#zultanekh is one migraine away from just bashing Djoseras over the head with a rock and taking him home

[ghostinthegallery]

@beril66, @utane, and @macgyvertape all asked for info about my WIP "My Big Fat Ithakan Wedding" (which really needs an actual title but I am bad at those) and I don't know how to explain this one without sounding like I need a cork board and some string but here we go:

Necrontyr AU where Szarekh actually heeded Orikan's warning, biotransference doesn't happen. Instead they ally with the Old Ones against the C'tan in exchange for medical technology. C'tan are pissed

Oltyx doesn't die as a teenager thanks to said medical advances (yay!)

None of this fixes the Ithakan royal family's issues (boo!)

Oltyx and Yenekh want to get married, Djoseras won't stop pointing out that this is a terrible idea, mostly because he does want Oltyx married off to someone actually worthy (in his mind) before Oltyx's constant arguments with their father lead to something bad (like idk, exile? murder? like that'd ever happen)

Yenekh decides to be an idiot about this. Luckily Unnas finds it hilarious and nobody dies (yet)

Hemiun (yeah that fuckers back) "helpfully" suggests that the incredibly delicate peace between the Ogdobekh and Ithakas could be totally fixed by a political marriage between (for example) their crown prince and Unnas' shitty second son (because obviously you can't marry off your heir, sorry Djoseras)

Poor Zultanekh is also here and just wants to get in Djoseras' incredibly tightly laced pants

Nobody is capable of being even a little bit normal about any of this

I don't have much written yet (and I'm working on entirely different fucked up, necrontyr, arranged marriage situation) but here's a short excerpt:

The liquor was distilled from golden wheat, grown on a planet Zultanekh had tried to take from him nearly seven years ago. Djoseras rarely touched it, saying it burned his throat. The uptight kynazh barely drank wine that wasn’t watered down. Today he didn’t even find a glass, instead electing to take a swig straight from the bottle. He gasped and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have offered you some.” “No need, my friend, no need.” Zultanekh almost crossed the carpeted floor to place a hand on Djoseras’ shoulder. But Djoseras often tensed when Zultanekh tried to touch him. He refrained, no matter how tempting the idea became. Djoseras released a long sigh. “It’s Oltyx.” “Ah.” That made sense. There were few things in the world that Djoseras cared enough about to provoke such a strong reaction. “What has befallen the younger kynazh?” “Nothing the fool didn’t bring upon himself.” Djoseras pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is going to turn into a mess, I just know it.” Zultanekh folded his massive arms and waited for an explanation. Djoseras often paused before he spoke, forming what he considered the best words before opening his mouth. “Oltyx was caught in a…compromising position,” he said. “With some fringe house scion. A servant saw them. A servant! I managed to find them and buy their silence, but I am not optimistic that they did not spread the word before our conversation. This rumor is going to spread and if it reaches our father…” He winced.  “Dear Djoseras.” Zultanekh felt a twinge of guilt as he tried and failed to suppress a chuckle. “Is this really such a crisis? Is your brother not young? Did he not narrowly escape a slow and tragic death? Is it any wonder he possesses more passion than sense?”