hello i really hope i dont come off as rude or demanding but i just wanna ask if its in your plans to continue bloodbound and in the generals bed. dont get me wrong, i absolutely love lie to me, but i kinda miss your other stories, mainly bloodbound cause its different from most hux stories out there
Hi, darling xD
Don’t worry about asking. I really don’t mind. And I know it’s really been a while since I last posted BB and ITGB.
I have most of chapter 4 of BB written already, I just have to finish it, and I haven’t even started ITGB xD
The real problem is that I got tangled with many ongoing stories. I had 8 ongoing stories, last April I finished one of them and right now I have three stories which are almost over, one of them is Lie to Me. Not to mention all the personal and professional stuff going on right now xD
I stopped writing all the other stories this month to see if I can finish at least one or two of these three stories. Right now, I’m writing chapter 25 of Lie to Me and I’m having much fun writing the interaction between Hux and General Pryde.
I hope I can be back to weekly updates, and I’m really sorry I’m making you wait so long for new chapters. Thank you all for being so understanding. Love you all
In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 5 - To misjudge a General
A/N - Hello, darlings! Here I am to update ITGB. I almost didn’t have enough time to come here and update this chapter. Anyways, I don’t really have much time now, so I’ll keep things short... I hope you like it and for the new readers, thank you for leaving notes :) I hope you like this chapter.
Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].
Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.
Subconsciously, your hands patted the side of the bed looking for Armitage. Empty. He was nowhere to be found.
With a disappointed sigh, you ran your hands through your tangled hair, all the while doing your best not to cry — from frustration or anger or whatever.
The ‘I’m giving you no heir whatsoever’ rule had gone to hell last night, as you could be very pregnant as of now.
A groan of utter despair left you.
A click on the door made you shift on the bed and adjust the blankets over your naked frame. You looked up to see Rae stretching the curtains open. She wore a serious expression — not that you had seen any other, but you thought she was even more I’m-all-business than usual.
“I am assuming you told him.”
You rolled your eyes and pulled the pillow to your face. You usually loved bright mornings, but specifically today you hated it; all you wanted was for the world to end in rain, so you could sleep to the next week till you forgot your miserable existence.
Why did you have to be so foolish? How could you just give in?
Instead, you tried to humor yourself by provoking Rae Sloane, “Oh, good morning to you too, milady.”
As expected, there was no answer on her part. Only silence. It forced you to remove the pillow from your face and sit on the mattress, clutching the blankets to your chin. She sat on the ottoman, not very keen on getting near the place where you and Hux had… well… had sex… made love? You did not know what to make out of it — it is the situation between you and your husband and not Rae’s antics.
If the circumstances were any different you would have laughed at her face and said you had used the ottoman, but aside the fact you would be telling a lie, you could not think of joking right now.
“I feel stupid,” you finally said, looking at her face. If you expected to find comfort there, you would have to look somewhere else. Her expression denounced nothing — not judgment, nor understanding.
“For doing what’s expected of you?” she retorted, not unkindly. If coming from anyone else, those words would have felt like a slap, but you understood what Rae meant. She only said what society expected of women like you.
For loving him, you could have said, but Rae, just like Hux, had no time to talk about love. You doubted she even believed in it.
“Is that why you never got married?”
She nodded.
You opened your mouth to say something, but she beat you to it, “You would. You didn’t want anything else.”
It was your time to nod. You felt the telltales of tears in your eyes. You rubbed your nose and swallowed hard.
“I wanted him to love me…” you commented quietly after a while.
You expected her to be keep her opinion to herself, as usual, but her answer came quick and this time her words were meant to hurt, “Get a grip of yourself, (Y/N). Love is not everything in a marriage.”
You could almost hear Hux’s words.
Marriage is not about love, you should know that by now.
“I married him because I love him.”
Rae snorted.
The sound was so much alike Hux it made you want to throw up.
“You married him because your father needed money and he married you because he needed a title. Feelings had nothing to do with it.”
You swallowed…
…and bit your bottom lip to prevent the need to cry. Her words stung — more than they should have, more than should be right.
Because… honestly, you knew they rang true.
Everything Rae Sloane ever said — to you, to anyone — was truthful. Even if they hurt — she knew how to hurt you, how to hurt people —, she never told a lie. It was against her code — whatever that was.
“And stop with these childish rules of yours and give him a damned heir.”
You even thought about opening your mouth to protest, but her serious eyes kept you silent. You bit your bottom lip.
“I know you want to be the wife of a Prime Minister. Adopting Lux won’t be enough to convince the King or the Ton of your aptitude as a couple to take such position.”
She rose from the ottoman and opened the door for the drawing room. From the bed, you could see a bathtub in the center of the room and your lady’s maid throwing some perfumed lotions in it.
“Now get up,” she said, her lips pursed into a harsh line. “We shall take Lux to Hyde Park and I need your help with a few decisions concerning the brewery in Ireland.”
You wanted to say she could go to hell together with that brewery of Hux, but you bit your tongue. She said that with the best of intentions in mind. Although she knew she hurt you — she wanted to hurt you —, she had only your best interests at heart.
“Fine.” You clutched the blankets to your frame as you strolled out of the bedroom. “But for the record, whatever decision we make together, I don’t want Hux to know.”
The sides of her lips tilted into a small, barely noticeable smile. You caught yourself mimicking her even before her answer came to fruition in her mouth, “He won’t even dream of it, milady.”
“Mama!”
You shrugged from your thoughts and looked at him. He had his doe, chestnut eyes totally focused on you, his ginger brows arched in confusion. You had been playing quoits for the past half-hour — Lux did not leave any room for you and Rae to have a decent conversation, which frustrated you —, but you have spaced out more than once.
“I’m sorry, Little Lord, I got carried out,” you replied, patting his hair lovingly. He giggled a bit, before putting on a serious façade. He held your hands between his, much smaller and chubby ones, getting you away from his head, “Oh, right!” You smiled. “You’re a grown up and grown-ups don’t have their hair messed up by another grown-up.”
He nodded, very much focused on your fingers. You tilted your head a little, recalling how he used to hold onto them for dear life when he was but a few days old. It was still weird to think four years had gone by since you first held him in your arms and lulled him to sleep.
“And neither they call someone their mama.” Rae stated, her dark eyes thoroughly focused on you. Her hawk-like attention made you shiver and drop Lux’s hands immediately.
“They… don’t?” he asked in confusion. His brows shot up, his eyes were very much widened. He knew that depending on Rae’s answer, he would have to let go of his first — and favorite — word in the world. “Why not?”
“Because it not part of an adult’s vocabulary.” Another voice — different and so foreign —, with a melodious and almost sugary accent, made the three of you look up. A few meters from you, casting a shadow over the glorious, warm sun, stood the figure of someone you did not expect to see anytime soon.
Before you could help yourself, your hand shot to your womb.
Your action did not go unnoticed by neither Rae, nor Hux. He narrowed his eyes at you; his face growing somber at your gesture. The first, however, was the one to clear her throat, dragging your attention to the matter at hand. Your hand fell to your sides immediately.
“Lady Sindian,” you greeted in a low voice. You bowed your head, but did not give her the curtesy of a proper bow.
She pursed her lips into a thin line. It was crystal clear she simply hated when someone did not follow the proper etiquette, even if this someone was above her social status. As a Marquise, you held more power in your hands than she did with her Countess title.
You could almost say she was seething inside, dying to correct you in your antics. Hux’s eyes were still on you, intense and unreadable.
“Marchioness, what a pleasure meeting you after such lengthy retirement.” She performed an almost dramatic bow. “I hope you found the countryside to your liking.”
You exhaled long and deeply. She was playing a dangerous game and you did not know how long you would be able to control yourself, before you gave the answer she so deserved. You cast an accusatory glance at Hux, not at all surprised to find his face blank and expressionless.
He offered his hand for you to take, helping you to your feet. His hand stationed at the small of your back was no more than a warning for you to think through your next words.
You almost snorted.
He still cared about her opinion.
The need to put Lady Carise Sindian back in her place grew stronger. You swallowed. You really did not care about his past lovers — you knew that contrary to you, he had had others before your marriage —, but this woman could be as hateful as your own father. If not worse.
Perhaps she was hateful because your father was hateful to her in the first place, but at the moment, all rationality had left you.
The sound of Lux clicking his tongue in a childish manner to distract himself of your tiring and boring grown-up interaction made the three of you look at him. Your eyes grew softer at the sight of him making noises with his mouth.
“Lady Sindian, I want you to know Lux Dameron,” you said, placing both hands on his small shoulders. He stopped making those noises altogether and cast an adoringly glance at you. “Lux, this is Lady Carise Sindian.”
He looked at you, and then at Rae. At her nod, he bowed dutifully — an imitation of a perfect, even if diminutive, Lord. Still shy and conscious of his missing front tooth, he did not say anything. Rae offered her hand to him and he accepted it readily.
“He’s…” She looked at you and then her attention shifted to Hux; her eyes took her time analyzing his face, “got a very remarkable red hair.”
You even opened your mouth to reply, but his hand running soothingly over your arm shut you for once. He took the opportunity to entwine your fingers with his, squeezing them lightly. It made you freeze in place, but conscious of her rapt attention, you did not move away.
Lady Carise narrowed her eyes at the gesture. A small smile lifted the corner of her lips. She knew you were nervous, so you tried to relax in his arms, aware of her curious and so very cunning eyes on you.
“I admire your attitude,” she started, wetting her lips. “It’s a very touching and beautiful gesture.”
You swallowed, not very keen on giving her any reply, but as Hux squeezed your fingers harder, you forced yourself to speak, “Thank you, Countess.”
She made a perfect curtsy, even though her astute eyes remained focused on your husband. You pursed your lips into a thin line.
“I assume I will be seeing the two of you in two days’ time.”
When she was far away, you yanked your arm from his grasp and turned to face him; your lavender dress floated around you.
“You should have let me give her the answer she deserved.”
He moved his hand to remove a strand of hair from your face, but you took a step back, broadening the distance between you. His arms fell to his sides.
“I would rather not give her any reasons to keep pestering you or Lux.”
“Or Rae,” you replied. “She acted as if Rae didn’t even exist. Just because she doesn’t have a nobiliary title, it doesn’t mean she’s a servant. Or a slave. She treated Rae as if she were a slave, Armitage!”
Actually, she was a servant. She has always been and you knew that. However, you considered her family and you wanted her to be treated as such. Not a lowly servant who became instantly invisible in the company of people such as Lady Carise or even the — ugh, how you hated him — disgusting Agent Terex.
“Rae can take care of herself,” Hux replied quietly.
It irked you.
His apparent concern for your well-being.
You did not need that.
You did not want that.
“I can take care of myself very well, thank you.” You turned on your heels to follow Rae and Lux to the carriage, only to find them already gone. You grimaced. Rae Sloane would pay for that. “That’s what I have been doing for the last five years.”
It was barely an hour after you returned from the park when you found yourself in front of his study room. You raised your hand to knock at the double doors, but held yourself.
You were still angry with him.
You did not want to see his face.
You did not want to be in his presence.
You did not want to talk to him.
However, he had politely asked for your presence.
Not demanded.
But asked.
He knew that otherwise you would just ignore him and mind your own business — which, at the time, involved picking a dress for the upcoming Ball at Lady Sindian’s manor in couple of days. You had no intention of accepting her invitation, but Lady Organa’s small note had you changing your mind and besides, after today’s event, you knew that hiding from her would do your image — Hux’s image — no good.
Breathing through your nose, you knocked on the wooden doors. His voice came shortly after, welcoming you with a firm, even if low, Enter.
You placed your hand on the doorknob and slowly poked your head in. Focused on a series of reports, he did not raise his eyes to face you. And even after you closed the door quietly after yourself and stopped in front of his desk, he merely ordered you to take your seat.
After a few seconds passed in silence, you cleared your throat, “Listen, can we make this quick?” You breathed deeply. You could distinguish the smell of tobacco in the air. “I have somewhere else to be.”
You even turned around, but before you could go far, his voice was finally heard, “I never allowed you to leave.” You looked back at him, your eyes narrowed. “Now, sit.”
“I said I have somewhere else to be,” you replied, doing your best not to snap at him.
“I already asked Rae to take Lux to the eatery in Mayfair.”
You raised your chin, keen on saying that was not where you had to be, but decided against it. It would be a waste of precious time. He already knew the truth. And if he sent Rae away with Lux, it was because he had an important matter to discuss with you.
“Now sit.”
Begrudgingly, you did as he said, taking your seat in front of him. He had a bottle of brandy in his desk, which he opened and poured some into a glass for him. You waited for him to fill a second glass, which did not happen.
You arched a brow...
…and reached for the glass yourself. He held your wrist between his hands a bit more forcefully than usual, making you gasp.
His impossibly blue eyes were narrowed.
“We won’t know until a few weeks later…” you commented quietly, gazing into his orbs. He let go of your wrist and you quickly recoiled it, cradling it with your other hand, your fingers rubbing soothing circles over your pulse.
“We shouldn’t take any risks,” he replied. His voice not giving away any indication of excitement nor hope. It seemed like any other chore he had to perform.
It made you bit your bottom lip to suppress the need to cry in frustration. It had been a while since you last felt this humiliated. You wondered if this day could go any worse.
And as much as Rae Sloane’s words rang true — they always did —, you could not help but regret last night.
…give him a damned heir…
You rose to your feet.
Easier said than done.
If after your first night together you hoped for a child to be growing up in your womb, this time you hoped for his seed to be as weak as your legs right now. You did not want for it to take root in your body.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice genuinely curious.
You did not look at him as you headed to the exit. You even touched the doorknob, but before you could leave, he was behind you, both hands firmly placed on the wood, caging you between the door and his arms.
It took him a while to say any words, which only made your heart sped at the proximity of your bodies. He lowered his head to yours, his warm breath against your ear as he twirled a strand of your hair in his index finger.
“What is wrong with you?”
Aware you could not break free from his grasp — even if your bodies were quite not touching —, you shifted, facing him. You placed both hands on his chest, to keep him at bay, but that only served to remind you how you sank your short, polished nails in that very same spot last night.
As if burned, you let your hands fall to your sides.
“There is nothing wrong with me,” you finally said, your whispered tone made him inch a bit closer to hear you better. “I am just not in the mood for any games today.”
He arched a ginger eyebrow at your words.
You did not know if he was genuinely confused or…
…if he was playing you.
“I thought that after last night, you would be more pliant to a conversation—
You did not let him finish his sentence, hitting him square in the face. It tilted to the side abruptly. Your eyes widened as he shifted his attention back to you; a fillet of blood tinted his lip. You looked back at your left hand, finding the same crimson color smeared over your wedding band.
“Because of course I would be pliant after I woke up alone in the bed for the second time after you have your way with me!”
His nostrils flared visibly, but he did not express in words how offended he was at your words or your slap. A perfect gentleman, he stepped away from you and returned to his desk. He placed both hands over the wooden surface, his back facing you.
“I trust you had a good morning with Lady Sindian. Thanks to you, mine was unforgettable.”
He did not give you an answer.
Of course he did not.
