There but for a Prince.
Authors Note: I haven't read much MOTU fanfic, so I apologise if there is a fic out there with a similar plot. This is set in the 80s MOTU-verse.
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The dawn was red – blood red. Billows of smoke obscured the sky as the city burned, the sun a baleful red eye as it emerged over the horizon.
The war was over and defeat echoed soundly through the halls of Eternia. Signs of destruction were everywhere, defenses broken, blood spilled and bodies scattered. Defeat – it was in the smoke that hovered disconsolately over the broken battlements, in the silence that permeated the city and in the air of desperation that lingered over the survivors.
The inhabitants of the city, or that which was left of them, were gathered before the entrance into the Royal Palace. No longer did the Royal Standard of King Randor fly from the towers, and it was not their beloved King who stood before them.
Skeletor, resplendent in black armor, stood and surveyed the huddled survivors before him. All were bloodied, dirty and most importantly, broken. Victory, at last, was his.
Behind him, under armed guard were Randor, his queen and the surviving 'masters'. They were on their knees, bound and helpless. Defiance sparked from a few eyes, but Skeletor knew it would not last long and the sweet taste of triumph filled him.
There was no sound from the gathered people, nor from the prisoners, and only the snap of Skeletor's midnight black cape billowing behind him broke the stunned silence. Eventually, a movement broke the stilled tableau and a few people turned to watch Tri-Klops shove his way through the crowd, its guards and eventually come to stand before his Master.
"Well?"
Tri-Klops radiated unease, and his eyes swiveled nervously before settling on his round one. "There is no sign of him, Master. No body, no trail, nothing," he reported mechanically.
The fixed expression on Skeletor's face did not change as he lowered his havoc staff and blasted Tri-Klops off his feet and into Cobra Khan. "Fool! My victory is not complete until I have everyone – EVERYONE – including that bumbling idiot Prince Adam at my feet! Now get back out there and keep looking – he can't have got far!"
Evil-Lyn, her normal sneer of derision absent, slide up behind Skeletor and hissed, "Perhaps the coward is hiding inside Grayskull?"
Still staring straightforward and seeming to drink up the sight of his enemies cowering before him, Skeletor laughed, "Grayskull? That moldy old hut won't stand for long. Soon I'll have the Sorceress kissing my feet and if that numbskull Prince is hiding there, he'll join his father – in chains."
Evil-Lyn took an involuntary step back as Skeletor spun to face her, the unnatural green light of his eyes giving her a sickly glow. "I think it's time Randor started making amends, don't you?"
Numbly, she nodded, ill at ease with the power Skeletor radiated at her. "Get all the commoners locked up and have Randor and his boobs brought to the throne room – I feel … anxious to address some issues"
Trap-Jaw and Merman lept to obey without Evil-Lyn even directing a nod at them, and Skeletor swept grandly off towards the throne room, trailed by his triumphant minions, and overwhelmed captives.
Teela had managed to get near her father in the shuffle of prisoners and smiled weakly at Mekanek who allowed her to slip past him. Man-at-Arms was a mess, a long spray of blood covered his face, and one eye was swollen shut. Teela tried to see if he was hurt anywhere else, but her father's fixed gaze on something in the distance drew her attention.
They were passing through the inner courtyard of the Royal Palace, or rather what was left of it. It was a scene of utter destruction. But it wasn't the smashed walls, or ripped flagstones that drew Man-at-Arms gaze.
Rather, it was the bloody sight in the middle of the wrecked courtyard. Blood-matted green and gold fur stiffened in the rising dawn breeze. A widening pool of blood grew beneath the pair of broken bodies, golden tanned skin loosing its healthy hue at the approach of deathly pallor. Plaintively, an outstretched hand sought a sword in vain, the fingers inches from a broken blade. Blood-reddened blonde hair hid a vacant, lifeless gaze.
Man-at-Arms was glad that he could not see He-Man's face. He had only see a small portion of the epic battle between He-Man and Skeletor before he had been knocked unconscious, but it had been enough. The earth itself had shaken the courtyard to rubble as the arch-enemies clashed and it was only when he was dragged roughly to awareness by the pain of his injuries that Man-at-Arms was able to see the end result of that battle. And it was not what he had been expecting.
He-Man was dead.
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Victory.
The sweet, sweet taste of victory filled his being and Skeletor was quite possibly the happiest creature on Eternia. It was more than a slight possibility, it was almost a fact. He fought the urge to hum, as it certainly wasn't fitting that the new Ruler of Eternia, his power unchallenged and unstoppable would hum like a country bumpkin, but the urge remained. While that and the fact that he didn't have lips or a nose with which to hum.
In particular, what pleased him most of the view before him. The throne room of Eternia filled with his men, with him lounging in Randor's seat, with the former-Masters arrayed before him and Randor, the fallen, in chains. It was a very nice view indeed.
