The reception drags on and puts Hux on edge. A glass of champagne turns into another, and something sweet and caustic from Admiral Anson's silver flask to take the edge off ("you're clenching your jaw, Cadet. This'll help. Don't worry, it's healthy, made from fruit--") . Hux doesn't drink much as a rule, and she's aware of the intricate calculus of these functions--how much to drink to make them remotely bearable, how far to abstain to keep a clear head. Whether a clear head is, at this point, desirable at all.
She does calculate that it's ceased to be a reception and turned into a party when Anson decides to lead his Imperial comrades in a rousing chorus of "The Green Hills of Urth." Mitaka is showing people the holos of his shore leave on Ghibli Prime five years ago, Phasma's makeup is running and she's backed Officer Unamo into a corner, and Ren is skulking around the perimeters of the room like a misfiring security droid.
Rog has been leaving her alone to brood over his offer, at least. He's been at Landa's side from the moment he stepped back into the officer's lounge, and every time she catches a glimpse of him he's got a new drink in his hand and a new audience for his tale of bravery. It's fine, she thinks. Rog deserves his moment to shine. Maker knows she'll have hers soon enough. And I will shine so bright I will eclipse everything else in the sky.
"Let's have a speech!" Landa raises his champagne glass. "From the man of the hour," he adds, smirking a little. "Speech! Speech! Speech!" The cheer spreads to the other officers, and soon the room is a clamor of demands for Rog to speak, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and the rattling of ice cubes. Hux is far from the center of the action, but she can see Anson and Mitaka helping Rog climb up onto the of the tables.
"For kriff's sake, this isn't a mess hall, Rog," Hux mutters to herself.
"Another speech? I would have thought a man of action like your Zoller has had enough of those for one day."
"He's not 'my' Zoller," Hux says, without turning. "And he deserves to have a moment to speak. Maker knows everyone else did."
"Yours was shorter than usual," Ren says.
"I'm flattered you paid attention."
Across the room, Rog rises from a crouch. "Gosh, this table is kinda wobbly." Everyone laughs. "But that's all right. If I can stay in my TIE fighter when it's spiraling down to the surface of Gamaar, I can stand on a table for a few minutes to say my piece." The room quiets down.
"I've devoted my life to serving the First Order," Rog says. "Every fight I've ever been in has been for the good of the Order, to defend the men and women who are working to--to secure the existence of our people and a future for human children, isn't that how we say it, Landa?" Landa nods, and Rog goes on. "And we've been winning a little at a time. We've been securing planets on the Outer Rim, and we're moving towards the Core. We're taking out the Resistance piece by piece.
"I always thought I'd die for the Order. I still know I will. But when I was lying there in the wreckage of my TIE fighter with a bomb in one hand and a blaster in the other, I realized that I wasn't ready to die yet." Rog stops to wipe away a single tear. "I thought about what I wanted for my children, and my childrens' children. How I didn't want them to fight for the scraps that the Empire left us. I wanted them to hold the galaxy in their hands. And if I was going to make that happen, I had to make sure I did my part for the Order. I had to live to see the future go on, and I had to put that future in the hands of just the right woman. Someone who was just as dedicated to the future of humanity."
Hux's mouth goes dry. She snatches a champagne flute from Ren's hand and downs it in a single gulp.
"I came here because the Order and Supreme Leader Snoke have honored me with this." Rog touches the medal around his chest. "But I also came here to do the best and most important thing I'll ever do--to carry on the future of humanity. Not just to die, but to live. To give the galaxy the children it deserves." A stray beam of light glints off his teeth when he smiles.
"And I want to do it with the woman I've always seen as the embodiment of the what Order stands for. She inspires me. She always has. And I've done it all for her." Rog stretches his hand out, and Hux takes a few steps backwards as though she could escape the focus of his attention. "Boudika Hux, will you marry me?"
The entire lounge erupts into cheering and whistling. Hux's eyes dart around frantically--she can't melt into the crowd, not now. Not with this much attention on her.
"What are you waiting for?" Landa calls over the din. "Say yes, General!"
Clarity snaps back to Hux like a rubber band. Rog is a war hero and he's devoted to her. The room is full of sentimental old men who are willing to dig deep into their pockets to fund the First Order if Hux puts on the right song and dance for them. Rog is in front of her, bent down on one knee like some swain in an Old Republic opera, and Hux can still feel Kylo Ren's breath on the back of her neck.
