Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 28, 2017 6:45:09 GMT 10
Title: The More It Glitters, the More It Breaks
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2214
Summary: Kaddar is not drawn to the deadly glitter of his uncle's court.
Warnings: References to assassination and difficult childbirth.
Notes: Inspired by Tamari's "glitter" prompt. Somewhat of a companion piece to "Not All That Glitters is Gold" but can very much stand alone.
Dedication: To Tamari in thanks for the prompt.
The More It Glitters, the More It Breaks
Awaiting a private audience with his uncle the Emperor Ozorne, Kaddar wished to be anywhere else, including the gaping jaws of a ravenous crocodile. At least with a crocodile, his end would come quick, not drawn out agonizingly by a poison that burned his organs or made him cough up blood for days, tormented by the knowledge that he was dying, and there was nothing Carthak’s most gifted healers could do to save him or even ease his suffering.
Of course, there was no proof—merely whispers and rumors—that his uncle was responsible for the deaths of the previous heirs to his glittering throne. When he wept his crocodile tears over their cold corpses, Emperor Ozorne raged against ambitious courtiers, blaming the heir’s murder on a noble who had sparked his wrath in some way. The noble would be sentenced to a tortuous death, because for Emperor Ozorne it was never enough to just kill his enemies, and he could be very creative in devising executions for those who provoked his paranoia or temper. Kaddar could only imagine how his uncle smiled behind closed doors at eliminating two potential threats to his power every time he accomplished this scheme of slaying two birds with one stone (not that Emperor Ozorne would have harmed a feather on one of his own birds, since his precious pets were treated with a kindness he would never show a human).
The fact that Kaddar was now next in line for the throne when the only imperial blood flowing through his veins came from his mother—the Emperor’s only sister—was a stark, terrifying testimony to how the imperial family had been decimated by Emperor Ozorne’s brutal purge. After all, inheritance almost never passed through a female unless there was no other alternative. Emperor Ozorne had made certain that there was no alternative, and Kaddar did not need his university education to deduce that it was only a question of time before Emperor Ozorne would try to rid himself of Kaddar as he had all the other heirs that had come before him.
As his thoughts turned to his mother, Kaddar shot her a sidelong glance, grateful to have such a redoubtable woman supporting him when he met the Emperor for the first time in many years. In her lavender silk gown with a gleaming amethyst on the sparkling silver necklace circling her throat, she seemed poised as she silently asserted her right to wear imperial purple as one of the few surviving members of the Emperor’s once large family.
Seeing the proud tilt to her chin and the elegant straightness of her spine, Kaddar hoped that he looked just as majestic in the cactus green tunic with the thin purple stripes beneath the shoulders that she had made him wear as a mute reminder of his imperial bloodline. His mother believed in the power of colors and symbols, always dressing to convey a message and advising her only son to do the same.
Anything he knew about surviving a cutthroat court came from her. She was his only champion now that his father—a southern prince and decorated general with many glittering medals that couldn’t save him from a rebel’s well thrown spear—who should have protected both of them was dead as a hunted antelope.
“Has my hair fallen out of its knot?” Mother, who must have detected Kaddar’s studying her out of the corner of his eyes, arched a delicate eyebrow. Her hair was immaculate in an elaborate knot at the top of her head as he suspected she was well-aware, but it was a son’s duty to flatter his mother at such moments.
“It’s beautiful, Mother. Not a hair is out of place.” Bending down to peck her on the cheek (because, at a mere five feet, she was as short as Kaddar’s father had been tall; they had ever been one another’s opposites with Father dark and Mother light, and Father fighting at war and Mother in politics, a perfect power couple before Father was slain in battle), Kaddar took advantage of the opportunity to mutter ironically into the shell of her ear, “Nice of my esteemed uncle to invite us to his exalted Midwinter celebrations.”
“His Imperial Majesty loves his family.” Mother’s voice was taut, and her gaze flickered to the silent slaves hovering in the corner as a reminder that they were never alone at court, and every word would be used to destroy them if not by the Emperor than by some avaricious courtier.
Since Emperor Ozorne’s slaves were mutes, Kaddar, whose sarcasm had to stream out of its dam sometimes to prevent flooding, risked remarking, “Doubtlessly that explains why he’s never invited us before.”
In years prior, Mother had observed Midwinter by hosting her own balls at their holdings in the south, while Kaddar remained at the university, busy with his books.
