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emperorsfoot · 5 years ago

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The long and uncomfortably awaited royal wedding!

Hordak and Entrapta’s marriage.

...

He was still losing weight.

Over the last few days, Hec-Tor had lost a little over one kilogram of body mass. Enough weight that his wedding gown had to be taken in. His arms under his armor were thinner and he had to add padding to the inside to keep the exterior plating from rubbing uncomfortably with the extra space.

The gown was predominantly green, a pale lime green, with accents in white and gray. The colors of the House of Kur. They had to cinch it around the ribs and waist to adjust for the weight loss. The shift in fabric off setting the placement of the thigh-slits on the legs. The whole gown had to be altered. The tailors just barley managing to finish in time for the ceremony.

Hec-Tor slipped it on, feeling the soft fabric slide against his skin like it was meant to be there. Fitting like a glove over his shoulders and around his mid-section. Like he had been poured into it, rather than it being pulled over him. The slits on the thighs went up higher than Hec-Tor originally specified, showing more skin, and when he moved, the straps of his garters showed. The oversight was so much that it had to be deliberate. No Imperial tailor would make the mistake. The alteration had to be commanded by someone in a position to command. And it hadn’t been Hec-Tor, which meant Brother had ordered it.

Studying his reflection in the mirror, Hec-Tor had just finished selecting a pair of earrings when Horde Prime walked in. Unannounced and without invitation.

“Coming to check on me.” Hec-Tor growled at his brother. “Making sure I didn’t climb out a window with a rope made from bedsheets.”

The windows of the Imperial palace did not open.

“You didn’t run the first time.” Prime reminded him. “You did your duty then, you’ll do it now.”

Hec-Tor gave his reflection one final examination. Dangling earrings matching the decorative plugs in his neck ports, both in gold. Chains of gold strung between more plugs in the ports on his sides. Gown falling over his hips in a sensual drape, the slits provocatively showing his garters when he moved. He turned around to face his brother. “I will serve the Empire.”

“You are a good servant.” Prime nodded. He reached out a hand, lifting Hec-Tor’s chin. Tilting the younger man’s face one way, then the other. Examining the sharp angle of his cheek bones, the shape of his eyes, the set of his brows. The makeup accenting and complementing his best features, and downplaying or outright concealing his less appealing ones. He looked rather attractive by their family’s standards. “You look like Par-is.”

Hec-Tor pulled out of his brother’s hand. “Are we allowed to say her name again?”

“No.” Prime deadpanned. Then cleared his throat. Backing up and averting his eyes, almost as if he didn’t want to look at Hec-Tor anymore. “If you’re done preening, I want to get this absurd ceremony over with.”

“You want your weapons.” Hec-Tor asserted. That’s all this was. A business transaction. Prime would give Entrapta all the resources she needed and in return she would furnish his vast space-faring military with weapons. Hec-Tor was just the notary stamp on the contract. “I want to get back to my regular schedule.”

He was sure his desk must be over-full of all the work that’d been piling up while he was forced to divert his time and attentions to this farce. All the items of business that Horde Prime delegated to him. Hec-Tor was sure his brother was not seeing to them himself. And since Hec-Tor did not have the opportunity to deal with them, things just were not getting done.

“You will adjust your schedule to your new environment.” Horde Prime announced cryptically. “You can still perform your usual duties from your new home.”

“New home?” Hec-Tor echoed.

Prime’s lip curled. “I have been told that Entrapta of Dryl can be… easily distracted. You will keep her on task and our arms manufacture on schedule.” A pause. “In addition to the responsibilities you already fulfill.”

“You’re banishing me to the other side of the universe!” This was the reason. This was why Entrapta seemed so sure that he and Imp would be living with her in the Crypto Castle. She had already worked it out with Prime ahead of time. Brother just decided to wait until the day of the wedding to tell him.

“Don’t be so melodramatic, brother.” Prime scoffed. “Banishment implies that you would never be allowed back. I’m simply deploying you as a strategic asset to protect our interests. You will oversee Dryl’s manufacture of arms for the Empire, and while you’re there, you will also sire a daughter with Entrapta. She will inherit the arms manufacture and when your daughter is old enough, you can come home for her wedding to Zed.”

