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Things had settled down for Hux since the war had ended.
He’d written a memoir about his time in the First Order and was pleasantly surprised when the Coruscant Times had hailed it as ‘poignant’ and ‘delightfully enlightening’. They had nominated it for the Galactic Holonet Book Club’s ‘Memoir of the Year’ and, although he didn’t win, the honor of being thought of at all tickled him pink.
Following on the heels of that success came the suspicion that he might just become popular with the ladies. It started out slowly, a whisper or a girlish giggle caught behind his back. At first he’d been wary, whipping around furiously but never discovering anything amiss. Now they came to him hanging off of their husbands’ arms, blushing furiously and looking for any excuse to playfully touch him. They’d grasp his arm, brush against his chest, or, in the case of one bold madam, run their fingers through his carefully coiffed hair.
The impromptu selfie requests were getting easier. Just last week the gossip holonet channels had happily declared that he looked “less constipated” when interacting with fans!
He’d visited the Coruscant Shelter for Displaced Animals on a whim and adopted a cat. A mangy ginger beast that glared at the world as if everyone and everything belonged in supplication at her feet but who had royally inclined her head for a single pat (and no more) when Hux timidly extended a hand. He was smitten immediately.
At the encouragement of his court mandated therapist he’d even started knitting.
There were also a lot of things that still stressed Hux out.
Politics were a mixed bag. Some days they caused his chest to palpitate wildly, whereas others he found that he quite liked them as long as he didn’t have to look upon the face of “the redeemed Ben Solo”.
The dwindling finances of the First Order after Snoke’s murder had caused Hux to dig deep into his family coffers and left him at a socio-economic disadvantage when it had crumbled to ash around him. Ren’s defection and the awkward galactic standstill that resulted from it didn’t exactly leave financiers eager to gamble on ensuring the wealth of the redhead that had walked away from it.
Millicent had taken to snubbing her nose up at every new food he’d so patiently introduced unless he was sitting on the floor cooing sweet nothings while hand feeding her every savory morsel. She might thank him for such attentive care giving but his back certainly was not. At this rate, he’d have to employ a chiropractor before the month was out.
To top everything off, last week it had been announced that his favorite hair gel was being discontinued.
What surprised him the most despite the highs and lows was how much he enjoyed just living now that Ren wasn’t around to give him a mental breakdown every few hours.
On the whole, things were on the up and up again.
“In front of the fence...”
Yarn creaked in protest as he worked the needle inside the tight loop and forced it to poke out of the front of his project. His tension was off. It had been too tight for at least four rows now but he had no idea how to fix it.
“Catch that goat...”
His left knee rose slightly to stabilize the end of the left hand needle as he wound the yarn between the cross section and around the tip of the needle in front. An unconventional approach but seeing people knit fluidly still completely baffled him. He felt like he needed three hands at all times. Two for the needles and one to guide the thread.
“Back we go...”
The yarn slipped off instead of weaving through the stitch when he tried to pull it through. He huffed, startling a soft mreow? out of Millicent from where she lay at the foot of the bed. Tightening his grip, he determinedly rewound the yarn and guided it through with a finger over the tip to ensure it’s safe passage.
“Jump off the boat.”
There it was.
A beautiful purl stitch transferred over to the second needle.
Only 5,698 more stitches to go.
As the weather shifted to herald the chill nip of late autumn, he found he was lonely.
“We’ve got to get out of this house, Millie.” Hux stated bluntly one morning over tea.
So he bundled them up, himself in a sage green sweater and Millicent in a smart black harness fitted snug around her tum, and set off toward the park.
It was rare to find actual living trees on Coruscant. Millennia of development had ensured that the world was a durasteel jungle, a maze of buildings constructed haphazardly on top of each other, sometimes even before the old building had been disposed of. What remained was a hodgepodge of structures that didn’t quite fit together.
It was so easy to forget that anything existed outside of concrete, grimy surfaces, and hazy pollution filled air.
When he’d discovered the tiny park nestled away from the busy noise of pedestrian life with it’s genetically bio-engineered flora and overgrown engraved plaque dedicated to Alderaan, he’d been enchanted.
He knew immediately that he’d have to take Millicent someday.
She clung to his shoulder tightly as he cradled her in his arms and peered at the world with wide, curious eyes. Neatly trimmed claws flexed slightly into the knit of his sweater, digging into his skin but never breaking it as he wove his way through the street traffic.
