Chapter 13: An Officer and a Gentleman
Summary:
Hux prepares himself for a night out as Ren collects on their wager.
[excerpt]:
"An apology begins to form, but dies quickly on his lips as the woman turns around at the noise, her vivid blue eyes widening in equal surprise.
'Well I'll be drafted,' Hux thought, the heat flushing to his face, his heart in his throat."
Notes:
As some of you know, I love writing Hux, in all his various iterations. When the recent canon revelation of Armitage Hux's backstory coincided with the writing of this chapter, I couldn't help but incorporate some of the information into his storyline. There is no Reylo, but I hope you will indulge me in this interlude.
So here it is, for all the Gentleman Hux fans...
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
Of those who really love their sons, few know how to do it. Some spoil them when they are young, and then quarrel with them when they are grown up, for having been spoiled; some love them like mothers, and attend only to the bodily health and strength of the hopes of their family, solemnize his birthday, and rejoice, like the subjects of the Great Mogul, at the increase of his bulk: while others, minding, as they think, only essentials, take pains and pleasure to see in their heir, all their favourite weaknesses and imperfections
-Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield
What in the blazes is wrong with you? Hux asked himself nervously as he brought the ends of his cravat towards the front, slipping the left piece over the right and pulling it through the gap.
His fingers worked quickly to tighten the knot. He had finished a light supper of boiled meat and fish with one of the other officers at the Steven's Hotel when Mitaka had informed him that Lord Ren was unavoidably delayed, with the additional instructions that Lord Hux should meet him in the Organa-Solo private box at the Royal Theatre instead.
There was a goodly chance that Hux would be late as well, with what little time there was left to traverse the crowds between Bond and Bow Streets before the opening curtain. Hux's punctuality and fastidiousness were always qualities in which he took great pride, despite Ren's frequent teasing that he would always remain a staunch cove.
The thought of his friend brought about a smile. Ren was well-known for his wicked sense of humor, a quality apparent as early as their school days at Westminster, where Kylo's exploits had stood out even in a sea of unruly behavior. It was often that the future Marchess would find himself on the receiving end of a reprimand and some overwrought hand wringing from their embattled Headmaster as a result of his actions. Given Ren's delight in the element of surprise, Hux was sure that tonight's events would have been thought out in advance as well.
Perhaps he would allow himself to truly indulge in Ren's plans, just this once. Although Hux had experienced the pleasures of being with a woman for more than his fair share, he never had the penchant for the libidinous excesses which attracted so many of his peers. He had also recently turned twenty nine, and was of an age where his elder brother and a good many of his fellow officers were already thinking of, or had started families of their own.
Fear and sorrow can destroy many a lesser man, especially when one is exposed to a wealth of it from the unimaginable horrors of war. There are different ways in which a person may try to forget: some soliders attempt to escape through their cups, while others may shag and shive their way through town. But Hux could never find relief in such actions, for in the morning, he was still left saddled with his memories and his feelings and his inescapable sense of self.
Hux closed his eyes, Ren's words from the night before echoing through his mind.
Why deny yourself the pleasures in life when they are so readily available?
Hux looked out the bedroom window. The lamplighters were already out with their step ladders and long poles, rubbing their hands together as the street corners began to take on a yellow and fuzzy glow. The late March night air was still brazenly cold. Hux threw on his overcoat and gloves, his stomach clenching in nervous anticipation as he stepped out of the hotel and turned the corner, on his way towards Covent Garden.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
The musicians were already settled into the pit by the time Hux arrived. He racked his memory for Ren's box— third tier, left of center—and headed towards the secondary stairs. As he passed the loge type boxes of the first and second circles, the notes of the reedy oboes and breathy flutes swelled along with the open-stringed "A's," the crescendoing sounds of the tuning instruments rising through the air to fill out the elliptical semi-dome.
Hux reached the his destination, just underneath the fourth tier with its two-shilling rooms and side pigeon holes. The recently built private boxes were beautifully equipped, with their high ceilings and anterooms, painted in a soft grey instead of the typical pink and further decorated with the same fancy drapery which adorned the back of the pit and its fluted iron columns.
