Author's note: this story is based on the 2002 incarnation of "He-Man." In this incarnation, Adam is 16 years old, as is Teela. That's the only major difference you need to know. Enjoy!

"Adam!"

Teela's voice echoed through the stable. There was no other sound, apart from the soft whinnying of the horses.

"Adam, come on! Your father wants to see you!" No response came.

Hmm, Teela thought, flipping her long red hair out of her face, Maybe he's not in here after all. Then she heard a sound—an almost imperceptible sound coming from the back of the stable. She strode carefully across the dirt floor, stopping in front of a large pile of hay. She listened again.

Yes, the sound was coming from the pile. Teela peered behind the hay and grinned at what she saw: a young man, with hay stuck in his blond hair, snoring peacefully.

"I thought so," Teela muttered, detaching a short stick from her belt. With the press of a button, the stick extended into a 6-foot staff used for combat. Or in this case, for waking up royalty.

"Ow!" Adam snorted as the staff jabbed his side."Wha—who—?"

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to get up."

"Was the poking really necessary?" Adam grumbled as he got to feet.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not really..."

"Then yes, it was necessary," Teela teased. She knew from Adam's poorly-concealed grin that the prince wasn't really annoyed. "The king is wondering where you are. He wants to be sure you'll be ready for the banquet."

Adam's grin disappeared. "The banquet?"

"Yes, the banquet. The one that's starting in an hour? King Randor's worried that you forgot about it."

"How could I forget about it? It's all he's talked about for the past week!" Adam sighed. "He's so worried about making a good impression. If I have to hear one more lesson about royal etiquette, I'm gonna scream!"

Teela patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I'll go tell him that you'll be ready in time. Just don't be late, okay?"

"I won't," Adam assured her as she left. He looked back at the hay pile and sighed. "I guess we'd better go get ready, huh, Cringer?"

A soft "mew" was all he got in reply. The pile of hay shook as Adam's pet rose out of it. Anyone who'd heard it meow would have thought the animal was a mere house-cat. But the hay fell away to reveal a fierce-looking green tiger. The ferocity was only skin-deep, though: Cringer was as docile as a kitten and scared of his own shadow. Despite that, he was Adam's best and most loyal friend.

"I wish Father wouldn't get so worried," Adam muttered to Cringer, scratching the tiger behind the ears. "I mean, I know he thinks I'm irresponsible, but does he really think I'd skip out on him tonight? I know how important this banquet is to him."

Cringer nodded sympathetically. He padded after Adam as the prince left the stables. Adam thought with chagrin about the many instructions he'd been given for tonight. Be polite; don't forget the royal etiquette; comb your hair and for goodness sake, wear something nice! You're the future king of Eternia, you must look the part.

It's like Father doesn't trust me to do anything right, Adam thought with a sigh, I don't see what the big deal is anyway. Appearances don't prove anything; Cringer is proof enough of that. Still, he planned to follow his father's advice down to the last detail. He was going to be a proper prince for once.

That was the plan. But it is said that even the best plans are bound to go awry. Adam was soon to discover the truth of this statement.

Adam looked at himself in the mirror. A heavy jeweled medallion hung around his neck. In place of his usual garb, he wore a dark green vest richly trimmed with embroidery. The pants were a matching color, and even the black boots had green trim. Adam had wondered why his father chose these colors. The green hides the tiger fur, was Randor's answer. Adam still wasn't sure if he was joking. He smoothed his hair down, checking one last time for any pieces of hay that might be stuck in it. He went over a checklist in his head. Nice clothes, check; clean face, check; neatly combed hair, check. As far as Adam could tell he was perfectly presentable, even by his father's standards.

"What do you think, Cringer?"

The tiger was dozing on Adam's bed. He cracked open an eye and meowed to show his approval.

"Good to hear. I wish you could come, buddy." Adam rubbed the tiger's ears affectionately. "I'll try to sneak some meat out for you. If I don't fall asleep from boredom."

Adam!

Adam looked up sharply. He'd heard a voice call his name. A woman's voice. He knew that voice, and he knew what it meant.

"Sorceress? What's wrong?"

A city in Tyra is being attacked—it's Skeletor's forces. The woman sounded as though she was standing next to him, but Adam knew the voice was in his own head. The Sorceress of Castle Grayskull usually contacted him telepathically when his help was needed. Or rather, when He-Man's help was needed.

Adam drew his sword. Cringer cowered at the sight of it.

"Sorry, Cringer. We've got work to do." Adam laughed and held the sword aloft. "By the power of Grayskull!"

The sword crackled with energy as its magic was summoned. A brilliant white flash filled the room. Adam felt the power of Castle Grayskull surge through his body. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help grinning

Excellent, he thought with anticipation, Some fun before the banquet.

Outside, one of the royal guards stood attentively. He scanned the palace grounds carefully for signs of danger. Behind him, he suddenly heard the pounding of paws on the courtyard stones. He spun around.