Some people threw confused glances his way but he staunchly ignored them. This moment wasn’t about them anyway. This moment was about having an adventure with Millicent.
They were steps from disappearing into Hux’s newfound secret haven when an overtly cheerful voice carried over the hum of the city behind them.
“Buddy!”
Hux froze.
He knew that voice.
If he could draft a list of people to never see or hear from again, this man would certainly make the top two.
“Wait up!”
The mere thought of holding a conversation with this man, this antagonistic bully of his for countless years of his military service, filled him with dread.
Hux turned as if fighting his way through a thick curtain of air and watched as Poe Dameron loped confidently towards him. His thumbs were tucked neatly into the corners of his pockets, creating tension on his trousers as he cut a brisk path straight for them, and the wind tousled his curls playfully as it twisted down the street.
All too soon they were standing face to face.
Poe grinned widely as he withdrew a hand and clapped it enthusiastically down on Hux’s shoulder in greeting, startling a hiss out of Millicent. It was quickly soothed by the man leaning in and telling her how beautiful she was while scratching her adoringly behind the ear.
“Traitor,” Hux mumbled as he awkwardly shifted in place, refusing to turn his face toward where Poe stood cuddling his sweet Millicent lest he end up with a mouthful of curl.
Poe straightened, hands back in his pockets, and swept an appraising gaze over Hux.
“You’re looking good, Hugs.”
“What do you want, Dameron.”
“You mean a man can’t show up just to tell his friend that the color of his sweater really makes the green flecks in his eyes pop?”
Hux flinched.
“I don’t have friends.”
Poe’s eyes gentled as he took a half step back, giving Hux the space he needed to be able to breathe again. The tension lessened in his shoulders, an action that did not go unnoticed by Poe as his eyes flicked from Hux’s face, to his shoulders, to his trembling hand on Millicent’s back, and, finally, back to his eyes.
Without hesitation, Poe extended a hand.
“Armitage Hux, I’m Poe Dameron and I’d like to be friends even though I’m quite possibly the most annoying man you’ve ever met.”
Hux considered Poe carefully. His eyes crinkled softly at the corners and shone with a warmth that didn’t feel duplicitous or wily. He found no cruelty or ill intention in the man’s face, only the relaxed, open expression of a man wanting to build a genuine connection.
He stroked Millicent’s back as he eyed the hand suspended in the air.
Having a friend sounded alright, he guessed.
“You are forbidden from ever calling me Hugs again if I accept,” he warned seriously.
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
P1B?
What the hell was a P1B?
With a sigh deeper than the Nabooian Sea, Hux set down his needles and sprawled belly first across his bed to blindly feel around on the floorboards for the datapad he’d tucked under it before falling asleep the night before.
A purl one below (P1B) is the same as a regular purl stitch purled through the loop below the one you normally purl into.
That sounded easy enough.
He could do that.
The yarn that Hux was working with was a beautiful shade of emerald and the perfect complement to the soft ginger that he and Millicent shared. The downside, he’d realized shortly after casting on, was that the deep color made it difficult to identify individual stitches unless you really scrutinized it from up close.
He tugged carefully on the stitches, separating them so that he could critically compare the glossary photo to his live work.
“Got you,” he whispered as he inserted the needle into a stitch, looped the yarn, and then turned his needle to pull it back through.
But instead of the smooth, buttery slide he expected his needle stuck fast.
He worked backwards through his actions, taking care not to twist the original loop as he reset his needles to the starting position. The stitch below was stretched out now and easy to identify but he double checked the knitting glossary anyway.
A regular purl stitch purled through the loop below.
Right.
‘Regular’.
Hux repeated the P1B slower this time, concentration knitting his brows together as he tracked each movement carefully. The needles wove through the stitching only to catch in the same place.
He dropped his head back against the headboard with a soft thunk.
“What am I doing wrong, Millie?”
Millicent merely blinked at him from where she lay stretched at the foot of the bed.
“You’re no help.”
She yawned.
Racing through the stacks had never been Hux’s idea of a fun, adventure filled day. He was powerless to escape Poe’s grip on his wrist as he set a brisk pace and Hux tried to power walk as quietly as possible through the reverent space. Only moments ago they had received death glares from the front desk when the obnoxious extrovert had burst through the front doors singing merrily about how much he loved the library.
