathy, but she didn't believe he felt it. Not right now anyway.

"After he became Supreme Leader," Rey replied, her voice coming out hoarse and strange. It was difficult to get the words out. "He stayed Supreme Leader for some time, how did he get overthrown?"

Hux looked down and licked his lips, "like any leader, there were those who—disliked—his style of leadership. Several of his own knights in fact. There were murmurings of an uprising, Ren seemed to volatile and so easily upset. Many were afraid of him. But fear breeds desperation."

"So, there was a coup?"

She'd assumed as much. But she needed to know who, who was responsible for this aching wound leftover from a severed Force bond.

"A coup, yes," Hux replied with a nod. "I was there when it happened. When he died. There was a battle. He fought three or four of his own knights. And one, well, one ran him through with his own lightsaber."

Hux grimaced, "it was a messy business. I saw him fall—there wasn't any blood. But the sounds he made—it must've been—agonizing."

Some little bit of pride swelled inside him as he retold the story. Surely, she must want to know that Ren suffered for what he'd done to her? He was careful to leave out details, the Emperor's appearance, why the Knights had turned on Ren. It wasn't the information she needed anyway.

Rey let out a long breath and reached an arm up to wipe her face.

Tears? Was she really so relieved at Kylo Ren's death?

"So, it wasn't you?" She asked quietly.

"What wasn't me?"

"The one who killed him. It wasn't you?"

"Unfortunately, I didn't have the pleasure."

"Which Knight was it?" Her voice wavered as she spoke.

Hux studied her for a moment before he replied, "What does it matter who killed him? Isn't it enough that he's dead?"

He wasn't sure why he hesitated to tell her. It was information that didn't seem quite so important, why shouldn't he just tell her? But his intuition somehow deemed it necessary to make her work for this knowledge. She'd obviously found it valuable enough to try hacking in the First Order systems. It was important to her, so he needed to know why.

"Please," she repeated, reaching to cover his hand and squeezing it.

He looked down at their hands, stacked on top of each other, and his fingers stiffened. It looked as if he was going to pull his hand away when he suddenly let it slacken and turned fully toward Rey. With his free hand, he tenderly cupped the side of her face.

"He can't hurt you anymore," he said softly. "Whatever he did to you, he can't do it anymore. And even if he was alive, I wouldn't let him hurt you. You're my wife now, and I take that role very seriously."

"It's not that. . ." She replied, letting the words trail off as she fidgeted.

"What is it then?"

Rey stared into his penetrating green eyes for a moment and then let her gaze fall to those full lips. She remembered how soft they felt and how—she'd leaned into him—and suddenly, her face felt very hot, and her heart was pounding again.

She shook her head, she needed to focus.

"I want to know who killed him," she repeated, eyes pleading with him, face flushed and beautiful. He wanted to lean down and kiss her, to dry the tears she hadn't yet cried, and to tell her that he would protect her. She brought that out in him somehow. She made him want to—to be someone else—someone who she could want. Someone who could sweep her off her feet and make her smile and bring her happiness.

But he didn't. He couldn't. The same thing in him that told him to do all these things also rationalized that she was playing him, he was foolish. That he was an idiot for falling victim to her charms and beauty. Because if he let someone in—then they would only use their position to wound him. As so many had before.

And he would not let that happen again.

Knowing that he was not going to allow himself to feel anything more for her reminded him, he didn't just give information away for free. There was a price. If she wanted something from him, she would need to provide him with something he wanted in return. But what did he want from her?

"I'll tell you," he assured. "I'll tell you everything, but not now. Not when you're lying in the medical ward. Perhaps once you've returned home and feel better."

He needed to buy himself some time to figure out precisely what she would be willing to trade for such information. Or possibly to determine what it was that he needed from her.

She nodded slowly, still letting his hand trace the side of her cheek.

"At least tell me who found me and brought me here?" She whispered, embarrassed.

He stiffened, hesitating before speaking, "well, one of the Knights found you. I believe you already met Veserra Ren. She carried you back to the infirmary."

"Carried me?"

"That's correct." Hux nodded.

"Oh," Rey said, but she didn't speak further, and Hux took it as a sign that there was nothing more to discuss and pulled away.

Upon Hux's insistence, Rey was transported back to their quarters using a hover chair. Though she felt she was fully capable of walking, Hux had given her a look that invited no questions and gestured to the hover chair.

Unfortunately, once they arrived, Rey realized that the hover chair would not fit in the small kitchenette or the living area. So she slowed the chair and began to rise.

A heavy hand fell onto her shoulder, keeping her from moving. Before she realized what had happened, she was lifted gently.

Hux pulled her up and into his arms and then halted for a second to readjust her weight before continuing into their living quarters. He was firm, and she found herself resting her head against his shoulder and enjoying the smell of his cologne. He smelled so clean and so—something else, she didn't know what to call it. But she liked the smell of it. It made her cheeks heat, bringing back the memory of that kiss. She wondered if it was only because it was their first kiss that it had felt so good.

