It's the hux/poe/kylo omegaverse arranged marriage self-indulgence i was shooting my mouth off about before :D
As the terms of the treaty were written out by Grand Marshall Hux’s secretary, Kylo Ren loomed next to Hux himself, both alphas taking this plan much more seriously than Poe’s initial idea of just straight-up propositioning them.
Finn squirmed a bit next to Poe, still unable to get his head around how they’d ended up here: bartering a political deal that would literally be paid for with Poe’s ass.
>:D Subsequent chapters will be on my ao3 here. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.
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To be fair, Poe’s trust of his gut instinct had never steered him wrong before. Whether it was maneuvers in his X-wing saving his ass, or being just in the right place at just the right time.
Sure, he could be impulsive, but his intentions were always for the benefit of the whole. And his actions would definitely be benefitting the whole, if things went where he had a feeling they might.
Call it intuition— or special omega powers, as he liked to joke with Finn- but Poe had a good feeling about this. The possibility of a ceasefire was what first caught his interest; the possibility of a truce turning into peace— real peace through alternative diplomacy- made up his mind.
And as he sat in a meeting room aboard the Finalizer, the irony of the ship’s name didn’t escape him.
Finn was with him at least for now; Leia’s representative and knowledgeable insider of First Order policy and culture. As the terms of the treaty were written out by Grand Marshall Hux’s secretary, Kylo Ren loomed next to Hux himself, both alphas taking this plan much more seriously than Poe’s initial idea of just straight-up propositioning them.
Finn squirmed a bit next to Poe, still unable to get his head around how they’d ended up here: bartering a political deal that would literally be paid for with Poe’s ass.
Poe was amused mostly, because that wasn’t wrong, but Finn couldn’t believe the personal lengths the omega pilot was willing to go to for what they hoped might bring about galactic peace.
“No, do not use ‘product’,” Hux’s voice admonished as terms were being written on the holopad between them all. “This will be a child—”
“Children,” Kylo Ren’s dour voice corrected, earning a huff from Hux for being interrupted.
“Children,” Hux continued. “Our offspring. I want no dehumanizing language in this document concerning them. This union will be symbolic enough without forcing such a role on the pups.”
“Yes, sir,” the beta secretary acknowledged.
Finn gave Poe a look, and Poe offered him a sheepish grin. Yeah, it had been his plan, but that didn’t mean everyone else liked it, let alone supported it. It was the right decision, though, and as far as Poe’s appetite for hedonism went, it was right up his alley.
Poe would retain his autonomy within the fleet to the point of being officially treated as a diplomat- he would not be forced to adhere to First Order culture as a rule. However, the omega would be carrying the heirs to a new Order itself; dual citizens of the Republic and First Order both. Poe would need to conduct himself accordingly throughout their… agreement.
Kylo paced the room as Hux sat, the looming alpha moving from viewport to viewport as the tedium of internal affairs was seen to by Hux. Both alphas were party to this treaty, but Kylo’s hulking dark presence naturally drew the eye. He was helmetless, hair shiny and well put together.
Way too pretty an alpha to have gotten so far without hiding that face, force or no force.
“And of the topic of bonding?”
Poe looked up. He hadn’t thought about that, honestly, and he wasn’t about to admit that maybe his pants were too tight over the whole idea of the pair of them than to have considered the option of bonding.
Clearly the alphas hadn’t either.
“Include it,” Kylo spoke.
“Now wait just one moment, Ren-”
Finn looked at Poe, and Poe raised his head with authority. “I reserve the right to make my own decisions regarding that, depending how things go,” Poe quickly spoke up. He looked at them both evenly- the way Kylo frowned at the equal frown Hux was giving him- and wondered momentarily if he’d misjudged a rivalry between the pair despite what their reports had found.
They couldn’t both bond with him, and the idea of one trying to get a chance before the other made Poe cringe. “No forcible bonding. No surprises. That goes against everything we’re trying to do here, first of all,” Poe pointed out. “Consider that a condition of my stay. Second of all: broken bonds don’t feel nice, and I’ll naturally reject anything you try to force on me, so I don’t recommend trying it. That’s not how any of this is gonna work. This is about building a foundation of trust for peace to even have a chance.”
Hux gave Kylo an unimpressed look, as if he’d already known all of that, while the other alpha huffed at the details. “Fine,” Kylo said.
Finn exhaled heavily, but he returned the wry look Poe gave him at least.
Further details and provisions were decided or planned for, and the potential ‘official’ draft was signed. Copies were made for both sides to review or make notes on. They officially had a potential plan for conflict deescalation from both sides, and a transition to a declared peace within the next nine months to a year.
All without bloodshed or loss of life.
Poe turned his attention to the alphas he’d just agreed to let impregnate him, a little thrill running up his spine as everything was finalized.
He met Kylo Ren’s gaze, judging himself a little for how attractive he found the big alpha when that helmet wasn’t covering his handsome features. The look Poe raked over the other man in outward appraisal was confident and full of heat. He entertained an idea that had been an idle fantasy since the first time he’d seen a maskless image of the alpha: the thought of being pinned beneath all that raw alpha muscle. Of being scented and wondering if his knot was to scale with the rest of him.
He was sure it was just his mind not being able to keep it in his pants, but Poe would say he felt the same weight of Kylo’s eyes looking him up and down with an almost electric intensity.
It lasted no more than a second before the big alpha was turning on his heel and leaving in a quick flourish that bore striking resemblance to a retreat.
Poe was outright grinning at Finn, whose smile was more of a grimace than anything else. Poe couldn’t help the way it made him feel like a hotshot. Both alphas clearly wanted him; enough to entertain the idea of disarmament to have him, apparently. The sexual tension in the room could be cut with a knife.
And they’d all said he was crazy for even suggesting it…
Poe turned his attention back on Hux, the alpha watching Ren’s exit with a disapproving tightness to his lips. When Hux turned back to meet Poe’s gaze, Poe smirked, and Hux’s cheeks gained a slight dusting of pink. Seemed like they were all on the same page if wanting this to take place.
The beta who had made copies of everything handed them over to Finn and then took his position behind the Grand Marshall. Hux gave the assistant some instruction while his cheeks only became hotter— an actual blush- and acted as if these matters were more or less par for the course in a day’s duties.
Poe and Finn were allowed to leave the Finalizer to-- for lack of a better word- finalize everything on the end of the Resistance and new New Republic interim governments. There were some goodbyes and some packing to do, but overall Poe was optimistic about the whole plan.
“I think it’ll be fine,” Poe said.
Finn frowned. “He tortured you.”
Poe shrugged. “It’s not like I ever saw his real face when that was happening. He’s like a whole other person if I focus on it.” Such an attractive person that his dick definitely didn’t connect the two, so it probably wouldn’t be a problem for his mind.
“…are you kidding me right now?” Finn said with concerned exasperation. “Just ‘cuz you like how he looks doesn’t change what he did.”
Poe winced. He wouldn’t consider himself shallow, but the way Finn put it wasn’t exactly flattering, either. “…is it dumb to hope that getting him in bed will overwrite that other experience in my head, thus killing two birds, one stone?” His hopeful tone lacked any shame. He trusted his gut, and also his nose; Kylo Ren’s musky alpha scent was giving him all kinds of ideas he wasn’t necessarily proud of. And that wasn’t even counting the ideas in his head about the blush he’d caused in Hux.
Finn huffed. “I’m worried about you. Like, really.”