“Behave.” Mother gave his cheek a pat that was meant to appear affectionate but was sharp enough that Kaddar knew it was an admonition, a caution. “Control your tongue. Only speak when the Emperor addresses you, and even then say as little as possible, and nothing that could earn his ire.”
“Yes, Mother.” Kaddar recognized that she was right, and he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself by arguing when he was in the wrong.
“You’re the only child I’ll ever have, Kaddar.” Mother’s pat on his cheek was soft this time, and Kaddar tried not to reflect on how his bloody birth when his mother was barely fifteen had left her unable to conceive children. That always made him feel guilty for the pain he had caused her coming into the world, but she seemed to treasure him all the more because of how difficult giving birth to him had been. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Before Kaddar could promise her that she would never lose him, Varice, the Emperor’s hostess with a shining smile that never left her lips and never reached her eyes, slipped out of the audience chamber, announcing, “His Imperial Majesty will see you now. I’ll wait here to escort you to the rooms we’ve prepared for you, which I’m confident will be to your satisfaction, when you’ve finished with His Imperial Majesty. Please be assured that His Imperial Majesty wishes you both to feel most welcome in his palace.”
“His Imperial Majesty’s generosity is appreciated.” Mother gave a perfunctory curtsy and glided toward the entrance to the audience chamber.
“We’re unworthy of His Imperial Majesty’s many kindnesses to us.” Kaddar bowed and hoped the movement would conceal any hint in his expression of the fact that he realized any kindness from Emperor Ozorne was a poisoned one intended to lure the unwary to their demise the way a venomous flower waft a sweet scent to ensnare an unsuspecting insect in its sticky, devouring petals.
Rising from his bow, he followed his mother into the audience chamber, where everything from the marble columns to the golden throne glittered like a dream, but Kaddar wasn’t charmed by the opulence. He understood that dreams were glass: the more they glittered, the more fragile they were. With Emperor Ozorne, dreams were broken from the start, having no chance against his cunning ruthlessness.
Emperor Ozorne, radiant in a robe as yellow as the merciless Carthaki sun, stepped out from behind a gilt screen on the dais where his throne dominated the room. Instantly, Kaddar and his mother sank to their knees. His mother, Kaddar believed, only looked more dignified when she fell to her knees, and maybe his uncle had the same idea, since he strode down from his dais and extended a hand to Kaddar’s mother.
“Sweet sister.” As he lifted her for her feet, Emperor Ozorne kissed her cheeks in a warm welcome that left Kaddar cold as marble. “You were ever my favorite sibling, the only one who remained loyal to me. I never forgave our parents for shipping you south like a slave to be married to a savage prince when at thirteen you were but a slip of a girl. You were mine, and they took you away from me.”
Kaddar was tempted to bristle at the insult to his father but managed to keep his face blank, acting as if he hadn’t heard the calumny against a noble man who had died defending Carthak from insurrectionists.
“Nobody could ever take me away from you, revered brother.” Mother inclined her head.
“Is that so? It’s just been too long since we were together.” Emperor Ozorne clicked his tongue, and Kaddar had the irreverent thought that the sound was reminiscent of one of his bird’s beaks clacking shut around a bug. Kaddar bit back a snort as his uncle went on, wiping out Kaddar’s amusement with his next words, “A more paranoid man than me might suspect you were avoiding me in the south all these years, dear sister, but I understand that you were just separating yourself from the two-faced plotters clogging my court. You know my court is full of vipers who will stoke at your heels if you don’t snap their necks first. You don’t wish for your son or yourself to be poisoned by the devious snakes, but now the time has come for you to face their venom.”
Emperor Ozorne moved away from her before she could respond to this unnerving pronouncement. He stopped before Kaddar, who kept his gaze fixed on the tiles that formed a mosaic in the floor because he didn’t want to offer his uncle an excuse to believe that he was challenging him. Emperor Ozorne saw treachery in every glance.
“Beloved nephew.” Emperor Ozorne slid a finger beneath Kaddar’s chin, lifting Kaddar’s face for his scrutiny. At his uncle’s touch, Kaddar had to resist the urge to recoil and prayed to the Graveyard Hag that none of his disgust crossed his features. “You look nothing like your darling mother and everything like your father but your father died stamping out a rebellion. Like father, like son. I trust that you’ll crush treason, not be party to it.”
“I live to serve Your Imperial Majesty faithfully.” Kaddar hoped that he had abased himself enough that Emperor Ozorne would permit him to rise because his knees were aching from the unyielding pressure of the tiles. He longed to squirm but knew such an undignified gesture was forbidden to a prince.