So you pressed him, keen on yanking at least a loud reaction from him. A sharp intake of breath and nostrils flaring would simply not do. You wanted to make him feel guilty, to make him understand your disappointment and anger. Pain. He had to know what he did to you with his dismissive posture yet again.
“…Perhaps reviving the glorious days of your past with her.”
He squared his shoulders…
…and that was all.
You wanted to take off your shoes and throw it at his head. Perhaps after a concussion he would consider you worthy of his attention.
Instead, you just watched as he lit his cigar and brought it to his lips, inhaling the smoke sharply.
“Your jealousy is flattering, however misplaced.” He exhaled the smoke this time, creating circles in the air. “Now, leave.” His toneless voice was more than enough to make you legs go weak and the tears prick the corner of your eyes.
You wanted him to feel guilty, but all you accomplished was to stroke his ego.
Before he could see you cry — because of him, because you hated him, hated to feel anything for him —, you left the study, closing the door forcefully behind yourself. You had barely taken two steps away in the corridor when you heard a loud noise. It was not needed to be a genius to know he had thrown everything from his desk in anger.
With tears in your eyes, you felt your lips curving into a small, but victorious smile.
At least you managed to yank some fucking reaction from him.
You woke up a good couple of hours later. After that ridiculous fight — which you lost, you were perfectly aware of that —, you felt spent. Exhausted, really.
Heading back to your room, you did not even remove your clothes before you fell on the mattress. You missed lunch and given the darkness of your chambers you realized you missed supper as well.
And even if you felt famished, you were glad you were not there to see his hateful face or endure Rae’s analytical dark eyes over the two of you.
There was a light knock on your door and the whispered voices of Lux and his tutoress made you straighten your dress and your messed hair.
“Come in.” Your voice was still heavy with sleep as you walked towards the anteroom. Behind the preceptress, Rae Sloane stared at you with raised eyebrows. She held a folder closer to her chest, making you wonder if she had some Aesop fables stored there to read for you out loud.
You swallowed, but decided not to give her much attention. You kneeled in front of Lux and adjusted his pajamas.
“I brought him to say goodnight, Your Ladyship,” the tutoress said. “He was worried about you.”
“Aww, were you, Little Lord?” You tapped his small nose, making him giggle. He put both arms around your neck and gave you a tight — or as tight as possible for his diminutive and chubby frame — hug.
You embraced him back, holding him flush against your frame. You kissed his temples lovingly. The moment between you did not last, however, for Rae cleared her throat, dragging your attention to her.
“Your soup will get cold,” she said, motioning for the preceptress to take Lux away. Your lady’s maid entered the anteroom fully, placing the tray with your soup over the coffee table. The young girl excused herself shortly after.
“I am not hungry.” You tightened your hold around him. What you last wanted right now was another sort of lecture from her.
Sensing the heavy atmosphere, he broke away from you and placed a toffee in your hand. You furrowed your brows, unable to understand his action.
“It’s for Lord Hux.” He leaned into you and whispered in your ear — even if it sounded too loud for everyone to hear — “He is in a bad mood.”
You smiled in spite of yourself.
Bestowing a brief kiss upon his cheeks — which he wiped with his chubby hand —, you prompted him towards his tutoress. He took her hand, and together they left the anteroom.
Rae Sloane closed the door behind herself. You gulped as her words reached your ears.
“We have to talk.”
It was with some sort of surprise that you found yourself sitting on the bed with Rae behind you, her hands working swiftly in your hair. You even thought about telling her to stay away from you, but decided against it.
She had yet to say anything, and the way her fingers combed your strands into a loose braid made you sleepy all over again. You had just eaten, and the hot soup made you more compliant to get some more rest.
You even dozed off a few times, but a firm tug in your hair made you yelp in pain.
“What was that for?” You turned to face her, snapping her hands away from you.
She glared at you, her face hiding nothing of her discontentment. “I asked you a question.”
“You could have asked nicely again,” you replied. “And if you are going to tell me I was childish earlier, I know that. You don’t have to lecture me nor defend your precious Armitage.”
It was clear she would have rolled her eyes if she were any other woman. If that was not an act bellow her.
“I don’t have time to defend that moron,” she replied, her hands falling to her lap. “But my heart is swelled with pride that you know you were stupid and childish.”
Your mouth opened in a big O.
You did not know if you should feel flattered that she agreed with you — more than a moron, Hux was a jerk and you hated him — or offended that she thought you stupid and childish.
Closing you lips into a thin line, you took the hairclip from the mattress and put it in your tresses yourself.
“And what do you want?” you asked after a few seconds in silence.
“To talk about the brewery.”
You furrowed your brows.
And the next words to leave her lips left you completely flabbergasted, “I need your help.”
What?
“And how could I help you?” You reached for her forehead. She was surely sick. She snapped your hands away harshly. You let out a breathy ouch at her action. “I thought Armitage had Lord Mitaka to oversee his business personally in Ireland.”
You hesitantly accepted the folder she offered. Opening the files, you were startled to see the numbers. In the last two years, the brewery showed a decline in almost every important aspect of production. The sales were compromised and even the production was below average for this time of the year.
“That’s…” You wetted your lips. “Worse than I expected.” You took a few minutes analyzing the reports she had in her possession, humming here and there as you came across a decline in numbers. The percentage of dismissed employees was astounding, even for a business as large as that. “I was led to believe the brewery was the second most important in the Kingdom.”
“It was,” she replied quietly. “But it was mismanaged the time he spent away in the War.”
You pursed your lips.
Well, he would know if he ever came back, you felt like saying. Instead, you asked, “And what does he intend to do with this scenery?”
Her answer came quicker than you expected, “I am showing you this, so you could ask him.”
You threw your head back and laughed.
“He won’t listen to a word I have to say. You know that.”
This time, Rae Sloane rolled her eyes. She really rolled her eyes. You stared at her agape, letting go of the reports easily as she snatched them away from you.
“You underestimate your importance in his life.”
“You underestimate your importance in his life… As if!” You repeated her words mockingly. Not even her narrowed eyes made you stop. “He doesn’t care about me, Rae! If he cared, he would not have left me this morning to confabulate and gods-know-what with that… Old rag.”
She breathed deeply through her nose. It was clear she lost her patience with you centuries ago.
“That old rag is my age, (Y/N).”
Oops.
You even opened your mouth to apologize. To say she was different, classy and very much young for her age, but you knew that one could not buy Rae Sloane with sweet, fake words. You clamped your mouth shut.
Crap.
“Your jealousy will lead you nowhere.”
“I am not jealous!” You snorted. “Why does everyone think I am jealous?”
“Because you are,” she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked at you and with a calmer tone, she added, “listen, he was with her this morning because he needed a loan.”
You gasped.
“You are too quick to judge him.”
You bit the inside of your cheeks.
“I am—
“I am not done yet.” Her icy tone made you swallow. You nodded, giving her permission to continue — as if she needed it, “You’re insufferable. You say you want him to love you, but do you love him, (Y/N)?”
You opened your mouth, ready to come up with a reply, but she raised her finger, silencing you immediately.
“I don’t think you do.”
Not knowing what to say, you pursed your lips into a thin line. You did not want to hear her words. She simply did not understand. It was not like she could understand — she did not even believe in love, for God’s sake!
Rae rose to her feet, folder under one arm, and walked towards the doors; gray dress swinging behind herself. Before she could leave, however, she looked at you over her shoulders, “You believe you love him, but you don’t.” She placed her hand on the doorknob. “What you love is this romanticized and distorted image of Armitage you created when you were a child.”
And just like that, she left.
You stared at the closed double doors agape. Not knowing what to do with her sudden — and unusual — outburst.
Falling back on the bed, you brought the pillow to your face and hit the mattress several times with your legs. How you wished for a torrential rainy day since morning, you would not even leave the comfort of your room in the first place.
Could this day get any worse?
You had no idea what time it was when you woke up startled.
Once more you reached for the bed, only to find it empty. It filled you with… both relief and disappointment. It was paradoxical, you knew, but you wanted him away and closer at the same time.
Rae’s words would not leave your mind.
Plaguing you with their rawness. She was rude. She meant to be. But she did not want to hurt you unnecessarily. She never did anything without some purpose — even if you could not comprehend where she was headed to with that crudity of hers.
You loved Hux.
Of course you did.
You worshiped the very ground he walked on since you were a child. How could this not be love? Besides, Rae Sloane did not love anyone — except for Lux and Hux himself, but that was different. It was not the same kind of love. They were intrinsically different.
As day and night.
As water and fire.
As earth and air.
Of course you romanticized him — which kind of person would not? Reality was not as beautiful as the fantasy. Any sane person fantasized at least a little.
You bit your bottom lip.
You were giving Rae’s words more attention than they deserved. There were far more pressing matters, such as Hux’s loan. Why in hell would he get a loan from Lady Sindian when he was wealthier than she was?
He was like the wealthier person you had ever met.
It simply made no sense.
You understood that the situation in the brewery was not looking good. Your father always said that desperate times call for desperate measures, but this was a bit too much. Certainly the numbers were not that bad, right? Not to the point he had to align himself to that hideous, greedy creature.
Grabbing your dressing gown from over your ottoman you set to find him. He was probably in his study room — drinking, or smoking — working on his paperwork. He has always been such a workaholic!
You opened the door to your anteroom and stepped outside, careful not to wake up anyone. Tiptoeing, you approached one of the windows in the long corridor of the third floor and saw some movement in the stables.
The light was very scarce. It took you a while to identify who was adjusting a saddle on a horse. You squinted your eyes and…
Fuck!
He was leaving.
You quickly ran across the corridor — the thoughts of not awaking anybody left your mind completely — and climbed down the stairs, two steps at a time, sometimes three — or as much as your legs allowed you.
It was only when you reached the outside that you realized your improper clothes and your lack of shoes. You almost yelped as your feet met the cold paving stones of the yard. Yet, you persisted, running towards the stable. Towards him.
Breathless, and with your heart on the verge of escaping your mouth, you reached him. Mounting his black mare, he was about to cross the gates. You stopped in front of him, holding the animal’s rein with all your might.
Actually, you did not know if you did it to hold yourself on your feet — you were definitely not used to such intense exercise; running after something, whatever it was, was bellow women of your social status — or to stop him.
In any way, the animal got scared and reared. He yanked the reins from your hands and held onto its large neck to remain seated. He looked at one of the guards, and one of them pulled you backwards, moving you away from the entrance. Other two closed the gates in a hurry.
It took him a while and some soothing words to calm the mare. The animal trotted a few times, neighing loudly. The General patted its neck twice, in a comforting gesture. Then, he shifted his attention to you.
“Have you gone insane?”
You twisted your wrist, breaking free from the servant. He took two steps away from you and bowed his head in an apologetic gesture. Neither you, nor the General paid him any attention.
Walking back towards the mare, you caressed her muzzle slightly, letting her smell you. When the animal neighed appreciatively, you muttered a low, “Sorry, big girl. It was never my intention to scare you.” To your husband, you merely said under your breath, “Also I am not insane.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, moving the animal aside. He gestured for the guards to open the gates once again, but you held his wrist.
Not keen on causing a scene, he broke free from your grasp — using the same technique you used on the guard; he had been the one to teach you that after all — and merely said, “Go back to sleep. Whatever you want to say can wait till tomorrow morning.”
You bit the inside of your cheeks.
“If you leave, I swear to God, Amirtage, I will get another horse and follow you. Dressed. Like. This.”
He glared at you…
…but did nothing else. He did not leave. He did not say he agreed to talk to you. He knew you fairly well by now to know you would follow him, unclothed as you were.
“Where are you going?” you asked, only to receive no answer. You arched your brows and pressed the matter, “I want to go with you.”
“You are not going (Y/N),” he replied, his patience wearing thin. “Now, move.”
You glared at him.
“Give me your coat,” you said to the same guard who had moved you away from the gates. He looked at you and then at the General, not knowing what to do. “That’s an order!” He started peeling his coat slowly, as if too stunned to act more quickly. “Now, remove your trousers as well.”
“Y-Your Ladyship!” His voice was no more than a shocked shriek. He continued to look frantically between you and the General, at loss for words.
Hux’s nostrils flared.
“Go get dressed,” he told you. “You have ten minutes.” A small smile curved your lips. You had won this battle at least. “I will leave you behind if you don’t return in this timeframe.”
To the scared guard — you would have to make it up to him one of these days —, you said, “Keep an eye on him. If he leaves before I return, you can shoot him.”
The General did not say where you were headed to. He simply set a quick pace over his black mare, forcing you to hold onto his arms around you more forcefully.
Although you could ride as easily as you could breath, you decided not to get a horse for yourself. Instead, you decided to ride with your husband. Your back was to his chest and his breath was directly to your ears.
Needless to say, he was rather displeased when you decided to sit astride the mare, like he did — like a man, what a scandal! — but he did nothing to stop you. Instead, he set a punishing pace over his old companion, expecting you to beg him to go slower.
It only made you laugh.
The wind messed your unkept hair and castigated your face — the ear that was not on the receiving end of his warm breath was about to falling off —, but you would be damned before you begged him to stop.
The faster his mare went, the harder you laughed.
After a while, he brought the animal to a stop. You heard the water running before you saw it. It took you a few seconds to realize he had brought you to Hyde Park. You were currently in a far corner of the park. The moon high up in the sky was reflected over the Serpentine lake, shyly illuminating the scenery.
He dismounted and offered you one of his hands, the other moved to your waist, helping you down. Armitage even tried to break apart at the same moment, but you tightened your hold onto his shoulders, keeping your body close to his.
His warm breath fanned your face, but he said nothing. You could smell both tobacco and whisky. It was not that strong; more of a lingering scent.
“I am sorry,” you whispered after a while.
Now — after being lectured by Rae and thinking your earlier fight through — you knew that besides having had only a business reunion with Lady Sindian — he could not blame you for keep thinking… —, you knew what he meant when he said the words pliant and last night in the same sentence.
He never meant it in a… sexual way. It was about your conversation and the fact you had opened up to each other last night.
Your heart was heavy with guilty. If only you had thought before snapping at him. If only he had left you a note...
“I am sorry I snapped at you,” you said quietly. “But you have to understand it’s highly traumatizing for me to wake up alone in our bed.”
Hux took the opportunity to break apart and put a few steps between you. He walked towards the lake, watching the calm water with his arms folded at his chest. The mare, called Millicent — a homage to his old tabby cat that died a few days before your wedding —, far too well trained, merely grazed the grass and occasionally neighed happily.
Stepping towards him, you took your time to stare at the moon through the lake. But before you could get closer, you stopped on your tracks as his bluish eyes set on you, “Care to explain your childish behavior?”
You rolled your eyes, which made him inhale sharply.
Clearly, if you were a child, he was far from the fun adult stereotype.
“Why didn’t you tell me about getting a loan with Lady Sindian?”
He snorted.
“I am impressed Rae did not tell you sooner.”
You felt highly offended at his cruel words. Not for yourself, but for Rae. She did not deserve such harsh treatment from him.
This time, his cold stare was not sufficient to make you stop. You walked to him, stopping right in front of him, invading his personal space. If he stepped back, he would only prove he was intimidated by someone smaller than him, younger than him, more of a child than him.
