Water filled his lungs, his ears, his nose, his mouth. He floated, still and achingly calm. The water cradled him like a newborn child. Another memory flickered in the back of his mind like the beginnings of some old, damaged film.

When he could breathe again, Hux found himself in an environment much different than the one before it.

P'lux grinned at him. It was a spine-chilling split of lips that revealed teeth just a little bit too white, a little bit too sharp. Hux took a step back and slipped into the body of his former self, as easily as one would shrug on an old suit that fit just right. It was clear by the line of his shoulders, the curled fists, the muscles that tensed beneath reddish-brown skin... P'lux was angry.

The old Hux had been cowering, but his posture changed as soon as the more experienced Hux took control. He straightened his back and returned P'lux's grin. They towered in front of each other, identical giants grinning like madmen.

"I'll kill you." Hux said. He had already lived the future P'lux could only guess at. He had already seen the fetch turned to nothing more than lifeless gore. He would beat the fetch into nothing. Transform him into blood and bone and death.

An older version of Hux might have been appalled at such a thought, but his anger had twisted him into this new more sinister version. Instead of cringing away from the imagery, he delighted at it. P'lux deserved that and more.

The fetch looked confused for a moment, he was obviously aware that something had changed but he wasn't sure what. The image of Hux that the skin-thief wore shuddered, rippled, like he wasn't sure who he was or who he was supposed to be anymore. Then P'lux took a step forward. Stabilized.

"You're a fool that knows nothing." He flicked his fingers in a dismissive motion and Hux felt the build-up of magic, a dead giveaway of P'lux's intentions. The dreamer resisted. He used his own magic to shield himself from the blast. He didn't move. Hell, he didn't blink.

P'lux was wrong, Hux knew much more than the fetch thought he did.

"Move." He said. He knew exactly which memory he'd fallen into. His escape attempt. He'd made it to the garden when P'lux had cornered him. It was the first time Hux had seen his doppleganger. The first time he'd become more aware of what had been going on outside of his prison. Before, P'lux had turned him back. He had punished him for disobeying Lady Adoelle's wish for him to remain within the court. He had described in detail Margaery's relapse. Her failing health. The chemo that stole the happiness from her eyes. The fetch's own coldness, directed not just at Hux's dying sister but her kids, too.

This time, it'd be different.

"I am a noble and you are a <********> fetch." Hux said darkly. "You will do as I command."

P'lux barked out a laugh, amused. His smile was too wide for his face.

"You're no noble." He said, sure of himself. "You'll be dead before you earn that title."

Hux's grin didn't falter. "Adoelle will die," he said. "And so will you."

He made an effort to move forward, after that, but he was submerged again. He flailed in the water that surrounded him, momentarily panicked by the unexpected withdrawal from the memory. Bubbles of oxygen escaped him, white hot stars exploded at the edge of his vision. His lungs ached, and then- just as before- he was somewhere else.

"W-why? Why me? What the ******** does any of this have to do with me?"

He was alone in the spire. Tears streamed down his face and glistened in the darkness of his beard.


tbc