He pulled open the mahogany door, his eyes adjusting to the change in the light. He frowned when he noticed the other occupant who was turned towards and avidly watching the stage; it was not Ren's tall and imposing masculine figure, but rather an elegant and decidedly feminine one, clad in a lavendar silken gown, her luscious russet locks gleaming even in the muted light.
An apology begins to form, but dies quickly on his lips as the woman turns around at the noise, her vivid blue eyes widening in equal surprise.
Well I'll be drafted, Hux thought, the heat flushing to his face, his heart in his throat.
Hux's voice has commanded the behaviors of hundreds of men and inspired their unquestioning loyalties, but what comes out now is quavering and uncertain instead.
"Madame de Montespan," Hux bowed. "A pleasure to see you once again."
He faltered. Hux is not sure when Ren will actually arrive, but it would be impolite to seat himself apart from her when they are the only two here so close to the start of the show. He chose the chair immediately to her left and settled himself down.
"Bonsoir, Lord Hux," Isabelle greeted him delightedly. "What a pleasant surprise. Are you also a fan of Mozart, or the opera buffa?"
"I enjoy both, although I must admit that my presence here was at the behest of Ren." He took in the circle parapets with their golden palmettes and the glass and gilted chandeliers which projected from the tiers.
"The recent renovations to the theater are not the only beautiful things here tonight. You look lovely, Isabelle."
A becoming blush suffused the cream-colored tone of her cheeks at his flattery.
"C'est vraiment gentil de ta part."
They settled in their seats as the strains of the overture filled the theater.
"I am looking forward to this," whispered Isabelle eagerly. "Mistaken identities, infidelity, and jealous lovers. I am surprised that the Royal Theatre finally gave in to performing this work, given its scandalous nature and your delicate British sensibilities."
Hux smiled in agreement, watching the stage. The actors were gathered in front of an outdoor café, arguing in favor of their fiancées' loyalty against a cynical Don Alfonso.
"Hmmm," frowned Isabelle "Così fan tutte. Do you believe that to be true? That 'Women are like that?'"
"It is interesting that they are arguing over a woman's capacity for fidelity," Hux replied slowly over the soaring baritone and tenor notes. "When, in my experience, men may be as equally careless with their affections."
Isabelle turned to watch him interestingly. "I agree, my Lord. Allthough I must add that if one is lucky enough to find a love worth having, it is something to be cherished and protected, no matter what temptations may lay in one's path. 'Si l'amour n'est qu'une illusion, alors qu'est-ce que la réalité?'"
She watched as Hux's eyes widened in surprise, before he quickly schooled his expression. Her laugh was both knowing and sad. She realized that Hux was reacting to her dalliances with Ren, as well as with other men.
"Ahh. Perhaps you think me hypocritical, that a woman such as myself could hold such romantic ideals?"
"Forgive me, Isabelle," Hux blushed, not denying her observation. "But you are intelligent and well-informed, and there is no denying your beauty. You must be used to having men fall at your feet; surely you could find someone to love, if that is the reality you seek?"
Isabelle lowered her head and glanced back towards the stage. "If only it were so simple."
Her voice grew soft, her eyes distant. "Many of the rumors which have been said about me are true. My mother was a favorite in the French court. I was only nine when we escaped to England during the Révolution française, mere months before Louis-Auguste was desacralized and guillotined. As much as the English love French fashion and culture, the same cannot be said about a French expatriate. Even as my mother attempted to rebuild our lives, we would always be looked upon as an outsider.
"And so I chose to embrace my role as a member of the demimonde. I have learned to enjoy the influence I wield-over the arts, dress, and yes, even over men-at a time when so many women have such little. I may not be considered a marriageable commodity, but I enjoy a grand life and with grand company, or at least until the next 'fashionable impure' comes along."
She looked up at Hux, daring his censure. His green eyes softened with sympathy.
"Is that so wrong, my Lord? To be able to enjoy the pleasures and benefits of polite society, when I am denied that which I desire the most?"
She looked back down. It was a refrain which she had long repeated. She knew who she was, but she was also not a fool, and although she enjoyed her relationships with men, knew that it was a poor substitute for love.
Hux understood Isabelle's predicament more than she realized. He took in her delicate features, her head now held high, her beautifully expressive eyes so lively yet wistful. He longed to reach out and take her hands into his own and reassure her that she was deserving of such love.
Instead, he kept his arms properly to his side.