“Believe it or not, she is very loyal to you.”
He did not say anything to that.
He knew the truth.
He may not want to acknowledge it, but he knew.
Deep down, he knew.
“She came to me about the brewery…” you started, folding your arms at your chest as well. It was a chilly night, and in your hurry to get to him before his ten-minute mark, you forgot to get a mantle.
Always the gentleman, he removed his own and placed it over your shoulders. This time, he did not retreat. He held onto the lapels of his mantle, keeping you close as he whispered, “I wasn’t aware you were an expert.”
You glared at him, but instead of removing his hands from you, you directed yours to his face. If he wanted to intimidate you, he would have to try harder.
“You underestimate me, my Lord.”
When he did not give you a reply, you continued, “You said I am someone entirely different since you left.” You wetted your bottom lip. “You’re right. I have changed, but you have changed as well.”
He did not give you an answer. He removed both hands from his mantle, letting them fall to his sides. You even thought about mimicking him, but you wanted his complete attention. You brushed your fingers against his cheeks, removing a strand of ginger hair from his eyes.
“After you left, I began taking lessons to understand more of your business, in case… you know, I became a widow.”
He nodded, prompting you to continue.
“However, I learned you left someone to take care of the brewery in your pla—
“Rae had total—
“Rae understand about Wars, not about business,” you cut him off, receiving a glare from him. He removed your hand from his face. “At any rate, she was busy taking care of Lux. Like I said, his mother died a few hours after his birth and I didn’t know what to do with a child. Besides, I had to return to my father. We didn’t want him to suspect Lux was well and alive.”
Hux remained in silence for a moment. Calmer now, he brought your hand to his lips, bestowing upon it the briefest of kisses.
His small gesture had your heart accelerating.
“How did Poe come to be Lux’s father?”
You tried to pull your hand away from him, but he held onto you firmly. A gasp left you when he brought his lips to the inside of your wrist, kissing it softly.
“I will tell if you tell why you asked for that old rag’s money.”
His eyes darkened at your words. His caresses stopped instantly.
He let go of your wrist, letting it fall limply to your sides.
A sigh left you. You were back to square one.
Way to go, (Y/N)!
“I just don’t understand. It simply makes no sense,” you started, holding his hands between yours. You shook your head, as if to indicate your confusion, “You have more money than she has, that’s why my father married me off to you instead of taking her as his wife.”
He arched his brows.
It was as if he did not expect such reasoning from you. Whenever you talked about your marriage, you always spoke of it as a union of love — even when he clearly said that love had no space in a marriage. It was probably a surprise to see you talking about it like a reasonable adult.
Being grown-up sucks, you thought to yourself. If only Lux knew, he wouldn’t trade his childhood for nothing in this world.
Recalling his words, you reached out for the toffee you kept inside your corset. Hux’s eyes darkened at your action. You placed in his hand, closing his fingers around it.
“Lux said you were in a bad mood.”
He snorted, but tightened his hold over it all the same.
“Anyways,” you began again, dragging his attention back to the topic at hand, “she won’t leave you alone if you allow her to lend you any money. Besides, you know she believes you’re still pining after her.” You bit the inside of your cheeks, unsure where to go after that. You had not planned that far.
He tilted your chin upwards, his thumb eased your bottom lip.
“I am not pining after her.” His words, coupled with how his warm breath caressed your face, sent a shiver down your spine. He pulled your closer, and you stood on your toes so you could brush your lips against his. He broke apart before you could manage that. A defeated sigh left you.
“I’m sure we can find another way,” you whispered, holding tightly onto his hand. If he would not let you kiss him…
“We?” he asked; brows arched in surprise. He brushed his nose against yours, his lips skimming against your jaw with purpose, but he never placed them over yours. It was getting increasingly difficult to have a straight conversation with him at this point. He took your earlobe between his teeth, applying some pressure. A moan of both pleasure and frustration left you. “What do you mean by we?”
You swallowed.
“We’re married, Armitage. It’s time we start acting as such.” You pursed your lips into a thin line. It was time you started acting like the adult you were. If Rae and even he himself always accused you of being childish, it was probably because you behave like that most of times. “We won’t accomplish nothing if we keep fighting every second.”
He broke apart from you.
You were a bit dizzy after his ministrations.
“You are right,” he conceded. “But I have to take her offer.”
“Why?” Your eyes were widened. “Goddammit, Amirtage, haven’t you heard a word of what I just said?”
Holding onto your chin, he brushed his lips against yours. Finally giving you the kiss you yearned so much for since this conversation took a flirtatious turn. He did not linger more than a few seconds, but it was sufficient to make you hum in contentment.
“I did, my dear wife,” he said, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You sighed. He ran the back of this forefinger over the side of your neck, making you shiver. You bit your bottom lip when he enclosed his hand around your throat — just like he did last night, while making love to you. The mere remembrance made you weak on the knees, “but my damned father made sure I will only have access to the total sum of my inheritance only when I have an heir of my own.”
A/N - And that will be all for today! I’ll see you next Thursday!
In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 4 - To play a General
A/N - Hi, darlings! xD As promised, here I am to update chapter 4 of ITGB. This one has one of my fav cliffs ever. Sorry I do love cliffhangers xD I also quite like how Hux and Reader try to understand each other a little better here, but they’re people of their time and if couples aren’t known for talking to each other nowadays, what can we expect from people from 1815, right? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].
Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.
“MY LADY,” THE GOVERNESS BEGAN, HER TONE DID NOTHING TO HIDE HER NERVOUNESS. SHE WAS SHAKING. “HIS LORDSHIP ASKED IF YOU WOULD GIVE HIM THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY IN THE BREAKFAST TABLE.”
In other words, Hux demanded your presence. Right. Now.
You smiled in spite of yourself. You would have laughed but thought that maybe it the governess would think you were laughing at her — which was also the case, but not only nor the main cause. Bringing your cup of tea to your lips, you savored it as if you had never tasted anything so good.
“You may tell him that I appreciate his invitation, but I shall decline.”
There was a moment of silence, which you used to drink more of your tea before you lost control of yourself and laughed out loud. Then a sharp intake of breath and finally a confused, “My Lady?”
“That will be all.”
She bowed, her face contorted into a grimace of both fear and… disapproval? You did not know, and you did not care. Before she could leave, however, you said, “I see that your uniform is in… adequate condition today.”
You could have asked if Rae said something, but you thought that she would have more than enough to handle as soon as she told Hux you would not be joining him.
She blushed, visibly embarrassed with your words.
“Thank you, Your Ladyship.”
As soon as the door was closed, you put your cup on the tray and brought both of your hands to your face. Your head hit the pillow and you finally laughed. If not for having the tray placed over your legs, you would have kicked the mattress as well.
What a day!
What. A. Day.
By now, your beloved husband probably had finished reading The Times and mainly the gossip column — only that could explain why he asked for your company when he knew you were dismissed of having breakfast at the table.
As a Marquess and a married Lady, you were actually encouraged to have breakfast alone, secluded in your own chambers. It denoted your nobility and importance in a household. And while you thought that was simply old fashioned bullshit, it never came so in hand.
You laughed again as you thought about Hux’s face right now.
Did he yell at the governess?
Did he hit the table with his fists?
Did his face get as red as his hair?
Ah, you would simply love to be in his company right now.
No.
Actually, you would give everything you had to be a small fly, so you could spy on him without denouncing yourself.
That would be… just awesome.
You laughed some more and concentrated on your breakfast, your eyes on the world beyond those windows. Albeit closed, the curtains were opened and you could see the sun shining outdoors.
What a lovely day.
You closed your eyes and inhaled your tea. It was warm — you bet as warm as the beautiful sunrays coming through the window, it was a pity you would not go on a walking with Lux that morning.
He loved playing outdoors, but after what you did — and mainly after Poe’s funeral — you thought that was not a smart decision.
Again, how did Hux react?
The waiting was killing you.
You counted to ten, expecting him to come banging on your door. He did not. But that was to be expected. He demanded you — with polite words, of course, but that was still an order — to come to him and explain yourself — you defied him — and he would not go to you. Unless he wanted to be seen as weak he would stay exactly where he was.
Clever.
That was a very childish power play and neither of you wanted to give up. Neither of you would give up. Neither would be seen as weak.
You expected him to avoid your chambers till night, when he would have to prepare for the Ball hosted by His Grace, the Duke of Wellington, in honor of the great and well-regarded Commander Poe Dameron.
Honestly, if not for having Lady Organa — and Rae, if you could convince her to join you; she simply hated such events — you would have declined his invitation. The man was getting ahead of himself. A Ball in honor of his Commander a day after his burial? As much as Poe was a lively person, you viewed the Duke’s action as reckless and not so thought-out.
A small smile crept to your lips…
Well, even more reason to go and put a convenient smile to your face. If the Royal Family would not meet their General — as responsible for the unbelievable victory over the French as their Major General — you would make sure they heard of him.
You wondered if after his thunderous reputation after the Battle of Waterloo he talked about politics with his wife — he probably did not. There was word out there that his marriage to Catherine Wellesley was highly unsatisfactory, with the Duke pursuing other partners in broad daylight — and who were his political advisers. They were probably all old men and lacked the necessary qualities to play the politic game in the Ton.
A sigh left your lips as you thought that Hux was not that very different. Although he did not consult with old rags — he had Rae Sloane, but Rae knew about Wars, not about the Ton — he did not talk to you. It was beyond frustrating!
Well… You just had to prove him wrong.
To prove them wrong.
It was past lunch — this time you had to go downstairs, but Hux was locked in his study in what seemed to be a very important meeting with Rae Sloane and a manager recently arrived from Dublin — when you finally crossed paths with him.
You would have turned away, before he noticed you — and declared he had won your little, petty competition — but stopped at hearing his voice.
He was in the drawing room with Lux. To your complete despair, he was reading a story to the boy. Reading the same fable you did when you caught him faking illness.
If you did not think him utterly ridiculous, you would have felt some anger creeping through your veins.
And judging by Lux’s confused face, that was certainly not the fable he had been reading before you entered the drawing room. That made your need to smile even more noticeable.
Ridiculous.
And he dared calling you childish.
The smile quickly died in your mouth. If he still believed you were lying — not that you vehemently denied and dismissed his romantics about being Lux’s fathers last night, actually you merely waved him off and said that he would never know the answer for sure —, he would be very mad after tonight.
Well, he would be very mad at you for meddling in his business — he already was — but that had to be done. The announcement over Lux’s adoption on The Times was necessary. Actually, vital to his political career.
By now, the Royal Family must have heard of him. If not about his successful campaign in the Napoleonic Wars, at least about his courageous and heartfelt act after a brother in arms suddenly and tragically passed away.
You would make sure of that.
However, your actions may have seen as another of your childish attempts at driving him away from whom he thought to be his son and heir. Now you regretted your answer. If you told him — for real — the whole story he would understand, wouldn’t he?
When Lux saw you, his smile brightened, and he disentangled himself from your husband and ran to you.
A small smile touched your lips as you bowed slightly and patted his ginger hair lovingly. He giggled when you tapped his little nose.
“Mama, would you like to hear a story?”
You even opened your mouth to reply, but Hux closed the book within his right hand immediately, indicating he would by no means read you a story — perhaps another fable on why lying was a bad thing. Perhaps you should read some on why he should trust his family.
Trust you.
If you said Lux was not his son it was because he was not.
Period.
What was so difficult about that?
You barely realized you forgot to give Lux an answer and was instead glaring at Hux. The boy pulled the skirts of your black dress and asked, his brows furrowed, “Mama?”
“Oh, yes, darling,” you replied with a warm smile. “I would love to, it is, if Lord Hux would be so kind to read us another fable.”
“He was reading one about how the horse…” He touched his lips with his index finger, a pensive expression taking his childish features.
“The Horse that lost its Liberty,” Hux completed for him, opening the book in the same page of before.
This time, you were the one who furrowed your brows.
“Why?”
“I love horses!” Lux said in his place, his tone as eager and enthusiastic as ever.
All traces of that crying boy from last night were gone. He did not look as a child who had just lost his father. In fact, it seemed he did not even remember Poe and his importance in his life — which was not that great, you reminded yourself.
And Lux is just four.
Just yesterday you were telling yourself that a child his age had problems grasping the concepts of life and death, you could simply not expect him to keep on crying all day long. That was too much to ask of a child.
Besides, you loved when he smiled.
Just not when Hux was the reason.
You glared at your husband again. He shrugged, and the shadow of a smile tugged the corner of his lips. He seemed very pleased with himself for again making Lux more interested in him than yourself.
How you hated him.
“Believe it or not, Lady Hux, one can read fables without disciplinary thoughts in mind as well.”
You bit your bottom lip, not very keen on giving the answer he deserved in front of Lux.
“Will you read for us, my Lord?” you said instead.
He eyed you with those bluish eyes of his filled with some feeling you could not quite put your finger on, but deduced he was having some fun at your expense.
Lux took you by the hand and approached the couch, where they were both sitting before you arrived and took his seat between you and Hux. The boy leaned against you, as he usually did when you read him a story, and placed your hand on his hair, so you could run your fingers through his ginger locks. You kissed the top of his head and inhaled his sweet scent.
His innocent and seemingly subconscious action brought Hux’s eyes to him, eyeing him with renewed interest.
Bothered with his stare, you cleared your throat and glared at him. He glared back, and his voice was finally heard in the so far silent drawing room.
“Will you tell him the truth?” Rae Sloane asked as if that was nothing as she the tightened your corset to its maximum.
You gasped and placed one hand over the mirror positioned in the middle of your dressing room to balance yourself. After spending the entire day reading agreements and taking Hux’s young manager, Dopheld Mitaka, to a walk in Hyde Park, she dismissed your Lady’s Maid, stating she would help you herself tonight.
Not very keen on picking an unnecessary fight — even if Rae was just horrible with your hair —, and actually eager to be in her company, you accepted her help — but you would do your hair yourself or just call your Lady’s Maid back. Rae was not touching a strand of your hair. Although proficient with the most complicated hairdos, she always left you with a bugging headache whenever she got near your head.
Right now, she was leaving you breathless.
“Gods, Rae, I can’t breathe!”
“You have gained weight,” she changed topic as if her last question meant nothing. And in fact, given the current situation, you would say it didn’t.
“I can’t be pregnant,” you replied, fanning yourself with both hands. “We haven’t even…” You bit your bottom lip. Why were you telling her that? “You know… Properly… Well, yes and no.”
She cast a hard glance at you through the mirror. You felt all color leaving your face.
“I am not interested in your intimate life with the General, (Y/N).”
You breathed through your nose and laughed shortly.
“General…” You shook your head, it made her pull even tighter the corset strings. “It’s funny when you call him like that. It’s feels like you’re not his—
“I am not,” she interrupted you, tying the knot firmly in place. She moved away, searching for the skirt of your clothing and you finally breathed slowly. “There is a reason why I never had children, (Y/N). I am not his mother, as you are not Lux’s mother.”
Well, you told yourself that every single night before sleeping and every single day just after you woke up, but hearing those words leaving someone’s lips — someone you considered dearly — in such a crude manner always hurt you.