His plan could not have gone better. And now, ultimate victory was but heartbeats away. He was just missing one small, cowardly prince and then… complete and utter victory. For a moment, Skeletor considered beginning the celebration early, after all how hard could it be to find the infamously yellow buffoon? The man was probably hiding under his bed, or in a cupboard somewhere. Or maybe he had fled with that stupid tiger of his and was even now being pursued by his troops. Yes, it wouldn't be long now.
At that precise moment, the doors to the throne room were thrown open and Skeletor knew that victory was in his grasp. As Evil Lyn strode through the room, alone, he felt his grip on victory slip a little.
Evil Lyn approached the throne without any of her usual arrogance or pride. She actually seemed… scared. Deciding that he was the obvious source of her fear, as after all, he was now the most powerful being on the planet, he snapped, "Well?"
Evil Lyn, mistress of arcane magic and the occasional successful spell, squirmed. "We cannot find him, Master Skeletor. We have searched everywhere, I have cast every locator spell I know and nothing.. it's like he's vanished or …."
"WHAT?"
His roar drew every gaze, but Skeletor was too furious to care. "You can't find him? You, Evil Lyn, cannot find the stupidest, most incompetent prince this planet has ever known?"
She nodded, reluctantly and tried to explain, "It's like he's vanished or…"
"I Don't Care!" If she could have, Evil Lyn would have taken a few steps back, but the sight before her transfixed her to the spot. Normally, her boss's tirades bored her but the towering inferno of fury before her was terrifying.
"FIND HIM!" Skeletor's roar now sent her stumbling backwards and she hastily nodded her head, trying to move further away. But Skeletor was up and off his throne, moving towards her. Fear unlike anything she had felt before clutched at her heart. She stumbled and landed on her backside, her gaze still drawn to Skeletor, and she tried to inch her way backwards as he drew nearer.
"I have Randor in chains! The Sorceress is a pile of feathers in Grayskull! The 'Masters' are finished. I killed He-MAN! And you cannot find one cowardly Prince!"
Shaking her head, still crawling on her butt, Evil Lyn stammered, "But why.. Master.. why do you need him? As you say, he is nothing.. no one… not important.. why…?"
Skeletor's yellow skull was suddenly in her face as he yanked her to her feet and bellowed, "Because I require it! All of my enemies must either be dead… or here, kneeling at my feet. ALL of them, including Prince Adam!"
"But, but… Master.. Lord Skeletor… he's…"
"NOW!" Skeletor's roar filled the throne room and sent Evil Lyn scuttling towards the doors. "Dead, alive, in pieces! I don't care – just get him here before sunset!"
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The sky was beautiful.
Simply and utterly.
Clouds stretched across the heavens in long streaks, as if some divine hand had gently brushed them aside to better see the pink blue sky behind. The tops of the clouds were painted in yellows and oranges, while the lower halves still picked up the deeper blues and purples of the growing twilight sky.
Sunset was upon Eternia. And it was beautiful.
Queen Marlana watched the setting sun with growing hope. Normally one couldn't watch the sun set from the throne room, but Skeletor's recent use of his havoc stick had given the throne room a sky light and several large 'windows' with which to watch the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon.
'Please be alive, Adam, please.'
Her desperate silent plea was in part echoed by Skeletor, who was now pacing in front of his throne. He was not particularly skilled at waiting and his thoughts were entirely encompassed around the incompetent prince of Eternia and his current location.
'Hopefully in tiny pieces scattered across… no… here, in front of me where I can personally crush that sniveling face into nothing.'
The sun was moving at far too rapid a pace for his liking and no amount of threats or havoc blasts at the shining orb slowed its progress in the slightest. He was running out of time.
Skeletor, Master and Lord – no King of all Eternia, at last, finally, took a moment to drink it all in. He was here, in the throne room. Randor was in chains – nice, tight, uncomfortable chains, regretting every act of defiance. The Masters were – and Skeletor laughed aloud, startling a few of his prisoners, the Masters were masters of nothing save their own misery. Grayskull crushed, Sorceress dead and sweetest of all – oh how sweet – He-Man was dead.
Yes, He-Man was dead. Feeling a little better and deciding to have a little faith in his own marvelous plan and to a lesser extent, his stupid minions, Skeletor decided to try and relax.
Which is why he just about jumped two feet when the sound of a soft gong echoed through the throne room.
"No, no. It can't be – I must have more time. More time!" The sun however was is no position to oblige and was beginning to sink beneath the horizon. "No. NO!"
Another soft gong echoed, louder this time, filling the room with rebounding echoes. Skeletor quickly ascended his throne and sat down, trying to look calm.
Beastman and Merman arrived just in time to hear the third and final gong, and when Skeletor saw that they had returned empty handed, his fixed grin became all that more false.