"As your countryman once eloquently wrote, 'Le prix d'Amour, c'est seulement Amour.' And to me, love is a price worth paying. It is something which all of us should be rich enough to deserve."
Isabelle smiled, and they sat there in a comfortable silence as they watched the action on stage. It was only at the end of the first act, when the curtain descended and the noise of the crowd grew, that Hux heard a knock on the door and realized that Ren had not yet shown.
"Lord Hux." Mitaka entered, handing Hux a note in Ren's familiar script.
My dear Hux,
I regret that I will not be able to join you and Mme. de Montespan this evening. I understand that you have already accepted the invitation to the event of my choosing, thus fulfilling the terms of our wager. But please know that what I truly choose-what I hope for-is for my closest friend to finally allow himself the happiness which he deserves.
~Ren
Hux looked up from the note at Isabelle, her eyebrow quizzically raised.
"Lord Ren will not be joining us tonight, will he?"
"No," Hux answered, realizing at that very moment that he may have been he one to win their bet, after all.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
Hux remained close to Isabelle's side as they exited the theater following the show. Although Isabelle lived nearby in a neighborhood inhabited by many of the actors and actresses, Covent Garden was also home to many notable prostitutes, and close to the rough and impoverished West End.
Isabelle glanced up at the tall man next to her, her breath escaping in warm tendrils into the crisp, nighttime air.
"Thank you for walking me home, my Lord. Are you certain you are not embarrassed to do so? A Lieutenant General of the Royal Army, conspiring with the enemy?" She kept her voice light and teasing, but there was an underlying sadness, as if she feared the truth of her statement.
"I have learned not to define a person by their country of origin, Isabelle. I have seen both the good and the bad in men, in situations where loyalties and truths can too easily falter to put too much stock in uncontrollable circumstances such as one's birthplace when assessing one's character."
She watched him, his hair a deeper red in the streetlamp's yellow glow. His jaw was set, and there was a faraway look in his eyes, which made her think that his comment was of a more personal nature, and possibly a painful one. She decided to divert the conversation back to something more immediate and familiar.
She allowed herself to be forward. "Forgive my boldness, my lord. How is it that a handsome gentleman such as yourself finds himself walking with les Grandes Horizontales instead of with a lover, or perhaps a family to return home to?"
He remained initially quiet, and Isabelle is suddenly filled with the sinking sensation that she had overstepped her bounds despite her earlier confessions regarding her own life. Her anxiety decreased slightly as he finally began to speak.
"Bold, to be certain, but a fair question." Hux smiled faintly.
"I suppose I have not devoted the necessary time for that side of my personal life," he continued. "My dedications have lay elsewhere for so long; first, to my father, and then to my lessons, and eventually to the military.
"My father was an influential man: the 1st Earl of Corellia, and a member of the Irish peerage. He was charismatic, and known to be extremely persuasive and charming when necessary. Unfortunately, he did not see fit to extend these qualities to his family very often.
"I am the second surviving son. As my older brother was first in line to inherit my father's earldom, my father had suggested that I follow in Wellesley's footsteps to become a commissioned officer of the British Army after I had completed my studies."
"Was this something which you desired as well?" Isabelle asked.
Hux took a deep breath. "In as much as I had wanted to please my father, yes. And once I was commissioned, I found myself well suited for the life." That much was true; although Hux had entered active service initially through purchase, his rapid promotion through the ranks were based solely on his skills, literacy and merit.
Isabelle had no doubt that his high-ranking position at such a young age was due to a combination of ambition and competence. Hux understood her train of thought, and clarified.
"When I mentioned that I was well-suited, it was not just because of my ability to lead," he stated without a hint of pride. "I know that many of our soldiers enlisted under questionable circumstances; why else would they subject themselves to such a severe life if there were more attractive options available to them? And yes, I have heard the names called out to them in spite-scum of the earth; rogues; drunkards. Yet it is among these very men that I have felt perhaps the most at home."
Isabelle reached out, her fingers gently resting on his arm. She was relieved when Hux did not shy away from her brazen touch.
"Perhaps Syrus said it best: 'It matters not who you are thought to be, but what you are,'" she said quietly.
The words and truth came rushing out of Hux after that, things from his past which were well-hidden and known to only a few, yet which he could not help but now share.