“Hey, we got our extraction plan if it all goes bad, right? Nothing you haven’t done before,” Poe said with a grin. “And I honestly don’t think it’ll come to that.” Poe tried to offer a reassuring smile that came out more a grimace. “Look, are my instincts ever wrong?”
“No, I don’t want to hear about your ‘special omega powers’—”
“Trust me on this, buddy,” Poe attempted to comfort. His eager grin really wasn’t helping matters though. “I’ve got a good feeling, even about Kylo Ren. I’m telling you, a good omega will really mellow him out.” His eyes sparkled mischievously as he lowered his voice. “…I also really really wanna get into his pants, okay? Both of them,” he clarified with a smirk. “Like I am definitely motivated here. C’mon, you saw his face. He is way too pretty to ever be taken seriously without that mask, that’s for damn sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he wore it in the first place. Probably distracts everyone without it.” Poe gave him a smirk. “He looks like something out of a wet dream…”
Finn’s grimace turned extra sour. “You’re messed up. I love you, Poe, but you are definitely messed up.”
“You might change your mind about that after this brings peace to the galaxy,” Poe said confidently with a grin and waggled his eyebrows. There was more than one way to win a war and bring forth peace.
And Poe never was known for taking baby steps.
“Definitely messed up. Let’s hope it works.”
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Leave a comment or read subsequent chapters on my ao3 here. :D
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Characters: Poe Dameron, Armitage Hux, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Additional Tags: Tragedy, Public Humiliation, Sexual Abuse, Captivity, Mind Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Poe's Bad Luck
Series: Part 3 of Old Works Written After TLJ Came Out Found on My Computer
Summary:
Poe is captured a second time and brought onboard the Finalizer.
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Gamebird’s comment: Fuck yeah, this is a GOOD STORY! And it’s a good story, too. Keep at it as you read. This is one where ‘wait for it’ applies. The sex gets a little weird in the middle but (I think) that’s intentional and OMG is there a payoff at the end. I dunno, YMMV, but I found this delightful, intriguing, startling, and very mind-bendingly cool.
I don’t recc other people’s stories very much, but you gotta check this one out.
Chapter summary: Poe gets into a barfight - minor warnings for blood. (word count 2141)
Chapters 1, 2, 3 and on ao3
Kylo and Hux were on their way back to the tavern where Poe would be giving his latest performance...
They had spent all the afternoon consulting with the mayor of this backwater little town as to what services they could possibly render him. He was an odious man who didn't seem to know exactly what he was talking about, and prattled on for hours about werewolf sightings – Kylo was almost certain that the mayor's reports were only rumour – before changing tack to ask Hux a million pointless questions. It had taken so long that it was now almost night. The least he could have done, if all he wanted was to be able to say he'd met a mage and a Witcher, was compensate them for their time. Still, it had been fun to see how politely Hux could insult him.
There was a considerable noise coming from somewhere ahead of them on their path, and, as they rounded the corner, it became clear that the source was the tavern. The place was full to bursting, people crowding in the door and standing on tip toes to see in. The music which should have been flowing out of the place was instead replaced with shouts and jeering. Hux and Kylo figured out what was happening at virtually the same time, quickening their pace.
The place smelt of spilt beer and sweat, and the loud, human noise bit at Kylo's senses with an acidic tang between his eyes and at the back of his neck, making his fists curl. Hux shouldered his way forward, but the crush parted easily for them, creating ripples of, “It's the Witcher!”, “that horrid magician,” “mutant freaks.”
If everything had stopped when they arrived, the solid blow of flesh hitting flesh kickstarted it all again, sending forth another round of jeers as everyone turned back to the commotion at the centre of the room. The last layer of people peeled back, and the cause of it all was revealed.
Poe, his lute and doublet discarded somewhere, was squaring up, fists first, to another man who was both younger and larger than himself. The sleeves of Poe's shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms, the collar of that same shirt flapping open lower than usual, his knuckles of a shade suggesting that a number of blows had already been dealt. His hair was in disarray, sweat sheening his skin, and there was a bright red split freshly on his lip. It was... handsome. It made Kylo angry.
Growling, he took an abortive step towards Poe's adversary, only to be blocked by a surprisingly firm hand on his sternum. Hux.
“What is the meaning of this?” the mage asked the room icily.
“They're voicing their unwanted opinions,” Poe told them, and it was with such hostility that Kylo would scarcely believe it could come from him, if he didn't know that Poe had a righteous streak a mile wide.
“We don't take kindly to things like you coming to these parts,” someone said.
“Witchers and their murdering.”
“Mages and their sin.”
“We've heard the stories!” another added, and noises of assent scattered around the room.
Kylo had been in situations like this before. He'd been known to act badly in them. Rashly. Angrily. He cast his gaze around, and people seemed to shrink back from it. He could only imagine how he looked, pale skin, red scar, irises a sick, blank yellow, like a vulture. Finally, he found himself facing the man Poe had been fighting.
“Inhuman thing,” the man looked Kylo up and down with disgust and spat at his feet.
Kylo could have had the man in a choke-hold in a matter of seconds, but a determined blur shot forward, ducking under the fists the man's slackening stance had let weaken. Poe punched the man hard in the stomach, causing him to double over enough that Poe could then bring a knee up into his nose, letting loose a fountain of blood. The man yelled in pain, grabbing a hold of Poe's shoulder. Kylo had never intervened faster in his life, hitting away the man's arm and standing in his way.
“You need your pet monsters to save you, huh?” the man taunted even though he was clearly scared, or at least wary, his eyes flitting between Poe and his reinforcements, his speech clodded up with his nosebleed.
“Watch your damn words!” Poe shot back. “My friends are better men than you'll ever be.”
“Pussy.”
Kylo had to stop Poe's lurching attempt at an attack.
“Everyone out!” Hux ordered, his voice almost impossibly loud. People began to slink out of the door, but slowly enough that Kylo decided to take matters into his own hands and bundle Poe off in the direction of the stairs. He went with a few firm nudges, snatching his lute and doublet up from where they were stashed by the bar as he went. His tendons stood out where his grip on them was so tight.
“Go to the room,” Kylo hissed at him, lingering on the stairwell in case Hux needed backup.
It was quickly revealed to be a pointless consideration.
Hux already had backed Poe's assailant up against a wooden wall, the point of a dagger to his throat, his other hand glowing at his side. Kylo was almost certain that was the initial stages of a nasty hex, more than was required to intimidate some bigoted peasant.
“He started it-” the man was saying, and Hux was shaking his head with a sneer.
“That could not matter to me less. If I hear a single word from you I don't ask for, you will regret it. Do you know you laid hands on a lord?”
The man's throat bobbed. Of course he hadn't known Poe was nobility.
“In his kingdom,” Hux continued, turning the dagger so the edge was on the man's clavicle, “he is known as a good man. A righteous man. You angered- no, you infuriated a good man. Riled him up enough to do this.” Hux's tone changed, getting impossibly sharper. “I am not like him. I could raze this pathetic spit of matchsticks, if I wanted to. And you,” he dug the dagger in a little, skirting the man's jugular, “would be the one to blame, for harming someone I hold precious.” He let the threat sit for a moment before stepping back, the glow by his hand dissipating. “In fact, you had better check your house isn't already up in flames.”
The man made to scramble for the door.
“And next time,” the man paused, the hate in his eyes now significantly dwarfed by his fear as Hux spoke, “I suggest you remember that a mage's wrath is far worse than our sin.”
Kylo got up to the room before Hux could catch him watching on the stairwell.
Poe was pacing restlessly. When Kylo entered, he stopped, tapping his foot. “You should have let me beat the shit out of him.”
