hybrid_prince | Welcome To The Fold

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"We do it so they feel hope for the power their people can attain."

That was what Emperor Dorrek had been told when he was a teenaged prince and found himself expected to take the first member of his imperial harem. One person of each people of the empire, on the idea that some day he would choose his consort from among them, would sire a child and heir upon them. It was his duty, and the people's they ruled would know they were close to power through the subject who might one day rule next to him.

The problem with it all was that Dorrek found the whole thing repugnant. Most of those given to his 'imperial consorts' were women, which was a problem for him. Which made every instance of these moments in the court tiring. Here he sat, upon his throne, awaiting the presentation of the newest offerings for his harem. He would have to choose one to take into his family, someone he would no doubt eventually send back to the others, trying not to feel disgusted by the whole process.

"You are before his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Dorrek-Vell. Kneel before his splendor and know you are close to greatness," his herald calls out to the assembled and Dorrek tried not to yawn.

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Dorrek rolls his eyes.

"Earth is party of the Skrull Empire now. That is not going to change," Dorrek says with a sigh. But he can already see a problem here. This man could be a uniting figure here. No, more than that. This man might be taken out by the guards and imperial intelligence.

Dammit.

"I suppose we shall have a good period of time to try and convince me. And explain what Egypt is."

"And do I spend all that time on my knees?" Atem asks, a bit of his harsher attitude coming to the surface again.

Seriously? Dorrek tries not to glare at him. Instead he extends a hand toward Atem. And as he does so a change comes over him. Instead of stiff green skin it's soft and golden, and he looks for all intents and purposes purpose.

"Only when it is warranted."

Atem would say it's a fair question, considering everything. It's not like he's used to having to kneel to another at all. His pride has been wounded a thousand times over by this and more.

"How is it ever warranted?" Atem asks but he looks at the hand, at the way that it changed, his brows furrowing. Magic isn't a foreign concept to him but this is still something unknown to him. He takes his hand however and rises to his feet. He's much shorter than the other. He's very short for a human male at 5ft tall and lean muscled.

"Your name, Pharaoh of Egypt? Or shall I merely call you consort?" he asks.

Small. That isn't a problem for him of course. It is not hard to be smaller than him. And it may be more convenient in adapting the clothes normally prepared for female consorts to the newly chosen.

"Atem," he answers, resisting the urge to resist being called a consort. He'd just offered himself up willingly hadn't he. Still, it was humiliating.

"Can we move this discussion elsewhere now?" not in front of all these guards, in front of the other people that had been here for the emperor's inspection.

Technically Dorrek could not allow such things after the impertinence. But he needs this man out of sight and mind as soon as possible.

"Give the tailors an hour before they are sent to garb him,"
He notes before walking off, hand still holding Atems.

Atem's jaw stays tight as he's pulled by the hand. He has to walk quickly and his free hand is balled into a fist at his side.

He does behave, staying quiet and waiting to get wherever they are going. He knows the other doesn't want any more of a display in front of others.

They soon slip through a heavily guarded room and Dorrek slams the doors behind him. It's clearly his personal chambers for how lavishly they are appointed, and the view of the stars, and yes Earth itself, is breathtaking.

Dorrek doesn't seem to notice. He just sighs.

"You are welcome."

Atem tenses slightly at the slamming door but the area they stop in isn't crowded with guards and others. He presses his lips together, his gaze does turn to the view and an ache forms in his chest along side the burn of anger.

"What do you expect of me?"

"For you to not make enough of a scene such that my choices are sending you home to be assassinated or taking you into the harem to protect you," Dorrek hissed out before going to the nearby couch to collapse on it.

Without all the poise and presence of an emperor he looks... young. He looks young. Maybe eighteen or nineteen. But young and tired.

"Fucking hell I always knew coming back to Earth was going to be a whole fucking thing!"

“I didn’t ask you to protect me and no one asked you to come to earth,” Atem says, unsure of himself and the bravado he’s been fighting to hold is wavering. After all, he might be pharaoh but he’s still very young, freshly appointed and already through a war and now… this.

Now, home is taken over by others and he’s… a world away. Is this any better than his spirit being locked away in a puzzle for 5000 years?