"The truth is that I am no different from so many of them. I may have a title, but I am also a bastard, albeit one who has been protected by my family's influence and secrecy."
He watched as Isabelle kept her features placid, without a show of judgment or pity, waiting for him to continue.
"I think I might have suspected myself, even when I was very young. I had my father's coloring: his copper hair, and the green of his eyes, yet I looked nothing like my brothers or sisters, with their darker coloring and blue eyes." He hesitated. "My siblings look the very picture of my father's wife."
"When I was older, I heard the rumors. That I was a bastard child, born out of one of my father's numerous indiscretions, the product of a dalliance with a young scullery maid. Lady Hux was also pregnant at the time; however she had suffered a miscarriage somewhere around her fourth month, and likely under some degree of duress, covered her loss and accepted me as her son upon my birth.
"I have tried for so long to please my parents-to be accepted despite my birth status, although I remained somewhat of an outsider, to my father, and certainly to the lady of the house." Hux quickly continued upon seeing Isabelle's frown. "She never treated my cruelly, however I don't think she could ever see me as anything but a constant reminder of one of my father's many faults."
"For my entire life, I have tried to please my father, to hold steadfast to his wishes for who he wanted me to be, as if it would add credence to my legitimacy, and justify his decision to keep me as one of his rightful heirs. But in doing so, I seem to have maintained my loyalties to everyone—my family, my country- but myself.
"It is one of the reasons why I value my friendship with Ren. He is one of the few who knows of the circumstances of my birth, yet he has never seen nor treated me as anyone less than himself. And he reminds me, in so many ways, of my life outside of these confines, of the things which I occasionally hold important to myself."
They reached the modest but tasteful townhouse where Isabelle was renting an apartment on one of the upper floors, close to the retail stores and coffee house at the end of the street. They stood outside in the cold, their breaths puffing out in faint clouds into the air, visible under the light.
Isabelle was reluctant to loosen her grasp, despite the increasing cold. She was familiar with the ways of men, and noted the longing and hesitation in Hux's eyes. She caught the reluctance in his posture as he bid her good night, his lips pressing to the back of her hand and lingering for a fraction too long.
She had desired the General for as long as she could remember, from the moment Lord Ren had introduced him at Hatchard's bookshop in Picadilly. The three had headed to Fortnum's afterwards to pick up some dried fruits and teas, and Hux had treated her with the utmost respect, never once casting aspersions regarding her lifestyle or her relationship with Ren. He had been so incredibly handsome: his voice gentle yet commanding, his hair neat yet fashionable, his posture so straight and self-assured, with eyes so expressive and of the most beautiful seafoam green that it made her heart race under his stare.
During their occasional subsequent encounters, the young lord had never ceased to be anything but proper and polite. Even in those few times where Ren had invited his friend to join him and Isabelle for an amorous congress, Hux had declined. And since Ren had vigorously denied that Hux had a preference for a windward passage, Isabelle could only conclude that her fancy for him was not reciprocated in the least.
Tonight had been magical. She had not needed to put on a display for show, instead opening up a part of herself to another so rarely seen, even in her relationship with Ren. Her years of longing surged to the forefront, and when she held fast to his hand, it was not as a coquettish and practiced courtesan, but as a woman freely offering up her heart.
"Would you like to come upstairs, Lord Hux?"
Hux's eyes darkened. He had admired her beauty for the longest time, and her wit and knowledge of the world proved an intoxicating combination. He had never capitalized on his past opportunities to lay with her, as she had previously been involved with Ren. Yet now she stood before him, her intimate relationship with Ren no more, with her desire obvious in her husky tones and her softly parted lips, her longing for acceptance and love mirroring his own.
The happiness which he deserved. Ren's wish for him filled his heart as he gazed at the beautiful woman standing before him.
Hux kept his voice steady despite the thrumming of want which coursed through his body.
"Je ne demande pas mieux, ma chérie."
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
For the second time tonight, Isabelle was grateful that her life until now had freed her from the confines of a husband and provided her with a familiarity of men. No sooner had they reached the comfortably decorated apartment and Hux divested them of their outer wrappings did she lean in to him gently, her hands on his chest.
