Chapter 1: Absinthe Minded

Summary: Lord Ren's wayward behavior finally catches up to him as his parents issue him an ultimatum

[excerpt]: Although not physically painful, his scar was an emotional reminder of a time when he was naive and foolish, of when his heart had been broken by the disloyalty and cruel whims of a dark woman. They were bitter memories which he did his best to forget with drink, gambling and the pleasures of the flesh.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Advice is seldom welcome; and those who want it the most always like it the least

-Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield

xx

The time had long surpassed midnight. The majority of the patrons of the Elephant and Castle had already turned in for the night, although at least three of its occupants had decidedly different activities in mind.

An elegant woman stood in the center of the room, the smoothness of her alabaster skin a foil for the delicate flush which stained her cheeks. The silken fabric of her gown rustled softly as she made her way around the beautiful couple, setting a well-crafted glass on the table in front of them. The vessel's base was nipped and flared, designed for its transformative ritual. Its smooth form flickered in the candlelight, awaiting to unlock all of the drink's unabashed potencies as well as its whispered promises.

Lord Ren, Earl of Alderaan, frowned as he eyed the opaque bottle sitting alongside the glass. The chair in which he sat was too small for his tall frame, and he stretched his legs out in front of him as he felt them stiffen. The buckskin material of his skintight breeches hugged the length of his limbs, showcasing the definition of his muscular thighs before tapering into a pair of black leather boots. He leaned closer to the table as he inspected the liqueur, a mild distaste displayed on his strong features.

"Isabelle." His voice was deep with warning in that single word, his sensual lips set in a downturn. He had tasted the spirit once before, straight. It was unpalatable: too strong, the licorice flavor too bitter. He would have preferred a good fortified wine or French brandy, any day.

"Patience, My Lord," the woman smiled. "You did not enjoy it before as you took it neat. There is no good to come of drinking it in such a fashion unless you want to become sopping drunk." She laughed, the melodic sound slightly lessening his apprehension. "You have much to learn, mon cher."

She waved a delicate hand over the glass. "This preparation-La Louche-will liberate the essences of the absinthe, so sadly missing from your previous experience." She teased him as if scolding a child. "C'est dommage."

Isabelle took out a slotted spoon and set three sugar cubes on top over the intricately patterned metal cutouts, setting the lip of the handle over the rim of the glass. She poured the emerald liquid over it, filling the reservoir, the fluid now contained within its bulbous base.

"Pernod Fils. This bottle was given to me by Henri-Louis himself, in Pontarlier. It is the absolute finest in quality." She proceeded to drizzle stilled ice water over the sugar, the dissolved, sweetened liquid flowing downwards into the glass, causing the mixture's peridot hue to become opalescent and a milky greenish-white in color.

"Voilà. Now you shall experience the true power of Le Fée Verte." She leaned over to hand him the glass, exposing her bosom to his gaze in the process. Her breasts were framed in the low cut of her gown, her graceful neck and shoulders left scandalously bared. The tall male was tempted to forego the drink altogether to sample what lay below all those layers of silk.

"My Lord?" she persisted. She lifted her deep blue eyes, awaiting his assessment.

Kylo sniffed experimentally, his nostrils flaring. He sipped gingerly and was pleasantly surprised. The bitterness of the wormwood and the flavor of the anise were mellowed by tinges of lemon and fennel, sweetened and diluted by the sugar water. He began to feel a sense of clarity. He was well familiar with the effects of spirits to know that he was not feeling the typical sensations of being properly shot in the neck. Instead, it was if his perceptions were magnified, intensified. He felt the softness of the night air, breathed in the sharpness of the quiet sounds, and heard the muted colors of the objects around him.

He acknowledged his pleasure at his heightened sensibilities.

"You are truly amazing, my darling," he murmured seductively, bringing up his hand behind Isabelle's head and pulling her down for a kiss. She reciprocated his gesture, pressing her lips against his wicked mouth, tasting the anise and herbs on his tongue and the desire in his breath. Her hand trailed appreciatively over his broad chest, deftly undoing the fabric buttons of his waistcoat. Her practiced fingers came to rest at the hem of his jacket which rested on the angle of his hip, the pressure from her caress increasing his arousal. He felt a quick pang of loss as she stood to retrieve something from her reticule.

Kylo watched her appreciatively, her hips swaying sensually as she moved, her chestnut hair thick and lustrous as it caught the light. Although she was several years older than he, there was no other female who equaled her in his mind. Madame Isabelle de Montespan was witty and beautiful, charming and well-educated, with a fierce independent streak. It was whispered among polite society that she was descended from two of the most noble families in France, and rumored not so politely that her mother had also been a celebrated mistress of the French court.

