hybrid_prince | For Garrrr

For Garrrr

They call it a gift when they bring it before the throne. Dorrek VIII, young emperor of the Skrull people, barely even bothered to pay any attention to the cloth covered box that was rolled up before the throne. These particular military leaders weren't much of ones that he cared for, and frankly while he was invested in the eventual journey to Earth and conquering it ~~as was his lofty and prophesied fate from long since before he was born~~, that didn't mean he cared too much about the recon team he had sent. They annoyed him, and sending them to a planet protected by 'heroes' had been meant as a punishment.

The 'gift' to get back into his good graces didn't seem likely to amuse him in any way. There was nothing intriguing about Earth. So the Emperor had ignored their simpering and scrapping before him. It was unbecoming of a Skrull to be anything other than strong and dominating warriors. Still, he cut off their rambling dialog and waved to one of his royal guard. K'lrt, ever the devoted servant, stepped forward and whipped the cloth off.

And Dorrek considered what was presented to him with a raised eyebrow. This, of course, was not what he'd been expected. He hadn't expected a living being.

"Where did you find it?" he asked in Skrull, continuing the conversation in his native tongue.

"It attempted to attack us," one of the generals, who was kneeling out of reach of the cage spoke. "It is more than it seems. Like Skrull, but not."

Intriguing. Dorrek gestured for the clear tank on wheels (with air holes of course), to be rolled closer. Let him better see this prize.

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Gar knew that trying to get Dorrek to see there was more than two options was impossible. He felt powerless as he had since he came here.

"Whatever," Gar mutters at the backhanded sort of compliment and insult that had been sent his way before the other went to leave. He didn't try to stop him this time. But he didn't think anything Dorrek could do would make anything better.

That's just not how people worked Skrull or Human. Maybe he wasn't the only one that was naive.

It will be weeks before the Emperor and the captive human will meet again, though one cannot deny that in that time the will of the Emperor will be felt around Gar. His rooms will be better kept, his food better quality, and no more sharp words or violence offered to Gar. Even those who would address him would speak only in English, saving Skrull for whispered tones behind his back. So, if nothing else, Dorrek had cracked down on the ones who were being cruel to Gar. Sure, there were still dark and disapproving looks, but few dared ignore the will of the Emperor long. There was even, as Dorrek had told Gar, a tutor sent to his rooms daily to offer lessons on Skrull history, culture and language. Whether Gar would partake in those, or not, was clearly left up to the human, with the instructor, a wise old woman, offering only when Gar was willing to receive.

And at last, one afternoon, there will finally be a guard knocking upon Gar's door, coming in the form of the old woman instructor, holding a letter on a silver tray.

"A message for you, from his Imperial Highness Dorrek the Eighth."

It was on the surface better but forcing people to be nicer and do their jobs right didn't really make Gar any happier if not just because he could tell that they resented him all the more for it. There were no longer ways to take out their dislike of him as there had been before.

But all the same he hadn't been completely opposed to the tutor. She was kindly and it didn't seem completely contrived and forced. So for if no other reason than he was lonely he had taken to the lessons.

It's a surprise when she showed up with a letter on a tray which seemed ridiculously fancy and he rolled his eyes just a little bit and didn't try to hide it from her as he took the letter to open up and read.

At least the old woman has a sense of humor, because when she saw him roll his eyes she snorted in amusement.

"Royals. They all get like that."

And the letter is very formal. In full Skrull language at the top, written in their runic form and further down, below that, a translation penned in English. A formal request from the Emperor for the pleasure of the company of Gar of Earth in the main hangar bay, which the bringer of the letter would escort him to, if and only if he agreed.

"It's annoying," Gar mutters and he rolls his eyes again at the formality of the letter. He still didn't really understand all the Skrull so he skimmed it before going to the English translation. He sighs.

"Do you know what he wants...?"

That being said, he'll go. It'd been a while since the last time they talked and despite the fact that Dorrek was his captor he somehow missed him which was definitely not a right thing to feel he knew that.

"No. I just have my instructions to offer to guide you. And the knowledge that two ships have been prepared."

Of vastly different sizes and capabilities. But she cannot assume what that means. But she tilts her head curiously at him.

"So, are you going or not? Because I've got better things to do than stick around if you're going to be silly," the woman says. Not unkindly. She's been quite patient with him. And that isn't about to change.

Gar frowns a little.

But denying the invitation kind of seemed impossible. There could be consequences. He couldn't help but worry about that and he was curious anyway... and still lonely.

Gar exhales at her and he's really grown pretty fond of her.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Can't really tell royalty no can you?"

Especially when you're still a prisoner gilded cage or not.

The old woman shrugs when Gar makes his observation.

“I was told if you said no then to go back to my work. And that your dinner would be at the usual time.”

Gar shook his head.

"I'm not saying no."

“Come along then. And keep up. Shame if a woman in her late 180s can move faster than a child,” the woman chides and she heads from the room at a brisk pace. Even old Skrull were fit when they needed to be.

Gar huffs and he follows her, crossing his arms as hey walk. Age is weird. 180s that's just crazy. Still he wishes he had more information about what was going on.

