Sunlight blanketed the courtyard with an unwavering warmth, a gentle breeze moving the air just enough to keep the temperature pleasant. For those like Tirion, however, used to cooler climates, it wasn't quite so wonderful. Though his mother's planet was temperate and seasonal, he had not spent much time there and even the academy, located on a planet warmer than usual, had not accustomed him to higher temperatures. Born on a world where snow was almost year around, he supposed the cold was just part of his system.
The meeting had adjourned for a few hours after it was realized that absolutely no progress was being made. People were simply too riled up. So, they decided to let everyone relax a bit, stretch their legs, then hopefully return a bit more fresh than before. Though a few had returned to their rooms to lay down, most of the representatives had gone out to enjoy the weather and talk amongst themselves.
The courtyard was large and square, the outer edge lined with decorative fruit trees. Gardens split the yard into four distinct sections, each with a fountain in the center. Many of the delegates were lounging about on the benches and walkways, thinking or speaking quietly. Those who, like the prince, found it a bit too warm were gathered in the shade of the trees, trying to stay cool.
Tirion was perched on the edge of one of the smaller fountains, hoping the spray from the water would help to fight off the heat. No one was anywhere near him and he was quite content with being avoided. A little quiet time was just what he needed. He lifted the hair off of his neck, letting the breeze reach the skin there. Long hair was practical at home when the body could use as much coverage as it could get against the elements but here it was a hassle.
He turned slightly, glancing down into the water behind him as he pulled his hair up and secured it back with a band. He examined his reflection closely to make sure everything was in order. The prince did not consider himself vain, just very image conscious. He didn't get any special enjoyment from simply looking at himself but he always felt the need to know that everything about him was straight and neat. Disorder tended to make him very uncomfortable.
The water rippled with the fountain's constant spray though, towards the edge it was slightly more still. It was from here that Tirion's reflection looked back up at him — a face very like his father's but more delicately featured, light blue in color and crowned with straight, fine pure white hair. His eyes, pale yellow with the characteristic cat-like pupils of a Drule, flickered intently over his reflected countenance through the small round glasses perched on his nose.
There had been some concern when he was younger at the difficulty he was having learning to read. There didn't seem to be a reason why the otherwise bright prince couldn't work out even the simplest lessons. It was not for quite some time that they discovered that the only reason Tirion couldn't read was because he couldn't see the words well enough to make them out. Bad eyesight was not common in either side of his family, but he had it all the same.
Their level of technology was not high enough to have his sight corrected. Drule eyes were a bit more complicated than the average and the delicate surgery necessary to fix them was out of their reach. Still, Tirion found no offense in wearing glasses. They were made well, small, lightweight and sensible, as well as able to stand alone without being secured at the ears. In fact, the round lenses and the thin bridge that connected them were all there was to it. They didn't slip or need constant readjustment, staying right where they were put until purposefully removed. The prince rather liked them, actually, though this may have been because he knew that without them, he was as blind as a bat.
He touched the water with a slender finger, watching it unsettle. If one thing could be said about him that separated him from his father, it was that he did not have the build of a warrior. Everything about him was lighter in one way or another, from his coloring to his body size. Tirion was much more slender than his father and slightly taller. He was well-trained in self- defense and in good shape, but he wasn't much for muscle mass. He had the feeling that no matter how much exercise he ever did, he would always stay the same size. But, being of a generally more studious nature, this did not really concern him.
What did concern him was that no matter how much of him looked like Lotor, they were not the same person and no one here seemed to see that. In the hours before the recess, he had tried to convince them over and over again that he could not be held responsible for something that happened five years before he was even born. He couldn't seem to make them see that he wasn't Lotor and that he was not speaking for Doom. Doom didn't exist. Tirion wasn't sure how much more he would have to tell people that before they finally understood it.
It was frustrating that they were not contesting his ideas, but his lineage. The fact that he was who he was by name seemed enough to turn most everyone against him right off the mark. It did not look good for negotiations. In fact, it looked positively useless. As much as he hated to admit it, if things didn't start to shape up, he was going to have to take some slightly more...discreet action.
