new anon here!. this got pretty long, so, just be prepared. yep. it got away from me a lot, but I can say right now that I tried to include everything but the mpreg. the first is told from leia's "Point of View", the second hux's, and the third kylo ren's. it's all chronological, though, and the sections don't overlap in time.
Leia POV first: 1,478 words. Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Torture.
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Leia has never been the type to hesitate when her finger is on the trigger. Death is a fact of life, and to save the galaxy, a few lives can be spared. They have to be. No matter the friendship she’s witness between the stormtrooper still in a coma on the medical level and others, there are too many of them to spare them all. The blaster has to be shot sometimes, and people have to die.
And yet, now, when she sees the trembling, bloody lips of the First Order General in his cell, all she can think is how those lips issues the annihilation of worlds. This man did not hesitate to destroy, to murder, to kill, to show no mercy, for his own cause, and yet she knows how horribly wrong it is. It almost makes her want to start showing mercy to the stormtroopers she herself kills, and those who she orders others to kill. Simple and flexible women and men like Finn, she considers giving a second chance to those she needs to kill, like the First Order, Empire, whatever they call themselves today, never did.
Then, General Hux spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground, and that all goes out the window. He’s too precise. It’s like a droid, but without the personality, without the soul. Every movement he makes would seem calculated if it wasn’t the effortless way he carried them out. He’s mechanical, and he doesn’t care for his own personal safety. She should kill him, this very moment. Honestly, she wants to. He cannot live. The world can’t be with men like this, it can’t--
She shakes her head, collects her thoughts. She is kind. She can kill in battle, like anyone else. But she is kind. He’s still a person, albeit a collection of every poison in the world, just like she began to consider of her father, there must be some good behind those frozen blue eyes.
“Returned to ask about Finalizer plans? Did you talk to your lower officers, ask them what questions to interrogate me with? If you’re not skilled enough to carry out this torture session, you can have someone else perform it. It won’t make any difference, I hope you’re aware.”
She sits down opposite him, letting him run his mouth. He’s been here approximately four days, not including the 16 hours he was too wounded and unconscious to communicate. He’s dealt a nasty wound to the leg, the type that leaves a person nearly unable to walk. They’ve put a brace and a boot on it, but Leia doesn’t expect he’ll be able to walk soon.
(The idea that he can’t run away flitters through her mind, but she pushes it out. There’s no use in being pushed entirely by hatred, especially not with her force sensitivity.)
“I’m here to ask you about my son.” She says, observing how he looks only slightly surprised by the question. Then, there’s a little glint in his eyes, that he’s won, and they’ve given up on asking him about the finalizer information.
“What son? As Commander Ren would say, that boy is dead, and a man has grown strong, tall, and full of hate in his place.” He hisses right back at her, and she can hear it in his voice, and she knows what he’s attempting. He wants to push salt on her wounds, wants to make it hurt even more for her. Wants to drive that knife further into her and twist it.
“You know that’s not true.” Leia replies. That’s the thing to interogattion, always make it seem like you know something more about the information you’re attempting to get. “My husband has told me so, he is not as strong as he wills himself to be.”
“Your husband?” Hux replies. “Oh, come on. You know he stabbed him, right in the front. That he saw his face while he did it. Even if the man is not dead, he still completed the task required of him, that will surely be enough in his master’s eyes.”
She lets all of his words sink in, carefully choosing what to say next herself. She can be calculating too, or she can try. “Tell me more about this master figure.”
She can see it from the look on his face; he slipped up. He should not have mentioned that, or at least he didn’t think that the Resistance was aware of that the Order was not working alone. Of course she knew, no one could expect that she watched her son stolen from beneath her brother without there being some outside influence. Ben was a troublesome child, he claimed to be very independent, but Leia herself knows how often he could barely open a jar of jam by himself, much less get in common conversations with outsiders. (Reminiscing doesn’t help, she needs to remind herself. That only brings pain, and she doesn’t trust herself with that much pain, not knowing that pain brings anger, and being Luke’s sister, anger is more dangerous to her than most out there.)
“Negative. I refuse.” He responds, but not after a pause.
She replies faster, with barely a breath in-between them. “Then tell me more about Ben. Ren. Whatever you want to call him.”
She’s met with silence by the General.
“We’re not as harsh as your soldiers. We don’t have to kill you, we can feed you and let you live here until the end of your days. Eventually you’re bound to say something.” She recognizes the look in his eyes when she talks. He’s a type of man he’s had too much experience with, the type of man who never expected to live past fifty, the type who has always believed they’d die young for a cause. The idea of living without fulfilling that cause makes the man shudder.