Would a second kiss feel the same?

He brought her into the bedroom and slowly laid her onto the bed. Then he bent over her and pulled the covers up to her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, feeling strangely awkward that this was the third time a member of the First Order had carried her like this.

"Of course," he replied matter of fact. "Are you hungry or tired?"

"Both," she confessed. "And I'd like to use the fresher—"

She noticed the bright pink shade Hux's ears had turned before she even finished her sentence.

"I can manage by myself," she continued, trying to keep him at ease.

He licked his lips and looked away, fixating on the wall, "I'm not sure that's wise. I can help you in—place a stool in there for you—I won't look."

Rey hesitated, there was something else in his eyes, even though he was looking away, she caught the far-off stare and dark-hooded eyes. There was something bothering him, something he wanted to say, but instead, he swallowed and sighed and then looked back at her.

"You don't have to do it alone," he continued, his voice strangely hoarse. "I'll help you. But, only as much as you're comfortable."

"Okay," she agreed before he pulled her out of bed and carried her to the fresher.

It was a painstaking ordeal for Hux, his back felt little pins and needles every time he lifted her, but he couldn't say anything. Why bother? On top of that, he had to help her out of her clothing to ready her for the fresher, which was difficult to do this while he tried not to look.

He still couldn't help that his gaze lingered on the bare skin of her back before he looked away and dutifully helped her find a seat on the stool he'd placed in the fresher. His whole body had gone rigid at the mere thought of what she might look like naked. So, it required an immense amount of self-control to stare straight ahead and not even allow his traitorous eyes to piece together the blurry images from his peripheral vision.

He left her in the fresher by herself and ordered their dinner, even though it was far too late for the kitchens to be open. It didn't matter. They would open back up for the Grand Marshal.

Rey showered for what felt like an entire cycle before Hux heard the water shutoff, and then he held out a towel for her, all the while studying the dark inlaid tiles inside the fresher.

When she was finished with the fresher, he wrapped her in his own robe and lifted her back up. Cursing in his head at the twinge of pain in his back. He really ought to have that back pain checked out.

"I'll have your clothing cleaned," he assured her before he laid her back down on the bed. He was trying not to think of the fact that she was only wearing his robe and nothing else. He willed his face to remain neutral as he pulled the bedding up and over to cover her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, finally letting his eyes rest on her face. "Dinner will be here shortly."

Then he left her alone.

He had to get away, he needed space. From her. From everything about her. It was too much, and he'd only barely been able to repress the urge to tug the robe down and see all of her. He'd never been a man much controlled by his impulses, but for some reason, when it came to her, he could barely keep himself in check. When he looked at her face, his only thought was of kissing her, and when he looked at the rest of her, he had to remove himself because all the images that came to mind made him stiffen.

A drink. Yes, or something stronger, that's what he needed.

But even a drink and a stim did nothing to wash away the yearning that had built steadily over the past two days. He wanted her, but to what end. He couldn't be sure.

When dinner finally arrived, Hux had managed to rid himself of the insidious thoughts that had clouded his mind all day. The only thing that was able to pull her image from his mind was the tedious delirium of paperwork, and so he buried himself in it.

But when the food came, he was forced to see her again. Though he was able to make the encounter brief, only bringing her food and then collecting the empty trays once she was finished.

After that, he confined himself to his office to work until it was far too late, and he absolutely needed to go to bed. Otherwise, he was doubtful he'd get any sleep tonight.

Back in the room, he found her, asleep in the bed, still wearing nothing but his robe. She looked so peaceful with hair strewn about the pillow and mouth slightly open. Looking at her like this, he felt a rush of longing. He wasn't entirely sure for what.

She was so beautiful, splayed out in his bed. His breathing hitched as he reached out a finger and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. How had he been so lucky as to find himself wed to such a creature?

Surely if he had chosen a bride for himself, he would've picked someone just like this. He could only hope. He wasn't sure. She was stunning, regardless of what she wore, he couldn't look away from her.

Forcing himself to retreat, he used the fresher and readied himself for bed. Before he climbed under the covers, he hesitated and then removed his shirt. Rey was already asleep, and he didn't like sleeping with a shirt on anyway. What could it hurt anyway?

Stretching out under the blankets, he yawned and closed his eyes, only to open them again and glance at the sleeping form of his wife. He drifted to sleep, thinking of her.

In sleep, Rey found no rest. Swimming images, red and black blurs of shapes she could not name. Rey tossed and turned, unable to escape the terrifying visages that haunted her dreams. Something sinister lurked in the dark recesses of her mind, and she could not leave it behind.

Then she saw him. Ben Solo. Not Kylo Ren. He stood in his Jedi robes, speaking with another boy. She reached out to him to Ben, but the image swirled until he disappeared, and Kylo Ren was in his place.

