Love In The Name of Power

"If 'ifs' and 'buts' were sticks and nuts we'd all have a merry Christmas." Victor huffs getting up in Lazus face. "I'm never wrong. " he feels insulted by the idea of being wrong.

"Heh... Victor, were getting a bit of a crowd." Worries Lazu. His ears flick down. He notices quickly that Victor is now in proper reach. He pulls him into another kiss.

"Mm!" Victor pulls away too quickly for Lazus liking, "You little rascal..."

"That's not a very nice thing to call your husband"

"It is a term of endearment. Take it" Victor growls. "... I hate what you do to me." He mumbles.

"Do what?"

"Nothing. Come on. Let's do our silly outfit changes and go dance." Victor escapes that awkward interaction. He unbuttons his collar and fans himself with the fabric. He cannot believe he is sweating. Not to mention the annoying thing in his pants growing bigger than his ego.

Victor wants to scream. How dare he be genuinely attracted to this stupid catboy! This is absolutely absurd. He went into this with a sense of loathing and suddenly he can't keep it in his pants. Surely there must be some medical magic going on. It's just stress, he lies to himself tossing his garb off and chugging a full glass of wine. The staff gives him a look.

"Well what are you gawking at! Get back to work!" Victor snaps. He's really losing it this time isn't he. "Fucking WHY?" he pleads to whatever higher power watches over him. There is no response.

He dresses himself and returns to his husband (now in more reasonable clothing). "Shall we dance?"

Lazu takes Victors hand. "Are you alright? You look uhm, what's the word frazzled?"

"That wasn't in imperial at all." The two waltz smoothly despite not paying attention to the dance at hand.

"Upset? Confused?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm simply not a good dancer." Victor lies. Fuck hes perceptive too. What is he going to do? Surrender and love the man? Why that'd be inconceivable!

"You haven't stepped on my foot. I think you're quite good"

"A savant like me has high standards. It's not often I find myself anything short of excellence."

"Well your excellency" Lazu does a courtesy as a joke "I'm glad to hear I'll be bedded by a man of such talent. I'll have my expectations high."

"I've done my research" this interaction is the worst kind of hell. His ego won't let him admit he has no clue what to do in terms of courting.

"Oh but you've never actually done it?" Lazu laughs.

"No- have you?" Victor sputters his face turning red.

"I'm a virgin. That's part of the deal."

"Right" oh thank the stars this cat is just as clueless as he is. The awkwardness sets in after the third dance rotation. The proximity to Lazu is distracting. Victor hates it. How can he think clearly when his husband looks like THAT. Lazu smiles, nuzzling the man's chest. "I'm tired of dancing." Victor blurts out quickly and abruptly.

"So soon? Does that say something about your endurance?" Lazu teases.

"Look here Mr. Pretty boy, you wanna know what it says about my endurance?" Victors whispers shift into shouts "It says I NEED A FUCKING DRINK!" he's up in Lazus face again. He sees his racket has caught everyone's attention which only makes matters worse.

"Carry on already!" Victor huffs turning around pulling his cape behind him making a B-line for the refreshments table. He leaves Lazu behind on the dance floor, confused and blinking.

Lazu continues to stand there looking sad while the ball continues, as that's the proper cinematic thing to do. Victor glances back and immediately nopes out in favor of slamming another glass of wine down his throat-hole. He is not drunk enough for this. This must be fixed. All feelings must be numbed IMMEDIATELY.

Lazu eventually walks over. He thinks he may have gone too far. "I was joking back there, I'm sorry." He rubs his spouse's back. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"I fucking hate parties." Victor grumbles "I'm tired of putting on a public face, I'm tired of the fancy clothes and the propriety." Victor slumps. "Why must this event be eight hours?" The grown man whines in defeat.

"Is there anywhere we could go and take a break?"

"And what? leave my own wedding?"

"You don't seem much interested in it"

"Aren't you the one who wanted to get married? Big wedding. Fancy outfits, the whole shabbang?" Victor takes the suggestion and leaves to an empty hall with a large window. He slumps on the wall looking out at the sky.

"I am. Truly I wanted more time to get to know you before, y'know... it's time" he sits down next to Novikov, resting his head on his shoulder.