The grass rustled near his feet and the prince turned his attention from the water, looking curiously at the ground. A light brown garden snake was weaving its way through the green blades, stopping every now and then to taste the air with its quickly darting tongue. Reptiles were scarce on Ursan due to the cold temperatures and the prince moved from the fountain to kneel in the grass, wanting a better look.
He reached out and gently lifted the snake from the ground, holding it lightly behind the head, the rest of the narrow body resting in his other hand. The two looked at each other for a moment, slitted eye meeting slitted eye. I think you'd have more of a chance to get your point across in there than I. he thought. In a choice between the two of us, I think you'd come out on top.
The snake stuck its tongue out for an instant, rather agreeably as it didn't sense any current danger...towards itself, at least.
"Found a relation of yours, have you?" a voice sneered from behind.
Tirion did not turn, slowly lowering the snake back to the ground and letting it go. With the same casual slowness, he glanced over his shoulder at the man standing above him. It was the Galaxy Garrison officer who had pestered him earlier about the planet's dwindling funds, introduced sometime after that as Lieutenant Andros.
Saying that Andros did not like him seemed to be putting it lightly. Apparently he was taking affront not only at the prince's species and family ties, but also at having been shown up in front of all the other delegates by a young man only 21 standard years old. The expression on his thin face showed rather clearly that he was ready to get back some of his own.
The prince rose, dusting of his hands and turning towards the other man, offering a courteous, "Greetings, Lieutenant. Did you say something?"
Andros seemed momentarily confused when his initial insult did not make the impact he had been intending it to. He quickly pulled himself together. "Oh, nothing of consequence. Just inquiring about your family. How is your father these days? Let's see...the last time I saw him, he was in prison with the rest of the Drule war criminals."
Tirion smiled politely. "He's quite well. How nice of you to ask. I shall tell him you inquired after him when I return."
The officer narrowed his eyes. He wasn't expecting to be answered as if this was just a friendly conversation on the street. The little maggot of a prince wasn't going to get away with making him look like a fool, not if he could help it. "Tell me..." he said, trying a new tactic, "how does it feel to be the son of a man who enslaved planets and killed millions of innocent people?"
"I'm afraid I wouldn't know." Tirion said, neither his expression or tone faltering in the least. "That all happened before I was born, you see."
That hit Andros where it hurt. He was touchy about his age. Still, he couldn't let a damnable boy get the better of him. The kid was obviously a cool customer but in Andros' experience, there was always a way to melt even the coldest of the cold. He just needed to find it. "Look," he growled. "Let's dispense with the pleasantries."
‘Pleasantries'? Tirion thought. Is that what those were?
Andros continued, his voice low and threatening, "You and I both know you're never going to get the treaty amended in your favor. It was written the way it was on purpose, to keep you, your father, and the rest of your Doom-loving people where they belong."
"There is no Doom." the prince said innocently. "I thought I'd already said as much."
The Lieutenant snorted. "Don't make me laugh. I don't believe that for a minute. I spent too long watching Zarkon and Lotor try to destroy the galaxy to ever trust anything they or their offspring have to say. Your coming here was pointless. You and your people are getting what they deserve after making everyone else's lives a living hell. That treaty is as close as we can come to making you pay for everything that happened and there's no way I'd let that change."
Tirion still looked rather unfazed, saying in a sincere tone, "Why, thank you for your honesty, Lieutenant. I'm glad you feel sure enough about your self to share your views with me."
Andros ground his teeth. He knew perfectly well that the sincerity was about as real as desert mirage. But it was delivered too smoothly, like he wasn't even making a dent. It infuriated him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to get anything out over his raging anger.
The prince blinked at him, smiling amiably.
"You...just had better watch your back." Andros spit out, then turned on his heel and stormed off.
"Thank you kindly for your concern." Tirion called after him. "Have a lovely day, officer."
The only response in the retreating figure was an enraged hunch of his shoulders.
Tirion's smile slipped into a grin and he chuckled to himself, sitting back on the fountain's edge. That man would take some watching. But it was nothing he couldn't handle.