“You should have let me beat the shit out of him,” Kylo replied, his voice curling into a growl. To hear the way the townspeople spoke about himself wasn't unusual – he'd lashed out before, and it was one of the reasons he stayed out of towns as much as possible – but it was the first time he'd heard someone speak about Hux that way, and it was the first time Poe had come to blows that Kylo wasn't there to stop before he'd sustained damage. Crossing the room and lifting a hand to carefully tilt Poe's head to the side, examining the bruising on his jaw and temple, Kylo asked, “Did he hurt you?”
“Just bruises,” Poe replied, his teeth gritted more, Kylo suspected, from residual fury than from pain. No, that would hit later when the adrenaline dissipated. “Those things they were saying about you – fucking rude. And untrue.”
Kylo hummed some assent. “You both should be treated like royalty,” he muttered, thinking it only true; Poe wasroyalty of a self evident sort of virtue, and Hux was both powerful enough and well respected enough to demand that sort of praise.
Poe laid his fingers on Kylo's wrist. “And the things about you,” he insisted, his brow furrowing in a way that said he was concerned in a new direction. “You don't believe them, do you?”
The disbelief in Poe's voice made Kylo want to deny it. Luckily, Hux joining them in the room saved him from stumbling his way some verbal deflection.
“Did he hurt you?” Hux asked immediately.
“Just bruises,” Poe repeated as the mage approached, before protesting with a weak “Hey!” as his shirt was unceremoniously lifted by Hux to inspect him for more bruises, wincing as his surprised twist to the side made something twinge.
“What if he'd had the presence of mind to pull a knife?” Hux reprimanded him, noting with disapproving exactitude the red patches by Poe's ribs.
“Well he didn't, so it's fine.”
“That is not-” Hux cut himself off with an irritated sigh, heading to where Kylo's pack was by the table and picking through it without asking. “In the future, please remind yourself of your mortality before throwing yourself into something so foolish as a tavern brawl.”
“You sound like Leia.”
“I desperately hope not,” Hux replied drily, and, having found the vial he was looking for, returned to stand before Poe, looking over his bruises again. He popped open the vial – Kylo recognised it as one of his own healing potions, too strong for Poe just to drink – upturning it with his finger over the top, before dabbing the liquid onto the bruises.
Poe hissed at the contact. “Look, you can't expect me to just stand there while people insult you!”
“That is exactly what I expect-”
“Don't ask me to, Hux. I won't.” Poe's dark eyes flicked up to Kylo again, anguish creeping in to the set of his features. “Not when Kylo believes those things.”
Hux froze in what he was doing and straightened up, turning his own piercing eyes onto Kylo. “You do?” Voice as fine as wine, Kylo could detect in his tone notes of disapproval, mild shock, and, surprisingly, genuine pity.
Kylo had been standing there quietly until now, trying not to do anything to bring Poe back to that subject. “Well I...” he fumbled, casting around as if for an answer, pressure mounting as he could feel their attention trained on him, “I'm... it doesn't...” His eyes began to sting and – fuck that – he didn't. He didn't need to be pitied, by Hux, by Poe, by anyone else, no matter who they were to him. He knew what he was, and, though it made his blood boil to hear commoners who hadn't known half the fear and pain he had throw words around like they did, it only hurt so much because he worried they were right.
Poe was reaching out for his wrist again, and the contact made Kylo snatch his arm away and stalk over to the window with a snarled, “Just leave it.” He gripped the window sill and the wood of it creaked with the strain.
Three open-palmed bangs on the door, and the landlord hollered through to them, “I want you out! Out, you hear?”
A few more bangs had Kylo whirling round and snapping, “Fine, now fuck off!” Footsteps hesitatingly retreated, the landlord no doubt wondering whether they actually would go, but there was no way they would stay; there was an even chance Kylo would hit the next person who bothered them, and an only slightly less likely one of Poe doing the same.
“I'll fetch my things,” Hux said. They'd taken two rooms, and, as usual, Kylo and Poe were sharing while Hux got his own. “We should head north a mile or so,” he continued to lay out the reasoning for a sheltered spot he'd noticed, tending to the last of Poe's wounds.
He crooked a finger at Poe, who leaned forward a little. Hux dropped a little of the healing potion onto his thumb, and placed the pad of it tenderly onto the split on Poe's lip. It was just a moment, but though Hux was all business, Kylo noticed Poe's shoulders drop and his eyes flit to Hux's lips momentarily. When Hux removed his thumb the merest of seconds later and turned his attention to recapping the vial, Poe's tongue laved over the spot, which had already faded from red to pink under Hux's care.
The scene made Kylo want – he wanted to touch them, to patch the two of them up when they needed it, to look after them. He gripped the windowsill tighter. Next time, he'd be the one defending them.
Chapter summary: mini-waterfight, short scene continuation of these three wombling across the continent, (word count 1343)
Chapter 1, 2, and also on ao3
Kylo trudged back into camp and sat down heavily by the fire. He was angry, and he was sure his two companions could tell, judging by the way they had fallen to silently looking at him instead of chatting as they had been before. Eventually, Kylo couldn't take the staring. “What?” he demanded.
“You've... got a little something there,” Poe offered, pointing at him, first his hair and then his whole body.
“The fucking thing exploded!” he informed them loudly, and several birds took flight from the trees with a slap of wings that irritated Kylo all the more.
Sure, Kylo was glad to have the coin from the shepherds, and their sheep-snatching issue was solved, but did it have to spew foul smelling viscera all over him?
Hux was grimacing now. “It smells awful,” he complained, his tone allowing no argument, “go wash it off. There's a stream not too far west.”
Kylo groaned, leaned over to the side and lay down. He did want it off, but it seemed like such effort right at that moment – besides, he'd mostly gotten used to the smell, and he was tired. “I'll do it later.”
Kylo heard Hux stand up, and practically heard the vein in his forehead bulge as he ordered, “You'll do it now!” Crunching leaves as he approached, saying, “I don't want you stinking up camp.” The heel of a boot dug into Kylo's side, turning him over a bit and then retreating when he tried to grab it's owner.
“Go and hide in your fancy posh tent, then!”
“I imagine the stench would reach even there.”
“Prick.”
“Oaf.”
“Kylo,” Poe's mediating voice made Kylo bite back the unsavoury comment he was about to make about mages. “Go wash off. You'll feel better for it. And Hux? Stop being a shit.” And somehow, that stopped the argument.
The healthy distance Hux and Poe were keeping in order to avoid the smell meant that by the time the two of them had caught up to his pissed-off march to the river, Kylo had already stripped off and dunked himself underwater. There was still stuff caught in his hair, which he was trying to drag his fingers through.
“Hey, that looks painful,” Poe said, sounding genuinely concerned, and coming forward to sit at a rocky section at the side of the stream. “Come here, I'll sort it out for you.”
Kylo hesitated. For one thing, he was fully naked. Of course Poe had seen flashes of him naked before, but what with he and Hux fully clothed – the mage wandering around looking at the various plants around the banks and occasionally casting glances in their direction – it wasn't exactly a familiar situation.
In fact, thinking about the situation made Kylo hesitate, though he was unsure why; something told him that this ought to feel different, but the more he thought about it, it didn't feel different. They both knew him, and it felt... natural. So he went over and turned so Poe could easily reach.
Poe's fingers working over Kylo's scalp felt... heavenly. Kylo relaxed into it further and further. He tried not to think about how gentle Poe was being, but it was all that was in his mind. Poe, unlike so many others in Kylo's life, Hux included, never tried to hurt him, never treated him like everyone else where Poe came from. It had to mean something. He wanted to turn around and put his head on Poe's chest, sink into that gentle warmth and burrow into the delightful burr of his voice.