Victor tenses. He doesn't like that. He knows he's not making a great impression. "I don't want to be known. " Victor pauses "If you were to dig too deep...you wont like what you find. And oh- dear I said it out loud. You're pretty, it hurts when you prod even when it's a joke and I still can't figure out why I CARE. " Victor breaks into a series of drunken sobs.

Lazu rubs the man's shoulder "Oh Victor, were married. It's natural to care about these things. It's what you're supposed to do."

"This wasn't a part of the plan. This was supposed to be business only. I wasn't expecting to have feelings. I never have feelings. Feelings are irrational and inefficient and I hate it. I hate it so much. " Victor's guard is completely down like this. Far too drunk to think about the repercussions of his words.

Lazu blinks. He came in with an open mind. Nothing could have prepared him for this. To Lazu, his husband's confessions don't make much sense. He doesn't know what to think of it, nor can he figure out why Victor would go into a marriage without feelings. Lazu brushes this off out of concern for Victor overall. What hot mess did he just get hitched to?

A half hour later Victor calms down and sobers up. They return to the wedding just in time for the feast.

After three more rotations of dancing the sun sets in the distance. A short recess is called before the royal feast. The two lovers change into lighter, more comfortable dinnerware.

The room is filled with candles and circular tables. The only exception being the royal table. Lazu and Victor sit on the long side facing the rest of the party dead center.

By the second remove Victor has sobered up completely. He eats politely chatting with Lazu's family.

"Thank you so much for all of this. I hope my son does you well." Lazu's father tips his glass in Victor's direction.

"I should be thanking you for allowing me to take the hand of such a radiant young man in marriage." Victor doesn't really think that highly of anything. Flattery for Novikov is merely a means to maintain a positive public face.

"If you don't mind me asking, why is it that half of the table is empty?" Lazu asks, flicking his tail.

"It's to remain visible to the people."

"And the two open chairs to your left?"

"Oh. That's nothing much. In elvish culture it's customary to reserve the two seats on either end of the table for the parents...and well, they remain reserved for those who have none."

"If it is of any comfort, I welcome you as a part of our family." Lazu's mother chimes in, gently tugging on the prince's ear. Lazu acts annoyed but appears to understand what he did wrong.

"Thank you." Victor wipes his eyes with a napkin.

Conversation drifts to small talk by the fourth remove. Lazu has had his fair share of wine out of what is apparently boredom.

Victor can't help but notice Lazu's clothes all night have gradually become more and more revealing. His hair visible at the dance and now his shoulders. Victor looks over to him and sees him shivering.

"No need to quake in fear. I don't bite... yet." Novikov leans over in a quiet voice.

"Hm?" Lazu rubs his shoulders drunkenly swaying in the underground breeze.

Victor furrows his brows. "If your teeth keep chattering like that you might catch a cold." He unfastens his outer cloak and drapes it over the other. It would be quite a waste to let such an instrumental piece of his plan die of something as simple as hypothermia or the common cold. Someone in the crowd lets out a soft 'awww~'.

The last remove is a simple shortcake. Chocolate would've been preferred however it is toxic to Marsu. It's moist yet bland. The Empire's range of sweet flavors is relatively limited.

The king and queen propose a toast to the kingdom and wish Lazu well. It's scripted and boring. The most interesting part to watch was the use of broken imperial language to deliver it. The room erupts with laughter when the word fiance gets pronounced by the queen as 'finance'.

Lazu himself seems to have decided that the foot between their chairs was too far. He stands up still shivering, stumbling over to his husband. Surely the only acceptable seating arrangement is one in which the Prince occupies the man's lap.

He practically trips into Victors lap. This does nothing but remind Victor how fucking PRETTY, the boy is. It's as if the stars themselves conspire against Victor in his quest to keep it in his pants.

With his face red the sovereign looks to his bride with concern. "Are you alright?" Victor pulls the prince closer wrapping the cloak around them both.

Lazu seems a little distracted, his hands wandering to cup his partner's crotch. " Oh... that's what's poking. Mmmk sorry."

"Yes. I'd appreciate saving that for last." Victor grabs the prince's wrist, gently removing his hands from his little problem. Novikov huffs in amusement, "Are you feeling alright?"

Lazu buries his face in his husband's chest. "I don't want to make a scene..." he mumbles, his breath heavy.

"What is it that ails you?"

"My skin burns, my bones are cold, the room is spinning..." the prince explains as Victor puts his hand to the man's chest. His heart is racing.

