Writerverse: Table of Doom - Hope
More I Prefer the Mind Control. This is quite a bit in the future from anything I've posted yet in this draft-thing. Enjoy!
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“I’ve been hearing the strangest rumors,” Xan murmurs, staring up at the sky with his hands folded in his lap. “But they can’t possibly be true.”
“If they can’t possibly be true, why do you seem so nervous about them?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as we sit on a bench in one of the Palace gardens. “And, uh, what are they?”
“It’s about...about which of us the Choosing Committee will pick to be the next leader of the Zimaran Empire once my fathers are gone,” he sighs. His voice sounds faraway, like it does when he’s talking about something he would rather not deal with.
“And...what exactly are these rumors saying?” I ask. My stomach twists because I have a good idea what Xan’s talking about.
“They’re saying that they’re going to choose me,” he says. He keeps looking at the sky.
Yeah, that’s what I suspected. I’ve heard those fucking rumors, too. More than Xan himself has, probably. Syra even told me she wanted Xan to be chosen as King -- and swore me to secrecy on pain of torture. She doesn’t think he will actually be picked, but she hopes he will. Since she’s scary as shit, of course I stayed quiet. Well, that and I also see no reason to freak Xan out.
I take a deep breath. Right now, I kinda want to reach out for Xan, but I don’t even know where we stand, not after all the bullshit we’ve been through. “But that’s not, you know, actually likely, is it?” I say.
His shoulders sag. “I don’t know, Dylan. I hope it’s not, but who can be sure? At first, I was certain Krun would be chosen, but, after all the things he’s done, some people are starting to doubt him. Ayli? She’s completely in love with Preston -- she wants to go to Earth with him and have a human wedding eventually. She won’t Soulbreak him. If Krun weren’t chosen, I always thought Ayli would be, just because she was more engaged in the political scene despite never fitting in socially...but then she met your roommate and realized something else was possible for her,” he says.
My stomach twists. “And, um, what are they saying about you?” I ask.
“They’re saying I don’t want to be King, which is very much true. But there are some who say I’m suitable anyway and even some who think that I should be chosen because I don’t want it,” he says, shaking his head. “Can you believe that?”
Actually, I can fucking see the logic behind that one. A guy who doesn’t want to be ruler is less likely to go crazy with power and stuff, right? Someone like Krun? He’s prime “evil dictator” material. Honestly, if I were in charge of picking from Xan and his siblings, I would fucking choose him. He would kill me if I did, but I would definitely pick Xan. I’m not gonna tell him that, though.
“It’s just stupid rumors, right?” I say, shifting on my seat.
“Just rumors...” Xan’s voice is even more fucking distant now. “Just rumors...it will be Krun, surely.” He nods and finally turns to look at me. “It will be.” His eyes are, like, begging me to make it true, as if I could. Or would.
I say nothing, both hoping he’s chosen because it would be better for Zimara and hoping he’s not because I don’t want to see him so fucking unhappy.
* * *
“Preston, could you stop, um, bouncing so fucking much?” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “This is a serious occasion.”
“I know that, Dylan. I know, I know. Ayli could be the next Queen. Of an entire interplanetary Empire.” He doesn’t stop bouncing on the balls of his feet. Preston’s radiating nervous energy as we stand in front of the mirror in my room, trying to get ready. Xan offered us some of the Palace beauty staff -- yes, those exist -- to help us get ready, but we declined. Now, looking at my stupid fucking messy hair, I regret that decision. Of course, Preston’s sandy blond hair is fucking perfect. It always is because he’s got magic powers or something.
Perfect or not, he smooths out his hair anyway. “Do you know what that would mean for us? Since we’re together? What would happen to me? Do you know? I don’t know.”
“You would, uh...be King eventually?” I say. I squint at the huge full-length mirror and try, again, to fix my fucking hair.
“Kind of. Maybe. We’re not going to do a Soulbreaking, so I don’t know if I would, legally. But I am her boyfriend, and...seriously can you imagine being a Queen’s boyfriend? It was wild enough when I found out she was the Princess. And what if we got married like humans do? I mean, I’m human,” he breathes. His face is flushed, and he needs to calm down.
I smooth out my fancy outfit, which at least looks better than my hair. It’s a black and silver suit, cut in the Zimaran style, which means it’s a hell of a lot more...obviously sexual than any human formalwear. I’ve got on a v-neck shirt, and the black pants with a silver stripe down the side are fucking tight. As is the matching jacket.
Preston’s suit is different, though -- he and Ayli apparently worked with a designer on it, and it looks so much more human. Since I know nothing about fashion, it seems just like a normal human suit to me -- complete with actual fucking tie -- only with silver pinstripes and a silvery collared shirt. He’s got on actual lace-up shoes. I have on skimpy sandal things.