The room given to the prince after his unexpected arrival was sparsely furnished and had obviously been put rather hastily in order. Of course, being the kind of person he was, Tirion didn't agree with that particular order and had spent awhile moving things around until he was
comfortable with it. Control over his personal environment was one thing he always felt compelled to have – one of his more glaring personality quirks. Thankfully, however, it was only truly obvious to anyone who tried to invade his space which didn't often happen.
Despite the cleaning the room had supposedly gone through before Tirion had actually entered it, it was nothing compared to what the room had gone through once he'd settled in. Soon everything was as eerily straight and neat as the prince himself. How such a thing could be
accomplished with no cleaning materials would always remain a mystery but to the young man himself. Some people could just do that sort of thing.
Currently, he sat by the window, looking vaguely out over the landscape. The gray light of predawn filtered in through the glass, making the already plain room look even more drab. Though he was not an especially late sleeper, it wasn't usual for the prince to be up this early either. Of course, to have gotten up, he would have had to have been asleep in the first place, which he hadn't.
To his own surprise, Tirion hadn't slept a wink the entire night and he wasn't too awfully sure why. Theoretically, stress or nervousness about the assembly or other affairs of state could make one unable to relax, but the prince didn't feel uptight at all. As far as he was concerned, this whole business was just beginning. There was no need to be concerned as of yet.
He was one of the few in the universe with the innate ability to always appear completely calm no matter what was happening. He was also well aware of this fact and, bearing it always in mind, he proceeded through his life with confidence. After twenty-some years of this, however, the ability to recognize nervousness for what it was had been utterly lost upon him. His confidence was, in a way, a delusion brought on by habit. Not necessarily a bad delusion, considering, but though his mind thought everything was fine, his body generally knew the truth which left the prince to wonder where all of those headaches kept coming from.
Likewise, the sleepless night seemed without reason to him. It was certainly true that no one at the assembly seemed open to compromise but whereas many people would see this as an obstacle, Tirion saw it merely as a step in a larger overall process. A challenge, really. He could hardly be a son of Lotor without seeing it as such. And though he fully planned on trying to succeed in a straightforward manner, there was always the lingering thought in the back of his mind that if straightforward failed, other arrangements could easily be made.
Gazing out the window proved to be an unfulfilling experience and Tirion abandoned it in favor of the mirror attached to the dresser. The palace grounds were undeniably beautiful, but not particularly interesting. The large number of flowering trees and plants were made even less attractive by their rather high pollen count. Unused to having anything around to be allergic to, the prince found this aspect of a temperate world slightly annoying. It was hard to be fond of things that encouraged loud sneezing fits.
In the mirror, the prince checked for any outward signs that he hadn't slept. He hoped it wasn't obvious. It wouldn't do for anyone else to know about it as they would surely mistake it for some sort of weakness. And, he thought to himself, I think I've already got enough of that already. Having them think I'm incapable is one thing...but complete incompetence is another. There has to be some grounds for credence here.
He picked up his brush and thoughtfully ran it through his hair, considering what sort of argument he could next bring to the table. Surely there was something he could say that the majority could agree with. They couldn't deny a logical and well thought out request. For a moment, Tirion caught his own gaze in the mirror and instantly reconsidered. Yes they could. And they would. Because he reminded them of someone they hated. And hate made people do strange things. As did love, admittedly. Just look at what it had done to his father.
The prince didn't spend too much time pondering Lotor's past. It seemed useless to dwell on it or to dredge it up. It was in the past and needed to stay that way. His father often spoke of the years before he came to Ursan, usually when he'd had a bit too much to drink and his stories were always filled with anger and shame just as his memories must be.
Certainly he held a deep and abiding hatred for the robot known as Voltron, as well as for those who piloted it. But, when he spoke of Princess Allura, his tone always changed. The anger gave way to frustration, and the shame to longing. Whether those emotions simply came back with the memory, or whether he still felt them, Tirion did not know. Allura was a faceless name to him, one he had often grown tired of hearing.
He knew it must be much the same for his mother, Ysandra, though she never spoke of it. Perhaps Lotor was able to keep himself from speaking of his old love when with his wife. Or perhaps not. The King and Queen had an odd and rather undefinable relationship, understood only by themselves. Tirion had long since stopped wondering about them. The face they presented to the public, and even to their children, was different from whatever went on behind closed doors. But that was what he had come to expect. Life didn't make sense. You had to make it for yourself.