Kylo could care less about rumors, he himself having been the subject of many, or the fact that England was currently involved in the Napoleonic Wars. Although much of the public may have looked down their noses at Isabelle and her bold ways, branding her a demimondaine, Isabelle knew and embraced who she was. She had taught Kylo many things during their time together about life, art and fashion, the importance of joie de vivre, and especially of les plaisirs de la chair. He adored her and she him in return, although they both knew that their relationship was one of friendship, respect, and the occasional fuck, rather than love. In fact, he knew that her heart belonged to another, although her love remained unrequited and his identity a mystery.

Ren felt another pair of feminine hands loosening his cravat and removing his vest. The woman seated on his right kissed the length of his throat while she sighed his name, her blonde ringlets tickling his cheek. She ran her fingers through his ebony hair, which fell forward across his face and curled down towards his shoulders. His mane was slightly longer and more exaggerated than what was considered fashionable, but it only served to enhance the angular planes of his visage and his raw beauty.

Kylo felt himself harden in response to her ministrations, propelled by the absinthe, the warmth of her mouth, and the feel of her soft, pliable body pressed against him. The deep neckline of her blue gown exposed her ample breasts far beyond the boundaries of decency, and he brought up his hands to cup them roughly, squeezing them as he felt her nipples harden under the material which clung tightly to every curve.

Lady Elizabeth Lewes let out a breathy moan. She enjoyed Kylo's touch, his hard physique, so different from the soft and portly body of her husband. She was merely twenty six years of age, having had the misfortune of becoming stuck in a loveless marriage with a man old enough to be her grandfather, imprisoned by her father's debts and his desperate need to maintain what was left of his lands and title. After providing Viscount Daniel Lewes with a male heir, Elizabeth had considered her wifely duties complete, and was only more than eager to share Kylo's bed while maintaining the outward appearance of the faithful and devoted wife.

It was an arrangement which Kylo preferred: no strings sex, with experienced women who did not harbor fanciful dreams of marriage. He had no need for a genteel green girl, naïve and chaste, her pretty head filled with needy emotions and her heart threatened by the possibility of dishonor. Widows and married women who were discreet and expected little in return with the exception of a good time and an occasional bauble or allowance for their efforts suited his needs perfectly.

Isabelle rejoined the pair, handing Lady Lewes a small bottle containing a dark, reddish-brown liquid. She hesitated for a moment as the younger woman reached out for it greedily.

"Elizabeth," she cautioned. "You are not using this too much or too often?"

The blonde made a moue. "Of course not, Isabelle." Her hands shook as she reached out, placing a dropperful into her glass. She had started taking laudanum after experiencing the discomfort brought on by childbirth, and quickly realized that it was effective in dulling not only the physical, but also the emotional pain in her life.

The bitterness of the medicine was tempered by the absinthe and the cinnamon and saffron which had been added to the tincture of opium. Elizabeth closed her eyes as she sipped the concoction, her pupils slowly becoming constricted and a mild euphoria overtaking her as she succumbed to its welcomed effects.

Kylo stood, drawing himself up fully, towering over the two women. He was feeling pleasantly foxed, the result of hours spent imbibing at Crockford's with Hux and the addition of the absinthe. He moved towards Isabelle, taking her practiced mouth into his as he splayed his hand against her back, pressing her against him as he leaned his hardness against the layers of her clothing.

Hux didn't know what he was missing. The ladies had expressed their eagerness for him to join them in their room. As always, however, the General had politely declined. He already had his fill of the choicest liquors and wines whilst he and Kylo were at the gaming hell, and after winning a considerable sum at Hazard, begged off the rest of the evening, citing the need for sleep. Kylo could have sworn seeing a flash of regret in Hux's eyes as he rebuffed their offer. He was currently stationed two doors down in the hostelry, retired for the night.

Hux. Always dependable, always responsible. Kylo sighed. One of these days he would like to see his best friend break free from his rigid restrictions and enjoy life.

Any further thoughts of Hux were pushed out of his mind as Isabelle divested Kylo of his linen shirt, pressing her mouth against his bared chest, tasting the scent and salt of his skin as she slowly licked down the hardness of his body to the trail of hair which peeked above the edge of his breeches. His trousers were tented from his arousal, and she inflamed him further by ghosting her lips around its shape, the heat and moisture from her breath causing him to push his hips forward, as if to chase after and beg for his capture.

Elizabeth's bow shaped lips were parted, coming in for a kiss from above as Isabelle worked her magic down below. He groaned from the pleasure of their mouths, running his tongue against the blonde's lower lip, his gentle nipping and tugging causing it to redden and swell further. Her fingers traced the outline of his nose, lingering against his cheek and coming to rest on the scar which slashed angrily across its prominence.