As the echoes from the last gong faded, a bright green light grew near the base of the throne and eventually faded to reveal two figures in blood red robes. A deep voice intoned through the room, "The Feyra, Masters of the Infinite, Lords of the 5th Level, greet Lord Skeletor."
Skeletor inclined his head regally and said, "Welcome, Masters. It is an honour."
The first robed figure, covered head to foot in red, said hollowly from beneath its hood, "The time to reconcile our bargain is at hand, Lord Skeletor. Be prepared."
Skeletor, only half paying attention to the robed figure, nodded while he watched as Evil Lyn and Tri-Klops arrived – with no Prince Adam.
Again the first Feyra spoke, "Have you fulfilled your side of the bargain?"
Faking a smile was easy for Skeletor and he did so now, "Yes, Masters. I have."
The Feyra seemed to look around the throne room although no one could see eyes beneath the hood and it laughed hollowly, "So it would seem. Let us examine the terms of our bargain."
Skeletor shifted uncomfortably in this throne and shot a look at Randor, who was kneeling a few feet away, bowed under by a pile of chains. The sight seemed to calm him and he nodded.
"You came to us, who are Masters of the Infinite, and said that if we granted you the power to defeat your enemies, you would be able to do so from Midnight to Sunset. At sunset, your enemies would either be dead or at your feet awaiting your pleasure."
The collected prisoners and minions all stared at Skeletor, who nodded again. The Freya continued, "Your terms for the price of failure were unacceptable, and we stipulated our own – to which you agreed."
Every eye still rested on Skeletor, and those who knew him best could see his unease at the mention of failure and its consequences.
"Have you fulfilled your part of the bargain, Skeletor?"
Silence hung in the air for but two seconds before Skeletor intoned confidently as if it were set in the every stones themselves, "Yes."
The Freya remained silent at this pronouncement and again the first broke the silence, "All enemies, Skeletor? All? You have accounted for all enemies?"
"Yes."
A deep, dreadful laugh came from the second Freya, who raised its hand towards Skeletor and pointed a long, thin green finger at him and said, "Liar."
It drew a scroll from within its robes and unrolled it slowly. "Your bargain with us was for all enemies, Skeletor. All."
The Freya let the scroll fall to the floor with a clatter and as it did so, it began to glow red. "It says you are lying, Skeletor. Lying."
Skeletor shot a glance to the back of the throne room and felt his heart falter at the sight of all of his minions, ALL of them, back and emptied handed.
"I am certain that the last is dead. Certain – he can't have escaped."
This time both Freya laughed and the first said, "You are not uncertain otherwise the scroll would know. You have failed to fulfill your half of the bargain Skeletor."
"No!"
Skeletor was on his feet, havoc staff pointed at the Freya. His impressive stance was ruined by the slight uneven shake of the staff. "That bone-head buffoon is dead! And I am not going to let you take this from me, simply because those idiots can't find his body!"
The second Freya brought its hands together in a resounding clap and Skeletor fell to his knees, gasping in pain as unseen hands relentless pushed him down. The Havoc staff fell from suddenly nerveless hands and Skeletor struggled to remain upright enough to glare at the Freya.
"NO!"
"But yes, Skeletor. You have failed to keep your bargain and as such, the events of today will be undone. It will be as if they never occurred. And you, will face our terms."
"NO!"
The Freya ignored Skeletor as he screamed and thrashed, trying to escape the powerful hands that held him prisoner. "I just need more time – a little more."
A hollow gong rang through the air, followed by another and then a third. Each time it rang, Skeletor screamed and tried harder to escape. As the third gong faded, a bright red light filled the throne room, blinding everyone and when it faded, the Freya were gone.
And so was Skeletor.
Slowly, King Randor stood, free of his chains, and looked around the throne room. Skeletor's men were gone, as was all the damage from the battle. Everyone else was also standing, and a stunned silence filled the room.
Finally, Randor sighed, "The Elders have spared us this day. That was too damn close."
There was no resounding cheer or jubilant celebration – it really had been too close. Queen Marlana was the only one who laughed and said, "Thank the Elders that Adam escaped. My son saved us. My son!"
Man-at-Arms, his arm wrapped tight around his daughter walked out of the throne room, needing to see if everything really was restored.
Teela clung close to her father, fighting the need to cry, not knowing if it was from relief or lingering terror. The pair reached the covered bridge that connected the throne room to the rest of the palace. The bridge had a fantastic view of the Royal Courtyard below and of the distant horizon. The sun had set but there was still enough light to see a tall blond warrior walking across the courtyard, followed a mighty battlecat.
He-Man seemed to sense their regard and he looked up. They were too far away to see his face but they both returned his small wave.
It was then, that Teela started to cry.
Fine.