“Of course you do.” Emperor Ozorne smiled but did not lift Kaddar to his feet. “I hear you’ve been studying at the university, but now that you’re my heir, you must come to court to be educated by me. As you’ve no father, it’s my duty as your uncle to guide you and mold you into my image until you’re an heir in whom I can be well-pleased.”
Kaddar said all the polite and hollow words about being unworthy of his exalted uncle’s favor and living only to please his Emperor, but when he and his mother had been shown to their quarters, he dared to reveal his true thoughts, whispering fiercely, “I don’t wish to be molded in my uncle’s image.”
“Do what he requires of you but don’t change who you are on the inside.” Mother tapped Kaddar’s chest. “Keep your true self locked in your heart and never surrender it to him. Be obliging on the outside and strong on the inside.”
“Yes, Mother.” Kaddar would heed her advice since there was nothing else he could do, and she had never led him astray.
“Good boy.” Mother brushed her lips across his forehead, and if it wasn’t Midwinter, he might have protested that he was too old for such blatant coddling. If his father were still alive, Kaddar imagined that this was a moment he would’ve accused Mother of doting on Kaddar. “I’ve a present for you.”
She pushed a golden bracelet up his wrist. Admiring how it shone in the sunlight streaking through the windows, he murmured, “It’s gorgeous. Thank you, Mother.”
“Its beauty is its least impressive attribute.” Mother clutched his shoulder as if to ensure that she had his full attention. “It has a magical ability to detect certain dangers in the environment. If it warms your wrist, don’t eat your food or drink your wine, but be subtle in your refusal so as to not offend anyone, especially His Imperial Majesty.”
Staring down at the bracelet that was to protect him from poisoning, Kaddar realized that it must have cost family heirlooms. How many would be impolitic to ask as Mother would chide him if he attempted to pry the information out of her.
“I appreciate you keeping me safe, Mother.” Kaddar spoke only when he was sure his voice wouldn’t shake. His mother was too strong to have produced a weak son.
“You’re mine, Kaddar.” Mother cupped his chin between her palms, and it occurred to Kaddar that his mother could be as possessive and protective of what was hers as uncle. Any who underestimated her ferocity did so at their own peril. “I’ll give everything I have to keep you alive. Nobody but the gods will ever steal you from me.”
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2214
Summary: Kaddar is not drawn to the deadly glitter of his uncle's court.
Warnings: References to assassination and difficult childbirth.
Notes: Inspired by Tamari's "glitter" prompt. Somewhat of a companion piece to "Not All That Glitters is Gold" but can very much stand alone.
Dedication: To Tamari in thanks for the prompt.
The More It Glitters, the More It Breaks
Awaiting a private audience with his uncle the Emperor Ozorne, Kaddar wished to be anywhere else, including the gaping jaws of a ravenous crocodile. At least with a crocodile, his end would come quick, not drawn out agonizingly by a poison that burned his organs or made him cough up blood for days, tormented by the knowledge that he was dying, and there was nothing Carthak’s most gifted healers could do to save him or even ease his suffering.
Of course, there was no proof—merely whispers and rumors—that his uncle was responsible for the deaths of the previous heirs to his glittering throne. When he wept his crocodile tears over their cold corpses, Emperor Ozorne raged against ambitious courtiers, blaming the heir’s murder on a noble who had sparked his wrath in some way. The noble would be sentenced to a tortuous death, because for Emperor Ozorne it was never enough to just kill his enemies, and he could be very creative in devising executions for those who provoked his paranoia or temper. Kaddar could only imagine how his uncle smiled behind closed doors at eliminating two potential threats to his power every time he accomplished this scheme of slaying two birds with one stone (not that Emperor Ozorne would have harmed a feather on one of his own birds, since his precious pets were treated with a kindness he would never show a human).
The fact that Kaddar was now next in line for the throne when the only imperial blood flowing through his veins came from his mother—the Emperor’s only sister—was a stark, terrifying testimony to how the imperial family had been decimated by Emperor Ozorne’s brutal purge. After all, inheritance almost never passed through a female unless there was no other alternative. Emperor Ozorne had made certain that there was no alternative, and Kaddar did not need his university education to deduce that it was only a question of time before Emperor Ozorne would try to rid himself of Kaddar as he had all the other heirs that had come before him.