The scar may have marred the beauty of a lesser man, but for Lord Ren, it seemed to accentuate it, adding a hint of danger to the darkness and roughness of his appearance. He hissed slightly, grabbing Elizabeth's wrist tightly, a warning to stay away. Although not physically painful, his scar was an emotional reminder of a time when he was naive and foolish, of when his heart had been broken by the disloyalty and cruel whims of a dark woman. They were bitter memories which he did his best to forget with drink, gambling and the pleasures of the flesh.

The trio moved towards the bed. Isabelle sat on the edge of the horsehair mattress as Ren slipped the edge of her silk gown over her breasts. They were full and proud, freed from the confines of the material which now sat gathered at the high waist of the garment, pushing up the mounds of flesh obscenely in front of his face. He took a rosy nipple into his mouth, licking and suckling it with his tongue as she gave in to the pleasure, her head tilted back and blue eyes dilating. He moved his hand downwards, applying pressure in a circular motion to her quim, feeling the heat in response to his movements as she grew wet with her need for him.

Kylo's eyes darkened as he watched Elizabeth lean in and kiss the other woman, the image of a fine quality courtesan. She was emboldened by the alcohol and opium and the expressions of arousal in the air, baritone and alto and soprano mixing together in a symphony of pleasurable sighs. She exhaled slightly as she experienced the softness of another female's lips against hers for the first time. Isabelle encouraged her experimentation, letting her savor the sweet sensations and gentle warmth of her mouth, smiling slightly as the blonde let out a moan, her lips parting to take in Isabelle's tongue.

Ren stood, the fall-front and tightness of his breeches doing little to hide the size of his arousal as he walked behind the pair. He unclasped Elizabeth's overdress and lowered it to the floor, the muslin of her chemise exposing her pinkened skin and her hardened nipples beneath its gossamer material.

The remaining clothing was removed in a frenzy of activity, pants, boots, dresses and undergarments piled in a mass of linen, silks, lace and nettings onto the wooden floor. Kylo knelt and took his place between Isabelle's legs as he tasted her, inhaling her scent and feeling the heat and wetness of her desire increase in response to the pressure of his lips and the probing of his tongue. She brought her hips towards his mouth, a silent request that his tongue be plunged deeper. Her movements caused a rhythmic shifting of the bedding which grazed against his cock, the friction of the soft material rubbing against his sensitive skin, hardening him further.

His gaze took on a feral quality as Elizabeth moved to straddle Isabelle's face, her pendulous breasts swinging forward as she cried out in response to the brunette's pink tongue, which had snaked out to lick at her velvety folds. Isabelle's fingers reached for the softness of the golden curls, moving gently against the bud of tissue which laid buried underneath. Her actions elicited a gasp from the younger woman, causing her to lean forward on all fours as she sank down to ride the face below her.

He ached as he stood, repositioning himself to bring Isabelle's legs to his shoulders, her puss on full display. She lay with her thighs spread, the area between them wet and begging to be filled. Kylo lowered himself into her slowly and stilled for a second as she stiffened, eventually relaxing as she adjusted to the intrusion. He had been gifted in many ways physically, and despite the number of times they had been together, it still took her a while to accommodate to his length and size. Discomfort gave way to a fullness and pleasure, and she began to writhe against him, rolling her hips as he pumped into her warm, slicked walls.

Their feverishness increased, the room becoming warm with their efforts, the scent of their sex filling the air, the sensations distorted further by their night of drinking. Kylo's movements became fiercer and more uncontrolled as he began rutting into Isabelle, thoughts of gentleness abandoned as he concentrated on the feeling of her muscles tightening around him. His lust caused her to moan wantonly, the vibrations of her vocalizations and panting further stimulating the woman who was crouched above her as the blonde ground her pelvis against Isabelle's face, painting it in broad, wet strokes. Isabelle, knowing that Elizabeth was nearing her release, gently pressed her fingers against the puckered ring of tissue in the space between her buttocks. Never having experienced the sensation before, the blonde was filled with simultaneous feelings of filthiness and fullness and she came, crying as she fell forward, the juices from her release spilling between her legs and onto Isabelle's lips.

