#huxlings

“Stars, what were you all trying to make?” He raises his brow at the mess, unable to figure out from the mismatched ingredients scattered all over the kitchen.

“Sylmar said we should try to make Mama waffles—” Amelie starts as she pointed to a skillet half filled with lumpy, powdery batter.

“Did not! I said flatcakes!” Sylmar shoots back, sticking out his lower lip. Behind the squabbling older twins, Leander lets out a distressed whine.

“Father, I told them we should wait for you, but they didn’t listen!” Amelie turns to glare at him, but before it could break out into further disagreement Kylo shushes them all and gets down on one knee.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad about the mess,” he speaks slowly, like Hux taught him to when their children were still young. “But let’s clean up the kitchen for Mama, okay? Then I’ll help you all make him a nice breakfast.”

Usually, it’s difficult to get the children to clean up their own bedrooms, but apparently they’re more motivated when Hux’s feelings are on the line. Kylo carefully oversees the tidying, telling his children where each errant pot and pan is stored, and spraying mild cleaner over the stains and spills so they can work together to mop and wipe them up. Gradually, the kitchen returns to its previous state, and although Hux will surely find fault and summon the cleaning droid to take care of all the missed nooks and crannies later, Kylo is satisfied for the time being.

Some eggs managed to survive the carnage of the first attempt at breakfast, so he decides to whip up a decent omelette for his mate’s breakfast. He lets each of the kids pull up chairs to the counter and gives them each a job they can do with little fuss. He shows Aeon and Leander how to properly crack eggs without getting yolk all over, and permits Amelia and Sylmar to chop up the veggies for the omelette and fresh fruit as a side dish as long as they promise not to wield their knives like pretend lightsabers. All four quickly absorb themselves in their respective tasks, happily asking for their father’s approval with each crack or chop. Kylo nods and smiles along, sure to compliment them just as Hux does. Positively encourage each of their talents, I don’t want any of them thinking they’re lesser than the others, the familiar voice of his mate echoes in his head.

Once they’re finished, Kylo sends them away to scribble a nice card for Hux as he cranks on the stove and slips the beaten eggs into a pan. He smiles softly to himself at the sounds of his children as they debate over which colors to use and what to say to their mother. There’s a bit of squabbling over who gets monopoly over the orange crayon, but it quickly settles, leaving Kylo ample time to get the flip of Hux’s omelette down perfectly.

“Are you all ready?” Kylo asks as he deftly plates his mate’s breakfast, piling the fruit alongside the pillowy eggs. The children scramble to their feet, happily trundling over to him with the huge, folded bit of cardstock proudly displayed. Kylo chuckles softly at the colorful scribbles, depicting a scene of all four kids and their parents in the imperial gardens, with Hux prominently displayed in the middle—complete with a big round bubble drawn right on his stomach. He’s going to love that.

“Why don’t you go on ahead and wake Mama up? I’ll bring him his breakfast,” Kylo instructs as he pours water from the heated kettle into Hux’s favored cups alongside a pair of decaffeinated Tarine tea bags. The children squeak happily, running off in a little mob with Kylo quickly following, clutching the cup in one hand as he balances the plate in the other. He thinks he must make quite a sight—still in his enforcer’s regalia, which often served as the last thing many of Hux’s enemies saw, but sporting a far softer expression. Like some breed of newly domesticated wolf.

Ahead of him, Amelie creaks open the door to the master bedroom, letting her siblings flood in behind her. They try to conceal their giggles and keep quiet but it doesn’t last, and soon they’re racing up to Hux’s bedside to wake him.

Thankfully, the children don’t jump on top of Hux in their excitement—considering the state of his pregnancy, that’s for the best. But they do softly pat at his body until he rouses and props himself up on one elbow, lips bowed in a befuddled frown. With a little bit of effort Hux manages to sit up all the way, the pieces clicking into place inside the emperor’s still-sleepy mind once he sees Kylo with breakfast. Then, he smiles softly, brushing the loose hair off his forehead and behind one ear.