Victor looks over to the various glasses Lazu had been drinking from and snaps his fingers. Suddenly puffs of colored smoke burst from the prince's three glasses. Two pink, one green. Victor's heart stops. His stomach twists with emotional pain.

The crowd gasps. It's not often they get to see Sir Victor actually do magic. The man stands up and announces, "The prince has been poisoned." Victor paces "not only poisoned but drugged... you!" He points to a servant who cowers in fear.

"Bring me my medical bag" he demands as the king and queen of Dune stand in shock. The servant is gone in an instant. Novikov turns back around to his in-laws, "what exactly did you put in his drink?"

"A love potion, just a drop!" His mother defends.

His father mumbles "I put a fertility powder."

"Common aphrodisiacs. That explains the pink...I don't know who poisoned his drink, but I'll have you know I will find you and you will not live to tell the tale."

The servant returns with a bag and Victor gets to work stirring up the generic activated charcoal. It wipes most everything out of a person's system and is the go to for any unknown poisoning. He holds the glass to Lazu's mouth and helps him drink.

"This party is OVER! If you are not staff or visiting royalty I implore you to return home before my guards drop kick you there."

Lazu reaches out for his husband weakly. Novikov scoops the boy up wrapped in his cloak and carries him to a room lined with books and a fireplace. The fainting couch is pushed closer to the flame. He lays the prince down gently, bringing a blanket and laying by his side.

"This isn't going to be a pleasant experience for you, love, and for that I apologize."

"Am I going to die?"

"No." Victor pulls him closer, "not under my care."

Lazu's vision fades to black.

The next morning Lazu wakes up and vomits immediately onto the marble floor. The contents of his stomach are black and oddly solid. What the hell did he eat last night?

Oh. Right. He was poisoned.

He jogs down the hall looking for his husband...? They haven't consummated the marriage yet so it's not technically official. Lazu recoils at the thought of the deal being called off because of a delayed consummation ceremony thing. His legs feel like jelly and his lungs burn. Lazu is not used to this altitude at all. He leans on the doorway to the council to catch his breath.

Victors face lights up from the other side of the room. He stands, excusing himself from discussion. "Lazu! You're awake. How are you feeling?" Victor rushes over to the prince.

"Weak" Lazu stumbles into Victors' arms. He's relieved to see that the marriage isn't called off.

"I bet. All of the drugs were quite potent. I was expecting you to be out for another two days at least." He smiles "I'm glad to see you survived."

"Mhm. Why did you leave me?" Lazu pullThe prince throws his legs over the edge of the fainting couch and sits up. The room is lined with books. In the center is a desk covered in a mess of papers and wax seals.

Lazu has no idea where he is. He looks around frantically. Wasn't Victor with him when he passed out?

He stands up and finds the room is spinning. He struggles to the door only to find it will not open with a push or pull. It is made of solid rock and has no hinges. Who designed this and why?

Is this even a door?

The more Lazu contemplates the door the more he begins to think it may in fact actually be a wall. One could say 'Go home Lazu, you're drunk,' but that would imply that this Marsu knows how doors work.

Maybe it's a magic door? There's no tiles to explain how to use magic items here in the empire. Lazu wishes he'd paid better attention in his lessons.

Let's see, magic is a favor from a god. Lazu's patron God is Sol. Sol liked food? Or was that Marina? No it has to be Sol because she's the one who's fertility spell translates to "I'd like to put a baby in the oven". Lazu only remembers this because he thought it was the funniest thing when he was younger.

Lazu ponders and tries to open the door magically "Unlock the kitchen...please?". There is no response. Lazu looks around the room.

Oh. Right, there's no windows underground. Sol can't touch what has never seen the light of day. Lazu is going to be on his own in most rooms of the Castle.

He knocks on the door and the rough texture skins a small portion of the fur on his hands. The door opens, rolling to the side.

A nurse walks in. "Sir Victor sent me to check-" before the nurse can finish the prince has already slipped past her.

s the other man gently into a kiss.

Victor laughs and pulls away "I can't stay in there for days on end. I have work to do with the council."

"Days? That's not too long-"

"Alas, the world up here does not revolve around you as it did in Dune. This kingdom is not your own. "

"Oh. Of course." Lazu bites his lip.

"Your Father is still here if you'd like to wait with him until it's time for... you know."

Father stayed. Oh thank Sol. "Can I not stay here with you?"