Elizabeth rolled over, her abdominal and pelvic muscles still clenching in the waves of her orgasm as Kylo readjusted his position quickly, coming to lie on top of Isabelle. He leaned down and licked her face, his long tongue lapping at the shine on her neck and chin before taking the brunette's mouth into his own. The two dark heads moved against one another, seeking and probing, their hips grinding against one another. Both were reaching a peak, and his breath hitched suddenly as he felt a warm mouth pressing against his balls. Elizabeth had moved in back of the two of them, tonguing his sac and entering Isabelle's second hole in the manner in which Isabelle had done to her just minutes before. Kylo and Isabelle came simultaneously, grunting and crying out from the sensations of their release, the steady movements of Elizabeth's tongue and fingers behind them.

~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~

Kylo awoke to the sounds of an animal screeching, a desperate caterwauling which roused him from his semi-formed dreams. He opened his eyes as the cries persisted, trying to adjust to the darkness and the unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up, bumping against Isabelle in the process, her back pressed up against the bed and eyes wide as she clutched the sheets in front of her.

She was staring at Elizabeth, her blonde curls haloing her face and naked form pale in the moonlight, eyes wild and limbs shaking as she ransacked the room, seeking the relief she so desperately needed. Just one drop, she seemed to beg, one drop to return to her opium induced bliss and to rid her of the nausea and pain she was currently experiencing. She was sweating, her agitation and anxiety palpable as she trembled. Kylo sprung out of bed, placing his arms around her to restrain her as she fought against him wildly.

"Bloody hell," he swore as she bit down on his forearm, drawing blood with the sharpness of her teeth. He could smell her fear as she thrashed against him, knocking them into the chairs which fell over and splintered on the floor. Elizabeth wailed again, and Kylo felt himself powerless against the strength of her withdrawal as he shouted to Isabelle.

"Damn it, Isabelle, where is the laudanum?"

Isabelle ran to search for the bottle, finally finding it wedged in the corner between the couch and the wall. The noise of their activities and Elizabeth's howls roused the other patrons as well as the innkeeper of the Elephant and Castle, and there was an angry knock on the door, a man's irate voice requesting to be let in.

"Everything's fine!" Kylo shouted, growling angrily as the knocking became more insistent. Elizabeth screamed for help, taking advantage of Kylo's momentary distraction to grab the bottle of Pernod Fils, throwing it in a poorly-aimed effort towards Kylo and shattering the glass against the wall.

The sound of a set of keys jangling against the door and Hux's warning of "Ren, we are coming in," were not enough to prepare the trio for the shocked faces which awaited them from the other side. Hux attempted to shield his eyes from the women's naked forms in a gentlemanly gesture. The innkeeper was apopletic upon seeing the destruction and debauchery: the green liquid pooling and staining the patterned rug amidst shards of broken glass; the delicate curves of the chairs transforming into jagged shards of mahogany and torn fabric; the compromise of a viscountess in flagrante delicto.

"We... . After the fire!" His ruddy face was turning a shade of crimson.

Ren remained impassive, cock-sure and unrepentant despite the fact that he stood naked, his plug tail and tallywags visible for all to see.

"Not to worry, good sir. I am sure that Lord Ren will pay you a round sum to compensate for the damages and your inconvenience." Hux placed his hand on the innkeeper's shoulders, attempting to assuage his anger.

At that moment, Lady Elizabeth Lewes felt the sweating increase as a suffocating sensation caused her stomach to heave. She proceeded to retch, the stench of her vomit filling the room and staining her skin as it dribbled onto the ground.

The innkeeper's face was now five shades darker. He could barely take in enough air to spit out the words as he shouted, the staccatoed sounds drawing additional curious gawkers into the hallway.

"God's teeth! I care not a whit as to your name or your title! Take you and your baggage, and get out of my establishment this instant!" He slammed the door forcefully to reinforce the finality of his decision.

Ren snatched the bottle of laudanum from Isabelle's shocked hands as he strode to retrieve his clothing, throwing it at Elizabeth's quivering form as he passed her in disgust.

~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~

Kylo's hand rested lightly against the teal-colored wrought iron fence as he ascended the steps of his family's London townhouse. He hesitated as he reached the door. It was centered between two pilasters, its red color contrasting with the clean hues of the Portland stone which surfaced the outside of the residence. The home presented itself in a uniformed and orderly manner, so very different from the turmoil which raged within him.

He lifted the knocker and rapped it against the brass lion's head. A familiar face greeted him as the door opened.

"Good afternoon, Daniels. It is good to see you again."

The middle-aged male returned his greeting, his voice exuding propriety and competence in its dulcet tones. "It is good to see you as well, Mister Kylo."

A handsome first footman stood by his side, his dark skin contrasting with the blue and white of his full morning livery. He took Kylo's gloves and top hat as Kylo entered the foyer, the heels of his shoes echoing against the black and white marble floor.

"Finn," Kylo acknowledged, with a nod of his head.