Poe lifted some water and worked it into Kylo's hair. It trickled down his back, and Poe's fingers gathered his hair by brushing it back over his ear. Kylo shivered. “You okay there?” Poe asked.
“Yeah,” Kylo cleared his throat, “it's just cold.”
Hux looked up from the stone he was turning over with his foot, meeting Kylo's eyes as if to call him out on the lie. Kylo wished he could know what Hux was thinking behind his calculating eyes and schooled expression, seeing the two of them like that, but Hux was often inscrutable to Kylo when it came to physical demonstrations of any kind of emotion, something which had caused plenty of trouble in the past. Although... provocation often worked.
“Gods, yeah, it's freezing,” Poe was saying, “you're almost done,” but Kylo wasn't listening, too busy gathering the strength to flick water at Hux. His arm shot out of the water, casting a splash that just missed the mage, who withdrew quickly, scandalised.
“How dareyou!” he snapped, approaching severely, but remaining on guard for further attacks as he looked down at Kylo, beginning a lecture on exactly how he would curse him if he did it again. Hux was so busy doing that, he didn't focus on Poe standing or walking round behind him - unfortunately, he couldn't fail to notice when the bard stuck out a hip and pushed him into the water.
The mage fell like a collection of overly fine fabric and swearing, splashing around in a fantastic approximation of a surprised cat. It wasn't that the stream was too deep for him to stand, he was just caught off guard, and Kylo took advantage of that by wading in and lifting him up, an arm around his back and under his knees. Bedraggled and annoyed, this was no doubt the most fearsome Hux could get without unleashing his magic on the subject of his discontent.
“You!” he exclaimed at Poe, trying to get his legs out from Kylo's hold, “I'll murder you, I'll-”
With that, Kylo dropped him. There was a moment more of spluttering, followed by a faint glow from under the water, and then Kylo found himself inundated again with a magical wave which the gentle flow of the stream never could have generated on its own. When Hux got his feet under him and saw Kylo still blinking water out of his eyes, he gave a snorting laugh.
There were two thuds from the bank of shed boots, and a warning shout from Poe as he jumped into the stream just behind Kylo, causing him to be inundated again. The whole thing degenerated into a splash fight, cold but happy.
When they finally trudged back to camp – Hux complaining perfunctorily the whole way about how his robes were “ruined” and would have to be fixed magically, Poe's hair slowly re-curling as it dried – it was the best Kylo had felt in a long time.
Kylo was building up the fire and finding a place to spread out his wet shirt when he noticed Poe looking through the slightly open flap of the tent, inside of which Hux was changing. It was only a moment, in which Poe had paused, run his hand through his hair once, and then seemed to decide he shouldn't be looking, heading off to find something in his pack.
As inconspicuously as possible, Kylo took up the place Poe had abandoned, making to hang up his clothes but glancing back inside the tent as he did. The light inside was a soft, dusky orange, courtesy of the canvas sides and the lantern Hux had lit. The mage was framed perfectly in the entrance, wearing a loose pair of pants and nothing else, his slim chest exposed. He looked soft, enticing, all smooth muscles accented by sharp shoulder bones, freckles smattering his shoulders. Kylo remembered poring over them in the winter evenings, when the two of them could take it slow. It cast a strange kind of nostalgia into his heart.
Hux turned and noticed Kylo before he could look away. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow, to which Kylo shrugged. The reason they parted wasn't because of lack of attraction, after all, and it had been Hux who had engineered their reunion. Hux still understood Kylo better than possibly anyone else in the world.
A flick of Hux's wrist, and the tent flap lolled closed.
Chapter summary: The trouble with trinkets is they make people jealous. Or maybe that's just Kylo.
Chapter 1 here, 2 below or on Ao3, 3
Wordcount: 2029
Kylo raised his sword and brought it down fiercely on the horrible carnivorous vines he'd been hired to clear out of the local village's moor edge. The things had already munched their way through a cow and half a sheep, and the villagers were worried a child would be next. Perhaps to his own detriment, Kylo wasn't really all that interested in the reasons why he'd been hired; he was far more interested in the coin he'd get out of the experience, and the opportunity to really let loose some destructive energy.
Of course, Kylo had been trained well in fencing, dagger fighting, stave fighting and in hand to hand combat, but for his typical work, he favoured the longsword. The weight of it felt so right in his hands, the swing of it, the sharp edge or the blunt hit, the way it gleamed red after drawing blood. For most monsters, it worked perfectly well, but even then the necessity to dodge or force down some kind of potion usually took the pleasure out of the pure heft behind it. These vines, however, were easy game. They thrashed, shot out poisonous barbs, but mostly they stayed in one place. That meant Kylo could swipe the metal through them with abandon, and still be assured he'd meet his mark.
He hacked and slashed, let a furore course through his veins and out into his surroundings, over and over and over through whatever fleshy leaf, woody stem, fibrous buds he could reach with metal and intensity. When finally he let his sword drop to trail its point through the under-brush at his side, it was carnage. He went around the area, plunging the blade as deep as it would go into each root stump until he was satisfied that nothing was living, before stalking away from the destruction.
Chest heaving, he found a flat, dry piece of ground and lay down, looking up at the clouds and basking in the feeling of action still tingling through his arms, into his fingers, out into the earth and the air around him. He felt connected – to the ground he was lying on, to the source of his own power, without being worried he was lost in the force of a potion. This was all him.
Back in the village, when they'd described to Kylo what he was out to fight, Hux had listened carefully and given a fancy academic name for the vines. Kylo stuck with the common name, shrugging and standing to head off immediately. Hux had reprimanded him and delayed him until he'd found an anti-toxin potion to order Kylo to take before engaging the things, which Kylo had ignored. Now, looking down at his legs and seeing several barbs sticking out of them, Kylo again heard Hux telling him, “They have poisonous thorns, you know,” in exactly that tone that could piss him off just as much as it could make him want to pounce on Hux and make his annoyance known by ripping a few tunic seams in the process.
Still, the mage was right, as per fucking usual.
Kylo hauled himself up to sit, drew the potion out of a pocket and downed it, picking the barbs out while he waited for it to take effect. The pricks tingled a bit, but it wasn't anything too bad, certainly not to the severity that Hux's wariness had suggested. Though it was nice that he'd given him the potion. It felt like being looked out for.
He let his mind drift to how Hux and Poe would be doing. The mage was likely offering common-sense medical advice to the villagers in the most deadpan delivery possible, or flicking through one of the books he'd brought with him in his seemingly bottomless bags. Poe had been eager to do his usual thing and perform a little in the tavern. His voice was so wonderful, Kylo found himself thinking, the sparkle in his eyes as he reached the punchline of a bawdy tune, and the way he could command a room, tell a story better than anyone else before...
Well, Kylo should be getting back.
He stood, gave the area one last cursory look for any vines he'd missed, and, seeing nothing, turned to go. He was just sheathing his sword when he stopped, eyes catching on a clump of cheerful orange and white flowers which had managed to survive his visit, just on the edge of the carnage.
“Hmm.”
When Kylo returned to the village tavern and gave Poe those same flowers, Poe's face lit up with a smile. “Well, don't I feel special.”
Kylo noticed Hux eyeing them. Shit, had he done something wrong? “They're not poisonous too, are they?” he asked.
