Negotiations (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Ten Ways to Tuesday

You awoke to bright rays of morning sunshine through your window, with two hours to kill until you had to report for your first meeting with Hux. You had barely planted both feet on the floor when a gentle knock sounded at your door, sliding open without waiting for a response. Your two attendants were back, most of their faces hidden by black headwraps with attached masks that covered their noses and mouths, leaving only their eyes visible. They could be twins, for all you knew, their skin was a smooth teal with white and gray markings, their eyes the same golden brown.

"Did General Hux send you to make me into something pretty to dangle from his arm?" You called to them, stretching your arms over your head and yawning. They didn't respond, their slim figures gliding like wraiths toward you, one drawing you a bath, the other stripping you naked to take measurements. You sighed, allowing them to do their work, wondering what ridiculous costume Hux would force you to wear this time.

You looked incredible, even you had to admit it to yourself, but you didn't think you would ever get used to wearing a dress. There was too much of a breeze on your legs, even though the gown swept the floor with every step. And the shoes, god forbid you had to run, you'd break both your ankles. This dress was shiny black satin, a thin strip circling your neck, then draping over your chest and off the shoulders, your collarbones on full display. It fell like a cape down the back of your legs to fan out in a short train. The rest of the dress was fitted, with sheer, swirling designs cut out at the waist, hugging your hips and plunging straight down to the floor. They'd again attacked you with a hot iron, curling your hair and pinning part of it back, a single golden band placed just below your hairline. You'd snatched it out of one of the attendant's hands, scrutinizing it for the First Order's symbol, but it was blank. They'd brushed your face with dark, smoky colors, painting your lips a deep purple. You met Hux as you stepped off the elevator on the first floor, standing with a pair of stormtroopers, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Will you ever tire of forcing me to play dress-up?" You said by way of greeting, stopping in front of him with a mocking curtsy. He surprised you by stepping forward and planting a kiss on your cheek.

"You're welcome, and you look stunning." He took your appearance in, crown to floor, with approval.

"I'm looking forward to hearing your pitch, General." You took Hux's arm and strode together toward the glass double doors towering at the back of the lobby, leading out to a garden promenade. "I'm surprised we haven't heard from Kylo Ren or his Knights." You mentioned as casually as you could muster, your heels clicking on the gray stone surrounding a lavish fountain. You entered a connecting building full of meeting spaces, delectable scents of breakfast wafting through the hallway.

"Oh, he was here. He promised he'd have more to say when we return." Your blood turned to ice, Kylo Ren himself had been here?

"You don't mean..." You trailed off, catching Leia's eye as she rounded the corner from another direction, Dane and your father following closely behind. Your mental hackles raised the second your father noticed you, sneering in your general direction. Hux glanced over at you as you stiffened, the Resistance trio stopping in front of you. Dane looked like a brand new man, his limp so slight that it was barely noticeable. You knew the salve wouldn't be able to reverse the damage, but the rippled skin on his neck and jaw had returned to match his dark skin, no longer red and angry. Most of his wounds were hidden beneath his black robes.

"General Organa, Dane," Your father crossed his arms and stood tall, narrowing his eyes at you. "Father," You mirrored his expression, Hux bringing his other hand up to rest on your forearm as you tightened your grip on him. Dane stared at his hand, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"General Hux, we meet at last." Your father shoved his way to the front, shaking General Hux's hand with white knuckles. "Ivan, a fellow General for the Resistance." You'd inherited very little, if anything at all, from him by way of your appearance, but you could hold a grudge just as well as he could, and you would never forgive him for making you his last priority. Always choosing the war, the cruel words, the way no achievement was ever good enough. Your mother had died in childbirth, and he didn't let you forget it. He turned his eyes back to you. "And my daughter, on the arm of the enemy. Can't say I'm surprised." Every pair of eyes in the semi-circle you'd created snapped to your father, glaring, but Hux spoke first. Another surprise.