He makes a quick recovery. “You’ll be dead long before that, old woman.” At the insult, she feels the force within her harden and shiver, and then fall back into a lull. It’s not worth getting mad over, especially not when he’s opening his bloody lips to speak again. “I can’t even assure you that your son will live that much longer without me. He’s pathetic on his own, without me, without the master.”
It takes her a second to collect that data. She, as of yet, doesn’t know what it means. At all. She has a few ideas, but jumping to conclusions rarely helps, it only means she hears what she wants to. “Without you?” She finally decides to say.
The General adjusts his neck, sitting up straight in his chair, and attempts to messily wipe the blood from his split lip against the shoulder of his uniform, the only place he can reach with the handcuffs binding his arms behind him. “He is violent, to say the least. Destroys himself and the environment around him. It’s only days before his will to use the force leaves him with wounds he doesn’t know how to disinfect. Or maybe he’ll slash up the life support above the Finalizer,” he gives her a look at that, meaning that he’s not giving away any important details, any ship that size needs multiple life support stations, “and he’ll suffocate in that mask of his.”
Leia can’t even begin to list which of these discoveries worry her most. “The force leaves him with wounds?” She repeats, phrasing it as a question now. She thinks of all the knowledge of the force she has, everything Luke has taught her, all she has read, all his instructions of the younglings (don’t think about those).
“The force, his training, whatever you want to call it.” General Hux replies, doing his best to sound dismissive. He knows something of this, though, Leia can tell. This, at least, was in some degree personal. He knew about this, more than any average stormtrooper might, more than Finn would. “It destroys him from the inside, makes him break himself from the outside, so the mental and physical anger can morph into one singular entity.” He spits the words out, and Leia lets her lips fall open. She has suspected he has a personal connection to it, but this is the first time she’s seen his stoic anger slipping, he’s not just simple and evil, but something more now, more complex. Hux relaxes his back against the back wall of the cot he’s been given, against the wall of the cot, his perfect posture falling into casualness. “I personally think it’s bullshit, but the wounds are, I can assure you, very real.”
Leia looks around the room, and spotting the behind her, she pulls it over, so it faces Hux, and sits down. “Real in what ways?” She says, and finally, for once, Hux talks.
Re: Hux/Kylo [FILL] [1/3] - Captured Hux | Tortured? Kylo
Leia POV first: 1,478 words. Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Torture.
+++
Leia has never been the type to hesitate when her finger is on the trigger. Death is a fact of life, and to save the galaxy, a few lives can be spared. They have to be. No matter the friendship she’s witness between the stormtrooper still in a coma on the medical level and others, there are too many of them to spare them all. The blaster has to be shot sometimes, and people have to die.
And yet, now, when she sees the trembling, bloody lips of the First Order General in his cell, all she can think is how those lips issues the annihilation of worlds. This man did not hesitate to destroy, to murder, to kill, to show no mercy, for his own cause, and yet she knows how horribly wrong it is. It almost makes her want to start showing mercy to the stormtroopers she herself kills, and those who she orders others to kill. Simple and flexible women and men like Finn, she considers giving a second chance to those she needs to kill, like the First Order, Empire, whatever they call themselves today, never did.
Then, General Hux spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground, and that all goes out the window. He’s too precise. It’s like a droid, but without the personality, without the soul. Every movement he makes would seem calculated if it wasn’t the effortless way he carried them out. He’s mechanical, and he doesn’t care for his own personal safety. She should kill him, this very moment. Honestly, she wants to. He cannot live. The world can’t be with men like this, it can’t--
She shakes her head, collects her thoughts. She is kind. She can kill in battle, like anyone else. But she is kind. He’s still a person, albeit a collection of every poison in the world, just like she began to consider of her father, there must be some good behind those frozen blue eyes.
“Returned to ask about Finalizer plans? Did you talk to your lower officers, ask them what questions to interrogate me with? If you’re not skilled enough to carry out this torture session, you can have someone else perform it. It won’t make any difference, I hope you’re aware.”
She sits down opposite him, letting him run his mouth. He’s been here approximately four days, not including the 16 hours he was too wounded and unconscious to communicate. He’s dealt a nasty wound to the leg, the type that leaves a person nearly unable to walk. They’ve put a brace and a boot on it, but Leia doesn’t expect he’ll be able to walk soon.
