𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪⁎⁺˳✧༚ *･

“Did you see? The general is missing a lock of hair!” 

“Who could have captured a man like that?”

“Modest means to be sure, but a rising star.”

“I hear his salary jumped with his promotion!”

“A good thing too, the man is painfully austere, but he has a certain something.”

“With his rank, he’ll always have a steady salary. Whoever secured him has the assurance of income, at least.”

But who was she? Who had enchanted the general enough to be gifted a lock of his copper hair? Would he stay humbly within his own social standing or would he aim higher? He was ambitious, certainly, but how ambitious? 

The general was forced to endure more engagements than usual. Social teas, a concert in some gentleman’s parlour, dinner invitations. Not necessarily because they wanted his company, he was a little too overzealous for most, but for the opportunity to coax a name out of him. Anything; a hint, a little smile, a slight pinking of the ears at a mentioned lady would be enough. The general, however, entered these engagements as he would a military campaign. He remained unyielding; steadfastly avoiding giving hints, controlling his every reaction and deflecting repeated attempts at investigation with long speeches of patriotic fervor.

When the general proved too tight-lipped to even the most determined busy-bodies, eagle eyes swept over every eligible young lady. Surely they’d want to display their good fortune? Any lady who’d made such a match should be flaunting the favour for all to see!  Yet try as they might, despite the numerous social engagements providing opportunity to show off the gift, no one was able to spot it. No new locket it could hide within, no broach it was artfully crafted into. Not even tied with a simple ribbon and pinned to a bodice.

His friend, the imposing Lord Ren, had no problems offering his musings on the matter.

“He’s always displayed a fondness for dark hair.” “He wouldn’t be interested in some slight little thing, he likes someone who can hold their own.” “They must be strong-willed, the general sometimes needs a firm hand.” 

Not a lick of help; he wouldn’t offer a name, only these vague, admittedly odd, hints. And surely if anyone would know who’d captured the general’s heart, it would be the man he spent all of his time with.

“Of course I know who it is, we’re very well acquainted." He’d give them an infuriating smirk and excuse himself from the conversation to go find the general.

“I do wish you’d been more careful when you made the cut.” General Hux grumbled when he found him “I can’t take many more ‘politely interested inquiries.’”

“I don’t know, it’s certainly made these engagements more interesting.” Chuckling without apology at the formidable glare, he pulled his watch from his pocket, gently fingering the catch of the clever back compartment holding a precious lock of copper hair.