“My. What’s all this?” Hux rests his hand on his belly as he carefully shifts to allow the children some room to crawl up onto the bed with him. They jostle a little bit, each wanting to be as close to him as possible, though they keep mindful of his belly.

“We made you breakfast!” Aeon declares, snuggling up next to her twin, who’s quickly latched onto their mother’s side.

“Really. How did you all manage that?” Hux raises his eyebrow in Kylo’s direction as he sets the steaming plate down on the nightstand and hands his mate the cup of tea.

“I might have helped a little bit, but you should’ve seen them. Working together better than ever before.” Kylo leans in to kiss Hux on the temple as the emperor tilts his chin back. Amelie sticks out her tongue in faux disgust, prompting Kylo to plant another one right on his lips.

“I’m pleasantly surprised at that,” Hux murmurs when Kylo pulls away, keeping a hand calmly rubbing his belly as he brings the cup to his mouth, blowing lightly on the steaming surface. “And no mess? No catastrophes?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Kylo downplays, sitting at the meager bit of space left at the edge of the bed. His mate doesn’t need to know the full extent of the chaos.

“Wonderful. I’m very proud of you all,” Hux says before sipping his tea, a pleasant smile casting over his face as it settles into his stomach. The children titter happily, and as Kylo switches Hux’s teacup for the platter full of food, all four immediately begin to point out which part of the meal they contributed to. Hux nods along as he slices into the omelette, sure to praise both Aeon and Leander for their egg cracking talents and Amelie and Sylmar for their exquisite knife cuts.

Kylo rubs his hand gently along Hux’s thigh, watching the children cuddle with his mate as he idly listens to their conversations. Eventually his eyes fall to the emperor’s belly, already considerably rounded with their growing child. There’s only a handful of months left until they meet the newest addition to the family, and he’s growing antsy. He can already sense sparks of their life in the Force, that flourishing potential already exciting him as much as it worries him.

“I assure you, the Empire has no intention of deceiving its allies, so long as the terms of any agreement are adhered to—“

“Maybe there are others you should bring in to speak with us, Emperor Hux?” The golden-furred dignitary to his right speaks, leaning his chin forward on a paw-like hand. “It may help to move things along if we were to conference with someone who better understands our kind.”

Hux opens his mouth to reply, perhaps covertly reprimand the Celanite for his disrespect just to release a little of his own frustration, when the door to the meeting room suddenly bangs open, followed by a loud, distraught wail of:

“Mummy!”

Each of the Celanites grunt in unison, their ears perking up at the abrupt noise. Hux whirls around in his seat, eyes immediately trained on the little child now toddling in through the swinging door, scent and voice immediately recognizable to the emperor It’s Leander, one of his middle children, dressed in his napping robes and squeezing a pale yellow blanket tight to his chest. His reddish hair is a mess, as is his face—puffy, streaked with tears.

The two guards that’d been ordered to watch the door peer sheepishly into the meeting room, clearly apprehensive of laying a hand on one of the imperial children. And while Hux doesn’t want them manhandling any of his pups under any circumstances, he almost wishes they’d done more to stop Leander, as this truly is the worst time his son could’ve picked to intrude on his work.

“Mummy, I—I had a nightmare!” Leander hiccups as he makes a beeline towards Hux, not paying attention to anyone or anything else in the room. He nearly trips on the hem of his pajamas, causing Hux to rise from his chair. He apologizes quickly to the Celanites, noting the exasperation on their faces but choosing not to comment on it yet. He bends his knees, red underside of his cape sweeping against the carpet as he lays a hand on his son’s quaking shoulder.

“Leander,” Hux murmurs, keeping his voice low, “Mum’s very busy right now. Why didn’t you go to papa, or one of your siblings if you had an nightmare?”