"Council meetings are a private affair." Victor kisses the top of his head "It would be rude to leave your Father waiting."

Lazu pulls the man in for one last hug out of wedlock, "I love you".

"I cannot reciprocate. I'm waiting until marriage" the man smiles.

"Aha, bed, the one place you won't conquer." Lazu rolls his eyes and starts walking. He leaves Victor to pick his jaw off the floor in silence.

The king to be flushes, and turns around. How dare he imply such a thing and look so pretty while doing it. If he keeps being so clever with his innuendo Victor might actually fall in love. What a fool that would make him. To have no more restraint than a wild animal and just fall in love willy-nilly. Why that would be madness!

Victor refuses to stoop that low. He will remain detached and kill the boy as soon as an heir has been secured. He is sure of it. If he spends any more time than that with the Prince he will fall prone to his charm, he can feel it.

"Drink this"

Lazu gives the glass a whiff and looks to his father. It smells like death. "is it poisoned? "

"No it's a fertility potion. " his father assures him.

"You mean the stuff that almost killed me?"

"I ran it by Victor, it should be fine."

Lazu pauses thinking about the connotations at hand, "Why is this about Victor? I don't want to drink it."

"You must." The mans guards ready up for...something. Lazu doesn't pay enough attention to the military code to know what.

"No." Lazu stands his ground. The guards hold him down.

"Come here" his father forced the liquid down his son's throat despite the boys protests.

"Why!?" He coughs. The drink tastes as bad as it smells. A maid offers him water and cake.

Lazu takes a bite of the cake and a swig of the water and sobs feeling betrayed. Drugged by his own father and sold off like livestock. What has his life come to? He's longed for marriage for years now but this isn't what he expected at all! Why did he volunteer for this?

"Papa I don't want to do this anymore. I want to go home!"

"Everything will be fine, Lazu" but the words do nothing to fight the feeling in his guts.

A bell chimes in the distance. It's almost time for consummation. "Please calm down. Your tears make the kingdom look bad..."

"The kingdom? What about me! What about my feelings?"

"Lazu please, you're a grown man. You need to stop thinking about yourself." assistants wrap him up in an ornate white robe, "think for the good of the people you serve." Silk and borderline see through it leaves little to the imagination.

"I'll have you know I was fine and more than willing to bed him until you drugged me!" Lazu complies but its clear on his face he is no longer thrilled about the experience. His bare foot claws tap on the marble as guards escort him to the chambers.

"Hush now. Everything will be fine. Just go in and lay down. Relax. There's no point in crying over what cannot be changed." His father gently nudges him into a small room. In it are two chairs and a large circular bed with silk sheets much like the ones at home. Topped with a fine treated wool comforter. It's threads soft to the touch like cotton, whilst still retaining the warmth of the sheep it was sheared from.

On one of the chairs sits one of his fathers attendants. He politely averts his eyes from the prince.

Lazu shivers and tucks himself into bed hoping to sleep off the sadness in the hour it takes his husband to arrive. Victor wouldn't drug him like that. He's too smart, and cute...

Meanwhile Victor is exhausted from dealing with the council. Nervous too, but his biggest concern is having the social energy to put on a good face for Lazu.

He opens the door to the chambers motioning for the additional council member to take a seat in the empty chair beside the fireplace.

Victor looks beyond the thin veil to see his bride asleep under the covers. He briefly considers kissing him but decides that would be in poor taste. It's best not to scare him yet. He smiles at the way the prince purrs in his sleep.

Victor sits on the edge of the bed and gently pulls at the covers. "Lazu." He coos.

"Mm?" The Marsu chirps, sitting up.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Oh." Lazu remembers his duty. His mouth goes dry.

"Oh indeed. It's time to consummate our marriage." Victor notices the look on Lazus face. Where there was once bright hope and enthusiasm, all life has been drained. Victor furrows his brows with worry. "Is something wrong my dear?"

"I've been drugged by my own people. Dressed up like a doll and sold by my own father..." Lazu rubs his eyes "I suppose I should've seen it coming, I just- I am a fool."

"I'm sorry they put you through that. To be tricked into submission is one thing. But to be robbed of your agency in matters you agreed to is awful." Victor pulls Lazu into his embrace. "It is a shame that promises be wrapped in glamor and deceit. I myself agreed to be king. Not a husband. What's done is done, it's up to us to make the best of it."