He ends up with a billion different hairbrained ideas each crazier than the last until they arrive.

It is no short walk to the hangar, and once there the place is clearly a den of activity. Two ships are being prepared, a small one that is clearly little more than a scout ship. The other is grand and has a lot more work going on around it.

And, just inside the door, Dorrek, in full imperial regalia. At his most Emperor.

When the old woman approaches she clears her throat, earning the attention of the far younger Skrull. Who turns to look at them with a stern face. Which softens slightly at Gar’s apparent presence. Relief might flicker over his eyes. Maybe. He won’t admit it.

Gar looks at all the commotion and he still doesn't really understand what's going on. He glances at the woman once more before Dorrek. He looks imposing, then again that's nothing new.

But it reminds Gar that he's definitely not someone you really say no to.

"What's going on?" he asks despite that.

“I must travel, to see one of our garden worlds. There are some issues I must handle in person. And so I offer you a choice, Gar. You have one hour to make it.”

And he still looks a bit soft, but considering.

“First: you might stay here. Ra’kish will continue to tutor you. I do not advise this one. You will be mostly alone, and that is not my wish for you. Or...”

He gestures to the small scout ship.

“That ship can carry you home. It will be a long, uncomfortable journey. You will be cloistered with some of my soldiers who have the task of watching you and your life on that world, to ensure our secret.”

It is a tiny ship, no doubt uncomfortable.

“Or... you can come with me. See some of the Skrull worlds. Learn more of us. Accompany me as a representative of humans and Earth. See what we can offer your people, and then return to your world with my message. As my voice from the Skrull.”

Gar looks at Dorrek like he had gone insane before he even got to the end of the options.

"Are you insane?" Gar questions because who gives that kind of choice and then only an hour to make it.

He works his jaw because the choices clearly all seem to be delivered in a way that's pushing him toward the obvious one. He knows what Dorrek wants him to choose and Dorrek had made sure that it'd be difficult to choose any of the others.

After all wasn't it a scouting mission that had ended up with far more than scouting being done? How could Gar trust any of his soldiers in that sort of situation. Still the chance to go home... he wanted to so badly.

But if he went home he'd have no further chances to try and get the stubborn alien to see any reason... What if he could...

And that's not to mention the part of him that would miss Dorrek if he couldn't see him again, his brow furrows. Something's not right with that thought but he couldn't really pin it down anymore why he shouldn't feel that way.

"Would I still be your prisoner?" he question, raising the wrist that had a gauntlet that kept him from shifting. He hadn't been able to roar and run for so long. It'd been just as terrible as anything else had been maybe a little more than anything other than the fact he missed his people.

“You would be the eyes of your people. You would be free, and in truth my guest. You...”

Ah, the wrist. Dorrek steps forward and reaches for it, taking Gar’s arm in one hand. He draws a careful symbol into the metal and the metal went not unlike liquid, flowing back from Gar’s wrist and folding into itself until it was a bangle bracelet.

“There,” he says as he takes it off. “Skrull heal fast, Gar. And my people will defend themselves if you attack. Your teeth and claws will do little against us.”

"Then really it was just you being an asshole keeping me from a part of myself all this time," Gar says a bit harshly. Still it felt... liberating to be free of the damned thing.

He still didn't know if he would believe he would be free. He wouldn't be free in any of the scenarios. Dorrek would still control him... Gar just gets to choose how, his own poison or whatever.

"I guess if I choose the latter then at least I can still try to change your mind."

“It was for your safety,” Dorrek counters. “Because has you attacked someone here as part of an escape attempt, they would have killed you.”

But Dorrek indeed looks shocked that Gar chose what he did.

“You could go home. You have said it is important.”

Gar just rolls his eyes at that. He probably shouldn't roll his eyes directly to Dorrek's face and yet.

"But trying to stop you is more important," he said quietly. Not even stop exactly he just wants him to try a different approach.

“Perhaps by the end you won’t wish to stop me?” Dorrek suggests, perhaps hopeful. “I can have people pack your room for you. Just tell me what you wish brought and it shall be. You join us as my guest. I wish you to be comfortable.”

"Don't count on that," Gar sighs and he doesn't think they'll ever see eye to eye but he has to try.

Gar shrugs a little. "There's really nothing there that's actually mine," he reminds him, nothing he'd really become attached to. "The clothes and books, I guess."

“Then they shall come with us,” Dorrek says, waving a nearby servant off to get them before gesturing first Gar to follow him. “Let me take you to the ship. You will be comfortable here. There are not many servants on a ship as this. We shall have to deal with ourselves.”

"Harder for you than me I imagine."

Yep, he thinks you're probably very spoiled.

Dorrek laughs and shakes his head.

“You would be wrong. My mother did not want me to not understand my people.”

He starts walking and clearly expects to be followed.

"Uh huh," Gar says and he rolls his eyes again and exhales as he does follow. He wonders if he's making a giant mistake in doing this. He could have gone home and yet he'd chosen this...

Somewhere in his brain he is making a Stockholm joke about himself.

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