Poe had thrown a cheeky smile to the head librarian and theatrically blew a kiss in her direction with an ‘I know you love me!’ and Hux had wanted to melt straight into the carpet.
It did shut him up though.
“Where are you taking me?” Hux complained as they cut yet another tight corner. The stacks here looked dusty and forgotten. It was as if patrons weren’t aware that the library extended this far and the resources on these shelves had sat sadly undisturbed for ages.
“Patience, Huxy, we’re almost there.”
“Huxy is not any better than Hugs.”
“Are you giving me permission to call you Hugs again?”
“God no.”
They skittered to a stop in front of an unassuming door and Poe whirled about to face him.
“Close your eyes,” Poe demanded, hovering his hand just over the scanner that would grant them entry. Hux frowned, channeling the totality of how massively unimpressed he was to have broken at least a half dozen rules in the span of five minutes and then be bossed around.
“Come on, we don’t have all day!”
Hux blinked languidly.
It was all the encouragement Poe needed to slam his palm down on the pad and skip through the open door before him. He laughed delightedly as he spun in a dizzying circle, arms thrown wide in an attempt to gesture everywhere at once.
“Isn’t it lovely?” He demanded, collapsing to the floor.
Hux took a more timid approach.
He stepped into the room, eyes flickering over the meager furnishings. A single adult sized chair sat along the wall with a picture of a loth-cat hanging off-centered behind it. Child sized pillows were scattered in a messy half circle around the chair as if an invisible audience would soon be held captive by whatever fantastical story the speaker would tell.
Gingerly he picked his way across the room and picked up an actual paper book from the solitary shelf in the corner. It was a book about a Bantha that had grown larger than life and the tiny Bothan friend that had taken him in. He flipped through the pages admiring the vivid details the artist had included in the artwork on each page and only glanced up when Poe released a contented sigh.
His friend lay spread eagle on the floor watching Hux with a sloppy grin plastered on his face.
“This is it.” Poe gestured grandly from the floor.
Hux stared at him blankly and Poe pulled himself into a sitting position.
“Remember that program I was telling you about in the park?”
“Vaguely.”
“We’re going to bring the lower level kids in once a week and teach them things like reading, dreaming big, finances, and building relationships. We want to show that them not every adult is out to get them. That some of us can actually be trusted.” Poe paused, eyes distant for a second. “Try to give them a fighting chance at a real future, you know?”
He was studying Hux seriously.
“I want you to be involved. You have a lot to offer these kids and I truly believe you would make a difference in their lives.”
Caught completely off guard, Hux simply stared down at Poe with his mouth agape.
“Think about it, alright?”
The library had an excellent collection of tutorial videos featuring knitting techniques demonstrated by a droid and, if a droid could do it with ease, Hux was determined to master it as well. A quick trip to download the videos he thought he’d need had been budgeted into his morning and now he sat, prepared and resolute, ready to take on the dreaded P1B.
You’re going to come right below the purl bump, insert your needle tip, and wrap as usual.
“God, she’s flying at the speed of light.” Hux mumbled as he propped the screen up against Millicent’s back, letting the droid’s voice drift in the background.
He wriggled to nestle into the prime knitting position on his bed, back against the headboard, blanket swirling around him but leaving one foot exposed to help regulate his body temperature, and then restarted the holovid by tapping the screen with his big toe.
You’re going to come right below the purl bump, insert your needle tip, and wrap as usual.
Yarn flashed as he tried to follow along live.
Be careful not to pull the needle back through the loop that you’d normally come through.
Oh. That’s what he’d been doing? Well, that would explain that.
Push the stitch off the left hand needle...
“Wait! Hold on! I’m not there yet!”
...to complete the purl stitch.
He dragged his toe across the screen, smudging it horribly, to rewind the video back to the beginning of the part he’d missed while his mind has been too busy exploding from his minor knitting epiphany. This time, he tucked the needle tip down sooner than in his previous attempts and hooked it back into the lower stitch.
“Please.” Hux breathed as he worked the yarn through.
He gasped softly as a stitch slid into place.
“I figured it out,” He whispered, staring at his knitting in awe, “I figured it out!”
Hux leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss between Millicent’s ears.