“Papa is busy with his training, and I—I wanted you,” Leander’s words crumple and he lets out another upset wail, scrubbing at his face with the end of his blanket. Hux sighs, rubbing his thumb beneath one of his son’s weepy eyes. He can feel the eyes of the Celanites bore into his back, hear their dismissive scoffs, more of that debasing word.

“I won’t be much longer,” Hux lies, trying to get his son to calm down enough for the guards to lead him back to their private quarters, “it was only a nightmare. I need for you to stop crying and wait until I’m finished.”

“B-But…” Leander starts, one of his little hands now tugging on Hux’s sleeve. The emperor purses his lips, ready to dislodge his fingers and shoo him away. He knows it’s harsh, but he’s at his wits ends with the Celanites and the sudden appearance of Leander, when these emissaries are already dismissing him for mothering children, only agitates him further. But as his son sobs and looks up at him, brown eyes dark and swimming with tears, so clearly scared and in need of help and love, Hux reconsiders.

A memory plays in his mind—a lonely child, the brief glimpse of a man dressed pompously and conversing with others in similar garb before a door closes with a thunderous slam, a bone-deep sense of loneliness and anger. Hux suddenly softens, and instead of sending Leander off he gets down on his knees and opens his arms, letting his son fall into a tight hug.

“There there, dearest,” Hux cradles him close, letting Leander rest his head against his shoulder and even rub his sniffling nose against one of his epaulettes. “Shh. You’ll be alright.”

Hux holds him for a moment, rubbing his back, before he rises to his feet with his son in his arms.

“Forgive the interruption, there won’t be any more going forward,” He states as he moves to sit back in the chair, but the head of the Celanite dignitaries raises a hirsute brow at that, now not even making the polite effort to conceal his antipathy.

“You expect negotiation to continue when you’ve a child at your breast?” He barks, derisive. “If you think of us so lowly, emperor, then maybe our trade route would better serve another sovereignty altogether.”

Leander whines and curls into Hux, the gruff voices upsetting him. The emperor bristles and narrows his eyes at the dignitary, the last of his thinned patience vanishing like smoke.

“Perhaps you’re correct,” Hux says icily, cupping one hand over the back of his son’s head. “I would not wish to continue holding negotiations for a minute longer with thick-headed, hierarchical beasts such as yourselves.”

The gold-furred Celanite growls, the negotiation table clanking as he rises to his feet, but Hux stands firm. Behind him, he hears the guards at the door move into the room proper, flanking him, their blasters still resting in a neutral position for now.

“You will leave. If your entire emissary is not gone by the time I put my son to bed, I will call my husband to personally escort you all off the palace grounds.” Hux doesn’t bother to conceal the threat in his voice, no longer caring to salvage the Empire’s relationship with the Celanites. There are other ways to acquire the rock ivory needed for his armada. From races that were more agreeable, that didn’t underestimate his power and cruelty. That wouldn’t insult his children and his role as their mother to his face.

With that, Hux leaves the dignitaries in the hands of his guards, carefully supporting Leander as he walks through the hallways in the direction of his private quarters, mentally rescheduling the rest of his day to leave it free. The boy sniffles right in Hux’s ear, raising his head slightly.

“Mummy…I’m sorry…” His little hand grips tighter into the emperor’s regalia. “I shouldn’t…I get s-so scared…”

“Hush, dearest.” Hux turns his head slightly to kiss into his son’s hair. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“T-Those guys sounded mad, and mean…”

“They were. Very mean.” Hux slows, taking a moment to shift Leander in his arms, so he can look his son in the eyes. “I would much rather spend the rest of my day with you, than them.”

Leander face lights up a little at that, his tears finally starting to dry up. “Really?”

“Of course. I’ll summon papa and we’ll take you and your brother and sisters out into the gardens to play. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Leander nods his hand shyly, a little smile fluttering to his lips. Hux quickly matches it with one of his own, and leans in to kiss his son on his little rounded nose. It earns him a soft giggle that warms his heart.