They felt like a slap to your face.
“You love him as such…” you whispered and bit your bottom lip. Any chance you had of saving a little of your dignity was long gone now.
She gestured for you to stay still as she adjusted the buttons of your dress and smoothed its skirt. It was a gorgeous evening gown; one you prided yourself on owning. With its bluish, black and white colors, it was surely a different piece of what everyone paraded within in the Ton.
Perhaps black was the more appropriate color, but you bet the Duke’s wife would be wearing such color and you refused to be compared to someone’s else — even if someone of higher position in the Ton.
“My feelings have nothing to do with this mess you’ve created.”
Again, a slap would have hurt less.
“I know nothing of the Ton, (Y/N), as you well know. But let me tell you something, I do know your husband and he will not forgive you if you play him. Tell him the truth. Tonight.”
You bit your bottom lip.
What did she expect you to say? Your statement to the newspaper should be enough. If Lord and Lady Hux were adopting Poe Dameron’s son, it was because the child was not his!
“Could you do it yourself?” you asked, only to be met with a hard glare through the mirror. “You know he listens to you far more than the listens to me.”
She took her time to give you a reply and you feared for your dignity again — it is, if it still existed? When she did not, she left you agape.
“I am calling your Lady’s Maid to help you with your hair.”
If you had to use a word to describe this night, it would be hypocritical. The very same feeling of yesterday at the funeral returned.
No one was there to celebrate Poe’s life or his importance as a Commander in the War — most people there did not even know about their soldiers. On the contrary, they were eager to strengthen their alliances with the Duke and maybe get a closer look at the General and you.
At least you made a far more striking pair than the Duke and his wife, that’s for sure. As expected, everyone was dressing black and your colors contrasted to those present in the Ballroom.
The Duchess was certainly one to set fashion tendencies and every guest expected her to dress black — and she did not disappoint them and neither you. Once again, you were right. People in Ton were so predictable it hurt.
And it was boring.
You cast a glance at Hux over the shoulder of your current partner. A traditional Ball — even one taking place after a burial — required good wine and brandy, music and dances. After having dancing with your husband twice, you had two more partners.
One of them was the hateful Agent Terex — you did your best to seal your lips and prevent yourself from giving him a piece of your mind. The other was Captain Solo — he was known to be a Pirate in the past and whisked you away from a very displeased Lord Terex. Lady Organa’s husband was a sarcastic man who hated Balls and anything even remotely related to the Ton — which was actually refreshing. It was funny how a popular Duchess fell in love with him — everyone knew their marriage to be one of love, no sane woman would marry Han Solo, a poor sailor — after he decided to leave his days as a pirate behind him — the best in the whole world, or so he said.
Their son, Ben Solo did not come with them, which seemed to please Hux greatly. You would have to know what happened between them back in the War, it seemed to affect their relationship significantly.
Lady Organa and the Duchess Catherine both congratulated you on your and Hux’s decision to adopt Poe’s son. According to the Duchess, the poor, little thing needed a family more than ever now. She even said she would adopt him herself — in spite of the fact she had two children already — if no one stepped up to take care of him.
You felt your blood leaving from your face as you forced yourself to smile and hold your tongue. Part of you was taken by an almost uncontrollable fury as she cogitated the possibility of taking Lux to herself. You never needed Rae Sloane so much in your entire life! At least Lady Organa was there and changed topics, complimenting you for your dress.
She wore white and orange — Poe’s favorite colors.
Now you were dancing with the Duke of Wellington himself. Hux’s eyes were on you as the musicians stopped playing the melody of the traditional Strasbourgeoise Cotillion and the tune of a waltz began.
A few older ladies gasped — Lady Organa was certainly not one of them — for waltz was a popular dance in France, people in the British Empire still considered it too bold — scandalous even. It was certainly a dance that demanded too much of body closeness.
After the first steps, everyone was forced to stop. Agent Terex was close to the musicians, hitting his goblet of champagne with a spoon he probably got from the dinner offered earlier.
He cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice sounding much louder in the now silent Ballroom. “I propose a toast…”
Before he could continue, every footman filled waiting cups with the finest champagne or gave goblets to those who did not have any.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you waited for his words. That was definitely not what nor whom you had in mind when you thought about the announcement tonight.
It was impossible not to notice the Duke was tense as well.
You searched for Hux’s eyes, but he was not looking at you this time.
“For Commander Dameron.” He finished, raising his goblet.
Everyone in the Ballroom mimicked him. The Duke relaxed visibly.
“And…” Agent Terex continued, his voice denouncing how much he had drank — as if his terrible breath was not enough. “I would like to congratulate Lord Hux and Lady Hux…”
Definitely not what you were expecting — nor how you were expecting…
“…for their empathetic and wise decision to adopt Commander Dameron’s son.”
His last words were followed by a minute of silence — in which your husband finally looked at you. Your heart galloped in your chest in rhythmless beats — and then everyone repeated For Lord and Lady Hux.
A few guests, having their crystal goblets placed over trays the footmen were carrying around, even applauded the announcement.
With the help of Captain Solo, Agent Terex left the small area and the musicians resumed playing. The melody filled the Ballroom and the couples were once again dancing around you and the Duke.
He bowed dutifully in front of you and brought your gloved hand to a courteous kiss.
“It warms my heart to know such a young boy will be well cared for, my Lady.”
This time, you could not discern in his tone if he was being sincere or if that was just another mask. You narrowed your eyes, but there was no time to come to a conclusion, for Hux approached you, followed by the Duchess of Wellington.
The Duke slowly let go of your hand and instead offered his arm to his wife. A sigh of relief left you as soon as you saw them ready to leave you and your husband alone.
“We just hope—” the Duke began, his eyes fixed on Hux, “that he won’t be forgotten as soon as you finally bear Lord Hux his heir.”
With him positioned behind you, it was impossible to see his reaction — if he expressed any. Part of you expected such direct attack from the Duchess, but she seemed far politer than her husband. Another part of you tried to come up quickly with a response that would show he picked a fight with the wrong people, but Hux beat you to that. Taking your gloved hand between his and bringing it to his lips, he said,
“Your worries are groundless, Your Grace. Lady (Y/N)’s love for Lux is immensurable.” He placed a small kiss on your cheeks. “Now, if you are worried about heritage, then perhaps you should ask your own wife about her opinion.”
A small gasp left both you and the Duchess. The Duke’s face contorted in anger, but he remained silent. He would not risk his image over something that would have the entire Ton talking for weeks to come and the gossip columns in The Times making a fuss about next morning.
It did not mean you did not feel sorry for the poor woman. It was a truth universally acknowledged, that His Grace did not seek her anymore. Their marriage was one of convenience nowadays and even if she bore him two sons, everyone questioned their first offspring.
They departed in silence. Both you and Hux bowed dutifully. You had no idea how differently you could have acted. You shifted your attention to him, about to ask if he was ready to leave when he pulled you to him.
“That was mean,” you said as soon as he placed his hand on your waist and directed your left to his shoulder. “Even for you.”
He did not give you an answer. Not that you expected one. You should scold him for saying such outrageous words to a Duke, nonetheless. And yet, you saw yourself thank him in your mind. Although you considered his reply disrespectful and even offensive, you could not blame him for defending you. After all, the Duke was the first to treat you as a mere offspring repository.
He saw that coming.
People would talk — he would talk — if Lord Hux did not defend the honor of his own wife.
Instead, you saw yourself saying, “I thought you were mad at me.”
There was another moment of silence as he guided you in light and fluid steps. He was a great dancer, you always thought that. Your heart always accelerated whenever he took you to the center of the Ballroom. As an adolescent, you would always watch him dancing with other ladies and get jealous of them for having his attention all to themselves.
In the shadows, you watched him and imagined yourself in their place, in his arms, dancing with him — you even dreamed of kissing him. It was with indecorous happiness — for no woman should take so much pleasure in such simplistic occasion — that you had your first dance with him when you debuted in the Season, when you were eighteen years old.
Seven years…
You were startled to realize so many years had gone by. After that dance, your life changed forever. With eighteen you had your first kiss with him. With nineteen you got engaged to him. With twenty, the two of you got married.
Touching his cheeks — a highly improper move that had guests all around you gasping —, you furrowed your brows. There was no time to say anything, for he began,
“You fooled me.” His voice was cold; his eyes expressionless. “I must say I am impressed by your strategy.”
Brows still furrowed, you removed your hand from his face and moved it to his shoulder. He used that opportunity to bring you closer to him — the closeness between your bodies far more shocking for those people unused to such scandalous dances —, his mouth on your ear, so no one would hear his next words,
“You say you love Lux, but all you did recently was using him to improve your social position in the Ton.”
As if burned, you stopped dancing altogether and glared at him. If not for the guests all around you, you probably would have hit him right in the face.
Perhaps punched him.
You had never punched anyone, but the need was never as great as it was right now. Biting your bottom lip, you let your fingers slip from his hand.
His eyes were focused on yours as he ran his right hand over your face. The need to step back and get away from him was almost overwhelming but you held yourself in place.
“You say I have changed… But you are someone else entirely, (Y/N).” He ran his fingers over your bottom lip, it trembled slightly as the need to bite him — spite on him, cry because of him — took over you. “I expected so much more from you.”
When you finally found your voice, it was broken and hoarse. Your eyes were full of tears you did your best to cover.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lord Hux.”
After you arrived from the Ball, you entered Lux’s bedroom and dismissed his tutoress. You expected him to be sleeping soundly, but he was wide awake. You sniffed and blinked twice to dissipate the need to cry.
He was holding between his chubby fingers the very drawing that fell from your book when that very fateful day when Hux returned to your life.
And how you hated it.
Hated him.
Every ounce of love you felt for him was slowly dying whenever he addressed you with his cruel, unkind words.
You are a bad liar, a voice in your head said. Part of you knew that it only hurt — his words, his behavior, his coldness — because deep down — in the very bottom of your heart — you still loved him. Part of you tried to reassure you that you loved the man from the past. Not the man who came back from a successful campaign in Waterloo.
You shook your head and concentrated on Lux. He did not realize you were in his chambers. He was so engrossed with the drawing, he could not have seen a real horse trotting in front of him.
It was Hux’s drawing. One he had made in one afternoon the two of you escaped to a picnic. Your lady in waiting was left behind — only to be harshly punished by your father later; that poor creature — and you found yourself alone in his company. As your father could not suspect any illicit nor lusty activity between you, Hux took his time to draw your horse.
Obviously, it did not prevent you from rolling in the grass — with you landing over him and wresting with him for such prized position — and kissing till your lips were aching and swollen.
Those were indeed happy days…
… and you could only regret that they were gone, and you were stuck with a control freak and pale shadow of the albeit melancholic, so very romantic man you had fallen in love with.
You recalled that afternoon as if it happened just yesterday. When the two of you were parting, he kissed your hand in a gentlemanly gesture in front of your father and handed him the proof of how well behaved while he was alone with you. In your fingers, though, there was a small paper with your face sketched and a small message written in a careless manner.
Soon, beloved.
Of that small sketch of your face there was nothing left. Your father made sure to rip it apart when he caught the two of you kissing in Hux’s study room — he had reasons to believe the worst; you were sitting over his desk and he was between your legs. His hair was disheveled and your hands were between his clothes, touching his chest. That was how far you went, but your father was sure you had disgraced yourself that day and it took you a while, and daily doses of humiliation extended to Hux as well, to prove him wrong. He tried to do the same to the other drawing, but you placed it in your clothes before he could get his hands on it.
Lux was holding this drawing close to his chest and looking at it with the innocent passion only a child could muster.
You approached him and sat on his bed.
“You really like him, don’t you?” you asked, running your fingers through his cheeks. It seemed to tickle him, for he giggled and slapped your hand gently away.
Offering your hand to him you helped him sit on the bed, you watched as he handed you the drawing as well, so you could place it on his bedside table.
He nodded his response.
The boy has a sweet tooth, he had said last night when the two of you talked in the dead of the night in each other’s arms. He likes toffee.
“Because he gives you sweets,” you tried, your voice a bit unsure.
His smile was so bright it could rival the very sun. Although you loved to know Lux could like someone like Hux instead of merely hating him, it worried you greatly that he could be hurt in the near future. For you knew for sure Hux did not know how to love or how to reciprocate anyone’s feelings.
He merely ‘liked’ Lux for now because he firmly believed to be his father. It was very convenient for him to father a son — the Royal Family would look kindly upon any man having a family. Once he believed you and accepted the truth, you doubted he would be so willing to give the boy even a sideway glance.
But his words…
…they mean nothing…
…they must…
You were conflicted. Part of you wanted to find excuses for his behavior — even if you knew there was none — and another part wanted to label him as Satan himself.
The mere thought made your heart break. Albeit strict, Armitage Hux was a man who exerted some sort of fascination over people. He was alluring. And people who came to know him, loved him easily. Rae Sloane, for one, did love him. Needless to mention your own feelings for the man… and now Lux loved him as well…
Oh, Gods! You would kill Hux if he made your Little Lord suffer!
“Yes, and because he will give me his horse.” His high-pitched voice dragged you back to the present time.
You looked at him with widened eyes, surprise all written over your face.
“He will?”
Lux nodded. His smile easy on his face. He brought both hands to his eyes and rubbed them a few times.
“It’s time to sleep, Little Lord.” You helped him under the covers and ran your hands through his hair. “Actually, you should have slept hours ago.”
He shook his head.
Too tired, but too excited to give in to sleep.
So stubborn…
“He will teach me to ride too, Mama!”
His excitement seemed to die a bit as he yawned.
“When I get big and old.”
He focused his chestnut eyes on you and asked, his voice no more than a worried whisper, “will that take long?”
You laughed a bit and kissed his forehead.
“It will come soon enough, Little Lord.”
Sooner than I expect.
Or want.
You were returning to your chambers when you stopped in front of Rae’s bedroom and recalled her words.
Tell him the truth.
You bit your bottom lip and shook your head.
No.
You were not going to talk to him.
Not even if your life depended on it.
Tonight.
She would be very disappointed in you next morning.
But what could you do?
Hux made it very clear he did not believe a word you said about loving him, about Lux’s parentage. He did not believe you. Period.
It made your heart ache and you felt highly stupid for still having feelings for him. He was the last person in the universe who deserved your love.
Heavens, he did not believe you when you said you loved Lux — your most precious thing. The light of your life.
You did your best not to recall his words, they were to cruel and made your heart sore and small.
Shaking your head, you opened the doors of your chambers, only to find him sitting in the anteroom, a cigar between his fingers and a glass with brandy resting on the coffee table.
It was very rare to see him smoking. He was not a man of vices. In fact, this current Hux in front of you was a very meticulous man, a man who controlled and was not controlled by anyone or anything.
A man who hurt and never got hurt.
His words returned to you with full force.
You say you love Lux, but all you did recently was using him…
You cut his voice in your mind, shaking your head and walking to the bedroom. He did not spare you even a single glance.
The words continued, this time almost a chant.
You say you love Lux…
Biting your bottom lip, you removed your dressing gown and held it in your arms.