Hux seemed to snap out of some kind of reverie. “No, they're... they're just normal flowers. Excuse me,” he stood from the table he was sat at and made for the stairs.
If Kylo didn't know better about Hux's taste in “useless gestures” like flowers, he would have thought he should have brought Hux some as well.
[break]
They stopped at the next city. Kylo wasn't sure they should stay – there were no contracts of the style he took, and, in his opinion, staying pointlessly at a place like this was a recipe for trouble – but Poe wanted to get some supplies and try out a some new material with a more cosmopolitan crowd, and Hux claimed he had someone he wanted to visit, so stay they did.
Hux disappeared off into the bustling crowds early in the morning, and, later, Poe dragged Kylo off to the market. Kylo started to suspect he was only there so that Poe could make him carry things, which would grate on him usually, but he found didn't mind all that much, since it meant he got to spend time with the bard.
Poe was a people person, a fact which Kylo had always known, but it was never so clear as when he was not trying actively to entrance people as he did when performing – somehow not putting it on made it all the more obvious this was just him. He would flash charming grins to the women and manoeuvred through the crowds with an ease Kylo was jealous of.
For his own part, Kylo always felt the need to keep his hood low, to keep out of sight, even going so far as to cast a glamour some witch had taught him years ago. It was a weak thing, but eyes slid off him like water droplets off a bird. With Poe, however, he didn't need it; the man was so magnetic as it was, there was barely anyone who would bother to stare at anyone else. (Kylo included himself in that number.)
Finally, they came to a stand selling all sorts of gold and silver jewellery, pretty trinkets, gemstones on cords. One brooch caught Poe's eye – a dragon. “This is some amazing craftsmanship,” he noted, striking up an easy conversation with the stall keeper. When the man had to tend to another customer, he turned back to Kylo. “I'd love to fly. Do you think I'd be a good dragon?”
“You'd be great,” Kylo told him honestly. He was certain Poe would command the skies, given half the chance, and push back against the hunters until the entire Continent was dragon territory once again. The mental image morphed into one of Poe in front of a victory banner, the name of a great flying lizard no more than an epithet used by the forces he'd become leader of. It was a good look in him; he may not want to be in charge of his home kingdom, but with a cause like that, and people to follow him, he could be formidable. Lost in the daydream of Poe as some kind of dragon king of the skies, Kylo pointed at the brooch. “Do you want to get that?”
Poe looked at it thoughtfully, enough that Kylo could see the conflict in his thoughts. “Nah,” he said eventually, “it's expensive and... I have stuff at home.” He began walking away, and Kylo trailed after him, thinking it was a pity – the brooch would look so wonderful on him. “Maybe I could get Hux to transfigure me or something,” Poe mused, a glint of humour in his eye as Kylo blanched.
“I'm not sure that's how it works...”
“Imagine it though. Flap flap, blagh, I'm a dragon.”
[break]
A day after they left the city, they made their first camp at the edge of a copse. Kylo was checking over his armour while Poe and Hux were sat on a log opposite him, Poe cooking a fowl on the fire and Hux watching him do it. Kylo had let himself fall into a somewhat meditative state as he worked everything over, but a glint of silver and amber across camp hooked him out of it.
Hux had withdrawn a small pouch from his pocket, and withdrawn from that again a brooch. Another second let Kylo confirm – it was the very brooch from the city market. How had he known? Then he was handing it to Poe with a smooth, “I saw this and thought of you.” Bastard.
Poe was speechless for a second. “You shouldn't have,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Well I can always-”
“No, I'll...” Poe reached to take it from Hux's hand. Kylo's jaw clenched as Poe's fingers lingered for too long. “Thanks, Hux. This is... wow.” He put it on, pinning it over his heart.
“It isn't straight.” Without waiting to be asked, Hux reached up with deft mage's fingers to fix it, smoothing out the fabric more than was necessary. “There.”
The leather armour in Kylo's grip creaked. Poe didn't hear it, but Hux shot him a look and... was that a smirk?
Then it hit Kylo; those flowers he'd given to Poe weeks ago must have made Hux jealous. It did not enter into Kylo's conception that Hux could simply like seeing Poe happy – happiness could be a part of it, certainly, but Hux was too cunning, too driven by ulterior motives for it to be that simple – or that Hux's feeling at seeing Poe like another person's gift could be any different to what Kylo himself was now feeling at seeing the same.
Well, if this was to be a game of one-upmanship, Kylo was sure he'd find a way to win. To make Poe smile like that, run a hand through his curls self-consciously as he now was – Kylo could do that just as well as Hux could. The rest of the evening, his mind was spinning with things he could give to the bard, trinkets of affection he could source the next time they crossed a place which dealt in such things.
The fire burned down and Hux retreated into his tent for the evening, Poe and Kylo settling on their bedrolls. They ended up facing each other, so Kylo, with his Witcher eyes, was not spared the view of Poe's finger fiddling with the brooch as he smiled to himself.
“He shouldn't have got it for me,” Poe mumbled again, as if sensing Kylo's train of thought, “It's probably gonna get broken.” Then, quieter, “I worry enough about whether you two will stay in one piece, I'd rather not worry about tiny things like this as well.”
Kylo thought about that for a minute. “You worry about us?” He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. Out of all of them, Poe was the one who should be being worried about – Kylo himself was nigh on destructible, and Hux would probably survive anything out of sheer spite, even discounting his magic.
“Shut up,” Poe chuckled.
Kylo watched him smile up blankly at the canopy. And... if Poe could be happy like that without being showered with gifts, if it would please him more to worry about them less, maybe Kylo didn't need to compete with Hux. Perhaps the three of them were good enough as they were.
A little darkgingerpilot Witcher AU I discussed months ago with @cleversturmhond I have no concept of how time passes anymore
Summary: The Witcher meets a bard, the bard meets a mage, and they travel the continent. Kylo knows what he feels, but he can't seem to act. Hux acts without talking about things. And Poe... well, what does Poe feel?
Tags: Witcher AU, Inspired by The Witcher, Slow Burn, if you count 13k as slow burn i guess, within the story its slow burn, fantasy medieval setting, Self-Indulgent, Mage Hux, witcher kylo, Bard Poe, scenic, They're oblivious, sex references, Yearning, i guess, im slapping a mature on it for sex references and some minor violence but honestly ehhh idk, darkgingerpilot
Chapter 1/2/3/?, wordcount 5012
also on Ao3
Whenever someone asked Kylo, he always said he preferred to keep to himself and the company of Silence, his horse and his best companion for the very fact of her name; she didn't talk, she didn't disturb the meditative quiet of his lonely rides, and, most importantly, he wasn't unsure how to curry her favour. An apple would do it. His current companions, on the other hand...
For some gods-forsaken reason, Poe and Hux were quarrelling about a composer who had been dead for over a century. When the three of them had first started travelling together years ago, and in the short time since they'd reunited, such discussion had been endearing; both of them were opinionated about certain things, and their conversations often turned into little debates over whatever topic arose while they were travelling. This was one of those occasions, Kylo enjoying listening to their thoughts and voices filling up the worn country roads. A throwaway comment had become interesting; Kylo didn't actually know much about this particular composer, whereas Hux and Poe both did, and, though Kylo didn't often contribute to these discussions in any great detail since the other two were both so much better with words, he did like to learn something new occasionally. But now, several hours into their journey and still on the same subject, it was just getting fucking annoying.
“I literally studied her work. You can't just turn around and say she wasn't revolutionary,” Poe objected, trotting along between Silence and Hux's own horse on the wide bridleway, looking up at Hux indignantly.