As his thoughts turned to his mother, Kaddar shot her a sidelong glance, grateful to have such a redoubtable woman supporting him when he met the Emperor for the first time in many years. In her lavender silk gown with a gleaming amethyst on the sparkling silver necklace circling her throat, she seemed poised as she silently asserted her right to wear imperial purple as one of the few surviving members of the Emperor’s once large family.
Seeing the proud tilt to her chin and the elegant straightness of her spine, Kaddar hoped that he looked just as majestic in the cactus green tunic with the thin purple stripes beneath the shoulders that she had made him wear as a mute reminder of his imperial bloodline. His mother believed in the power of colors and symbols, always dressing to convey a message and advising her only son to do the same.
Anything he knew about surviving a cutthroat court came from her. She was his only champion now that his father—a southern prince and decorated general with many glittering medals that couldn’t save him from a rebel’s well thrown spear—who should have protected both of them was dead as a hunted antelope.
“Has my hair fallen out of its knot?” Mother, who must have detected Kaddar’s studying her out of the corner of his eyes, arched a delicate eyebrow. Her hair was immaculate in an elaborate knot at the top of her head as he suspected she was well-aware, but it was a son’s duty to flatter his mother at such moments.
“It’s beautiful, Mother. Not a hair is out of place.” Bending down to peck her on the cheek (because, at a mere five feet, she was as short as Kaddar’s father had been tall; they had ever been one another’s opposites with Father dark and Mother light, and Father fighting at war and Mother in politics, a perfect power couple before Father was slain in battle), Kaddar took advantage of the opportunity to mutter ironically into the shell of her ear, “Nice of my esteemed uncle to invite us to his exalted Midwinter celebrations.”
“His Imperial Majesty loves his family.” Mother’s voice was taut, and her gaze flickered to the silent slaves hovering in the corner as a reminder that they were never alone at court, and every word would be used to destroy them if not by the Emperor than by some avaricious courtier.
Since Emperor Ozorne’s slaves were mutes, Kaddar, whose sarcasm had to stream out of its dam sometimes to prevent flooding, risked remarking, “Doubtlessly that explains why he’s never invited us before.”
In years prior, Mother had observed Midwinter by hosting her own balls at their holdings in the south, while Kaddar remained at the university, busy with his books.
“Behave.” Mother gave his cheek a pat that was meant to appear affectionate but was sharp enough that Kaddar knew it was an admonition, a caution. “Control your tongue. Only speak when the Emperor addresses you, and even then say as little as possible, and nothing that could earn his ire.”
“Yes, Mother.” Kaddar recognized that she was right, and he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself by arguing when he was in the wrong.
“You’re the only child I’ll ever have, Kaddar.” Mother’s pat on his cheek was soft this time, and Kaddar tried not to reflect on how his bloody birth when his mother was barely fifteen had left her unable to conceive children. That always made him feel guilty for the pain he had caused her coming into the world, but she seemed to treasure him all the more because of how difficult giving birth to him had been. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Before Kaddar could promise her that she would never lose him, Varice, the Emperor’s hostess with a shining smile that never left her lips and never reached her eyes, slipped out of the audience chamber, announcing, “His Imperial Majesty will see you now. I’ll wait here to escort you to the rooms we’ve prepared for you, which I’m confident will be to your satisfaction, when you’ve finished with His Imperial Majesty. Please be assured that His Imperial Majesty wishes you both to feel most welcome in his palace.”
“His Imperial Majesty’s generosity is appreciated.” Mother gave a perfunctory curtsy and glided toward the entrance to the audience chamber.
“We’re unworthy of His Imperial Majesty’s many kindnesses to us.” Kaddar bowed and hoped the movement would conceal any hint in his expression of the fact that he realized any kindness from Emperor Ozorne was a poisoned one intended to lure the unwary to their demise the way a venomous flower waft a sweet scent to ensnare an unsuspecting insect in its sticky, devouring petals.
Rising from his bow, he followed his mother into the audience chamber, where everything from the marble columns to the golden throne glittered like a dream, but Kaddar wasn’t charmed by the opulence. He understood that dreams were glass: the more they glittered, the more fragile they were. With Emperor Ozorne, dreams were broken from the start, having no chance against his cunning ruthlessness.
Emperor Ozorne, radiant in a robe as yellow as the merciless Carthaki sun, stepped out from behind a gilt screen on the dais where his throne dominated the room. Instantly, Kaddar and his mother sank to their knees. His mother, Kaddar believed, only looked more dignified when she fell to her knees, and maybe his uncle had the same idea, since he strode down from his dais and extended a hand to Kaddar’s mother.