You say you love Lux…
“Enough!” It took you a while — and a confused stare from him — for you to realize you had said the words aloud. You even brought both hands to your mouth in a mortified gesture, but you shook your head.
Tell him the truth.
You were trembling.
With rage.
With disgust.
With disappointment.
With love for Lux.
…for him…
But you were also trembling with hate.
For him.
For yourself.
For his father.
For your father.
You walked to him. Stopped right in front of him. And took his glass of brandy, taking the liquid all at once.
If you were to say the truth — the ugly truth — you had to have at least some alcohol running through your veins.
“Do you want to hear the truth?”
He did not give you a reply.
His bluish eyes were focused on you. Intense. Burning with a cold flame that hurt you more than his words. In a dismissive gesture, he brought the cigar to his lips.
It was clear he did not want to hear whatever you had to say.
But now he would.
You would make sure he did.
“My father hated you.”
If these words bothered him you would never know, for he did not how any reaction to them. It was well known that your father disapproved greatly of him and his ancestry.
A bastard!
You gave yourself to a useless bastard!
He had called Armitage a bastard in countless occasions. His own father called him that every once in a while. Not every day. No. It would be the same of reminding himself he could only produce an heir — any heir — outside wedlock. It would remind him of his own failure.
You braced yourself for the next words.
“He would never allow any child of yours to live.”
That made Hux’s shoulders tense. He sat straighter in the couch and lowered the cigar to the cinder-box.
“Did he…” He let the question in the air. He could not even look at you. His eyes were cast on the floor. Your negative reply made him cast a glance at you with some relief. “I would kill him if he—
“No. But he laughed at me when my menses came.”
It still hurt to recall his happiness while you cried yourself to sleep in Rae’s arms. Your heart was flooded with fondness for this woman who took you under her care as if you were her own child.
There is a reason why I never had children.
She was a far better mother than most mothers you had met in your life — your own included.
“He was happy that it did not take root. It was not even six months after that and upon your disappearance that he decided to marry me off to another man.”
His lips were pursed into a thin line…
…And you thought that you saw some anguish in his eyes…?
You shook your head. You were reading too much into his reactions. It was only natural that he would be mad at your father — men all over the Empire considered women to be their properties. Hux was no different.
“But then, he suddenly stopped.”
He furrowed his brows.
No words left his lips.
His silence was never so welcomed before.
“It took me and Rae a while to figure it out… But he was having an affair with a village girl in Southampton.” You sat beside him and took the cigar. You had never smoked before — the only time you tried, you did it wrong and ended up with a coughing fit. He took it away from you and brought it to his lips.
“Go on.”
You bit your bottom lip, regretting the fact that you did not have anything alcoholic to drink in your chambers.
“This girl…” You looked down. “This girl had your hair… but chestnut eyes.”
He pursed his lips into a thin line.
“You know… Don’t you?” you asked, your voice broken.
He nodded.
For long, uncountable minutes there was only the sound of the cigar becoming ashes in the cinder-box. A sepulchral silence enveloped you.
Subconsciously, your hands sought his and your fingers entwined.
“I suspected it,” he finally admitted it, looking at your palms pressed together. He ran his thumb over your pulse absentmindedly.
“She was younger than you and me,” you continued in a whisper. “But she was the legitimate daughter your father never knew he had. My father—
You did not realize you were crying till you felt his fingers on your face, wiping them away.
“Is a monster.”
He brought you to the comfort of his arms. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and cried your heart out. It had been long since you let yourself think about this story.
“Was a monster.”
He ran his fingers through your hair, trying to comfort you. It only made you cry more.
“She was no more than a child. He…”
“Forced her,” he finished for you; his voice no more than an emotionless whisper.
This made you cry harder.
He had never met his sister. He never would.
Your father was truly a monster. The worst kind of monster. Because he hated Armitage and the prospect of him having his title — even if he desperately needed Armitage’s money — revolted, sickened him, he forced himself upon your husband’s only living parent. Thus, their offspring — unlike yours — would be fit to have his damned title.
In his eyes, you were no better than a whore — the only daughter he had had given herself to a bastard.
“Lux is my nephew,” he said, holding you by the nape and forcing you — albeit not unkindly — to face him.
You nodded.
“And my brother.”
A/N - Well, that’s it for today, kids! Unlike BB, I still have left two more chapters of this story to update here. I’m on a tight schedule right now, so that’s why you aren’t getting ant updates from me. Sorry, but I really have to finish my thesis xD. Anyways, I hope you’ve liked it xD
In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 3 - To hate a General
A/N - Hello there! As promised, here goes chapter 3 of In the General’s Bed. I don’t have much to say, since I’m very, very sleepy right now, but I do hope you like this chapter. It’s one of my favorites... and I really, really like these cliffhangers but I know you hate them hahahaha Just for the record, the historical facts mentioned in this story are mostly real... Of course a few things here and here are modified to fit the story... but well, I try to be as accurate as possible. If you find anything wrong, let me know... I’m not British, so...
Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].
Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.
THE WAY TO LONDON WAS PAVED WITH SEPHUCRAL SILENCE.
Although the trip had been scheduled to take place during the weekend, the news of Lord Poe Dameron’s death hastened it by three days.
The coachman, under Hux’s orders, set a punishing pace over the horses. There were two carriages, one for you and Hux, and the second for Lux and his tutoress — to your displeasure, Rae Sloane chose to stay behind to organize your belongings. She was set to arrive two days after you did.
And even if you did not agree with her choice — for Lux needed her more than ever —, she had Hux’s approval.
You had not explained why you left Southampton all of a sudden to Lux. In fact, you had no idea how you would explain his father — his only living family — had died. The circumstances of his death were still a mystery to you. Hux merely received a missive from Lady Organa and informed you to prepare a few of your and Lux’s belongings for you were going to London.
Lux did not seem to care about leaving and as long as he had you or Rae, you doubted he would complain about something. And you thought he would not care when he learned about Poe. He was just four and unable to grasp the concepts of life and death. You were sure he did not acknowledge Poe as his father either; he never called him as such. To him you and Rae were his only family.
A yawn left you.
You were tired. Utterly spent, actually.
Even if Lux did not complain about leaving, he did not accept to stay away from you and you did not have the heart to force him to stay with his preceptress in another carriage.
Hux took your decision with some displeasure, but he did not voice his thoughts. He was not naïve enough — nor blind; he saw what you planned under your mask of courtesy — to believe you accepted Lux in your personal carriage only because you did not want to displease the boy, but because you wanted to keep him at bay.
If something was to take place between the two of you, it would be on your own terms, your initiative. And you thought that you proved you could do it fairly well last time.
Honestly, you did not know you had it in you — your experience was limited when it came to bedroom affairs —, but after he said you were not fit to play such a game with him, you felt like you should prove him wrong.
The mere remembrance of how you took him in your mouth — such a depravity! — had you blushing now. You had never done that before and never heard of a decorous lady — wife! — doing that to their husbands. In London’s most popular Ballrooms, there was talk of that being an act of courtesans and lowly whores.
You were neither.
However, seeing that your husband had no problem kissing you there in your first — and only — night together; how eager he seemed to repeat the act at that very moment — and how much pleasure it brought you — you thought that it might be good to him as well.
You were not wrong.
Hux did seem to enjoy it. A lot.
And honestly, the more the proper and oh, so very decent ladies of Ton said it was inappropriate — a woman who did enjoy such pleasures with her husband or who did use such means to bring pleasure to her husband was no better than a common whore — the more you wanted to try it. There were many opportunities for you to try it with other men, but while you did not know for sure Hux was six feet under, you did not have it in you to cheat on him — even if he probably did the same to you.
You decided to test your theory that night. He was putty in your hands — and mouth. And while your body demanded for you to go further with him — you knew he could give you so much more of those pleasures if you only let him —, you decided to put a stop to that night of debauchery.
If Hux wanted you, he would have to work for you.
And he would have you, eventually. But only when you decided he deserved you. For now, he would have to content himself with the smaller bits of attention you decided to bestow upon him.
If you were too weak to stop him, you knew you could count on Lux to help you.
A small smile, rapidly covered by a yawn, outlined your lips. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against Hux’s shoulder. Lux was between the two of you, gripping the fabric of both of your clothes in his chubby hands.
The two of them were fast asleep. It was funny how, in spite of their obvious distaste and disapproval of each other, they clung to each other subconsciously.
Not for the first time, you wondered how he would behave with a child of his own — your child. You bit your bottom lip; your fingers played with his bluish cravat. Part of you wondered how he would react if you said Lux was his — would he be happy? Overjoyed? Surprised? Another part knew he would not take lightly to such lie.
You snuggled against him and let sleep take over you as well.
All servants were ready to welcome you when the carriage stopped at Piccadilly Street. Even before you could disembark, the building had you in awe.
There was talk around the city — there was always talk in Southampton —, concerning the General’s newest acquisition, but you did not expect it to be so… monumental.
Arkanis Hall was really a sight to behold. With its Greeks columns, it looked majestic and, at the same time, a bit intimidating. Undoubtedly, a mansion fit to accommodate a Duke. You knew how wealthy the Hux family was, but it still stunned you how much profit they made from their brewery in Ireland. Although your father did its best to hide from you the essence of your husband’s business, you knew very well their nature.
While he was away and there was talk about you being a widow, you conducted a thorough investigation concerning the nature of his business — in case you needed to oversee it.
His hand outstretched for you to take waved off whatever thoughts plaguing your mind. You placed your gloved fingers upon his and accepted his help to disembark. Lux was still sleeping and it was with some surprise — screw that! You were completely bewildered — that you saw him taking the boy in his arms with all the care in the world.
You even thought about offering to hold Lux yourself, but you realized that maybe that was not the best decision — not when there were so many servants watching your very soul.
In silence, you followed him inside, only to have both the butler and governess trailing right behind you, waiting for further instructions. You removed your gloves and watched, with narrowed eyes, as Hux climbed the stairs towards the bedrooms. Part of you wanted to follow him, but you knew what he was doing and that it in fact needed to be done, if you wanted to be respected by the servants.
Those people worked for other masters before and all they wanted was one single reason to badmouth you and Hux — at Lux’s expenses nonetheless. If it depended on you, they would have no reasons whatsoever to say anything.
But just in case Lux woke up… You gesticulated for the preceptress to follow Hux upstairs.
“Is there anything I need to know concerning the servants?” you asked as soon as you were left alone in the company of both the butler and the governess.
“They are here to serve, Your Ladyship,” the butler replied, his eyes cast down. “And they are happy to serve in anything you or the Lord see fit.”
You nodded, not at all pleased with their answers. The governess stayed in silence. You wondered if Hux had other plans in store for Rae. If she was not here to act as a governess as she did back in Southampton, then he must have thought of another occupation for her. In any case, you already saw her criticizing the governess — starting with the misalignment of the buttons in her uniform. After all, Rae Sloane always thought that having an impeccable appearance was prerequisite for an equally flawless work.
You squinted… Was that a missing button? As if it just popped out after someone tried to take it off or put it back on in a rush…?
A small smile graced your lips as you thought about how much the two of them would get along.
“Should I fetch the maid who will be assisting Your Ladyship?” she spoke for the first time, her tone and security in her words stunning you. Rae would definitely get along with her — it is, if she took care of her uniform first.
“Yes.” You started making your way towards the stairs. “Have someone prepare mine and Lux’s bath please and have some tea ready for us before we part for the funeral.”
“It shall be done, Your Ladyship,” she replied with a bow. “Will that be all?”
You even thought about not saying it out loud, but you could simply not control yourself, “Do something about your uniform. I can see your corset from here.”
There was no need to cast a look at her over your shoulder to know she was blushing. It made your smile broaden. Rae would definitely like her!
You sat in the drawing room looking at the windows with a lost expression. You still haven’t told Lux about Poe’s death and honestly you had no idea you knew what to say.
Part of you thought about letting Hux break the news. Another part trembled in fear at the idea. He would surely scar Lux for life… Well, but it could be fun to ask him to do it. He would probably stare at you as if you had grown thirty heads at the same time. The look in his face would be priceless.
Bringing the cup of tea to your lips, you sipped the warm liquid and leaned against the sofa. You were the first to get ready. It was still early in the morning and the last day of Lord Dameron’s funeral before the proper burial.
Although Lady Organa had it all settled to have his funeral in the Saint Paul’s Cathedral, His Grace, the Duke of Wellington, beat her to it and offered his mansion, Apsley House, as the last place for family, friends and comrades of War say their goodbyes.
Needless to say, you saw right through his good intentions. Even if Poe Dameron was a good commander, he was not even an Admiral or a General like Hux.
If your father were alive, you were sure he would not allow such. But if your father were alive, you would not have met Poe and taken Lux under your care. You knew he would never allow such scandal to befall upon his family name.
A sigh left you as you smoothed the skirts of your velvety black dress. In the very same instant, you placed your cup of tea back on the coffee table, the preceptress entered the drawing room leading Lux by the hand.
He was rubbing his eyes, still sleepy. And only you knew how grumpy and moody he could be in such circumstances. You waved the preceptress off, asking for her to bring him some hot chocolate.
It made him look at you with adoration in his eyes.
“Thank you, Mama.”
You bit your bottom lip.
It was now or never.
And never was not an option in this case.
You pulled him towards you by his chubby hands and adjusted his clothing. He really looked like a Little Lord with those clothes of his. A small smile graced your lips.
“Listen, Little Lord…” You started, caressing his cheeks. “We have to talk.”
He nodded, still too sleepy to say anything else.
“Well…” You breathed deeply through your nose. “You know Lord Dameron… the man who visits you from time to time and bring you some toys?”
He looked lost for a moment.
You helped him sit on the couch beside yourself, watching how he swung his little legs absentmindedly.
“The one who brought you some sweets?”
This time he smiled at you. It was all you needed to notice that one of his front tooth was missing. You touched his chin and tilted his head slightly back. It made him close his mouth automatically.
“Open up, Little Lord.”
He shook his head.
You knew how shy he became whenever one of his tooth fell. And considering it was one of his front teeth… Even so, you pressed him a bit more.
“Lux, open your mouth.”
He obeyed you this time. Unwillingly, but he did.
“When did it fall?”
“Today.”
“During your bath,” you completed for him. “Who helped you?”
Part of you was afraid he would say Hux did. You bit your bottom lip and with some surprised looked up when the preceptress came back and said she did. She approached Lux with handled him his hot chocolate.
“Of course you did,” you replied with some relief. You knew it made no sense, but you wanted Hux as far away as possible from Lux.
“What happened to Lord Dameron?” His childish voice brought you back from your musings. He had a chocolate mustache gracing his features.
Right.
You did not realize you completely fled the topic.
“He died?”
You cringed as the words left you. And to think you were worried about letting Hux break the news. You did even worse than he could possibly… Argh. You never hated yourself more than in that moment.
Casting a look at the preceptress and then back at Lux you were surprised to find him thoroughly concentrated on his mug. You accepted the small napkin she offered and cleaned his chin.
“He went to heaven?”
Rae Sloane would kill the both of you for this definition, but you thought that was a pretty good explanation for a four-year-old.
“Yes… That’s a way of putting it,” you conceded. “But please, don’t ever tell Rae that.”