"Who goes there-" the guard gasped as a huge green beast stopped beside him. It was a tiger, a massive tiger with red armor and saber teeth. Riding the beast was a tall man who seemed to be all muscle. Even if the guard hadn't recognized him, the man's air of authority was enough to command respect.

"He-Man!" The guard gasped, and quickly saluted. The man nodded in reply and bounded away. The guard stared after him.

That was He-Man! The guard thought in shock. The greatest hero in Eternia! What's he doing here? And more importantly, where is he going?

He-Man rode away from the palace, unaware of the confusion he'd caused the guard. According to the Sorceress, the trouble was at a city twenty miles north. He-Man had been there before; it was an industrial town, known for producing high-quality mechanics. The palace bought most of its technological components there. Still, it didn't seem like something Skeletor would target.

On the other hand, He-Man reminded himself, Skeletor's getting more creative all the time. If he's planning something, it's bound to spell bad news for the rest of Eternia. Whatever it is, I'll put a stop to it.

He-Man paused and glanced back at the palace. I just hope it doesn't take too long, he thought.

An hour later, the banquet was in full swing at the Palace. The greatest authorities in Eternia wandered through the Throne Room, mingling in the stiff, formal way that authorities do. The music was beautiful, the food was delicious, and everyone was enjoying themselves.

Well, almost everyone. One person was becoming more and more frustrated as the minutes crept by. And that person was sitting on a throne.

"He's still not here," King Randor muttered as he scanned the room. On the throne next to him, his wife tried to hide her own uneasiness.

"Calm down, Randor," Queen Marlena whispered. "I'm sure he's on his way. Look, there's Teela now, I'll bet she's found him."

Randor stood up expectantly as Teela ran up to his throne. But the look on her face betrayed the news she brought.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Teela whispered to the king, "I've searched the whole palace and I can't find Adam anywhere."

Randor sighed. "Did you check the stables?"

Teela nodded. She looking irritated, though she tried to conceal it. "I don't know why he's so late—he swore he'd be here."

"That's all right. Thank you, Teela." Randor sighed. He scanned the room again. His son was nowhere to be seen among the guests. This was exactly what the king had been afraid of. Adam had an unfortunate habit of disappearing whenever something was expected of him. And now, despite the many reminders Randor had given him, he was absent from the banquet. Randor had half-expected this all week, but still—he'd hoped that for once, his son would follow through with his commitments.

Just once, Adam, Randor thought with disappointment. Is it really so terrible to spend an evening by your father's side? Is that really so much to ask?

Randor let out a deep sigh. He leaned back in his throne and tried to hide the frustration building inside him.

He-Man slammed into the ground, leaving a crater in the rock beneath him. Through the haze of pain, he could see a gryphon above him flying away—Beastman and the others making their escape. He groaned. This battle was not going the way he'd wanted. Not only were the bad guys escaping, but the giant serpent that Beastman had summoned was proving stronger than anticipated. It towered over him, readying for the final strike.

Just as the serpent lunged, He-Man rolled out of the way. The monster's head slammed into the ground next to him, sending up a shower of dust and rock shards. He-Man snatched up his sword as the serpent wheeled to face him.

"Battlecat!" He-Man called. In response, the green tiger let out a roar and pounced on the serpent's face. The monster writhed back and forth to shake the cat off, but Battlecat held fast. While the tiger distracted it, He-Man grabbed the serpent's tail.

"Bon voyage, beastie," he grunted, and flung the serpent with all his might. It shrieked as it hurtled through the air into the depths of the forest. He-Man heard as satisfying crash as it landed among the trees.

"Well," He-Man remarked, panting for breath, "He won't be bothering us for a while." He examined the battle site grimly. Skeletor's cronies had damaged one building, but luckily the fight hadn't done too much harm. One of the villagers ran up, her face smudged with dust.

"Well done, He-Man," she said gratefully. "I shudder to think what damage those hooligans would have caused if not for you."

"Thank you, ma'am. Do you know what they were after?"

The woman shook her head. "I just saw them flying off with some metal thinga-majig. Although," she paused thoughtfully, "there's a rumor that the factory's been working on some special new machine—that might have something to do with it."

He-Man considered this. A new machine of some sort—that did sound like a good clue. This called for further investigation. He needed to get back to the palace and talk to Man-at-Arms; he'd know about any new technology in the works. He-man bid the woman good-bye and raced away.

"What's Skeletor up to?" He-Man murmured as Battlecat bounded back toward the palace. "If I knew what they'd stolen, that would be something; but a vague rumor about a new machine isn't very helpful. Still, better than nothing, I guess." Battlecat said nothing, of course, but He-Man didn't really expect a reply. He pondered the situation all the way home. Then as the palace appeared on the horizon, something hit him like a ton of bricks.

The banquet.