Fill: Colder Than the Moon (8/?), Kylo/Fem!Hux, Hux/M!OC
She does calculate that it's ceased to be a reception and turned into a party when Anson decides to lead his Imperial comrades in a rousing chorus of "The Green Hills of Urth." Mitaka is showing people the holos of his shore leave on Ghibli Prime five years ago, Phasma's makeup is running and she's backed Officer Unamo into a corner, and Ren is skulking around the perimeters of the room like a misfiring security droid.
Rog has been leaving her alone to brood over his offer, at least. He's been at Landa's side from the moment he stepped back into the officer's lounge, and every time she catches a glimpse of him he's got a new drink in his hand and a new audience for his tale of bravery. It's fine, she thinks. Rog deserves his moment to shine. Maker knows she'll have hers soon enough. And I will shine so bright I will eclipse everything else in the sky.
"Let's have a speech!" Landa raises his champagne glass. "From the man of the hour," he adds, smirking a little. "Speech! Speech! Speech!" The cheer spreads to the other officers, and soon the room is a clamor of demands for Rog to speak, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and the rattling of ice cubes. Hux is far from the center of the action, but she can see Anson and Mitaka helping Rog climb up onto the of the tables.
"For kriff's sake, this isn't a mess hall, Rog," Hux mutters to herself.
"Another speech? I would have thought a man of action like your Zoller has had enough of those for one day."
"He's not 'my' Zoller," Hux says, without turning. "And he deserves to have a moment to speak. Maker knows everyone else did."
"Yours was shorter than usual," Ren says.
"I'm flattered you paid attention."
Across the room, Rog rises from a crouch. "Gosh, this table is kinda wobbly." Everyone laughs. "But that's all right. If I can stay in my TIE fighter when it's spiraling down to the surface of Gamaar, I can stand on a table for a few minutes to say my piece." The room quiets down.
"I've devoted my life to serving the First Order," Rog says. "Every fight I've ever been in has been for the good of the Order, to defend the men and women who are working to--to secure the existence of our people and a future for human children, isn't that how we say it, Landa?" Landa nods, and Rog goes on. "And we've been winning a little at a time. We've been securing planets on the Outer Rim, and we're moving towards the Core. We're taking out the Resistance piece by piece.
"I always thought I'd die for the Order. I still know I will. But when I was lying there in the wreckage of my TIE fighter with a bomb in one hand and a blaster in the other, I realized that I wasn't ready to die yet." Rog stops to wipe away a single tear. "I thought about what I wanted for my children, and my childrens' children. How I didn't want them to fight for the scraps that the Empire left us. I wanted them to hold the galaxy in their hands. And if I was going to make that happen, I had to make sure I did my part for the Order. I had to live to see the future go on, and I had to put that future in the hands of just the right woman. Someone who was just as dedicated to the future of humanity."
Hux's mouth goes dry. She snatches a champagne flute from Ren's hand and downs it in a single gulp.
"I came here because the Order and Supreme Leader Snoke have honored me with this." Rog touches the medal around his chest. "But I also came here to do the best and most important thing I'll ever do--to carry on the future of humanity. Not just to die, but to live. To give the galaxy the children it deserves." A stray beam of light glints off his teeth when he smiles.
"And I want to do it with the woman I've always seen as the embodiment of the what Order stands for. She inspires me. She always has. And I've done it all for her." Rog stretches his hand out, and Hux takes a few steps backwards as though she could escape the focus of his attention. "Boudika Hux, will you marry me?"
The entire lounge erupts into cheering and whistling. Hux's eyes dart around frantically--she can't melt into the crowd, not now. Not with this much attention on her.
"What are you waiting for?" Landa calls over the din. "Say yes, General!"
Clarity snaps back to Hux like a rubber band. Rog is a war hero and he's devoted to her. The room is full of sentimental old men who are willing to dig deep into their pockets to fund the First Order if Hux puts on the right song and dance for them. Rog is in front of her, bent down on one knee like some swain in an Old Republic opera, and Hux can still feel Kylo Ren's breath on the back of her neck.
"Rog," she says. "Oh, Rog. Of course I will."