The citrusy notes of neroli and lemon mixed with jasmine and sandalwood filled his nostrils and inflamed his senses. His lips were suddenly dry as the heat from her hands seemed to impossibly penetrate through the various layers of his clothing and to his thundering heart which lay beneath.
They met halfway, tentatively at first, with half-lidded stares and bated breaths, until their lips crashed into one another as all of their yearning and desire melded into that one kiss. Isabelle's lips parted as Hux grew more insistent, his calloused hands moving over her silken hair, drawing her closer as he tasted the sweetness of her mouth.
"Mon Dieu," she whispered, pulling back breathlessly, her blue eyes darkening with passion.
Hux watched as her face transformed, her lips swollen from their kiss. Her hair fell in loose tendrils around her face as her chest quickened in its rise and fall. He traced a line along her bared neck to the décolletage of her gown with his mouth, her soft skin delicious under his tongue. She arched against him, the movement causing her bosom to press against the palm of his hands, the sensation shooting down to his rapidly hardening cock.
"Yes," she breathed. Hux's hands working more fervently as he slipped the fabric of her dress around her waist. He shakily undid the string to her corset, freeing her from its bone busk cage, her breasts spilling into his eager fingers as they kneaded the sumptuous flesh beneath.
"You are so gorgeous," Hux murmured. "If you only knew how long I have wanted you like this."
Isabelle pulled back despite herself, his words penetrating through her lust-addled brain.
"My Lord—but you have never—it was not for a lack of opportunity," she stammered, her usual gracefulness falling apart at her surprise.
Hux blushed under her stare. "It was not for lack of want, either. My past denial was not only due to my friendship with Ren. I knew that if I were ever fortunate enough to be with you, I would want the experience to be unfettered by the presence of others. That I would only want you, undiluted and absolute."
Her heart burst at his confession. Isabelle had always possessed enough sense of self to believe in her own goodness, yet she had not often seen it reflected in the opinion of others, especially in someone as breathtakingly attractive and honorable as Hux.
"Fais moi l'amour," she entreated him. "S'il vous plaît, Armitage. Mon coeur."
Hux brought his head down, taking a rosy nipple into his mouth, delighting in the way that it peaked and hardened against the movements of his tongue. Isabelle let out a moan as he gathered her further into his mouth, laving the swell of her breast until she was on fire, her skin burning underneath his unrelenting touch.
Hux moved to lower her gown further and she stood, signaling her desire for him to remain still. She stepped back, her eyes never leaving him as she slowly undressed herself for his pleasure, his eyes traveling hungrily down the garment's path as it made its way over the curve of her hips and puddled softly onto the floor. She performed a quarter turn, delighting in the intake of Hux's breath as he took in the sight of her perfectly rounded buttocks underneath her thin chemise, then completely loosened the fastening of her undergarments until they were no more.
Hux watched as Isabelle stepped away from the remains of her clothing and removed the comb which held up her hair. Her wavy locks tumbled over her shoulders as she stood before him, as beautiful as Boticelli's Venus in all her naked glory.
Hux exhaled as if he were Zephyrus, unaware until then that his breath had been caught while he was so enraptured. His feet moved forward with a will of their own, only stopping when Isabelle shook her head and made him hold his place. She moved towards him seductively, each sensuous sway of her hips a torturous sigh as his body ached for her touch.
Hux could not help the shudder which ran through him when her fingers finally ran along the lapels of his jacket, their pressure welcome yet not enough. The woolen fabric fell off his broad shoulders with a practiced ease, as Isabelle set to working the buttons on his waistcoat. She followed this next by loosening his shirt, each undone button revealing a growing expanse of Hux's pale skin.
She remarked at his figure as she pulled his shirt overhead. Hux was lean and lithe, his torso tapering beautifully down to a trim waist and narrowed hips, with a soft trail of reddish-gold down visible above the waistband of his trousers. She undid the buttons to the narrow front, his cock springing forward at its release, long and swollen and beautifully flushed.
It took all of Hux's willpower not to tilt his hips forward and thrust himself against her lips. When Isabelle finally stepped back after removing his trousers and remaining small clothes, he could wait no longer. He moved forward with a growl, gathering her into his arms as her body molded itself against his own, and carried her onto the bed.