Back on Earth, I never fucking enjoyed dressing up, but I like my sexy suit. My outfit, however? It’s fucking nothing compared to what the Broken wear, even on formal occasions. Submissive partners in officially committed Zimaran relationships dress like it, with seriously skimpy outfits. And actual fucking slave collars. It’s really kind of hot.
I see myself blush in the mirror when I start thinking about how I would look in one of those collars. What the fuck? Now isn’t the time, self.
Preston raises an eyebrow, while still fucking bouncing. “What’s with you? Why’re you blushing like that?”
“Nothing. No reason,” I mutter, hoping my fucking blush goes away. What, do you enjoy putting me in awkward situations? You do? Of course you do
The doorbell makes me leap about a hundred feet in the air. Who the hell could that be? Confused, I walk to the door, Preston following me. I check the little viewscreen whatsit next to the door -- it’s Xan. What the fuck is he doing here? He should be, like, preparing for the Choosing Ceremony.
I open the door and let him in. “What the fuck are you doing here, Xan?” I say.
Sighing, he sits down on the couch in my living room without saying anything. I sit down beside him and give him a “you better explain” look. Preston stands by the couch, clearly confused, too.
“Will you...stand beside me, just for today?” Xan murmurs, fear all over his face. “I know it’s usually romantic partners who stand together, but...I could use a friend.”
Wait, what? He wants me to what?
For the longest time, I sit there with my jaw hanging open. You don’t ask just anybody to “stand beside” you during a Choosing Ceremony.
“I don’t know know, Xan. Can’t you ask Jirrin?” I say, feeling his eyes burn into me.
“He’s back in the hospital -- he’s relapsing. They haven’t figured out what it is, exactly, but I know it’s Krun’s doing. Today, of all days...” he says. There are tears in his eyes, and I don’t fucking blame him.
Xan’s brother almost certainly tried to kill his best friend Jirrin. If anyone makes the connection, even in a hypothetical way, will Krun get the throne? Or is he definitely out of the running?
“I’m sorry, man,” I murmur. What else can I say?
“Yeah, me too,” Preston says. He no longer bounces.
“Please, Dylan? I...need somebody I trust to stand beside me,” Xan says.
Without thinking, I hug him tight. “I’ll -- stand beside you,” I say.
He trembles in my arms. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I...don’t think I could do this alone.”
“You don’t have to,” I say. Whatever has happened between us, we are still friends.
I’ll be there for him, even if I don’t know what to hope for. Xan looks so fucking scared of being chosen, but this planet needs him.
I think I need him, too.
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“I’ve been hearing the strangest rumors,” Xan murmurs, staring up at the sky with his hands folded in his lap. “But they can’t possibly be true.”
“If they can’t possibly be true, why do you seem so nervous about them?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as we sit on a bench in one of the Palace gardens. “And, uh, what are they?”
“It’s about...about which of us the Choosing Committee will pick to be the next leader of the Zimaran Empire once my fathers are gone,” he sighs. His voice sounds faraway, like it does when he’s talking about something he would rather not deal with.
“And...what exactly are these rumors saying?” I ask. My stomach twists because I have a good idea what Xan’s talking about.
“They’re saying that they’re going to choose me,” he says. He keeps looking at the sky.
Yeah, that’s what I suspected. I’ve heard those fucking rumors, too. More than Xan himself has, probably. Syra even told me she wanted Xan to be chosen as King -- and swore me to secrecy on pain of torture. She doesn’t think he will actually be picked, but she hopes he will. Since she’s scary as shit, of course I stayed quiet. Well, that and I also see no reason to freak Xan out.
I take a deep breath. Right now, I kinda want to reach out for Xan, but I don’t even know where we stand, not after all the bullshit we’ve been through. “But that’s not, you know, actually likely, is it?” I say.
His shoulders sag. “I don’t know, Dylan. I hope it’s not, but who can be sure? At first, I was certain Krun would be chosen, but, after all the things he’s done, some people are starting to doubt him. Ayli? She’s completely in love with Preston -- she wants to go to Earth with him and have a human wedding eventually. She won’t Soulbreak him. If Krun weren’t chosen, I always thought Ayli would be, just because she was more engaged in the political scene despite never fitting in socially...but then she met your roommate and realized something else was possible for her,” he says.
My stomach twists. “And, um, what are they saying about you?” I ask.
“They’re saying I don’t want to be King, which is very much true. But there are some who say I’m suitable anyway and even some who think that I should be chosen because I don’t want it,” he says, shaking his head. “Can you believe that?”
Actually, I can fucking see the logic behind that one. A guy who doesn’t want to be ruler is less likely to go crazy with power and stuff, right? Someone like Krun? He’s prime “evil dictator” material. Honestly, if I were in charge of picking from Xan and his siblings, I would fucking choose him. He would kill me if I did, but I would definitely pick Xan. I’m not gonna tell him that, though.
