Everything had changed. Her emotional and mental recovery was slow but it began after he carried her to bed. In a million years, the General never thought he'd have laid himself so bare like that for anyone; let alone a random woman that had just appeared on his ship one day. Then again, he never believed he would have reason to lay himself bare. She'd refused his offer of privacy and basically temporary freedom for a few days on Finalizer, declaring she'd rather be with him instead. If that didn't show him devotion, nothing would. Devotion he wasn't quite sure what to do with after what he'd done to her. What did he do with it?

He had to wonder was that refusal down to loyalty or was she just afraid to take it? As if she might incur a wrath from her master when she was reunited with him or even before? There weren't many cons to having Lucilla but reading her was one of them. It was impossible to know when she did or didn't want to do something; when something was or wasn't consensual and it struck him now that he must try harder to decipher it. He had thought it to himself on her second night on Finalizer and it would hinder this process somewhat: She was exceptionally well trained. She'd proved it the night he took her virginity (out of ignorance that she still had it) with minimum consideration and respect.

That particular incident had been obedience rather than consent, Hux knew that now. He knew that if given the choice, she probably would have said no. And why shouldn't she? Who would want to be taken by someone they didn't know and in such horrible circumstances and for such a pointless reason? More to the point because he felt he owned her? It wasn't fair. She knew it was going to happen and yet she had no power over it; something that would put her in pain and was probably a monumental moment in her life reduced to degradation and waiting in agony for it to be over. If he had the chance to do it all again, he would have done it differently. He wasn't sure how but he would have. He just didn't know how many of their nights had been of the same nature; doing what he bid her because he wanted her to.

The General remembered the night he'd bent her over his bed for the first time and not for that action, not in this particular case. He recalled it as the night she had expressed an emotion other than fear since her arrival and that was heartbreak. Thinking about it now, those were probably the only two emotions he had ever seen her display. He had never seen her genuinely happy. He couldn't not notice the way her face had fallen when he reminded her she didn't have a womb. That a possible key to happiness had been taken from her without her consent. The image was etched into his mind and there was no scrubbing it.

If she still had her womb and there were no precautions taken, there was no doubt she would be pregnant by now. That said; there was always contraception, there was always medication to curb her menstrual cycle. Reflecting on it, the more the cruelty of it made little sense. His initial coldness on the matter was revisited and even a fool could see she would have made a magnificent mother. Pregnancy would almost definitely suit her. She was so kind, gentle and patient with so much love to give; it was sinful to let that go to waste. He would have been a terrible father but she would probably have made up for it. A comfort, company, someone to curl up with at night, someone to care for them….. She was all those things for him already.

Finalizer and Starkiller were no places for children; what would he have done? Found some humble home to keep her in on some backwater planet? Would he have married her purely for legitimacy reasons? Maybe. Visit her occasionally and breed her when he got time? At least he mightn't be distracted on the bridge when looking forward to his evenings back in his quarters. He wouldn't be short of carriers for his name or his genes; that much would be certain. Their daughters would be chased; their sons would be admired; if they were anything like Lucilla, of course. The dark hair, blue eyes, pale skin and sweet disposition was a winning combination. If it had captured Hux's imagination and attention, it must have been special.

All these thoughts clamoured his head as he almost fretfully watched her sleep. The cut on her lip was just as clear and the patch under her eye darkened; regardless of if he was sorry or not. He still held her though; she hadn't said anything since she refused his offer of Finalizer.

"Lucilla?" She was a deep sleeper; he had gathered that much from when he got her. The eyelids flickered though and her body seemed to shift against his so he tried again. "Lucilla?" Like a blind being pulled up over a day lit window, Lucilla's big, clear blue eyes opened and it took a moment for her to realize that she was actually awake.

"Do you have to go?" The sleep-drenched Coruscanti twang asked and he assumed she meant leave for the bridge.

It was still only the early hours.

"Not yet, no." The same reluctance was present in his voice as when he'd spoken to her a few hours previous. He had complete faith in his feelings (however strange to him); he was just worried about wording them. Paranoia was a bitch.

"Lucilla, I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, General…. Of course…." She couldn't understand why he held her still as she tried to get up. Poor girl, she thought he wanted her to do something physical just then.