“What did they do with the items I had when I was taken?” The puzzle is gone he knows but his ancient duel disk and the modern cards he had hold of… does he have anything left?

There’s a heavy sigh and he supposes it doesn’t matter but… it does.

“It doesn’t seem like you want me in your harem, though. Are you going to end up sending me away?”

"Yeah, I didn't ask to come here the first time or this time. Though I miss it. You can't get good pizza in space."

His accent shifts to something a hell of a lot more New York City. Meanwhile he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.

"I can ask after your things. They will be checked for dangerous tech or magic. And I can't. Not until I impress on you how fucking dangerous it would be for you to keep talking like you did. Last time one of the harem got like that... I'm pretty sure the dowager empress had her killed. My grandmother is... harsh is the nicest word."

Atem frowns. None of it really makes any sense to him. Why he’d come, why he’d been there before.

“I can’t be silent about the truth,” Atem murmurs, but he feels drained suddenly. He presses his lips together. “They did things to me with magic I didn’t understand. There’s more to being in your harem than protecting me. You get something too.”

"I won't force that," Dorrek insists, shaking his head. "I swear to you. I'm not..."

He can't admit that he's not really the power on the throne. That will just cause them both problems.

"They say the 'optics' of the Emperor bearing his own children would be bad. But I don't force people into my bed."

Atem looks away and it’s not the response he expected. He considers his options and desperately wishes his friends were here, any of them.

“I’ll allow it,” Atem says slowly. “But I want my things back. They’re useless against you but they have meaning to me.” He wants to go home but maybe he can do more for his people here.

Okay, 'I'll allow it' definitely doesn't make him any more comfortable with any of this.

"Like I said, I'll ask, and when security clears it then I'll see it comes to you."

Dorrek looks so tired now.

"Listen, Atem, you didn't sign up for this. Neither did I. I didn't exactly want to be emperor. I just wanted to live my life, enjoy college maybe in upstate New York, and make a life for myself. But I'm here now and that's about all I can do."

Atem’s arms cross and he moves closer to where the view is, staring at it. The loss feels so insurmountable. There’s too much for him to bear but he doesn’t have time for weakness. He keeps his head high.

“That is no way for an Emperor to talk. Are you going to allow yourself to be a pathetic pawn in someone else’s game?”

It would have been easy for Atem to do that. He’d been young and grieving when thrust into power with vipers all around in the guise of friends. “I will believe you will return my items. Use me to get your heirs and actually take responsibility for your position instead of acting like you’re merely a servant carrying out orders. Otherwise you’re not fit to lead.”

Seriously? Dorrek gets to his feet and moves to the pharaoh's side, looking annoyed.

"I'm sorry, but is the guy claiming to be a pharaoh when there hasn't been a pharaoh since Cleopatra really going to suggest he understands what is going on here?" he asks.

Because that is hard to believe.

"And no one wants the hybrid to rule if he doesn't fit their ideals of what a Skrull should be. You have no clue how this works."

“Cleopatra?” Atem looks confused. He sighs. “It’s complicated,” he says quietly. “You also wouldn’t understand.”

“How does it work then? My past doesn’t matter but the present does.”

Seriously? Seriously.

"Until a few years ago I was in high school in New York city before finding out I'm an alien prince. So I don't think there is much you can say that I won't get."

This was just beyond frustrating, because who was this guy to even claim that Dorrek wouldn't get it?

“I’m not from the present,” Atem sighs. He doesn’t think being in high school in New York really sets the other up for understanding. “5000 years of history isn’t really relevant to the current situation is it?”

He doesn’t want to share his past, at least not yet. It’s personal and it’s wrought with grief he’s still processing especially now pulled from his rest. He doesn’t know how it had happened that his time and place had gotten pulled into the same as the present but it had. The universe had a wicked sense of irony.

No, but New York sorta is rolling in super heroes, and there is so much Dorrek is not getting into. Though he's intrigued by the whole 5000 years of history comment.

"Not unless you have a lot of experience with politics."

Edited 2023-06-04 00:24 (UTC)

“A court is always full of politics,” atem says warily.

Yeah, he definitely noticed.

"Any clue just how a dead pharaoh is not only apparently alive, but ended up before me?" He asks as he moves to stand next to the smaller man. "Because it's pretty confusing to me."

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