“You’ve got everything all figured out.” Hec-Tor scoffed.

“I do.” Prime nodded. “And you would do well to perform your role without complaint.”

“Do I have any other options?”

“No. You don’t.”

Forcing his head high, Hec-Tor tried to step past his brother. “Then I have a wedding to get to.”

But Prime stopped him. One hand grabbing his shoulder, wrinkling the fabric draped over his armor. “You’re forgetting something.”

Hec-Tor turned back to glare at the other man. “What?”

“That.” Prime pointed to the silver band on the third finger of his left hand. Keldor’s ring. The only item of jewelry he was wearing that wasn’t gold. Silver against the gray-blue if his hands. “Take it off.”

Twisting the ring on his finger, Hec-Tor hesitated. “I-“

Prime held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

When he did not immediately comply, Prime grabbed his wrist and pulled the band from his finger.

Hec-Tor hissed when the metal scraped roughly against his skin, ungently pulling it over the knuckle. But the pain didn’t matter so much. That ring –and Imp- were the last things he had left of Keldor. “Give it back!”

“You are about to get a new ring, brother.” Prime reminded him. “You no longer need this one.”

“Please?” The younger man tried. “I won’t wear it. Just- let me keep it.”

Prime only glared back at him, unmoved.

“I’ll perform my duties diligently, like I always do.” Hec-Tor tried to bargain. “I’ll make sure Entrapta delivers on her end of the bargain, and I’ll run your Empire for you.”

Prime pocketed the ring. “Yes, brother, you will.”

…

Most cultures the universe over made vows of marriage and signed contracts of partnership on one version or another of an alter. Usually erected in a place of worship, and overseen by a practitioner of that culture’s faith or mythical dogma.

The Empire was wide and diverse, and the capital city on Horde World did boast many houses of gods and places of worship. Almost as many as there were races in the universe.

But the Empire itself had no official religion. The Kur family did not believe in gods or demons, or practice any kind of spirituality or religion.

The wedding was held in the throne room.

Horde Prime sat atop his throne on the dais, looking down on a Justice of the Peace and an Imperial Attorney, the two that would be performing the ceremony in place of a priestess or similar religious figurehead.

Entrapta was dressed in a dark suit in a shade of eggplant purple, a striking contrast to Hec-Tor’s pale lime green. A white cravat tied around her throat, a bright violet gem pinning it in place. The tails of her coat flaring out in a bustle. Her trousers baggy around her legs, a very similar cut to the overalls she seemed to favor –except these were clean. She still wore her welding mask and her work gloves.

The Attorney held a datapad in her hands, reading the contract to the couple, making sure each one understood the terms that they were agreeing to. Then she pressed her thumb to a sensor on the pad, letting it read her print, signing the contract as legal and official. Then she passed it to the Justice.

Holding the datapad, the Justice gave the couple a moment to speak what passed for vows in Imperial weddings. The promises the couple would make to each other that were not influenced by the contract.

Entrapta went first. “I-“ Lowering her welding mask over her face, she hesitated. “I- I promise to be a good friend, as best I can. To try and understand you when I am confused, and learn what I don’t know, and… and to try and be the best partner I can be.”

As she said, Entrapta was not the most romantic person in the world. That was probably the most meaningful and emotionally true vow she could make.

Hec-Tor drew in a breath and offered the same vows he gave to Keldor. The words of marriage he’d been trained in since his boyhood. “I vow to shield your back and keep your council. And I will ask no service of you that will bring you dishonor.”

Catra stepped forward and passed Entrapta the ring meant for him. A gold band to match the rest of his gold jewelry. Plain and unadorned. A simple and practical band to be worn daily. She took it from Catra with her hair, not taking a single step closer to Hec-Tor or attempting to close the distance between them. She used the prehensile strands of her hair to slide the ring onto his finger.

