Spoiler warning: The Great and Noble House of Gand contains spoilers for all episodes of Supergirl through 02x17 Distant Sun.

Warnings: The story contains imprisonment, isolation, and desperate heartbreak as well as psychological coercion, mental abuse, and physical abuse, which take place in the past (including childhood) as well as the present.

Canon-divergence: Canon-divergent from 02x17 Distant Sun. Once Mon-El returned to the Daxamite battle cruiser, the DEO possessed no means to rescue or to contact him; thus, the King and Queen leave Earth's galaxy with their Prince locked in a detainment cell.

The Great and Noble House of Gand
Chapter One: Duress

I have to get out of here.

Mon-El perched on the edge of his seat, anxious and ready. His recent experiences with confinement had only served to make him wary of cells and prisons. As soon as the door had locked, all he could think about was getting out. Every time he tried to calm down, panic would overwhelm him, and there would only be one thought in his head.

I have to get out of here.

But it wasn't the cell that was eating at him. With every passing second, he was moving farther and farther from Kara Zor-El, and he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to live with the fact that he'd never see her again. He didn't know it, but he was still holding out hope that some last-ditch rescue mission might remedy his fate.

Then he felt the primary thrusters kick on in full force, and his heart cracked with the realization that there was no escape. He'd never see Kara, J'onn, Winn, James, or Alex ever again. He closed his eyes and pictured his friends and the woman he loved, and while their parting conjured up a storm of sorrows the likes of which he had never before known, the image of their faces inspired him.

What would Kara do?

The answer was obvious: she'd fight back. She'd keep fighting until she found a way to rescue those in danger. So what he needed to know was, what was he fighting? And who was he fighting for?

Mon-El loved Kara, but if he fought against his parents' will to return to her, it would do nothing but put her and everyone else in danger. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't fight for his return to Earth, but he needed something to fight for. Something important. Something bigger than himself.

My people.

That was what had landed him in this cell to begin with, trying to make his father see reason. What could be more important than ensuring a better future for his people? That was worth fighting for, certainly.

Then he thought about what he was up against. While millennia of Daxamite history and tradition informed their politics and culture, ultimately those in power manipulated those things to stay in power, which made his parents the real obstacles. His father wasn't interested in change, but his mother had decided his ideas were tantamount to criminal heresy, an offense that Daxam did away with centuries ago. His mother was the one who wanted him in this cell because she believed it would "cure" him of his strange beliefs.

That didn't make sense. Even if she kept him in this cell for the next four years, did she really expect him to emerge from his incarceration as the Prince of Daxam she desired? His mother was many things, but she wasn't a fool. Did she plan to threaten another bounty on Kara every time he stepped out of line?

No, she couldn't - or at least wouldn't - not after his father his father gave his word.

She expects me to break.

The thought hit him like a freight train. She had raised a privileged boy who craved luxury and comfort. Before he escaped in that Kryptonian pod, he would've begged his parents' forgiveness after being stuck in this cell for just an hour. He would've made apologies and promises, whatever it took to get back to his plush bed and all the ale he could ever drink.

But that was the man she had raised: careless, voracious in every appetite, easily manipulated. She saw him behaving differently on Earth and assumed it was a fluke, a lie, a temporary inconvenience to her plans. She assumed that he was still the weak-willed Prince who would fall apart at the first sign of hardship.

Right now, he was fighting his mother's antiquated perception, the one that said he'd crumble under confinement and discomfort. And if he was being honest with himself, there was part of him that wanted to fall apart, and the thought of never seeing Kara again was more than enough to lay him low for all his days. Wouldn't it be better if he hollowed himself out and became the grim-faced Prince of Daxam that never smiled, danced, or loved? Would that not be an adequate punishment for his mother's transgressions?

This is not about punishing Mother, he reminded himself. This needs to be about the people of Daxam. So what would Kara do?

Mon-El knew that she would never take the easy way out, and she would certainly never do so to punish one person at the expense of so many others. He needed his mother to see who he had become, which meant he couldn't fall apart or break.

He turned and examined his cell. It was larger than the one Cadmus had stuck him in and more comfortable than the one he'd been in briefly at the DEO. There was a decent, single-sized bed bolted to the wall. He moved to it, his legs trembling in the wake of his tumultuous emotions. He stretched out and tried to calm himself, willing his muscles to relax as he focused on his breathing.

I can't break. Kara wouldn't.

He closed his eyes, but it did little to quell the fear and heartache raging inside him. So he made a promise on his love of Kara Zor-El that he wouldn't give up, break, or shut down.

He wasn't sure how long his resolve lasted, but it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes. He couldn't stop thinking about how every passing minute separated him from the Earth by light years. It was as if the reality of the situation was sinking in my millimeters, doubling and redoubling the pain. As soon as he thought he had it under control, he realized that he'd never get to tell Winn he had finally seen Star Wars, or that he'd never have a chance to help James win during a board game night. After all, it wasn't just Kara. Today, all the good people he'd ever known became memories to him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

So he couldn't fall to pieces, not today of all days. He had to keep it together, even if that meant staying strong just for one day. If it was too much to bear, he could crumble tomorrow.

For some reason, that last thought provided him with fleeting relief. He couldn't handle the idea of never seeing Kara or any of the others, let alone the prospect of a four-year journey in this cell. But he could hold on for today at least, and maybe the day after, and maybe the next day, too.

Mon-El would keep pretending he was strong, and then maybe, one day, he'd be a hero worthy of his friends' memory... and a Prince worthy of his people.

Author's notes: Obviously this is going to be a dark and stormy fic, but it kept on nagging me to be written and just wouldn't go away. So, here it is! There will be many happy Earth flashbacks to balance out the darker parts of the fic, but other than that, it will focus on Mon-El and the great and noble houses of Daxam. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and will check back soon for the next.