"Lie back down, Lucilla." Confused, she did as she was told and continued to regard him with curiosity though eye contact was always resisted.

"I just want you to promise me something." Promise him something?

"Yes, General? Anything." She expected another swearing of allegiance and he would get it, despite the events of the night before.

"I want you to promise me that if you ever find yourself not wanting to do something, you'll tell me." Lucilla stared as though unnerved by his request.

"I… I don't understand, General." How did she not understand? What else could he possibly mean? Was she that badly broken that she didn't realize she had a choice? He hadn't reinforced it in the last few months admittedly but he was trying to change that now.

How did he rephrase it? From looking at her face, she genuinely didn't know what he was talking about. She truly didn't know the difference between obedience and consent. In fact, there was no difference. There was no consent, only obedience. Dumbstruck, Hux tried to find a way to explain it but found it more difficult than he could have imagined.

"Lucilla…." He began uncertainly, releasing her and sitting up in the bed as if giving himself a distraction by giving himself something to do. "You know how we…. Spend our evenings? Usually in bed? After you remove my coat, my gloves and my boots?"

"Yes, General?" That was something. He wouldn't have to go into too much detail.

The endearing look of curiosity still embraced those beautiful features. It was frightening how something so simple could be so alien to her.

"Well….. Those things we do…. You don't have to do them." Her confusion hadn't changed or lessened in any way. It intensified if anything.

"But…. You want those things." This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

"Yes…. But…. I can never be sure that you do." Lucilla was quiet but it didn't take away from the fact that this idea was foreign to her, her training was still pristine.

"It doesn't matter what I want." Hux had to lie back down almost out of strained frustration.

"Lucilla." The significantly smaller female was gathered up again but she wasn't so uncomfortable this time around. "Look at me." She did but only to the extent that she normally did. "No, look at me properly." She hesitated so a hand was slipped under her chin to guide her gaze directly up to his. It was a very strange connection. It almost felt wrong to her; eye contact was sacred, it wasn't for her to have but yet here he was, insisting on it. "It does matter." He countered gently, their different shades of blues connecting. "From now on, you must tell me if you're not comfortable with something or if you don't want to do it. And I swear I won't make you."

Lucilla held his gaze despite everything she'd been taught and he found it to be incredibly charming for whatever reason. Hesitantly, he was given a small nod.

"I promise." Relief. Mostly for the General. The smears of blood on the backs of her thighs that night had stirred something terrible and at least now he could try and rectify it.

"We're to return to Finalizer in the next few days." He informed her, off topic. As if the whole out of character conversation hadn't just happened. "My inspections are almost finished. The next few days will be intense but I know you'll be patient."

"Always, General."

She kept her word. She wouldn't allow him to slip again. She gave him room to collect himself but she would step in before it got too far. He knew now what her intentions were, how his best interests lay in her heart and he wouldn't punish her for it again. She saw the looks of regret and grief that took over his pale features whenever his eyes graced the purplish blue mark that had developed under her eye. Her lip healed more quickly but she made every effort to mask the bruise with a more intense make-up routine. At least until it disappeared completely.

The night before they returned to Finalizer, he was almost in the same state he was when he lashed out at her. Lucilla left the bedroom just after midnight, barely an hour after he sent her to bed. Her General was still sitting at the desk, half-heartedly pouring over documents and reports and holopads. She approached him without fear and gently stretched her arm across his broad chest from behind. Almost instinctively, he leaned back against her with a frustrated exhale; his head resting against her torso with his eyes closed. His still gloved hand closed around her arm but not in a threatening or aggressive fashion, more like a yearning for support.

"That's enough for tonight." Came the beautiful, patient breath that he was more than happy to hear, accompanied by a light kiss against his exhausted temple.

"You're right…." He murmured, lightly stroking her arm before relinquishing it and starting to move to where she wanted him to go. "You're right. I'm coming." She waited, knowing he would try to stretch out his work if she went in ahead. He followed her without protest and she helped him undress though their usual night time activities were on hold as usual when he nearly worked himself into the ground. Though their heads were equal on the pillow, under the sheets the tips of her toes barely graced halfway down his shins. Grateful for the rescue, his dark haired companion was held as she had been the past few nights and he found it far easier to sleep.