Kylo faced a hooded figure, a crooked and cloaked phantom. He stooped and leaned forward, bowing down. But it wasn't Snoke. She had no memory of this. Past or present. She stepped forward to see more but found her limbs were weighted down. She tried to call out, but she had no voice.

It was then she felt the prickle at the back of her head and whirled around.

A ghostly touch pervaded her mind, sending daggers of pain from her head to her toes. It reminded her of when Snoke had entered her mind forcefully, and she screamed in terror and anguish.

Then another ghoul clasped a cold palm over her mouth, and she lashed out, striking blindly and hitting something real and solid.

She should've stopped when she felt bone and flesh, but she didn't.

Rey groaned in her sleep, causing Hux to sigh and rollover. He pulled a pillow over his head, attempting to deafen the noises coming from his wife. He needed silence to sleep and sharing a bed with someone who talked in their sleep and grunted was not the least bit helpful. Regularly, he was only able to obtain three or four hours of sleep at most. Obviously, it was incredibly hard to stay asleep with such a boisterous bedfellow.

He sat up, unable to return to slumber, and glared at Rey. His furrowed brow instantly fell away to worry. Rey lay, sweaty and panting as she tossed and cried in her sleep, shaking violently. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was being tortured.

Hux looked around anxiously, unsure if he should wake her or let her be. But then the room began to vibrate, and every piece of furniture that wasn't screwed into the durasteel ship began to rattle and tremble.

"Rey," he called quietly. She still didn't respond, and something fell from the bookshelves to crash into the floor. "Rey!"

The bed dipped and lifted off the ground, shaking slightly as it rose.

"Rey, wake up!" Hux all but screamed, frantic now as he reached to grip her arm and wake her with a shake.

She screamed loudly, and he clamped his hand over her mouth, afraid his guards would hear and rush into the room. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to hear about this. No doubt, his mother would hold something like this over his head, and he didn't need her finding out about Rey having a fit in his bed. Moreover, he was loathed to deal with the rumors, though he knew there were always rumors.

The bed dropped suddenly, hitting the floor and almost sending Hux over the edge. But he pulled Rey around, trying to keep her from falling when her knee flew out of nowhere, hitting him in the stomach. He nearly retched at the unexpected impact. A fist connected with his face then, and her other hand pried his fingers from her mouth.

And then his arms were twisted painfully behind him, and he was pulled around and pressed, face first, into the bed.

Panic flooded his senses. He'd been in situations like this before, long ago. His whole body flooded with adrenaline before he was jerked around again and met with a knee to the throat, pinning him down.

He didn't move, afraid she might use the Force to crush his throat. She glared down at him, one knee pressed into his esophagus and the other pinning his arm. The robe had come undone and was splayed open, giving a Hux an all too vivid picture of his wife.

They lay there, shaking and panting as they stared at each other.

"Are you awake now?" He asked, his voice coming out barely above a whisper.

She blinked down at him, finally seeing him and not the phantom in her dream. Relief flooded her, followed by embarrassment and shame. She'd attacked him, and he'd only been trying to wake her from a nightmare.

"Oh, Armitage, I—I'm so sorry, I had a dream, and—I didn't mean to hurt you."

Quickly, she removed her knee from his throat and leaned back from him. Hux lay very still for a fraction of a second before he shifted, moving faster than Rey had thought him capable. He flipped her around and onto her back, one hand gripping her by the throat lightly. His legs rested on either side of her hips.

"If you ever attack me like that again," he said, voice unsteady and eyes wild, "I cannot be held responsible for what I might do."

He squeezed her throat meaningfully but lightly as his eyes met hers. She stared up at him with wide hazel eyes, and his hand shook slightly before he trailed his thumb down her neck to the hollow of her throat. She followed his gaze as it lingered over her bare skin, his jaw ticking before he swallowed.

Someone, long ago, had hurt him. She could tell. It was written in his eyes, in the wet gleam of them and the shaking of his hands and the set of his jaw. She could read it there, only because she knew the look so well.

She, too, had been hurt, had suffered some unspeakable injury and it had left a gaping hole inside her. One she wasn't sure she could ever fill.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she whispered. "I was dreaming—I didn't mean to."

Hux didn't move, his mouth formed a firm line, but his eyes softened slightly.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered, her hands going to Hux's, which still rested on her throat. He allowed her to peel his fingers off slowly one by one.

Then she gently laced her fingers through his own and squeezed them.

His face remained an impassive mask, but she felt the hard warmth of his body against her. And not just the force of his thighs and hands, but also the thick length of him, which pressed firmly against her stomach.

The feel of it, of him, made her entire body come alive, thrumming with some need she couldn't describe. An all-consuming want to pull him down and feel his bare skin against her own.

Hux hadn't been the one who killed Ben, he'd told her that. And she believed him. Somehow it eased the guilt she felt as she leaned up to kiss him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I have been so busy moving and trying to buy a house. If it closes soon, I will have space to write! Hopefully it all goes smoothly, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story. And thank you all so much for your kind reviews. It means so much to me!

Best,

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