A member of the Imperial wedding party, some loyal noble Prime had picked for the occatin, passed Hec-Tor the ring he was meant to give Entrapta. Also gold, to match the one she gave him. But of a slimmer design. A thinner band that wouldn’t be quite so bulky on her smaller hands. He did not get the chance to putit on her finger for her, however. Entrapta plucked it from his hands with her hair and brought it back to herself, slithering the ring under her glove where she presumably put it on the correct finger herself.

The Justice nodded and held out the datapad for each of them to sign in turn. Hec-Tor pressed his thumb to the sensor, letting it read his print and put his name on it. There was another pause for Entrapta. She had to remove one of her gloves, doing it slowly, one finger at a time. The removed her thumb from the pad the moment the sensor registered her print and added her name, slipping the glove back on her hand as if she were more afraid of her bare hand being exposed than she was of the marriage.

The Justice adder her own thumbprint next to where the Attorney had placed hers. Sealing it and making it official.

“You are married.” She announced. “You may kiss.”

Hec-Tor and Entrapta turned to each other. There was enough space between them than if their cultures believed in a ‘holy spirit’ it could fit comfortably between them.

“I- I guess we should…” Entrapta muttered.

“You will have to lift your mask.” Hec-Tor informed her.

She raised a tendril of hair and slid the welding mask up slowly. Revealing a face that was beet-red with a blush. Embarrassment and nerves. She chewed her bottom lip.

Hec-Tor took a step closer to her, to close the distance.

Entrapta looked away, but she did not lower the mask back down. She played with her hands. “I’m not very good at- -at kissing.”

Hec-Tor took a second step. They were close enough now. “I have had quite a bit of practice.”

She did not lift herself up on her hair to accommodate for their height difference.

So, Hec-Tor bent down. And placed a chase kiss to Entrapta’s cheek.

…

The reception was held out in the gardens. The bushes washed clean of dust from the storms, or just outright replaced if they were sandblasted to severely to be worth saving. The rows and beds were strung with lights. Green for the Empire, violet for Dryl. Music played in the central hub where all the garden paths conversed and the artificial pond had been drained and covered so that a dancefloor could be laid down in its place.

Hec-Tor and Entrapta were required to dance one dance together. The first dance. An entire song in which they were the only couple on the floor. Finally, when that song ended and a new one began, other couples joined them and they were able to slip off the dancefloor mostly unnoticed.

For a moment, the two just stood there. Off to the side. Unsure if they should remain together as a newly wed couple or separate and give themselves some time to mentally adjust to their new circumstance. At the very least, they would need to mentally adjust before… the night.

Then a screech distracted both of them and Imp came flying at Hec-Tor. Almost crashing into the man’s face. Imp clawed at the fabric of his father’s gown, climbing over his shoulder to cling koala-style to his back.

“Imp! What is-?” His question was answered before he even finished asking it.

Two of the maid staff the exclusively cared for the Imperial children, Imp and Zed, came running up. “Apologized, Your Highness, but he got away from us.”

Crawling up onto his father’s shoulder, Imp hissed at the two maids and made a rude gesture with his hands, telling them exactly where they could go. Seriously, where did he learn such unbecoming Signs? Hec-Tor decided that was a question for later and instead focused his attention on the maids. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We were trying to fix the young Prince’s appearance when he scratched at us and flew away.” They explained.

Hec-Tor turned his head, trying to glare at his child.

Imp fluttered around to be in front of his father as he explained, hands waving rabidly with his explanations that he didn’t like wearing makeup. It made his face feel funny. It was stupid. He was a Prince, he should have to get dressed-up and painted like a doll. And then some less than polite recommendations of where his keepers could shove all their cosmetic products. Yup. Imp was definitely, definitely Keldor’s child.

Hec-Tor sighed, examining his son. Imp had removed the shrug from his gown, and ripped at the hem to make it shorter. His shoulders were bare and his knees were exposed. Half the makeup was already rubbed off his face and what little was still on him was smeared so badly that he looked like an abstract painting.