“Why?” he asked, curiosity written all over his chestnut, expressive eyes.
“Listen, Little Lord,” you started, removing the mug from his hands. You knew he would pay you little attention as long as he had that in his grasp. You handed it to the preceptress and looked towards the door. She bowed and left the two of you alone. “Remember when I said he was your father?”
“Yes.”
He was puzzled. And slightly irritated you took his mug from him. However, he made no complaints. He knew when you were speaking seriously and that certainly qualified as one of such times.
“He is not coming to visit you anymore.”
“Heaven is a good place…?” Even if his words were those of affirmation, it sounded like a question. You nodded, allowing him time to formulate his sentence. “Then it’s fine, Mama.”
He was so naïve.
Innocent.
You wondered if he would cry when he saw Lord Dameron lying there in the coffin. Motionless.
Honestly, as much as you threw it in Hux’s face Poe Dameron visited, it was a very rare occasion. He did stop by to see Lux three or four times during his four years of life. Yet, he was still his father. And Lux adored him and his company.
Or his gifts, Rae Sloane would probably say.
You brought him to your arms and held onto him tightly. He embraced you back, leaning his ginger head against your shoulder.
In this very moment, the butler opened the double doors of the drawing room and Hux appeared, all dressed in black.
He cleared his throat.
“Ready to leave?”
Even if you were years older than Lux, you too could quite not grasp the concept of life and death and how the living made such a fuss over it.
And although you were versed in politics — your decision to bring Lux to his father’s funereal was but a political assertion —, it still fazed you how people could use the death of others to state their positions in the Ton.
Nobody even seemed to care — it is, except for Lady Organa and her family. They had been very courteous to you and Lux as well. Her son, Ben Solo, did not get along with your husband, but the two of them were at least polite towards each other.
He did not stay with you all the time. As a General, he had duties to perform and there were always elevated expectations over his head. And of course if he wanted to become Prime Minister, that was a good situation to start showing his cards.
His speech did that for him, although you could not understand why he did nothing to say Lux was Poe’s son. For all you knew — and only Lady Organa knew otherwise — everyone in Apsley House thought Lux was his and yours.
You bit your bottom lip as you heard everyone applaud all around you. He left the small platform where his speech took place and headed towards you — but not before greeting some Lords and politicians, including the Duke of Wellington himself, the last person to speak before the burial.
Before Hux could reach you, you excused yourself from Lady Organa’s company and asked a servant to deliver a small piece of paper to one of the reporters of The Times present at the funeral.
You kept your distance, not really sure you wanted to hear the Duke’s speech. It was funny — and infuriating as well — how every situation presented an opportunity good enough to one show off in the Ton, including a highly esteemed Duke. You never had any problems with him, but you had no qualms playing — and winning — politic games.
Part of you hated that they chose such a moment to start their dispute for the most prized position both in the Ton and the political field, but you would be damned if you let the Duke win.
You were so distracted in your own little world you barely saw Hux approaching, Lux trailing after him, one of his hands holding onto the fabric of his breeches.
Arching your brows, you opened your mouth to ask what sort of sorcery he performed over the boy, to have him acting so civilized towards him, but you closed it afterwards when he placed one of his hands on your waist and bestowed you with a kiss on the cheek.
Your heart broke a little at the realization that Lux was not yours. Not for the first time that day you wondered how it would change your relationship if the situation was any different.
“What are you doing here?”
You did not give him an immediate answer and disentangled yourself from his embrace, offering a hand for Lux to take.
He shook his head.
Instead, he accepted Hux’s hands and the two of them left you behind. A shocked expression on your face.
What the hell was that?
You had many questions to him.
As in, you wanted at least only one question thoroughly answered. No hesitation, no lies, no half-truths whatsoever.
After you put Lux to bed — and it finally downed on him that Poe Dameron was dead and was not coming back —, you left your chambers and headed towards your husband’s study room. He was either alone or still talking business with Rae Sloane.
Lord Dameron’s burial had been three days earlier. Rae arrived only yesterday. Needless to say, she lost no time to reprimand you for letting the boy believe his father had gone to heaven — it’s also needless to say she did not believe in God.
As for how close both Lux and Hux got in the last few days she had nothing to tell you. Sided with the enemy. As always.
And as expected.
You snorted.
Closing your dressing gown, braced yourself for her inquiry eyes and her disgust at your weakness as well. Honestly, you could not help your jealousy. It was not fair that Lux decided from day to night he preferred Hux over you.
And that was what was eating away your insides. That was simply not possible. He had bribed Lux with sweeties or something like that. The boy would never prefer his company over yours.
You raised your hand to knock on the door, but stopped yourself when you heard their current topic.
…So you plan on sending him to Eton?
There was silence after Rae’s words.
You held your breath, afraid they had heard you. You pressed your ear against the wooden door and waited for Hux’s reply. It came shortly after the sound of a glass — porcelain? — was placed over another surface — wood?
“Yes.”
He did not say anything else.
You bit your bottom lip.
“(Y/N), won’t like it,” Rae started. You could almost see her shaking her head, a strand of raven hair falling from her uptight hairdo. “She won’t approve of your actions. She will likely hate it if you send him to an overseas institution that accept children.”
Part of you expected your husband to take his time to respond. He was not one to small talk and he always thought his words very carefully — except, of course, when he was angry. It did not seem the case. You wondered, though, how he would react if he knew you were listening to this very conversation.
“She does not have a saying in it.”
“No?” Rae repeated. You could bet she was smiling. “Let me refresh your memories, General,” she added and he snorted, as if she said something so very amusing. “You’re not Lux’s father.”
Ouch.
That hurt.
You smiled in spite of the burning sensation in your stomach.
It seemed Rae was not on his side as you previously thought. You almost slapped yourself at such nonsense. Rae Sloane was not on his or your side. She played by her own rules and she supported no one, but herself.
The fact that she raised Hux and helped him with his abusive father did not mean she would support his every decision — even the stupid ones.
And if it concerned Lux, of course she would think about what was best for the boy and at the present time he needed you. The two of you.
…can see that.
You shook your head, pressing your ear again against the double doors. You missed part of what he said.
“I never said that was a bad decision,” Rae said, and by her movements — her steps — you could say she was about to leave the study room.
Crap.
But you haven’t heard everything. They still had so much more to say, right? You had to know what Hux was planning. He would never tell you.
You needed to know.
“I merely said you’re picking a hell of a fight with Lady Hux.”
You could almost see his smile — a mischievous smile at that — when he replied, “I can deal with her.”
Your heart accelerated, galloping against your ribcage — even Lux’s wildest horses could not keep with its rhythm. It had been a while since you last felt this angry.
First, he made the boy like him in the timeframe of what? Four days? Now he was planning on sending him away. On forcing him to part ways with you and Rae — the one he needed and would always need the most.
“I can deal with her…” you repeated his words, mimicking his smug tone. “I can deal with her… Really?” You bit your bottom lip in anger. “We shall see, Lord Hux.”
We shall see.
You had no idea what time it was when you heard the door of the anteroom cracking open. Probably very tired. If before you had no idea of your husband’s sleeping habits, now you knew he barely slept.
No wonder he had those dark circles under his eyes and his skin was getting paler and paler.
Well, he could die, you thought with the shadow of a smile crossing your lips. He could die for all you cared. He could die here, right now and you would not even bat an eye.
You brought Lux to the comfort of your arms and buried your nose in his ginger hair. Part of you hated that he even smelled like Hux — were they using the same shampoo? You would kill Hux if that was the case!
After he said he was sending Lux away you thought that nothing, no explanation whatsoever could ever make you love him or even respect him again.
You closed your eyes and decided to go back to sleep. Let the great Armitage Hux have the surprise of the century when he realized you put Lux to share his bed — your bed.
However, as this thought came to life in your mind, you heard him stopping at the bed; a candelabrum cast a flickering light in the chamber.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
You did not raise your head from the pillow, unless you wanted to smile and blow your cover.
“Well…” you whispered back, your voice heavy with sleep. “He was having a nightmare and I thought you wouldn’t mind. It’s not like you get any sleep, to be honest.”
He retreated, heading back to the anteroom, and as much as you wanted to ignore him and let him sleep on the floor — you could not care less —, you could not control your urges.
You moved away from Lux carefully, placed the blankets over him and kissed his cheek lovingly before you followed your husband outside.
Closing the double doors behind yourself, you watched as he took a seat. You did not mimic him, you would rather stay on your feet and preferably away from him.
“I thought you liked the boy,” you started, using the word boy as he did in the past. With disdain. “Perhaps you only like him when he’s useful to you.”
He looked at you, eyes narrowed, but nothing left his lips.
His silence both stunned and angered you.
You expected him to say something.
Anything.
To agree.
To disagree.
To mock you.
To say you were a child.
He did neither.
“You are a hateful person,” you started, biting your bottom lip. You were on the verge of crying, but just like Lux — just like him — you were too damn stubborn to cry. “How can you do that? How could you?”
He stood on his feet, his furrowed brows made you want to slap him. You did.
Or at least tried to.
He held onto your wrists and pulled you to him.
You squirmed against him, but he did not you go. His breath tickled your skin; his five o’clock shadow brushed against your cheeks as he continued to hold you.
Before you realized, you were crying.
From anger.
Desperation.
Hate.
“I hate you.”
These words seemed to do the trick. He let go of you immediately, and you stumbled backwards, only to regain your balance seconds later.
“How can you send him away? To some overseas institution nonetheless?”
You could deal with Eton — you knew eventually Lux would have to part ways with both you and Rae —, they only accepted boys after their thirteenth birthday. He had to study. So why not Eton, one of the best institutions in your own country?
His reaction was quick.
You almost did not see it.
It was as if relief flooded him, before he stared at you with those impossibly blue eyes of his, his expression cold and filled with disgust.
“I refuse to have this conversation with you if you are to behave this childishly.”
A slap would have hurt less.
You felt your cheeks heating at his words.
“Childish behavior is yours that want to separate him from his—
“His what?” he hissed. He had invaded your personal space, towering over you. His stare was so intense, he could almost feel it burning you. “You are not his mother.”
It only served to push you further.
If he would not allow you to slap him — he would cage your wrists the moment you thought about it —, at least he would not see it coming. You spat on his face and if the situation were any different, you would have laughed at the look of pure revulsion on his eyes.
Before he could outline any reaction, a tiny sob drew both of your attentions to Lux. He was staring at you with chestnut eyes wide open.
He was not crying.
At least, he was not making a big deal of it.
But Lux was not a child used to see anyone fighting. It probably scared him — you were always scared when your father and your mother fought.
Casting a glance at Hux — it was obvious it was all his fault — you walked to Lux, but he refused to go to your arms. He did not go to Hux either.
In that very moment, someone opened the door. Your body tensed at the thought of his preceptress or any other servant catching you in such situation, but it was only Rae. A sigh left you as she entered the anteroom and offered a hand to Lux.
He ran to her, wrapping his arms around her legs.
You felt guilty when she patted his head in a very Rae-ish manner and looked at you. Even if you could not see very well in the darkened room, you could bet her eyes hid nothing of her disapproval of your actions.
She nudged him forward and when he was not in your sights, she said, her voice low and chilly,
“You are ridiculous. Both of you.”
There was silence between you.
For a couple of seconds.
Of minutes.
You did not now.
Both of you sat in the couch, side by side; thighs quite not brushing, but neither paid any attention to it.
He would not say anything.
You knew it. Even if he had changed a lot, his refusal to apologize when he thought he was right would never change — you wondered if he did apologize to those above him in the army. He used to apologize to your father quite often when he was a teenager; when the two of you were engaged. Most of times he was not wrong.
And when he was, it was usually because of your actions.
Begrudgingly, you breathed deeply through your nose and started, “Please don’t send him away.”
You expected him to take his time to reply. You were not ready to have him answering you so soon, nor the content of his words.
“You always expect the worst of me.”
What?
Your mouth hung open as you tried to come up with a reply. Nothing came to your mind. After a while staring at him with an expression of surprise — you bet you never looked so silly in all your life, you said,
“You never gave me any reason to expect otherwise.”
By his sharp intake of breath, you realized that this time, your words felt like a slap to his face. But what did he expect? What did he want of you? You were suddenly tired of this game — and you barely stared it!
“I love Lux,” you said, your voice small. “I can forgive anything, but I swear, Armitage, I will never forgive you if you take him from me.”
He gave you no answer, but his intense stare made you shudder. Armitage Hux was not a man of many words and certainly not one used to talk about feelings — his or otherwise —, but his eyes — when he did not hold the reins of his emotion so tightly — hid nothing of what was on his mind and heart.
At the moment, you could tell your words did not surprise him in the least. He seemed almost… reassured at them.
“I can take you bribing him and diverting his attention to you sometimes, but I won’t let you let him study overseas now.”
There was a small smile on his lips as he placed one of his hands on your face, removing a strand of hair from your eyes and placing it behind your ear.
“Stop smiling.” You slapped his hands away. It made his smile broaden. “It’s not funny.”
“I did not bribe the boy,” he smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip. Even if you fought against it, your heart accelerated.
“So he became boy again, huh?”
“I was getting to know him better.”
“Why?” You furrowed your brows. His small caresses did not matter now. You were so curious you would even kiss him if it meant he would answer your questions. Subconsciously, you looked up at his lips, taking your time on them. “I know you bribed him somehow. Lux hates you… Or he used to.”
There was silence on his part for a moment.
You knew he did not like it when you said Lux hated him.
Why?
It made no sense.
“He will go to Eton when he turns thirteen,” he said, pulling you into a kiss.
It was brief. Chaste. A mere brush of lips.
But this, coupled with the information and how regretful his eyes and tone seemed to you, had you gasping in his mouth.
He took that as an invitation to take your lips more properly. His hands moved on your back, bringing your body against his; your legs straddled his.
Still, even if your bodies were so close together, and the moment was very intimate, there was nothing sexual about it.
You entwined your fingers through his short hair and placed your forehead against his. Undoubtedly, that was the first moment of — peace? you did not even know how to put it — something between you.
“I did bribe him with sweets. He has a sweet tooth.”
“I knew it!”
There was a moment of silence. You closed your eyes and lowered your head to his shoulder, your hand moving back, till it settled against his heart. He placed his hand over yours, both of your fingers entwining together.
Your heart sped.
In that moment, you could swear he felt — if not love, at least something —, he cared for you.
“He likes toffee,” he whispered, against your hair and placed a kiss to your temples.
“He does,” you whispered back, a small smile gracing your lips.
He moved from the couch and took you in his arms. It elicited a light squeal from you. Without your permission, your thoughts went back to your first night together — he held you like this, your arms around his shoulders, your legs wrapped around his waist as he guided you to the bed.
When he lowered you onto the mattress, you did not let go of him. He settled between your legs, but he did not try anything. He did not move. His fingers traced your cheeks in a small caress that had you leaning against him.
“Why?”
There was no answer from his part. It was if he did not hear you. His right hand moved from the mattress and caressed the underside of your knee, his fingers moving slightly up towards your thighs.
“Why, can’t we always be like this?”
You caressed his face.