Poe's lowered position made it seem slightly laughable when Hux looked down at him and countered, “Since I actually met the woman, I think you'll find I can,” before prompting his horse to walk on ahead of them.
Poe picked up his pace a little and continued the argument, making some musical point Kylo didn't understand either. He tried to tune them out a bit as he let Silence drop back a short distance behind the them.
Considering how much time the three of them spent around each other in recent years, Kylo supposed he should be glad disagreements as lengthy as these were relatively few. And, certainly, they were fewer even than when it had only been Kylo and Poe on the path together.
[break]
Kylo had met Poe many years ago – at least a decade, if he thought about it – when he'd been compelled by his work to go through the city he'd been born in. Not only was the place particularly unfriendly to Witchers, but also had relations of his – distant now, yet he wanted to avoid them nonetheless – in positions of authority. Kylo had used a fake name, a low hood to hide his eyes, his scar, and stuck to the dingiest taverns, but a curly-haired, high-born young man had recognised him anyway, sitting himself down confidently at Kylo's corner table, offering his name, and saying, “I know you. You're that famous Witcher.”
Kylo had eyed his unwelcome acquaintance – Poewas what he introduced himself as – guessing that he couldn't yet be twenty summers old. Of course, Kylo was no good with ages – his own longevity had corroded his sense for them until everyone seemed either old or young in confusing measures – but Poe's next request had practically confirmed his suspicion.
“Would you let me come with you?” Poe had asked the second the bar-wench had placed down Kylo's ale.
“Come with me where?” Kylo grunted. He wasn't in the mood to bodyguard some noble, out for the first time in a world without castle walls.
“Well, where are you going?” Poe's eyes had glinted as he offered Kylo a charming smile.
Kylo had appraised him again, taking in his youth, his rich clothes, his courage, and summarily said, “No.”
Poe's smile didn't drop, even though Kylo could see his only half-amused chuckle for the frustration it was. “Come on, I just wanna see a bit of the world. Get away from my guardian's expectations.”
“The Queen?” Kylo had asked, an imprudently displayed gold ring on the youth's finger catching the light.
Poe had shrugged a yes.
It only made Kylo refuse all the more. The Queen was one of the people Kylo was known to by unfortunate fact of his heritage, someone he never wanted to anger, in case of her having some cause to meet with him personally. Poe, while not her blood family, would surely be missed, as her ward, were he to make off with a Witcher, especially with the one so primarily known for the massacre at Crait.
Poe's gaze went steely at Kylo's final dismissal, and he'd left the tavern quickly after that. It couldn't have been two years later when Kylo encountered the young man again, fine doublet swapped for something a little more incognito in orange and brown tones, a lute slung over his back and all the more determination to see everything.
Kylo hadn't refused him a second time, and he wouldn't have been able to, since Poe no longer had any qualms about following him uninvited. Thus, he had a new travelling companion.
Just as he suspected, Poe was a liability in some aspects of the job where monsters were concerned, but Poe had also dragged him, limping, back to camp before, bandaged his wounds, fetched his potions. His life had undeniably turned for the better with the bard around; Poe was a talented musician, it turned out, and the extra income and incentive to stay at inns meant Kylo was now more acquainted with feather pillows than he'd ever hoped to be. The positive company had made Kylo better as well, at talking to people, at putting up with them, at giving life nuance. His path was lighter with Poe on it.
They became comfortable around each other. They began to argue, about the silly things people who know each other well and cared for each other deeply argue about, about which direction to head in, which inn to stop at, about the jacket Kylo had left to get trampled by the last monster he'd fought. Barely a day went by without some kind of silly quibble to that effect, but it never truly changed the form of their relationship.
Then, they'd met Hux.
[break]
Kylo had been around long enough that he'd thought he'd heard of most of the other powerful, non-mortal beings on the continent, so randomly running into an evidently strong mage like Hux, who he'd never heard of, was a bit surprising. Kylo had been employed to go and rid a keep up on the hill of whatever it was that was plaguing it. He was expecting to take a while to figure it out, but when he arrived, the malevolent spirits were revealed easily by the mage already locked in battle with them.
The fight the man was putting up was impressive, given the sheer number of foes. He was spewing fire everywhere, manipulating the elements to his will, his bright hair and swan-white robe whipped around by the wind he was creating, but eventually Kylo could see he was losing, and so joined him in the fight. It was fortuitous that they were both there, as Kylo certainly couldn't have defeated them all on his own either. When the last spirit was destroyed, however, Hux had spun round, announced that he had decidedly notrequired the help of some filthy Witcher, and flounced off. He'd gotten about ten paces when he collapsed from the sheer exertion of having used his magic in such a manner.
So Kylo had carried the mage back to camp and laid him down on his bedroll to recuperate.
Poe was travelling with Kylo at that time, and, though he was surprised to see Hux, he seemed very glad to see Kylo back from the fight, juiced up on potions but otherwise unharmed. His smile had made Kylo's heart do something he didn't really understand, the same thing it did when Poe met his gaze during a performance at whatever tavern they were staying at, the same when Kylo said something complimentary to him. Indeed, it was becoming more and more of a common feeling, and Kylo was finding that he rather liked it.
When Kylo suggested he should probably go find a rabbit or something for dinner, Poe seemed happy enough to watch over the mage until he returned, and Kylo had picked his way into the forest they were camping on the edge of with his head full of thoughts of Poe. His distraction had meant he took longer than usual to catch something, and when he got back, it was to find Poe backed against a tree, Hux threatening him using a dagger Kylo hadn't realised he'd had on him.
“Kylo!” Poe had shouted when he saw him – and again, the weird thing Kylo's heart did around Poe – equal parts relieved and pissed off.
Hux relaxed only slightly at knowing whose camp it was he had been brought to, and, once Kylo had convinced him to lower the weapon, he protested strongly that he didn't want anyone's help or charity, and that he was offended to have been carried around like some damsel. Poe told him he was very welcome to fuck off, but it soon became clear that Hux wasn't in any shape to be going off on his own, so he stayed with them that night.
Kylo was settling in to sleep on the opposite side of the fire to Hux when Poe dumped his bedroll down next to him, closer than usual – cue the weird heart thing again – and lay down. All Kylo had managed to ask was, “What are you doing?”
Huffing, Poe leaned up to peer over Kylo's arm at where Hux was lying, turned away from them on the far side of their little camp. “He tried to kill me today. I don't wanna wake up with my throat cut for some magey shit.”
Kylo considered pointing out that Poe wouldn't wake up at all if his throat had been slit, but he was more struck by the implication that Poe was trusting him to protect him. Usually, people were more likely to fear that Kylo would be the one killing them after whatever monster he'd been hired to dispatch, but Poe was different, and always had been, really. He insisted that Kylo had good in him, that he wasn't all the darkness that Witchers were supposed to be. He wasn't entirely right, of course, but it was nice to have someone hope in him.
So instead of making the bard move away, all Kylo had said was, “You'll get cold, so far from the fire,” and offered Poe an extra side of his own blanket.
One night of Hux staying with them turned into two, into three, into a week's travel to the neighbouring city. In fact, Kylo was almost sad to see the severe mage leave, as it meant he and Poe went back to their usual sleeping arrangements, instead of curling up together with Kylo as his shield.
[break]
Months later, to Kylo's surprise, Hux sought him out. He was after a gem of something something and he needed hired muscle that he could trust would actually get the job done. Hux had found them by the coast, and the first thing he said as he took Poe in was, “You're still travelling with him, are you?” Kylo wasn't sure whether the question was meant for him or Poe, but they'd both answered definitively.