(The idea that he can’t run away flitters through her mind, but she pushes it out. There’s no use in being pushed entirely by hatred, especially not with her force sensitivity.)
“I’m here to ask you about my son.” She says, observing how he looks only slightly surprised by the question. Then, there’s a little glint in his eyes, that he’s won, and they’ve given up on asking him about the finalizer information.
“What son? As Commander Ren would say, that boy is dead, and a man has grown strong, tall, and full of hate in his place.” He hisses right back at her, and she can hear it in his voice, and she knows what he’s attempting. He wants to push salt on her wounds, wants to make it hurt even more for her. Wants to drive that knife further into her and twist it.
“You know that’s not true.” Leia replies. That’s the thing to interogattion, always make it seem like you know something more about the information you’re attempting to get. “My husband has told me so, he is not as strong as he wills himself to be.”
“Your husband?” Hux replies. “Oh, come on. You know he stabbed him, right in the front. That he saw his face while he did it. Even if the man is not dead, he still completed the task required of him, that will surely be enough in his master’s eyes.”
She lets all of his words sink in, carefully choosing what to say next herself. She can be calculating too, or she can try. “Tell me more about this master figure.”
She can see it from the look on his face; he slipped up. He should not have mentioned that, or at least he didn’t think that the Resistance was aware of that the Order was not working alone. Of course she knew, no one could expect that she watched her son stolen from beneath her brother without there being some outside influence. Ben was a troublesome child, he claimed to be very independent, but Leia herself knows how often he could barely open a jar of jam by himself, much less get in common conversations with outsiders.
(Reminiscing doesn’t help, she needs to remind herself. That only brings pain, and she doesn’t trust herself with that much pain, not knowing that pain brings anger, and being Luke’s sister, anger is more dangerous to her than most out there.)
“Negative. I refuse.” He responds, but not after a pause.
She replies faster, with barely a breath in-between them. “Then tell me more about Ben. Ren. Whatever you want to call him.”
She’s met with silence by the General.
“We’re not as harsh as your soldiers. We don’t have to kill you, we can feed you and let you live here until the end of your days. Eventually you’re bound to say something.” She recognizes the look in his eyes when she talks. He’s a type of man he’s had too much experience with, the type of man who never expected to live past fifty, the type who has always believed they’d die young for a cause. The idea of living without fulfilling that cause makes the man shudder.
He makes a quick recovery. “You’ll be dead long before that, old woman.” At the insult, she feels the force within her harden and shiver, and then fall back into a lull. It’s not worth getting mad over, especially not when he’s opening his bloody lips to speak again. “I can’t even assure you that your son will live that much longer without me. He’s pathetic on his own, without me, without the master.”
It takes her a second to collect that data. She, as of yet, doesn’t know what it means. At all. She has a few ideas, but jumping to conclusions rarely helps, it only means she hears what she wants to. “Without you?” She finally decides to say.
The General adjusts his neck, sitting up straight in his chair, and attempts to messily wipe the blood from his split lip against the shoulder of his uniform, the only place he can reach with the handcuffs binding his arms behind him. “He is violent, to say the least. Destroys himself and the environment around him. It’s only days before his will to use the force leaves him with wounds he doesn’t know how to disinfect. Or maybe he’ll slash up the life support above the Finalizer,” he gives her a look at that, meaning that he’s not giving away any important details, any ship that size needs multiple life support stations, “and he’ll suffocate in that mask of his.”
Leia can’t even begin to list which of these discoveries worry her most. “The force leaves him with wounds?” She repeats, phrasing it as a question now. She thinks of all the knowledge of the force she has, everything Luke has taught her, all she has read, all his instructions of the younglings (don’t think about those).
“The force, his training, whatever you want to call it.” General Hux replies, doing his best to sound dismissive. He knows something of this, though, Leia can tell. This, at least, was in some degree personal. He knew about this, more than any average stormtrooper might, more than Finn would. “It destroys him from the inside, makes him break himself from the outside, so the mental and physical anger can morph into one singular entity.” He spits the words out, and Leia lets her lips fall open. She has suspected he has a personal connection to it, but this is the first time she’s seen his stoic anger slipping, he’s not just simple and evil, but something more now, more complex.
Hux relaxes his back against the back wall of the cot he’s been given, against the wall of the cot, his perfect posture falling into casualness. “I personally think it’s bullshit, but the wounds are, I can assure you, very real.”
Leia looks around the room, and spotting the behind her, she pulls it over, so it faces Hux, and sits down. “Real in what ways?” She says, and finally, for once, Hux talks.