Hux was consumed by his need and desire, for this woman to whom he bared his body and soul, for a woman who desired him not only as an earl and as a general, but also as a bastard son. He had hidden himself for so long under the proprieties and the rules of society, and it was a heady feeling to let himself go: to lose himself in Isabelle's scent, in her taste and her kisses, and in the softness of her body as it lay underneath his wiry and muscular planes.
He shuddered as he entered her, sheathing himself in her welcoming warmth, his hips stilling temporarily at the sensation lest he lose control. She responded by canting her hips, and he began to thrust, pumping his hardness into her slick and smooth walls.
Isabelle's breaths came up in short huffs, her hands reaching behind to grab his buttocks in an effort to pull him closer. Their hips met, their movements becoming more forceful and uncontrolled, driven by their need to capture something simultaneous and glorious, Hux's grunts punctuated by the mewling sounds which were escaping from Isabelle's throat.
Hux felt her tighten and spasm around him as she called out his name. It was a cry both breathless and enraptured, her eyes shining bright with her tears. He could hold back no longer as he gave in to the sensations with a judder, the muscles in his arms and his chest tightening as he spilled his release, his cock emptying into her repeatedly as her name tumbled out from underneath his lips.
They lay next to one another afterwards, their breaths slowing, their sweat cooling, with the lingering scent of their sex in the air.
Hux raised himself on his elbow. He stared at her visage, wrapping his finger gently around the curl of her hair as he brushed it back and kissed her lips. There was something about their lovemaking which had been so sweet and so right, and yet he could not help doubt and uncertaintly which intruded into his thoughts.
Isabelle watched his slow withdrawal and guarded gaze.
"What is wrong, mon chéri?"
Hux took a deep breath, his emotions as naked and exposed as his current physical state.
"Making love to you was incredible, Isabelle. And what we shared earlier this evening, even more so. I find myself indelibly drawn to you, and would welcome the opportunity to know you more, in the best ways between a man and a woman. As both a friend, and a lover."
He turned his head. "I also know that you have worked hard to make a life for yourself. I do not want to deny who you are, or to take away that which is important to you. But I also know myself, and know that I could not bear the thought of sharing you in the most intimate way possible with another, especially given my past.
"I can only hope for an eventual answer. But if you are ever so agreeable-if you find yourself desiring something of greater permanence than that which your current situation provides, I would like your permission to court you properly."
Isabelle's voice softened, her face suddenly filled with a tentative hope.
"You would consider that? Even with all that you know of me?"
"It is because of what I know of you. Of who you are." Hux nibbled the shell of her ear, the whisper of his breath causing her to shiver.
"What do you say to flouting the unwritten rules of society and becoming the next Lord Berwick and Sophia Dubochet?"
Isabelle's face broke out into a huge smile. "I live for flouting the rules. And I would much rather be the next Lord Hux and Isabelle De Montespan."
He turned to her at that moment, trailing feather-light kisses along the curve of Isabelle's back as their fingers entwined, her satiated smile reflecting the contentment and happiness in his own heart. He lay there happily, memorizing the loose and languid feel of their bodies as they lay next to one another, unable to recall the last time when he had felt so whole.
Hux let out a sudden bark of laughter.
Isabelle turned. She looked at him archly, affecting an offended look.
Hux grinned. "I was thinking of Ren. He is a sly devil. I believe that this," he waved his hand over their naked and disheveled state, "may have been his plan all along."
His expression grew serious. "I don't know how I will ever repay him."
Isabelle bit her lip thoughtfully. It plumped up, and Hux wanted nothing more than to take it between his teeth and lick the redness away.
"He is very much in love as well, mon chéri. Yet he is too proud, and perhaps too scared, to fully act on his desires, and so he remains alone, with only his guarded heart for company."
Hux stared at Isabelle. "Who is Ren in love with?"
Isabelle made a clucking sound. "La, you men! Sometimes you cannot see that which is plainly in front of your face. What do you know of Miss Kenobi?"
Hux's widening eyes morphed into a grin as he took in her words. Isabelle laughed, her chuckles diminishing as she ducked under the covers. Hux's expression quickly turned from one of mischievousness to lust as he felt Isabelle's warm and experienced lips taking him in and down to the root of his stirring cock.
He groaned as he felt himself hardening again. Tonight, he would give to himself. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to strategize about Ren.