He-Man was horrified. The battle with Skeletor had completely pushed the banquet out of his mind! It was nearly sunset when he'd left. By now, the sky had darkened and the moon shone down from the horizon. How long had he been gone? How long ago did the banquet start? It didn't matter either way; the point was that now he was late. Incredibly, undeniably late.

"Faster, Battlecat!" he cried. The tiger nodded and doubled his speed, but it was still not fast enough for He-Man. With every passing second now, his anxiety grew. How could he have been so stupid? Granted, he'd been battling evil villains, but he couldn't tell his father that, now could he?

What am I going to tell him? He-Man thought as the tiger halted just outside the palace gates. He-Man leaped off.

"Let the power return!" he whispered, grabbing the hilt of his sword. There was a flash of light, and suddenly Prince Adam stood where He-Man had been. He raced through the palace gates and across the courtyard, dodging guards and servants. As he entered the hallway, he nearly crashed into Teela.

"Adam! Where have you-"

"Sorry, can't talk now!" Adam called over his shoulder apologetically. Teela yelled something, but Adam didn't hear it. After what seemed like an eternity, he arrived at the doors of the throne room. He paused to catch his breath. Part of him dreaded entering the room. Randor would be furious at his tardiness.

But better late than never, right? Adam thought hopefully. He straightened up, brushed off the embroidered vest, flattened his hair again. The doors to the throne room seemed like the jaws of a terrifying monster. Adam touched the handle; took a deep breath, and gingerly cracked open the door.

Silence met him. Adam pushed the door further and entered the room. The debris of a celebration littered the floor. A table held numerous platters for food but, except for crumbs, they were all empty. So was the room—absolutely empty.

Empty, except for the throne set up across from Adam. A middle-aged man in regal garments was seated on it. He stared at the ground, gripping his face as if he had a headache.

"Um..." Adam fidgeted uncomfortably, "Am I late?"

The man on the throne looked up. He stood and approached Adam. His expression was like a stone wall.

"No, Adam," he said calmly, "You are not late. It's one thing to arrive to an event late. It's quite another to miss it entirely." It was hard to look Randor in the eye; his eyes held a mixture of disappointment and sadness that made Adam feel like a criminal.

"Father, I..." Adam struggled to find the right words. He wanted to explain how he'd meant to attend, that he'd wanted so badly to make his father proud tonight. But anything he said would sound empty unless he also explained the truth. And in this case, the truth was off-limits.

"I'm so sorry." was all he could say.

Randor sighed. He began pacing back and forth, hoping the action would help him keep his feelings under control.

"I know you're sorry, Adam," he began, "You're always sorry. Every time I remind you of your responsibilities, you tell me how sorry you are and you promise to do better. But then the next day you act exactly the same! Napping in the stables, disappearing for hours at a time doing who-knows-what while your duties go unattended." Randor spun around and stared at his son frustratedly. "You say you're sorry, but you never actually change!"

"I do!" Adam insisted. "I mean, I don't just goof around all day! I help make repairs, I train-"

"Yes, I'm fully aware of how well you train. Like last month, when you were supposed to be learning the royal etiquette. I found you and Orko having a sword fight with the cutlery!"

Oh, great, that again, Adam thought as his face went scarlet. One butter-knife sword fight and I never hear the end of it.

"Your problem is that you don't take life seriously," Randor continued, "Everything is a big joke to you. You can't treat your responsibilities so lightly, Adam. When you're king, you have to take care of all your duties, you can't leave anything unfinished!"

"I know!" Adam cried with exasperation. And he did know. For months now, he'd carried the burden of Eternia's safety, had fulfilled his duties faithfully even when it interfered with his own life. He knew how difficult responsibility was. If only his father understood that!

But Randor didn't understand. To him, Adam's remark sounded insolent, as if his son was telling him to shut up and leave him alone. Randor was trying so hard to keep calm; but this apparent disrespect pushed him over the edge.

"No, Adam," Randor snapped, "You clearly do not know. If you did, you'd behave like a prince instead of a spoiled toddler. If you understood, you'd be helpful instead of lazing around like a useless lump!"

Randor shook his head in disgust. "Do you realize," he continued, "that while you were goofing off this evening, a real hero was defending the citizens of Tyra? A hero who's risked his life countless times battling the forces of evil? He understands the importance of his job, and I guarantee he takes it more seriously than you take yours. If you were half as dedicated to your duties as He-Man is—"

Randor petered off as he noticed the look on Adam's face.

Adam was fighting to control his expression, but it wasn't working. Hurt and anger raged inside him like a typhoon, screaming to be released. His mouth opened, but he bit his tongue before the indignant words could come out. Instead he whirled around and ran from the throne room.

"Adam!" Randor called, "Get back here! Adam—"

But Adam ran on as if he couldn't hear. Randor watched his son disappear down the hall. He let out an exhausted sigh.

"Teenagers!" he huffed, and stormed away.