With a sigh, he ran the brush one last time through his hair, then set it aside. Reaching back, he braided the top layer of hair and smoothed the rest meticulously into place, glancing back out the window. The sun was peaking over the horizon, the sky lighting up with faint traces of pink and orange. Soon it would be time for the assembly to reconvene and Tirion would get his first substantive look at his chances here.
"Whatever they decide this morning," he said quietly to himself, "I will succeed. Of that there can be no mistake."
After a moment more of watching the new dawn, he rose slowly and set about dressing and preparing for the day.
Some time later, when the prince had gone to join the others in the main meeting hall, the door to his room hissed open and someone other than the room's occupant slid inside. The door closed quietly and the new arrival stood for a moment and listened, making sure that no one had followed him. Once he was assured that he was truly alone, he looked about for a certain something: something easy to take, something that would not be missed.
After a perusal of the room's contents, it appeared that the task would be harder than first expected. Everything was disturbingly neat and clearly put into a particular order which, if disturbed, might well be noticed.
"Obsessive much?" the man murmured to himself, his eyes moving from the row of hanging clothes in the closet to the rest of the room. To his chagrin, there appeared to be no personal items of any kind anywhere, even the little things everyone took when they traveled. The most he could find was the hairbrush laying on the table in front of the mirror which would most probably be missed.
He sighed in irritation, muttering under his breath. "‘It'll be a simple job' they said. ‘You won't have any problems' they said. Right. There's nothing here I can take without...wait a moment." Suddenly, something caught his eye and a nasty smile spread slowly across his face. "Well, well...what have we here? Yes...you'll do fine, rightly enough."
Still grinning, he collected what he had seen and, after glancing around to make sure everything was as it had been before, he left as quietly as he had come.
The vote was taken as soon as everyone was together. Despite the rather depressing results, the prince remained surprisingly unfazed. The assembly had been overwhelmingly against amending the treaty in "Doom's" favor and had not been afraid to show it. Even Merla and her nobles had chosen to remain neutral on the issue which was good in that it was not an outright refusal. Of course, it also wasn't any real help. Tirion had not expected much more, though he had to admit to himself that perhaps part of him had been hoping that Merla would be of some assistance. It was apparent, however, that no help would be forthcoming from that quarter just yet.
Out of all those assembled, there was really only one person who had spoken openly for Tirion's cause - the older gentleman from the day before who had been introduced as Ambassador Minitan. Minitan seemed quite willing to give the young prince a chance and had been making an effort to convince others to do the same. Tirion wasn't sure what to make of him. He couldn't understand why the man was trying to help when everyone else was so obviously against anything of the kind. Most diplomats and ambassadors made it their business to know which way the wind was blowing and then find some way to go with it. As far as he could see, there was nothing to be gained by championing Ursan. But, then again, he wasn't going to complain.
It wasn't as if all hope was lost just yet. This vote was simply to give everyone an idea of where things stood. Tirion had until the end of the assembly - a week, perhaps - to see what he could do. Until then, other matters would be attended to until (if) the prince could come up with some other more persuasive argument.
That'll be a laugh. he thought, leaning back in his seat and looking around the table. I can see it in their eyes…the relief…they think they've gotten me out of the way already. Ah well. Let them think I'm beaten. It'll make them feel better to think Lotor's Crown Prince is useless.
From beside him, Minitan seemed to think that Tirion's utter silence and slightly blank expression meant he was feeling badly about what had happened. He caught the young man's attention and smiled in a comforting manner. The prince looked back for a moment, unsure of how to react. He settled for a vague smile of his own, hoping it would reassure the other man that he was taking his rejection well. It seemed to do the trick as Minitan returned his attention to the current speaker.
Tirion sat back in his chair and let the mundane banter around him fade into the background. Possible solutions to the matter at hand rose and fell in his mind, dismissed or set aside, depending on their usefulness. For a moment, his attention was drawn back to the assembly, as a bit of a commotion had arisen around one of the ambassadors who could not find some of his files. He seemed rather distressed about it, saying that there had been important documents in them. The others appeared less concerned. Many of them had misplaced papers of their own, and had little pity to spare for it.