Entrapta, whom stood next to Hec-Tor for this explanation and did not yet understand a single motion of Sign untied the cravat from her neck. “Oh, well we can fix Imp’s appearance right now!” She announced. Then, using her hair, wiped the remaining makeup off of him, leaving his face it’s natural uniform blue complexion. The same shade of blue as Keldor’s skin. “There. That’s better.”

She then tied the –now filthy- cravat back around her neck as if it didn’t even matter.

Imp chirped with appreciation. He liked this crazy off-worlder Dad had married. She was exactly his kind of crazy. Imp fluttered over to perch in her hair, raising his hands to Sign at his father. ‘Mine.’

Well, at least someone was happy about this marriage.

“That means he likes me, right?” Entrapta asked, unsure. As if she’s never met another sentient being before in her life and didn’t understand even the most obvious of gestures.

Hec-Tor massaged his forehead, smudging his own makeup just a little bit. He was beginning to feel an oncoming headache and needed to sit down.

“I shall deal with my son.” He dismissed the maids.

Entrapta lifted her mask, trying to tilt her head without dislodging Imp from his perch. “I guess this means you like me, huh.” She said. “You’re not afraid I’m trying to replace your other parent or anything?”

She asked this more as if it were something she read was a common occurrence and not something she was actually afraid of for herself.

Imp squawked a negative.

“Imp has no memories of Keldor.” Hec-Tor informed her. “He vanished before Imp’s gestation in the vitrine was complete.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.

A server passed by with a tray of adorably decorated mini-cupcakes. Entrapta stopped them and selected three for herself. Then grabbed a fourth for Imp. She lifted it up on a tendril of hair for him. Then paused, suddenly unsure. She looked up at Hec-Tor.

“Oh, is he allowed to have refined flour and sugar?”

Hec-Tor glared at the cupcake. “I will not be available to put him to bed tonight with the sugar makes him… difficult.” He informed her.

The reminder making them both feel awkward. They had a previous commitment later tonight that would prevent either of them from attending to any other responsibilities. Hec-Tor could not tuck his son in for the night and Entrapta could not… do whatever Entrapta usually did in the evenings before bed. They had to consummate their marriage. Consummate it in a ceremony that would have to be witnessed by the same Attorney and Justice that performed their wedding.

They avoided eye-contact. Entrapta lowered the cupcake, placing it and the three she selected for herself on the rim of a nearby herb bed. She suddenly lost her appetite. Hec-Tor clasped his hands behind his back, his posture going military stiff, trying to take comfort in familiar motions.

Hec-Tor nodded to the servant still holding the tray of cakes. “Some fresh fruit for my son instead.” He commanded. “Tartpears.”

The servant paused, suddenly looked uncomfortable. They stuttered when they had to inform the Prince, “There- there are no tartpears, Your Highness.”

“What?” Hec-Tor raised a baled brow at them.

“Be-because of the blight in Antares.” They explained. “They had to burn out all the crops to kill the disease. Even the seemingly healthy ones. We won’t get tartpear in the capital for at least another season.”

They waited for the Prince’s reaction with a tense silence, his bottom lip quivering.

Hec-Tor rubbed his forehead again. This time the headache was not threatening. It was beginning. The blight in Antares was one of the issues to pass his desk literally the day before this farce began. One of the issues he could have dealt with in the timely manner. One that did not involve burning down and destroying an entire season’s worth of the Empire’s food.

“Something native then.” He growled at the servant. “Cactus-grape.”

They all but ran away to fulfill the Prince’s request and get young Prince Imp some fresh fruit to eat in place of the cupcakes that contained refined flower and sugars.

A silence descended over them again.

“It’s just one night.” Entrapta said, repeating the same thing she said at breakfast when they had their first formal introductions.

“Brother will probably want to witness.” Hec-Tor informed her. “He watched me the first time.”

“’Me’? Not ‘us’?” She asked. Sex usually involved two people not just the one.

Hec-Tor closed his eyes, remembering how Brother leered down at him. He was looking at him, only him, not Keldor. Hec-Tor was sure of it. He grit his teeth, steeling himself against the memory and the knowledge that he was going to go through a repeat of the episode in the very near and foreseeable future. “As you said, it is only one night.”

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