"Your parents are just finishing their luncheon. Would you care to join them?"

"No, thank you, Daniels. I shall be in the study when they are finished."

"I will let the Marquess and Marchioness know that you have arrived, Mister Kylo."

Kylo walked past the dining room where his parents sat, the hardwood floors contrasting with the richly colored walls. Crystal wall sconces and an elaborate chandelier provided light for the room in the dimmer hours of the day, while the china proudly displayed the family crest. He walked to the back of the home and into the study, where he had always felt more at home.

Kylo looked around the room, trailing his finger along the spines of the well-worn books lined neatly within their shelves. His breath hitched as he spied one hidden towards the back, its faded beige and orange cover doing little to protect the brittled pages underneath. He pulled it out, his hands shaking slightly as its creased binding fell open to an illustration which he knew by heart. Memories of a childhood friend, a sexual awakening, and the pain of a betrayal assaulted him as he closed the cover forcefully. He tucked the book back in its place before it could stir up additional emotions which he had worked so hard to suppress.

He sat back in the wingbacked chair, trying not to fidget as he awaited the arrival of his parents. He suddenly felt as if he were a ten year old, still wet behind the ears.

He stood as he heard their approaching footsteps. Lady Leia Organa-Solo and Han, Lord Organa-Solo, the Marquess and Marchioness of Alderaan, were still a beautifully handsome couple and respected members of the peerage. He kissed his mother on the cheek.

"Hello, Kylo." Leia's eyes were full of love, but there was also a sadness within their brown depths.

He tried to make a lighten the mood as he saw the seriousness in both of their countenances.

"I take it that you did not ask me over for afternoon tea, then?" What have I done now? he thought to himself. He stretched out his legs as he sat back down, adopting a careless look that belied the apprehension which was creeping up within him.

Lea frowned. "We received a most distressing message from Lord Lewes. It appears that the clod pates at The John Bull have been blackmailing him regarding a delicate matter involving Lady Lewes." Leia kept her eyes on Kylo, assessing his reaction, if any, to the news. "It was a matter of great indiscretion. Lord Lewes is beside himself, as you can well imagine."

Kylo held his tongue, not knowing how much his parents knew of the extent of Lady Lewes' said indiscretion.

Han sighed as Kylo remained silent. "Gambling, spending your nights ape-drunk and in the company of light-skirts. You won't be able to keep your name out of the scandal sheets forever, Kylo. Get your brains out of your ballocks, son."

Kylo's topaz eyes flashed dangerously. That was rich, coming from his father. Han was a well-known, notorious rakehell in the years before he finally settled down with Leia.

Leia spoke more gently, sensing her husband's hypocrisy. "You are our only son. You are destined to carry forward all the achievements of this family and with it, our reputation. You also have responsibilities in the House of Commons, where you will be dealing with many of your counterparts. Your counterparts whose wives you may have compromised in the past."

She continued, her tone more firm. "We want you to spend some time outside of London, away from all these temptations. You need to revisit your priorities, Kylo. Spend the time in the off-season to pull yourself together."

Kylo spoke slowly. "Well, it would be nice to leave London for awhile. Brighton would be a good alternative for the summer."

Leia shook her head. "And what would you hope to accomplish in Brighton? You would still be surrounded by plenty of opportunities for gambling, drink, and bachelor fare."

Han spoke. "We want you to go to Caserta Hall with us in the offseason. Perhaps in spending some time there, you will learn the implications of your behaviors on our country seat."

Kylo smirked insolently. "It's not as if I can be gamble Caserta Hall away."

Leia admonished him. "That is true, Kylo. However you must understand that the selfishness of your actions have implications not only on your reputation, but also on the finances of Caserta Hall. Your behavior directly impacts the tenants who live and work there. Their livelihoods and well-being lie within your hands."

There was some frustration in his tone as Han muttered under his breath. "Perhaps we are partly to blame. We have loosened the reins for too long, Leia, all because Ba-"

He couldn't finish as Kylo flushed, flying into a rage. He interrupted Han, respect for his father be damned.

"Don't you ever speak that name in my presence again!" His knuckles whitened under his clenched fists, the muscle under his scarred cheek twitching in anger.

Han flinched, his annoyance at Kylo's blatant rudeness tempered by his sadness at his son's state.

Leia's lips were set in a thin line, anger and disapproval in her tone. "Kylo Ren. Your father and I have made a decision. Use your time in Caserta Hall for introspection and atonement. If you cannot demonstrate that you will be a wise and responsible future Marquess, if you cannot show a willingness to maintain the respect of our family's name, you shall subsequently be disinherited of that title and all the properties associated with it."