In the darkened room, you could not see it, but you could feel every plane of his chiseled jaw and sculpted nose. He was a very beautiful man. You remembered how he used to take your breath away when he merely cast a glance at you in the past.
You brushed your fingers against his lips, and the need to kiss him again was almost overpowering.
“Why can’t we stop fighting? Why can’t we just stop hiding things from each other? I wouldn’t be mad if you talked to me about sending Lux to Eton. I know he will have to leave someday, but… To hear it like that, as if you were playing with my feelings…” Your voice broke. “I can’t bear the thought of losing him right now.”
He did not reply.
Instead, he broke apart from you and sat on the bed.
It made you furrow your brows.
You thought you were having a moment… What happened to him?
“Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)? Why did you hide it from me?”
His voice was no more than a whisper.
But not a warm, welcoming whisper.
It was cold.
Devoid of any good emotion.
Enraged, even.
“Tell you what?” You sat on the bed as well and moved to touch him. He inched away. You furrowed your brows. What happened to that — peaceful? pleasant? — moment of before?
“He is mine. Lux is my son.”
A/N - That will be all for today. I hope you’ve liked this chapter. I honestly miss updating and writing this story, but as you well know, I’m rather busy with my thesis right now... So, bear with me ok? Soon there’ll be no thesis and I’ll be back to updating frequently xD
In the General’s Bed - Regency Hux x Reader - Ch. 2 - To outsmart a General
A/N: Hi, darlings xD As promised, here I am with chapter 2 of ITGB. My biggest thanks to everyone who took their time to give me some hearts for chap 1 and if you feel like... any reblog, any comment, any like is very much welcomed and appreciated. I hope you like it xD
Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].
Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.
“THERE WAS ONCE A YOUNG SHEPHERD BOY WHO TENDED HIS SHEEP AT THE FOOT OF A MOUNTAIN NEAR A DARK FOREST. IT WAS…”
You adjusted Lux in your arms and kept on reading. It was raining, and your usual picnic and games outdoors had to be postponed. He complained, whined a bit, as expected, but complied shortly after you offered him a cookie and allowed him to lean against you as you read a book to him.
Smart as he was, he grimaced as you went further in your reading. Obviously, he understood why you choose “The boy who cried wolf” by Aesop. He took one of your locks and twirled it in his still chubby fingers. You knew he was upset, but you did not stop for a moment.
“…and when the boy complained, the wise man of the village said: ‘A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth’.”
The two of you stood a moment in silence, you placed your chin over his head and kissed his hair lovingly.
“Did you get why I chose this fable, Lux?”
He shook his head.
“But you do,” you replied in a soft voice.
He continued with your strand of hair firmly around his finger and closed his eyes; if you did not know him well, you would tell he was asleep.
“I lied one time,” he said, letting go of your hair and shifting in your arms to face you. “And I want to play outside!”
He was pouting, chubby arms folded at his chest. It took all you had not to laugh. He was so cute like that! You pursed your lips into a thin line and arched your brows.
“It’s no excuse, little Lord!” And before he could say anything else, you gestured with your hand, indicating there was still more to come, “and it’s raining outside, what do we do in raining days?”
“Stay here,” he replied begrudgingly.
He was still pouting. It was so difficult resisting him when he was such a cute little lord.
“Exactly, we stay indoors. Now, what do I want to hear?”
He was on the verge of tears, but you knew he would not cry. He bit his lips and his chin quivered; his eyes were cast down, focused on his feet. You brushed your fingers against his cheeks and forced him to look at you.
“Now, Lux, there’s no need to cry.”
“I am not crying.”
Stubborn and proud.
You kneeled in front of him and held his tiny hands between yours. You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.
“There is no need to hide your tears from me, little Lord.”
“Grown-up boys don’t cry.”
You arched one brow and pursed your lips. He would be very pissed off if you laughed right now…
…But the need was so overwhelming you had to bring the book to cover your face and look sideways.
It did not ease the need to laugh that much, but at least you could face him with a more serious expression. Your eyes softened as you brushed a tear on his cheeks.
“Now, seriously, Lux…” you started, keeping him away; you wanted him to face you as you said the next words, “who told you boys don’t cry? Grown-ups or not?”
He did not give you a reply.
You shook your head and bestowed him with a brief kiss on the nose. You did not let him cling to you. Dinner time was approaching, and you still had to get changed — with a guest. An acquaintance of Hux. If you were not mistaken, he was called Agent Terex. You sighed. It would be a boring night of politics and men trying to make you look like a fool because you did not understand a bunch of what they talked about.
Well, it was better having a guest than having dinner alone with him. A shiver ran down your spine as you recalled how it ended last night. You were not sure you were read at all for it.
“Let’s go. I am sure you are eager to tell Lady Rae what you have learned today.”
He stopped immediately on his tracks and looked down. Even if his ginger locks feel on his face, shadowing his expression, you could still see him pouting.
“Please don’t tell Lady Rae.”
“She’s going to be…” you stopped mid-sentence. You had to give him reassuring words. “Nice with you.”
You knew that Rae Sloane did not take a lie so lightly; he was on her black list from now on — and certainly for forever.
If Rae could scare the hell out of you, you could only imagine how frightening she could be to a child.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You will be later.”
“Can I just hide today?”
“And lie again?” You shook your head and pulled him by the hand towards the exit of the winter garden. “Not gonna happen, little Lord. Besides, she won’t let you get off that easily.”
He pouted.
“You are not going to convince me with this face.”
“What face?” he asked back, chestnut eyes wide open with curiosity. The two of you stopped in front of a shiny surface. You moved behind him and squeezed his cheeks. He grimaced.
“This crying face.”
The expression staring back at you through the mirrored surface was one of barely concealed anger.
He was so cute.
“Boys don’t cry. Only girls like you cry.”
“I don’t cry, little Lord!” you replied; hands covering your mouth in an expression of both surprise and offense.
He removed his hands from yours and folded them at his chest.
“I saw you crying the night the Lord in the horse got here.”
Oh.
Oh…
Oh!
That explained why he pretended to be sick for two nights in a row… He did that, so you could avoid sleeping next to your husband — or even getting near him, since you spent every waking hour by his side. While you appreciated the gesture — you did not want to share the same bed with the General even if your life depended on it —, you knew that Lux put the both of you in a difficult situation.
“Oh, Lux…”
“You were crying because of him, Mama?”
Although his intonation was that of a question, he knew what he was talking about. Otherwise, he would not pretend a sickness he did not have, he would not risk getting caught…
“What did I say about calling me Mama?”
He pouted.
“I hate him.”
You shook your head. Thankfully, he would change his opinion soon. It is, if he saw you crying because of the General again he wouldn’t…
“Now, let’s go. I’m sure Rae is dying to meet you.”
He groaned in response.
“She will kill me.”
“She won’t kill you,” you replied as you opened the door. You were not looking up, or you would have seen both subjects of your conversation a few seconds earlier.
“Oh hello, Lux.”
Quicker than ever, he hid behind your legs, his face completely pressed against the folds of your blue dress.
“She can still see you, Lux,” you whispered to him, a hand pressed gently against his ginger hair. “I promise you she will do you no harm.”
“Stop putting words in my mouth, my Lady,” Rae replied, a sinister smile gracing her lips. You were not sure if the one gulping was you or Lux. Her expression was one of killing you would be the merciful course of action. “Now, come along, Lux, we have a lot to talk about.”
He looked at you and only let go of your dress when you nodded. For as much as Rae could be frightening, she meant no real harm. And although Lux addressed you as his mother, she was the one to take such a role since the very beginning. He placed his small hand between hers and the two of them trailed the corridors, leaving you and the General behind.
Not really sure of what to say to him — would a mere hello do? — you started following them, but stopped on your tracks when his commanding voice reached you.
“I did not give you permission to leave.”
You took a deep breath when he closed the door of the winter garden behind himself and motioned for you to sit. You did so, choosing the loveseat so he could not get near you.
After a few seconds passed by in silence — you thought them as hours; to be in his company for even a minute seemed like torture —, you cast an unsure glance at him, only to find him holding the book in his hands, a bored expression on his face.
You sighed.
He was so difficult to read. It is, except if he felt disgusted. That was an expression he did nothing to conceal. And at the very moment he did not seem very pleased with you.
“Is that how you intend on punishing him for his mistakes?”
You sighed again. How were you supposed to tell him that punishing a child not necessarily taught them anything besides fear and resentment?
Hate.
A feeling that he seemed well acquainted with.
Love… such a meaningless word.
Funny, because hate was so meaningful to him. And love and hate, although not direct opposites had such a thin line separating them…
Noticing that he was expecting you to say something, you shook your head and concentrated on the topic at hand. It would change nothing to mull over his affections — or lack thereof — for you.
“Believe it or not, it’s a very effective way to teach children wrong from right, my Lord.”
He kept his words to himself and closed the book, handing it back to you. Carefully, you reached out for it, not very keen on having any sort of physical contact with him.
A gasp left you when he enclosed both hands around your wrists and pulled you towards him. His nose was almost brushing yours and his breathing was so mixed with yours it was difficult to distinguish them.
“The boy needs to learn discipline.”
His eyes were narrowed, you could tell he was very displeased with the disarray Lux caused for the last two days. At first, pretending to have a strong stomachache, then complaining his throat was sore. It was all gone to waste as soon as Hux called a physician he trusted — for he did seem to think both you and Rae would ask for some healer nearby to lie, so the boy would get off the hook — and had the boy examined.
The verdict was quick and clear: his health was top notch. If any part of Lux was sick, it must be his tongue, filled with the poison of his lies.
“You are too soft on him.”
“He knows he did wrong.” You agreed with the General. Most of times you were too soft on Lux, but he was the one being too harsh with a four-year-old boy. “He even apologized.”
His nostrils flared.
Sometimes, you even thought that he could smell it when you lied. And probably, he had heard part of your conversation with Lux. Did he hear the boy saying he hated him?
Oh, crap!
“He won’t learn discipline if he is not punished.”
You shifted your wrists between his hands, forcing him to loosen his grip around you. You stepped away, indignantly.
“Is that how you intend on raising our children?”
Silence.
He gave you his back and walked towards the windows. It was still raining heavily outside and from the way in which thunders and lightening crossed the grayish sky, it was obvious it would not stop any sooner.
Funny, because the weather mimicked your feelings right now. You were furious, just like the tempest castigating the green scenery outside.
You braced the book, inhaling the scent of old paper to calm yourself. It was infuriating how he could make you lose your composure so quickly.
The man from the past — the man you loved, worshiped and adored — never stirred such feelings in you. In fact, besides the butterflies dancing in your stomach whenever he got too close or stole a kiss, you could not remember ever getting mad at him before.
When his answer came, it left you boiling with rage.
“How I intend on raising my heir is none of your business.”
You took a moment to reply. He would not make you raise your voice. You were better than that. You were a respectable Marquise, for God’s sake!
“Then I am giving you no heir whatsoever.”
“Excuse me?” He looked at you over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes did nothing to hide how offended he was.
You turned on your heels and headed for the door. You would not stay in the same room as his. You still had to get ready for that damned dinner of his and he would absolutely not ruin your night with his horrible, grumpy humor.
Not even daring to look at him, you replied; your lips tilted upwards in a victorious smirk.
“It’s exactly what you heard, my Lord. I will never lay with you again. Meaning, I’m not opening my legs to you… ever.”
You expected him to be dinner to be a boring event — if boring was a word that could be used to classify any event in the company of Rae Sloane — with Agent Terex as a guest.
And it was, for the first half hour. The four of you were in silence and you wondered why your husband offered the man the courtesy of a dinner if he would not engage in any sort of conversation. It was clear he lacked the proper etiquette to be sitting near you — and while you had no complains about how he drank his wine or ate his meat, you did have a problem with his wandering eyes.
Not for the first time you saw yourself sticking your fork to his grayish orbs. If not for Rae Sloane’s hand placed over your thigh under the table, you would have acted on your wishes.
Again, why did Hux ask such indecorous, disgusting old man to have dinner with you?
For God’s sake, he was old enough to be your father!
“Tell me again, Agent Terex…” Rae started, bringing her goblet to her lips. You mimicked her, but regretted it shortly after, you almost spilled all of its content on the man’s face. And that was the problem with round tables, everyone could easily see each other. “Tell us that story in which you fell from your horse in front of His Grace, the Duke of Wellington.”
You brought your napkin to your mouth; you certainly did not want to get caught laughing in the man’s face. Rae had no such qualms. She laughed a little and then busied herself with more of her wine. Slowly, when you were sure you would not burst into laughter, you looked at Lord Terex and then at your husband. Lord Hux had the telltales of a smirk; his lips were slightly tilted upwards.
It did not go unnoticed by Lord Terex. His eyes were now narrowed, his face a bit flushed with embarrassment and… anger?
Certainly, a man of his mien knew how good it was to laugh at himself…
…Or not.
“I heard you plan on being appointed by the King himself as Prime Minister, Lord Hux.”
Silence.
There was only silence for a moment as you looked at Armitage, waiting for his answer. He cleaned the sides of his mouth slowly, as if there was nothing of his concern in the world.
You looked at Rae.
By her blank and calm expression, you realized she already knew it. Of course she did. Of course he would tell her of his plans before he even thought about telling you.
Typical.
“You heard correctly, Agent Terex.” His voice was calm, toneless. He brought his goblet to his lips and sipped the wine unhurriedly. His icy eyes focused on you.
He sure did expect you to react like the spoiled child he said you were just yesterday.
You bit your bottom lip, controlling your urges to call him on his act. However great the impulse was, you knew that was not the time to demand explanations. Your marital problems were none of Agent Terex’s business.
Besides, it was obvious he was doing it deliberately. He wanted to create a rift between you.
You snorted.
As if he could…
As if there wasn’t a huge rift already between the two of you.
As if his silence for five fucking years did not do it already.
As if his behavior two nights prior and his heartless words did not expand this rift further.
You drank your wine and smiled sweetly at your hateful guest.
“In fact,” you started, placing your goblet back on the table. “we are moving back to London by the end of this week.” Hux was looking at you, his eyes showed a hint of… admiration? You shook such thoughts away and concentrated on the task at hand. “My husband can’t be appointed as Prime Minister if he isn’t around the King or even living in the Ton, don’t you think?”
“I guess not…” Agent Terex replied, his lips curved in a smirk. He even opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by your husband.
Hux cleared his throat, indicating that dinner was over. As soon as you rose to your feet, the butler approached the door leading to the drawing room and opened it for you and Rae.
“A clever little thing she is…”
You cast a glance of your shoulder at Hux, only to find his eyes on you as he replied.
“Indeed, she is.”
Part of you thought that the glint in his bluish orbs was one of admiration, but the other part was still mad at him for his behavior earlier — and a few days prior — to give it — to give him — any credit.
It was some hours later in the night — a quarter past three, you guessed — when you entered his room, only to find it empty.
Your chambers were connected by a door that lead to each other’s room and to the dressing room. After trying for hours to get some sleep without success, you decided to go to him and pour your heart out.
Prime Minister…
You always knew he was a very ambitious man and he indeed had been irreproachable serving the Crown in the War, but to be a politician? Prime Minister none the less?