“It’s just stupid rumors, right?” I say, shifting on my seat.
“Just rumors...” Xan’s voice is even more fucking distant now. “Just rumors...it will be Krun, surely.” He nods and finally turns to look at me. “It will be.” His eyes are, like, begging me to make it true, as if I could. Or would.
I say nothing, both hoping he’s chosen because it would be better for Zimara and hoping he’s not because I don’t want to see him so fucking unhappy.
* * *
“Preston, could you stop, um, bouncing so fucking much?” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “This is a serious occasion.”
“I know that, Dylan. I know, I know. Ayli could be the next Queen. Of an entire interplanetary Empire.” He doesn’t stop bouncing on the balls of his feet. Preston’s radiating nervous energy as we stand in front of the mirror in my room, trying to get ready. Xan offered us some of the Palace beauty staff -- yes, those exist -- to help us get ready, but we declined. Now, looking at my stupid fucking messy hair, I regret that decision. Of course, Preston’s sandy blond hair is fucking perfect. It always is because he’s got magic powers or something.
Perfect or not, he smooths out his hair anyway. “Do you know what that would mean for us? Since we’re together? What would happen to me? Do you know? I don’t know.”
“You would, uh...be King eventually?” I say. I squint at the huge full-length mirror and try, again, to fix my fucking hair.
“Kind of. Maybe. We’re not going to do a Soulbreaking, so I don’t know if I would, legally. But I am her boyfriend, and...seriously can you imagine being a Queen’s boyfriend? It was wild enough when I found out she was the Princess. And what if we got married like humans do? I mean, I’m human,” he breathes. His face is flushed, and he needs to calm down.
I smooth out my fancy outfit, which at least looks better than my hair. It’s a black and silver suit, cut in the Zimaran style, which means it’s a hell of a lot more...obviously sexual than any human formalwear. I’ve got on a v-neck shirt, and the black pants with a silver stripe down the side are fucking tight. As is the matching jacket.
Preston’s suit is different, though -- he and Ayli apparently worked with a designer on it, and it looks so much more human. Since I know nothing about fashion, it seems just like a normal human suit to me -- complete with actual fucking tie -- only with silver pinstripes and a silvery collared shirt. He’s got on actual lace-up shoes. I have on skimpy sandal things.
Back on Earth, I never fucking enjoyed dressing up, but I like my sexy suit. My outfit, however? It’s fucking nothing compared to what the Broken wear, even on formal occasions. Submissive partners in officially committed Zimaran relationships dress like it, with seriously skimpy outfits. And actual fucking slave collars. It’s really kind of hot.
I see myself blush in the mirror when I start thinking about how I would look in one of those collars. What the fuck? Now isn’t the time, self.
Preston raises an eyebrow, while still fucking bouncing. “What’s with you? Why’re you blushing like that?”
“Nothing. No reason,” I mutter, hoping my fucking blush goes away. What, do you enjoy putting me in awkward situations? You do? Of course you do
The doorbell makes me leap about a hundred feet in the air. Who the hell could that be? Confused, I walk to the door, Preston following me. I check the little viewscreen whatsit next to the door -- it’s Xan. What the fuck is he doing here? He should be, like, preparing for the Choosing Ceremony.
I open the door and let him in. “What the fuck are you doing here, Xan?” I say.
Sighing, he sits down on the couch in my living room without saying anything. I sit down beside him and give him a “you better explain” look. Preston stands by the couch, clearly confused, too.
“Will you...stand beside me, just for today?” Xan murmurs, fear all over his face. “I know it’s usually romantic partners who stand together, but...I could use a friend.”
Wait, what? He wants me to what?
For the longest time, I sit there with my jaw hanging open. You don’t ask just anybody to “stand beside” you during a Choosing Ceremony.
“I don’t know know, Xan. Can’t you ask Jirrin?” I say, feeling his eyes burn into me.
“He’s back in the hospital -- he’s relapsing. They haven’t figured out what it is, exactly, but I know it’s Krun’s doing. Today, of all days...” he says. There are tears in his eyes, and I don’t fucking blame him.
Xan’s brother almost certainly tried to kill his best friend Jirrin. If anyone makes the connection, even in a hypothetical way, will Krun get the throne? Or is he definitely out of the running?
“I’m sorry, man,” I murmur. What else can I say?
“Yeah, me too,” Preston says. He no longer bounces.
“Please, Dylan? I...need somebody I trust to stand beside me,” Xan says.
Without thinking, I hug him tight. “I’ll -- stand beside you,” I say.
He trembles in my arms. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I...don’t think I could do this alone.”
“You don’t have to,” I say. Whatever has happened between us, we are still friends.
I’ll be there for him, even if I don’t know what to hope for. Xan looks so fucking scared of being chosen, but this planet needs him.
I think I need him, too.