The speaker picked back up where he had left off before the interruption and Tirion lapsed back into his previous thoughts, dismissing the occurrence. As far as he was concerned, it served the man right for being disorganized.
They were not the last documents to go missing. In fact, they were but the first. Initially, everyone was hesitant to take it as anything more than a simple mixup — things were hectic, it was not that much of a stretch to think that papers were merely being lost. The more suspicious among the Assembly, however, were beginning to wonder if it was actually a coincidence or something more.
Tirion was...displeased...by the turn of events. It was bad enough that people didn't trust him from the start, but this would certainly do him no good. Things turned up missing and who would they be first to blame? None other than the part Drule prince of the (ha) planet Doom. He was realist enough to know that he couldn't expect people to be fair and wait for evidence before they thought someone guilty. Why wait when they had a perfectly good suspect sitting right in front of them? And how interesting that nothing of his had gone missing. Puzzling. Curious. Suspicious.
He was beginning to get tired of how they were looking at him. At first it had merely been vague distrust. Now it was something else. Something pointed...as if he had somehow proved them right about all they had been thinking. There was almost a kind of satisfaction in those looks and, for the first time, the Prince was growing uncomfortable. Groundless aggression was one thing but an actual accusation was another.
Negotiations had drawn to a slow stop. Discussions were less and less about trade and business and more about what was going to be done about the "thefts". Finally, after a series of completely unsuccessful meetings, the Assembly was called together for a special announcement.
Everyone was called to silence, their attention drawn from their own small conversations to the tall man standing at the head of the table and gently rapping it with his fist. Seres Esk was the major-domo of the palace where all currently sat, as well as one of the main diplomats for the planet. He had a vested interest in keeping everything in order as not only his job but his home depended on it.
"Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention." he said, his tone somber. "As you all may be aware, a number of unfortunate...instances...have occurred in the past few days..."
"Thefts, you mean." interrupted the ambassador to Astran. There was a murmur of consent.
"These instances," continued Esk, speaking over the rumble of voices, "have yet to be explained. But," he held out his hands to stall further outcries, "But, we will be looking into them. We will be speaking with all those who have had something go missing and try to work out from there what is going on."
"I should hope so!" snapped the same man as before. "I need those papers. They were confidential!"
"As were mine." spoke up one diplomat.
"And mine." from yet another.
There was another undercurrent of muted assent.
Esk frowned. "As I said, we will be pursuing this with all due seriousness. When we discover anything of interest, we will announce it. Until then," he fixed everyone with his gaze and emphasized each word, "no action is to be taken against anyone without reasonable evidence. May I remind you all that we are here in peace, not war. Our primary concern should be amending the treaty. This other matter will be taken care of as expediently as possible, I assure you. But, until then, please try to remember why you have come."
The room was surprisingly silent as those present thought over his words. A moment later, he spoke again. "I think, perhaps, it would be best to adjourn until tomorrow. Indeed it may later require you to stay a few extra days to make up the time, but I fear little will be accomplished today. Go and be assured that the matter at hand is well taken care of."
With that, Esk left the room, soon followed by the other members of the Assembly, all talking amongst themselves. Tirion let the majority of them go before rising and walking thoughtfully to the door. As he was going out, someone shouldered roughly past him, turning only long enough to cast one suspicious and hostile look over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.
The prince watched the retreating form of Lieutenant Andros with an expression of mild irritation. Despite all efforts to the contrary, he could feel his temper beginning to stir. It took a conscious effort to unclench the fist at his side, something which only served to annoy him more. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. How well he knew that anger would get him nowhere. Especially when it was what men like Andros wanted from him.
"I don't have time to give any such satisfaction." he murmured quietly to himself. Better to just keep his temper in check. That feat alone would send all those who thought he was just like his father to new peaks of incredulity. There were more important things to think about.
So, they were going to investigate the thefts, were they? Perhaps he would do a little investigating himself. That way, at least there would be one person out there who didn't have himself at the top of the list of suspects.