The month and a half of travel it took to reach the mountain cave system in which the gem was kept saw Poe and Hux grow accustomed to each other, if not strictly friendly. Poe didn't resume his habit of sleeping next to Kylo, Hux didn't try to kill Poe again, and eventually they stopped speaking to each other in jibes and barbs.
Hux and Kylo also ended up bonding; they would sit together in taverns while Poe was performing and talk, about things that they remembered from when they were young, things Poe had learned only from his history professors. It was nice to have someone who related, who had experienced similar things to him, who understood what it was to be not-quite human and tied to a duty they didn't quite want. Hux had been raised in magic, it turned out, and, as they talked, Kylo realised it wasn't so different to being raised into killing as he had been. The small, commiserating smiles Hux offered struck Kylo deeply, and one day he realised that Hux, bathed in the yellow, glowing tavern light, was beautiful.
When they reached the cave systems that were their destination, Poe had to stay in the local town while Hux and Kylo went in search of the gem, since the place was too unknown and dangerous to risk him coming. And it did turn out to be dangerous; Hux and Kylo each saved each others' life a few times, had several close calls, and, once all the stress and danger of the adventure had turned into the satisfaction of success, they translated that pent-up tension into a vigorous fuck on the way out.
“I don't know why you keep him around,” Hux commented as they trudged back to the town to meet Poe, gem firmly in his grasp. “He can't help you with your work like I could.”
Kylo supposed that was true. “He helps me be better,” Kylo replied, which was also true.
Hux made a derisive sound. “Does he, now.”
Kylo shook his head at Hux's tone. “Why don't you like him? You have plenty in common.”
“It's not that I don't like him,” Hux said, tossing his head to get a strand of hair which had slipped in front of his eyes out of the way. Considering Kylo was grimy and dishevelled from the fighting, Hux's deep crimson tunic still looked remarkably put together, and it gave him a haughty air as he said, “I know his type. I've served them in courts all over the continent for centuries. They think they're entitled to everything without working for it and without thanking the people who actually make it possible. He's just another ungrateful, mortal noble.”
Kylo thought about what he said for a good minute. “You're wrong,” he said.
[break]
Back at the inn, Poe had the entire town in the palm of his hand thanks to his songs. He looked charming as ever, flashing smiles to all the ladies who were fawning over him, but Kylo was happy to see that, when Poe spotted them enter, his smile softened and a new light entered his eyes. This time, the flip in Kylo's heart felt more natural than ever.
When Kylo emerged from the bathhouse, Poe was already waiting in his room for a full account of the adventure so he could turn it into his latest ballad. Kylo related what happened as he usually did, keeping to the bare facts and trusting Poe to make them into pretty wordplay later, until he got to the end, at which point he decided that Poe didn't strictly need to know that Hux had pushed him up against the wall of the cave and kissed him with a ferocity he wasn't likely to forget any time soon.
But Poe noticed the brief hesitation and looked up from his little book where he'd been scribbling notes. “What?” he asked.
Kylo shrugged. “Nothing. We left to come back here,” he said, pulling the shirt he was wearing off and reaching for a different one.
“Did something bite you?”
Kylo could hear the frown in Poe's voice, and he turned back to see Poe's eyes locked on a slightly bruised, reddish ring low on his neck. A vague recollection surfaced in Kylo's mind of Hux tugging down his collar, once his outer layer of armour was off, and digging his teeth hard into the flesh over that spot. He hummed, reaching up to rub at it and thus hide it from Poe's sight. “Must have.”
Poe stood up and approached, batting Kylo's hand out of the way, which he couldn't find the motivation to resist. When Poe ran his thumb over the bruise, he was so warm Kylo pushed into the touch. If Poe noticed, he didn't comment, his brow was deeply furrowed. “What kind of monster even has teeth like that?”
A knock came on the door. “Kylo,” Hux called from outside, “we need to talk about payment.”
“I'm...” Kylo hesitated, feeling strangely and suddenly like he'd betrayed Poe. “I'm coming.”
Kylo wasn't sure what about him looked guilty, but Poe seemed to realise at that moment where the mark came from. “Oh,” he said, stepping away and back to his book.
Not long after that, Poe announced his intention to head back to his home kingdom. Kylo's mouth went dry. It was Hux who had to ask the platitudes – did he have some business to attend to? How long did he think he would stay? - which Poe replied to blandly, something about responsibility to his mentors. Kylo wanted to ask him to stop, to stay, but all he managed to get out was, “I'll miss you.”
[break]
Time passed.
Poe left for home, taking his light and song with him.
Kylo spent one winter with Hux, back in the keep where they'd first met, which Hux had appropriated for himself, but it was all wrong; there was a grounding influence missing, without which the two of them spent more time treating each other angrily than well. The sex was amazing, but eventually, it felt hollow. The day it became clear that the harshest weather had blown over, Kylo was back on Silence, looking for the next contract out on a monster, something he could hack into pieces without thinking.
The seasons changed, fled and returned until it had been another year. Kylo was firmly back in the blank swing of contract, monster, payment, move along, but the campfire felt lonely after dark, when he had nothing to occupy his mind. He started talking to Silence; she never replied.
Sometimes, Kylo found himself wondering how long it would be until he ran into Hux again, and if he would even want to see him. Maybe he could make the way they left things up to him. They'd had something, after all, and, though it hadn't been perfect, he missed that feeling of love and understanding and protection which Hux provided. Kylo didn't hold out much hope of seeing Poe; he never went near his home city, and why would Poe venture out again? He'd seen his share of the world. He was back in his real life, now.
But eventually, those nights of wondering wore Kylo down, and, quite without intending to, he found himself directing Silence down the path to the kingdoms neighbouring Poe's.
There, Kylo found himself invited to the royal tourney of Queen Phasma, as a guest of honour. She was a renowned warrior, and Kylo reasoned that it would be rude to decline the request of such an esteemed ruler. He reasoned that perhaps she would even have some work for him. He reasoned a lot of things, in his attempt to deny to himself that the real reason was hope that a tourney would be more than enough cause for a neighbouring noble to be in the area, or even just a bard...
The festivities were festivities. It was strange, to watch others fight instead of having to do it himself, and for performance rather than necessity. Though sometimes the rush of people grated on him, Phasma was a gracious host and Kylo enjoyed the good food well enough, always keeping an eye out for some shock of red hair, or those cheerful, dark curls he so hoped for.
His vigilance yielded one of those prizes.
A tall, beautiful, severe looking man entered the great hall one evening for the feast, walking directly up to the main table at which Phasma and Kylo were seated, and didn't even falter when he recognised Kylo's distinctive scar, yellow eyes, dark garb.
“Hux!” Phasma exclaimed standing and marching around the table to pull the man into a hug, which he returned with surprising readiness, “My dear friend, it has been too long!”
Hux gave a half-bow. “I'm sorry I'm late, I was caught up with business.”
“Ah, yes, business,” Phasma said knowingly, “and where is Lord Dameron?”
Hux's eyes flitted over to Kylo's for the briefest of seconds. “Altogether too caught up with his teaching to bother with a tournament, I'm afraid.”
“Well you must tell him I want him at the next one.” With that, she made to retake her seat again, gesturing at Kylo. “Kylo, this is Hux, currently an advisor to court in the neighbouring kingdom and the most talented mage in all the continent. Hux, Kylo, the Witcher.”