“Sweet sister.” As he lifted her for her feet, Emperor Ozorne kissed her cheeks in a warm welcome that left Kaddar cold as marble. “You were ever my favorite sibling, the only one who remained loyal to me. I never forgave our parents for shipping you south like a slave to be married to a savage prince when at thirteen you were but a slip of a girl. You were mine, and they took you away from me.”
Kaddar was tempted to bristle at the insult to his father but managed to keep his face blank, acting as if he hadn’t heard the calumny against a noble man who had died defending Carthak from insurrectionists.
“Nobody could ever take me away from you, revered brother.” Mother inclined her head.
“Is that so? It’s just been too long since we were together.” Emperor Ozorne clicked his tongue, and Kaddar had the irreverent thought that the sound was reminiscent of one of his bird’s beaks clacking shut around a bug. Kaddar bit back a snort as his uncle went on, wiping out Kaddar’s amusement with his next words, “A more paranoid man than me might suspect you were avoiding me in the south all these years, dear sister, but I understand that you were just separating yourself from the two-faced plotters clogging my court. You know my court is full of vipers who will stoke at your heels if you don’t snap their necks first. You don’t wish for your son or yourself to be poisoned by the devious snakes, but now the time has come for you to face their venom.”
Emperor Ozorne moved away from her before she could respond to this unnerving pronouncement. He stopped before Kaddar, who kept his gaze fixed on the tiles that formed a mosaic in the floor because he didn’t want to offer his uncle an excuse to believe that he was challenging him. Emperor Ozorne saw treachery in every glance.
“Beloved nephew.” Emperor Ozorne slid a finger beneath Kaddar’s chin, lifting Kaddar’s face for his scrutiny. At his uncle’s touch, Kaddar had to resist the urge to recoil and prayed to the Graveyard Hag that none of his disgust crossed his features. “You look nothing like your darling mother and everything like your father but your father died stamping out a rebellion. Like father, like son. I trust that you’ll crush treason, not be party to it.”
“I live to serve Your Imperial Majesty faithfully.” Kaddar hoped that he had abased himself enough that Emperor Ozorne would permit him to rise because his knees were aching from the unyielding pressure of the tiles. He longed to squirm but knew such an undignified gesture was forbidden to a prince.
“Of course you do.” Emperor Ozorne smiled but did not lift Kaddar to his feet. “I hear you’ve been studying at the university, but now that you’re my heir, you must come to court to be educated by me. As you’ve no father, it’s my duty as your uncle to guide you and mold you into my image until you’re an heir in whom I can be well-pleased.”
Kaddar said all the polite and hollow words about being unworthy of his exalted uncle’s favor and living only to please his Emperor, but when he and his mother had been shown to their quarters, he dared to reveal his true thoughts, whispering fiercely, “I don’t wish to be molded in my uncle’s image.”
“Do what he requires of you but don’t change who you are on the inside.” Mother tapped Kaddar’s chest. “Keep your true self locked in your heart and never surrender it to him. Be obliging on the outside and strong on the inside.”
“Yes, Mother.” Kaddar would heed her advice since there was nothing else he could do, and she had never led him astray.
“Good boy.” Mother brushed her lips across his forehead, and if it wasn’t Midwinter, he might have protested that he was too old for such blatant coddling. If his father were still alive, Kaddar imagined that this was a moment he would’ve accused Mother of doting on Kaddar. “I’ve a present for you.”
She pushed a golden bracelet up his wrist. Admiring how it shone in the sunlight streaking through the windows, he murmured, “It’s gorgeous. Thank you, Mother.”
“Its beauty is its least impressive attribute.” Mother clutched his shoulder as if to ensure that she had his full attention. “It has a magical ability to detect certain dangers in the environment. If it warms your wrist, don’t eat your food or drink your wine, but be subtle in your refusal so as to not offend anyone, especially His Imperial Majesty.”
Staring down at the bracelet that was to protect him from poisoning, Kaddar realized that it must have cost family heirlooms. How many would be impolitic to ask as Mother would chide him if he attempted to pry the information out of her.
“I appreciate you keeping me safe, Mother.” Kaddar spoke only when he was sure his voice wouldn’t shake. His mother was too strong to have produced a weak son.
“You’re mine, Kaddar.” Mother cupped his chin between her palms, and it occurred to Kaddar that his mother could be as possessive and protective of what was hers as uncle. Any who underestimated her ferocity did so at their own peril. “I’ll give everything I have to keep you alive. Nobody but the gods will ever steal you from me.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!