“Mills, I’m making you a sweater!”
Millicent purred on contentedly beside him.
In the end, Hux agreed to join the program Poe had created.
He was one of four adults that met every Thursday evening at the library in the forgotten back room. It was brighter now. Gone were Poe’s sad attempt at decoration and in their place were hand drawn pictures, colorful rugs, and cozy corners for a child to sit and observe if they were introverted and not quite ready to involve themselves in the action.
Those children were his favorite.
“Hello,” Hux said to the thin boy who had trailed into the room behind the rest of the children and beelined straight for the corner with the overstuffed bean bag chair. The child’s face was a jumbled mess of uncertainty and his eyes darted around the room, clocking what Hux now recognized as places a child could run and hide for a quick escape.
He gently eased himself into a squatting position and was rewarded with the child relaxing fractionally when he no longer towered over him.
“My name’s Armitage. What’s yours?”
He was patient as the boy absentmindedly chewed on the tips of two of his fingers, eyes alight with suspicion and trying to decide whether or not to trust the strange man with the kind smile and bright hair.
The shy words were muffled when he finally spoke.
“It’s Theo.”
“Theo,” Hux repeated, “It’s nice to meet you.” He lifted a hand but flipped his palm face up when it became clear the child had no intention of shaking it. “Would you like to read a book? My favorite is ‘Norman the Big Red Bantha’. What do you say?”
Theo slowly slipped his hand into Hux’s.
“Okay.”
Snow drifted past the solitary window of his apartment, busy in it’s pursuit to cover the world in a blanket of white.
Hux sat at the kitchen table with his feet propped comfortably on the chair beside him and a cup of tea still steaming beside his elbow. His tiny radio sat perched on the windowsill playing soft holiday tunes for the season to come.
He’d been excited when the snow had been announced and had even ordered a portable faux fireplace for the occasion. When it arrived it had been smaller than he’d anticipated, taking up only a small fraction of the space he’d envisioned it in, but he didn’t mind.
A miniature holiday tree from a merchant down by the park filled the rest of the space nicely anyway.
His fingers trailed lightly over the handmade decorations that he’d made with Theo the last time that they’d read together. Baubles with their favorite passages from the books they’d read written over the surfaces in Hux’s neat script and Theo’s messy beginners scrawl. Tiny lights wove through the branches, blinking demurely in the snow dampened light that trickled in through the window.
We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news about the race to fill the Naboo Senatorial seat! Binks and Solo continue to battle to prove themselves worthy of claiming the legacy seat, despite the scandals both carry in their past. In a statement to the press, Solo stated that he will continue to fight to reverse the trauma inflicted upon the galaxy by the First Order---
Millicent chose that moment to jump on the table and headbutt him in the face.
Hux scritched her absently behind the ear while stretching to flick the radio to a new station. Gentle bothan jazz replaced the harsh enthusiasm of the radio announcer.
His time with the First Order had been so fraught with desperation and he’d wanted nothing more than to belong. It seemed so trivial now that that part of his life was over.
“I’m not sad, Millie, I promise.”
He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her nose.
“I have everything I need right here.”
“How’s life, Armitage?”
Casterfo balanced his datapad on one knee and leaned forward in his oversized chair, intent on showing that he was present and invested for their conversation.
After months of regular therapy, Hux still thought it was silly that his counselor insisted on sitting next to him instead of using his perfectly good desk but he took a moment to ponder the question seriously anyway.
He had a cat that genuinely liked him despite the exorbitant amount of handmade apparel he subjected her to, and he adored her in return. Trying to imagine life without her in it now was impossible.
In an absurd twist of fate his mortal enemy had become a friend. Poe still drove him crazy with his borderline psychotic enthusiasm and inability to ever shut up, but Hux would be forever grateful for the late nights that Poe spent simply messaging with him as he processed through the irrational fears and insecurities that plagued him once the lights went out.
An actual tiny human looked at him as if he was someone worthy of being a role model. It made him feel more valuable than any of the greatest achievements in his military career ever had.
And, just last week, he’d watched Ben Solo lose the senator seat he was running for in a live broadcast.
“It’s good.”
Hux glanced down for a moment, fidgeting shyly with his hands as a soft smile stole across his face. He raised his eyes to meet Casterfo’s kind gaze.
“Life’s really good right now.”