That was a bit too much, even for him…
As a General he may have come across all sorts of politics, but they all concerned the War. As Prime Minister War policies would seem child’s play. As naïve and inexperienced as you were, you understood more of the Ton policies than he believed. For starters, you doubted the King would name — or even consider — a bastard as his Prime Minister. And you were not sure the Ton would accept him either.
A sigh left you. What hurt the most was the fact he did not even think about telling you.
How did he expect your support if he told you nothing about it? Because even if he thought he could do it alone, it was crystal clear he couldn’t.
Not without you.
It did not matter your family was bankrupt when you got married — when your father finally admitted he needed the bastard’s help —, your name still had prestige in the Ton. And Armitage Hux would go nowhere without it.
You shook your head and sat on his bed.
Comfortable.
Huge.
Very huge.
Bigger than yours.
In fact, his entire room was better than yours. A bit too impersonal, true, but at least it was bigger than yours.
It did not seem fair that he got the better room when he spent so many years away.
Part of you thought — with some mischievousness and some thirst for revenge — that you could have transformed it into an extension of your dressing room; it was getting smaller by the day. You needed more space to keep all of your clothing anyways.
You shook your head.
As much as it would have been fun to have him getting mad because of his chambers, you did not want that room for yourself. You never did.
Not when it brought so many memories of your first night together. You caressed the linen of the sheets, recalling how you grabbed onto them as if your life depended on it as he brought you to unimaginable heights of pleasure.
A shiver ran down your spine.
Recalling that night always made you sad.
Not because of the night itself — no, it was perfect in every sense of the word —, but because of the morning that followed.
You woke up alone — no goodbye kiss, no word whatsoever —, with your father at the foot of the bed tossing you a dressing gown and telling you your husband had gone to War and would hopefully die there before he could even dream of having his title.
The pain of receiving such news was unbearable, but it could not compare to your father complaining how much of a fool you were for giving yourself to such a man so easily.
Now you are wasted. No respectable gentleman will ever want you, even if that prick is as good as dead.
You embraced both of your legs and placed your chin over your knees.
For days your father pestered you asking if you felt something — anything — different. He had to know in which level of stupidity you were currently. He feared that you were pregnant.
And for days you hoped you were; you even slept praying for all the known gods to bless you with his child. They had to listen to you. It was the only way your father would leave you alone.
They didn’t.
At first, when your moon menses did not come, you were sure you were pregnant. And you could not be happier. But after a few days when you woke up with cramps and your sheets were tinted red you were grateful you had not conceived — and for Rae’s company as well.
She held you in her arms — or you threw yourself at her and she did not push you away — as you cried. It was obvious she was not used to comfort anyone, and it became crystal clear when she broke the news: your father would have you removing the child, if your body did not do it alone.
From this day on, you did not know who you hated more. Your husband — for leaving you alone without a word — or your father — for hating your husband so much at the point of considering having his child removed.
You bit your bottom lip. You should not give it much thought. It was all in the past. Hux was alive — your father dead — and your father was wrong.
He died believing your husband had died in the War. He died believing you were a fool for loving such man.
In fact, he called you a fool so many times you started believing his words. And after Hux’s behavior, you would not say your father was wrong after all.
You were a fool.
Seconds became minutes and minutes transformed into hours. When you last realized, you were with your head buried in his pillow, inhaling his scent as you fell asleep.
It was hours later — or minutes? You had no idea —, with a slight movement at the end of the bed that you woke up.
You opened your eyes and did not recognize where you were. You looked up, but the room was immersed in darkness. The candles burned out completely and the sun was nowhere in the sky. In its place, only the navy-blue mantle, minus its moon and stars.
“Amirtage, is that you?”
When there was no answer, you tried again.
“Lux?”
There was a sharp intake of breath as you sat on the bed, now wide awake.
“I did not expect to see you here.” His voice reached you before his fingers did. You squealed as he pulled your legs, forcing you to lay on your back and climbed atop of you.
You breathed deeply through your nose, only to realize that he was closer than you imagined. It was almost impossible to measure the distance given how dark the entire chamber was.
Your fingers touched his shoulders, only to find it lacking appropriate clothing.
“Please, tell me you are not…” You bit your bottom lip and started running your foot along his calves. The lack of fabric covering that part of his body made your stomach churn. “naked.”
He gave you only silence.
You felt compelled to keep your search, your foot aiming high. Even if he wore no socks, he would probably have his breeches on, right? You did not even want to think about the alternative.
“Careful, (Y/N),” he placed a hand under your knee, preventing further movements from you. His thumb traced lazy circles over your calves, making you blush as you thought about the other day. You felt your cheeks reddening and looked away, even if he could not see you in the darkness.
His touch over you did not last more than a few seconds before he broke apart and lit the two candles.
Your first reaction was to check if he had his breeches on. He did. Then you breathed slowly — as if your life depended on it — and looked at his face. His hair was neatly combed and in spite of his lack of upper clothing, he looked as composed as ever.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Where were you?” you asked, not very keen on starting a discussion on why he did not have all his clothes on. You were the one to invade his privacy, after all.
His almost relaxed posture of before flew away. His shoulders tensed, and he straightened his back as he took a seat on the ottoman across the room.
Shaking your head, you climbed down his bed and headed to your room. You yawned, only now you realized how tired you were. Perhaps you should leave this conversation for tomorrow, when the two of you had your minds set straight.
He did not allow to go, however. He held your wrist and pulled you to him. You feel on his lap, sitting astride him; his legs between yours. Your hands held onto his nude shoulders and his moved to your hips, keeping you in place.
You drew in a sharp breath.
“Let me go.”
Silence.
As expected.
“Let me go,” you tried once again, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you tried to break free from his grasp. He tightened his hold around you. “What do you want?” you asked in a defeated voice.
Still, he remained in silence.
He was insufferable.
“Look, I am ti— you started, but your sentence ended in a gasp as he bestowed your throat with a brief kiss.
You widened your eyes as he moved his mouth southwards, gracing your clavicle with love bites and kisses. His hands were everywhere, under your slip, caressing your skin; over your hips, moving you sinfully against him.
A moan escaped your lips.
Ashamed, you closed your mouth and you placed your hands over his, trying to stop him. It only helped to further enhance the movements.
You could feel him through his breeches. And, Gods, he was hard… Twitching with need. You shifted your hips experimentally, grinding against him, and this time he was the one to inhale sharply.
He moved his mouth to yours, taking your lips in a demanding, lustful kiss. And it was with some sort of surprise that you felt and heard the fabric of your slip torn at your back, leaving your upper body naked to his appreciation.
Your nipples hardened almost instantly — you did not know if because of the arousal or the cool breeze entering the open windows. There was no time to voice your dissatisfaction for he chose that exact moment to close his lips around your left nipple, twirling his tongue and teeth around it.
A louder moan escaped you.
But very conscient of the occupants of the nearby rooms, you closed your lips, biting the inside of your cheeks.
The general leaned back more comfortably against the ottoman, forcing you to lay atop of him. His mouth returned to your breasts, this time capturing your right nipple between his teeth.
As his hands were both occupied with your hips, dictating your movements in that scandalous sex-simulation, you brought your fingers to your neglected breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between them.
He breathed hard and broke apart. A thread of saliva connected his lips and your skin. He rested his head against the ottoman, his otherwise kept, perfect hair, completely messed, falling over his forehead, as he watched as you pleasured yourself.
You could feel yourself getting closer and for a moment, all you wanted was to climax around him — with his cock deep buried inside you.
He too was closer. If the way he brought his hips up to meet yours and rubbed you harder against him was of any indication… Or even the dark color of his irises…
You bit your bottom lip and placed both of your hands over his chest for leverage. You threw your head back as the pleasure became stronger and your eyes closed out of their own volition.
Part of you expected him to kiss you as you came — as to muffle the sounds escaping your mouth —, but instead he brought both of his hands to your breasts, pinching your nipples without any mercy.
The pain, mixed with the mind-numbing pleasure had you coming with a high-pitched moan. Your legs trembled around his hips and if not for the considerable width of the ottoman, you probably would have fallen to the floor.
Your movements took a while to come down to a halt. And it seemed like hours had passed before you opened your eyes and looked at him.
The telltales of a smirk graced his features as he ran his fingers over your nude back.
You gasped.
Your hips ground against his once more and your entire body shuddered. You were too sensible after the orgasm, your senses in disarray. It took you a moment to notice his mouth moving, he was speaking something.
…watch you pleasure yourself.”
He rolled you on the ottoman, but instead of staying atop of you he moved to the floor. It was a mere glimpse, but you could see the evidence of his coming in his breeches. You barely had any time to feel proud of yourself, for he kneeled between your legs and started removing your undergarments.
Your face was now red crimson.
He wasn’t… was he?
“I want to taste you,” he whispered against the insides of your thighs, before he placed a small kiss to your hip. You were now completely naked; at his mercy.
And heavens, how you loved it.
He was good at this.
Too good.
Did he have any practice while he was away?
The very thought was a bucket of cold water to your senses. Instead of incoherent words and moaning as his tongue expertly stroked your clit, you found yourself holding him by his ginger hair and closing your thighs. “Let me go. We can have this conversation tomorrow.”
He looked at you. His eyes clouded with something akin to confusion. Need… Lust.
You shuddered.
“You came to me and I doubt you finally left your shelter for nothing.” The way he spoke shelter had you glaring at him. It was obvious he was referring to how you tended to Lux these past two days and spared him not a single a glance during this time.
“He is just a child. And he is jealous of you. Afraid you will take me away from him forever.”
There was silence for a moment.
He caressed the inside of your knee, but this time it did not spark a rush of feelings inside you. It was… calming.
That or his spell over you was completely broken now.
“He’s insecure, but he meant no harm. If you wish…” You took a moment to think over your next words, you were sure Lux would hate you for that. “He’ll come to you and apologize for faking illness these past two days.”
If he was a lesser man he would probably have snorted.
“The boy said he hates me.”
And who doesn’t? you felt like asking. But you knew that if you did you would be lying; you would be doing the same thing you condemned Lux this very afternoon.
Besides, if this man in front of you still had something to the man you worshiped in the past, he still had some insecurities regarding his upbringing and the lack of love in his family.
Before you could control yourself, you ran your fingers through his hair. His bluish eyes were intense, but soon he closed them and enjoyed your caress.
It was like a dream.
He had his hands on the small of your back, stroking you as well.
And even if the two of you were practically naked in front of each other — well, you were naked, for he still he had only his breeches on — it was in no way a sexual moment.
It was almost companionable.
You lowered your head to kiss him — on the lips or the face it did not matter, you just wanted to show him some affection —, your breath tickling his skin, mixing with his own, and then his words caught you off guard.
“Did I make you cry?” It came out as a whisper, with no trace of judgment whatsoever, but it still made you freeze.
You stopped caressing him and straightened your back.
His hands fell to his sides.
He stared at you.
You bit your bottom lip and left his warmth, putting some steps of distance between you. This time, he did nothing to stop you. He allowed you to go.
There was a moment of silence, as you decided whether to leave or to stay. You thought that you would get no sleep if you went to your room, so you gathered his shirt, neatly folded over an armchair close to a mirror, and covered yourself.
“When are we moving to London after all?”
Your question seemed to have caught him off guard, for he took some seconds to come up with a reply.
“As you stated before, by the end of this week.”
You took two steps closer to him.
“You should have told me.”
“It would change nothing,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone that you more than hated.
You could have asked how much it did change telling Rae about it, but you swallowed your words.
It would no do to show him how affected you were that he trusted Rae so much while he was not willing to give you the same benefit, even if you were his wife.
All your life you told yourself you refused to be a trophy wife and now you were exactly that.
For what was your use if not showing his companions — showing Lord Terex — that you were good at warming his bed and nothing more? And warming his bed you did that very night.
You bit the inside of your cheeks before you called him something you would regret later. Heartless bastard. You took a sharp intake of breath and sat on the loveseat across the room.
“It changes everything.”
He regarded you in silence, waiting for you to continue. Even if you knew almost nothing about the man in front of you — he had changed so much over the course of five years —, he seemed to know just about everything concerning you.
It was exasperating!
You wetted your lips and reunited your courage — for you would need it!
When a few seconds passed, and you said nothing, he left the bed and walked towards the anteroom. You could hear him pouring something for him — or for the two of you — and later his steps as he approached and handed you a glass with brandy.
“It changes everything because, my dear husband, if you want to be nominated for Prime Minister, you need me.”
He arched one eyebrow.
You smelled the drink and took it all in one gulp. It would give you some courage. It had to.
He was quiet throughout your discourse; his face blank. He nursed his brandy, sipping it lightly. When he returned his attention back to you, blue eyes as intense as ever, you gasped.
And found your courage.
It would be the last time Armitage Hux underestimated you.
You smiled sweetly at him as you continued, “Perhaps you don’t remember, but my father was a figure very close to the King himself…”
His eyes were narrowed.
His lips were pursed into a thin line.
You had reached him.
You had finally got some reaction from him.
Even if one of anger or disbelief — you could not precise which one you liked more. Both were very fitting — you had yanked some fucking reaction from him.
“Meaning, if I tell him you are not fit to be Prime Minister…”
He snorted.
“What you mean, my dear wife…” he stared, caressing the inside of your pulse. You did your best not to jerk away. “Is that my political career now lays in your hands.”
You nodded, feeling very confident.
“I would say it’s a clever move, if not foolish,” he whispered against your ear, trapping your earlobe between his teeth. You gasped this time, your nails deep buried in the armrests. “Lady Hux, you are playing a game you are bound to lose.”
Perhaps, you thought.
Instead of giving him any answer, you moved your head towards him, brushing your mouth against his. He licked your bottom lip, before he slithered his tongue inside your mouth. You could briefly taste yourself.
A moan escaped you.
For a moment, you let him dominate the kiss, your fingers caressing his neck and his ginger hair. Your left hand trailed his thighs. You stroked him through his breeches. Hard again. Ready to play. He inhaled sharply.
In your mind, all you could think was that if you lost, he lost was well.
That was a game played by two and the General was in for a great ride if he thought you quit so easily. If he expected to win, he better start playing by your rules.
A/N - And here you have it. I truly hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter. It’s one of my fav of this story. I’ll come back next Thursday with the next installment of ITGB. Sadly, there aren’t many posted on AO3.
which of your stories is your favorite? i can't decide between bloodbound and lie to me!
I don’t know? xD
That’s an excellent question, darling… but I don’t have an answer for you xD I like each of them for very different reasons… But if I had to choose rn, it’d be Bloodbound.
Let’s see… Lie to Me is my first Hux story. So… it’s special in many ways. Besides, I like this thing with the Syndicate and all… It’s easier to write as well, even though I’ve come to a point in the story in which updates are slower and writing the chapters are getting difficult
Bloodbound allows me to write about vampires my fav supernatural creature ever and also work with mature/darker themes and heavy politics, which I love…And In the General’s Bed… is all about the novelty of Regency and also politics, because I can’t seem to write about SW/Hux without politics…
Thanks for the ask and I’m glad you enjoy my stories <3 Love you
