Manners Maketh Man

‘I’m leaving,’ Ren repeated, standing shoulder to shoulder, barely inches away, they had never been further apart. ‘I’m leaving and there’s a chance I’m not coming back.’ Where? He had wanted to ask. Don’t. He had wanted to say. Stay. He had wanted to beg, but good was what he muttered under his breath. Ren tensed up at that, and Hux had fully expected a punch to the face or the force around his neck, but Ren does nothing, fists balled and jaws clenched, Ren merely walks away.

In case you missed it, here is chapter II of Tempest. // Ben Solo dreamed of a planet with two suns, one a light golden-yellow and the other a blistering orange-red, and it felt like reconciliation. He sat through the sandstorm seen in his mind’s eye, quiet, contemplative – like how Luke had taught him, meditating, only, it was much easier compared to when he had been fully awake, sitting on the smoothed rock surface of the temple, the air around him cold and filled with a thrumming force of light. He sat through the sandstorm, dust and dirt brushing past his skin, his hair which was tied into a braid in the glowing hours of dawn was let down in his sleep, soft long locks of black cascading over his shoulder.

It rained on Arkanis, torrential downpours that raged from days on end. Hux remembered being afraid of the storms, lying on his cot late at night long after mother had kissed him goodnight, he would hide under the covers, holding back tears as lightning crackled from the sky. Father had told him that crying was a weakness, that it wasn’t right for the son of Commandant Brendol Hux of the Galactic Empire to be tainted with such a fault, and he had wanted so very much to be strong, to be the son that his father desired, but the storm – his breath hitches as the thunder roared, and he told himself that a hurricane never runs from the rain.

JOIN THE CULT OF THE V8. I LIVE, I DIE, I LIVE AGAIN! WE RIDE INTO VALHALLA, SHINY AND CHROME!