“Yes, we've met,” Hux understated, settling his gaze on Kylo fully, now, and extending his hand to Kylo over the table. Not sure what he was expected to do, Kylo gave Hux his hand, and Hux took it, raising it to his lips and kissing Kylo's knuckles.
Kylo wasn't entirely certain if he could blush any more, since the mutations which had turned him into a Witcher, but if he could, he was sure he was, what with so many people around to witness a display of affection which Kylo was unused to at the best of times. Along with that, relief, because it made him feel suddenly like all was forgiven without him having to wrangle the words around an apology.
“Hux, stop that and sit down!” Phasma reprimanded, “The players will begin soon.”
It was only as Hux sat down that Kylo realised the empty chair on his right had likely always been for Hux. No sooner had he settled than the players flooded the floor, dancing into their performance of an old, famous play, something about two supernatural kings vying for the affection of a mortal with all sorts of fanciful gifts.
“This version is better than the original,” Hux remarked a short while in, and Kylo hummed out an assent, though he had never seen it when it first was performed. He was probably too busy wading through drowner guts, or something similarly uncouth.
“So, you're in Poe's court, now?” Kylo asked instead. “Is he king?”
“No,” Hux remarked, picking up his goblet of wine and keeping his gaze on the players. “Nor does he want to be. The Queen has plenty of other worthy successors, and Poe would much rather go back to spending his days as a bard.” He tutted. “Even if he doesn't say so.”
“Why are you there?”
He sighed. “I wanted to see what you meant about him not being like the others, so I offered my services to the Queen.” Kylo hummed again, and this time, Hux turned to look at him. “You were quite right. He's different. I find myself rather taken with him.”
Kylo reached for his own wine now, his mouth suddenly dry. “Oh. Have you..?”
“No. Kylo...” Hux placed his cup down and leaned to the side so his shoulder was brushing Kylo's, even as Kylo was resolutely not looking at him. “He misses you. And I know you miss him.”
As if by design, the lutist started to play, and both their eyes went to the young woman performing in the corner. Kylo found himself thinking, perhaps uncharitably, that she wasn't as talented as Poe, her song wasn't as sweet.
Hux didn't fail to notice this. “I think we should travel together again,” he said.
“We?”
“You and I and Poe,” Hux said, as though it were obvious. “Like we did those few months travelling in from the coast. I've found myself thinking about them a lot.”
Kylo shrugged. “It was only a few months. Things have changed since then.”
“Which is why we should give it another try.” Kylo jolted in slight surprise when he felt Hux's cool hand lay over his own on the arm of the chair. He turned to find Hux looking directly into his eyes. “Stay here for a week after the tourney is over, and I'll have convinced him to come. Kylo.” A tacit command from Hux, as usual, instead of a request.
Kylo nodded.
[break]
So Kylo waited by the city gates, where Hux had sent a messenger bird that he should meet them. He was nervous, when he first spotted the black dot on the distant path that he was sure was them, shuffling from one foot to the other and gripping Silence's reins tight, like that would do anything. He was wondering how he should greet Poe; hello, certainly, and he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from smiling, but he found that he also wanted to give him a hug, press their lips together, feel that he was really thereagain, after the nearly two years they'd spent apart.
It turned out he needn't have worried, since Poe sprang forward and clasped him into a hug without prompting, talking immediately about where they would be going and how good it would be to be back on the road.
Hux had merely given him a look that said I told you so, and followed after the excitable bard.
That had been nearly two weeks ago.
It turned out that Hux was entirely right; things were different than before, and they were better. The things that had changed were these:
Hux had brought a horse with him, this time, and several other magical items, such as a tent which was far larger inside than it appeared. Poe hadn't bothered with a horse, since he hadn't needed one before, and had thus left the money with which to pay for its upkeep back at home, planning instead to sing for his money like he used to. Kylo rather liked this; it reminded him of old times, when he steadfastly refused to let Poe ride Silence, in case it tired her out too much. The tent, on the other hand, felt annoyingly like Hux was living in style while the two of them were stuck outside, since Hux had never invited them in and Kylo, for one, wasn't about to invite himself.
It seemed Hux and Poe had also developed a much closer friendship, in the time Hux had spent at court. It made Kylo feel a little like he had missed out, like he had time to catch up on, like there was something impenetrable he couldn't access. Kylo supposed it must be similar for Hux, since he and Poe had known each other for so long before he met them, and again for Poe, given that winter when it was only him and Hux, but times like these – Poe and Hux discussing something so academic that Kylo knew so little about – could be daunting as much as interesting.
Mostly, Kylo felt like he still had to make something up to Poe, and he wasn't sure how to do it. He should probably just have a conversation with him about it, but the words never came, and bringing it up when nobody was thinking about it would, he was sure, just sour the mood. And if he just left it, the tension would have to break eventually.
[break]
Ahead of him on the road, Hux and Poe's little argument seemed to have reached a peak point. Kylo had been too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to what they were saying, but now Poe had stopped walking, raising open arms in that way of his that was almost defeated, but actually said he still thought he was right. It was very cute, like he was a turtle with a lute for a shell, and Kylo couldn't help but think his annoyed expression was charming as well.
When Silence reached the spot where Poe was standing, watching Hux ride on with his usual haughty confidence, Kylo hummed. “Did he win?”
Poe huffed, moving again to keep up with Silence's ambling pace. “No, but he's acting like he did. He always thinks he's right.”
Kylo thought about it for a beat; Hux did indeed always think that he was right. It was one of the things that had caused friction in their attempt at a relationship that one winter. It wasn't that all three of them couldn't be stubborn, more that Kylo and Poe had much more ability to hold out against each other's pestering than either of them seemed to have against Hux. One narrowing twitch of those steely-grey eyes, and anyone with even half a sense of self-preservation would surrender. So Kylo could sympathise with Poe's little pout.
They came to the edge of the forest, the village where they planned to stop a short way before them across a few fields. Kylo drew Silence to a halt and put out a hand to Poe, who looked at it first with surprise and then joy. He quickly allowed Kylo to help him up, settling just behind the Witcher, his chest pressed to his back, their thighs brushing against each other with every movement. Kylo could feel it all, and he tried not to let his stomach flip too much when Poe's arms snaked around his sides, hands locking at his front. He cursed inwardly that today he'd chosen to forgo some layers in favour of his cooler shirt.
But then Poe was saying to him over his shoulder – though it felt more like murmuring in his ear - “Come on, I wanna see Hux's face.”
Kylo prodded Silence to walk on, closing the distance on Hux. As they passed, Kylo felt Poe remove one hand to wave at the mage. Looking around, it was in almost slow motion that Hux's expression went from one of mild astonishment to annoyance to jealousy.
“See you there, Hugs!” Poe said, and Kylo smiled to himself.
This is a section from a darkgingerpilot Witcher au I was discussing with @letoatreiides and then wrote like 10 pages of instead of doing my required reading :/ Anyway, Kylo’s a Witcher, Hux is a mage, Poe’s your highly talented bard.
“Did something bite you?”
Kylo could hear the frown in Poe's voice, and he turned back to see Poe's eyes locked on a slightly bruised, reddish ring low on his neck. A vague recollection surfaced in Kylo's mind of Hux tugging down his collar, once his outer layer of armour was off, and digging his teeth hard into the flesh over that spot. He hummed, reaching up to rub at it and thus hide it from Poe's sight. “Must have.”
Poe stood up and approached, batting Kylo's hand out of the way, which he couldn't find the motivation to resist. His brow was deeply furrowed. “What kind of monster even has teeth like that?”
A knock came on the door. “Kylo,” Hux called from outside, “we need to talk about payment.”
