See Prologue for disclaimer. I don't own The Emperor's New Groove or Prince of Egypt. Warning for a (squeamish? Mature? IDK) memory at the end.

Chapter 37: The Clause

Eleaniris was roused from her shallow recharge when the metal beneath her shifted. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to yank her out of her slave-less world. She groaned and rested a servo on her face, not wanting to get up and face the world today.

"Good morning, precious. Did you recharge well?" The Decepticon Emperor seemed to be in a good mood, and Eleaniris was sickened by this. It didn't take much for her to hate him nowadays.

She had looked at the datapads he had gifted her, finding that one was devoted to the specifics of her new body and that the rest were history materials as he had promised. Being the history buff she was, she dug into them straight away. They seemed pretty genuine at first, even exciting, and the Empress was pleased to see this. Her beliefs held up until she came across a particular set of battles. Interestingly enough, if one figured out the timelines - since the date was not written explicitly - and put the puzzle pieces together…

Megatron was, essentially, in two places at once.

She had looked at it from so many different angles, hoping that she was mistaken and that he would not mislead her in such a low manner, but no excuses could be found. Yes, he was trying to indoctrinate her. After she deduced this she no longer took the lessons seriously, looking for "plot holes" instead of paying attention to the real history. However, that error was the only one she had found yet; most likely an attempt to cover up the Autobots and that Optimus Prime.

"Yes." She lied for the millionth time, "And you?" She couldn't care less, truly, but perhaps the one way to appease him was to lay it on thick.

He did something resembling a yawn, baring his flesh-shredding denta and almost-roaring while sucking in a long vent. His glossa stretched out and the tip curled slightly, similar to how a lion's would, the metal shiny and slick with the slime that she was far too familiar with. She leaned back slightly, feeling too close to his mouth for comfort. Once his jaws had clicked shut, he answered her with lazily spoken words, "Wondrously, with my Queen present." His optics glowed with the lust that sickened her.

She suddenly remembered an aspect of the document she had sworn to protect. It was so obvious that made her want to slap herself in the forehead - or forehelm, whatever - for not recalling it sooner. "Actually, I can't be your Queen." She tried to be meek and quiet and unassuming, pandering to his dominant side.

Megatron wasn't expecting this but did not let it ruin his mood, raising an optic ridge at her and chuckling at her stubbornness, "And why not?"

Eleaniris sat up straighter on his chest yet still nervously eyed his mouth, "Because Article 1, Section 9, Clause 8 of the United States Constitution says I can't."

"It says that any person in the United States Government cannot accept a title of nobility from a foreign state without the consent of Congress."

The Emperor chuckled, Adorable little thing. He wasn't really listening to her words, instead watching how her hips and chest would shift naturally as she spoke animatedly. Beautiful, and so fragile. Her anger drew his attention, however, and pulled him from his warm, rather X-rated fantasies.

"Since 'Queen' and 'Empress' fall under the category of title of nobility," she was snapping now, "and since you dumped most of my Congress into a pit of sulfuric acid," her words were acidic themselves, strong and biting into his armor, "There is no one to approve of the title, and I cannot be your Queen."

"You're adorable, my dear." He grinned at her, obviously not getting it, "I am glad that I kept you around." He leaned forward slightly and licked at the side of her face affectionately, making her fume more.

"And I am Megatron, precious. I pay no heed to rules." He cupped her back with his servo, suddenly sitting up so that she was lying in his palm. He nuzzled her and purred, his large red optics dimming when they focused on her.

Eleaniris growled in frustration and started to say something, but Megatron interrupted her to tease, "Do that again. It was just so cute." He didn't appear to realize that he was mocking her, continuing with his touches.

Her optics brightened with rage and he laughed, actually laughed, at her defiance. "Your government is gone, my dear. Only mine remains, and therefore only my rules exist."

"I thought you just said that you 'pay no heed to rules'?" She asked incredulously as her chest throbbed at his almost loving caress. Stop it! She was hurt but knew that his words were real, were the truth.

"And you're missing my point. I'm not supposed to be here! I'm supposed to be in my oval office or at the United Nations or in some meeting or other." She looked down and away, not meeting his gaze, "I want my old life back." Eleaniris almost whispered, but said it just loudly enough for him to hear.

"Eleaniris," the tyrant cooed, not liking the distance she was trying to put between them with futile pushes of her small arms, "Accept what you have been given and enjoy it. Accept that you have someone that cares and wants to provide for you," he tried to nuzzle her neck with his nasal plate, but he was much too large to fit. That someone wants to make sparklings with you. "Enjoy the life that I offer, precious, and do not be so hard on yourself."

"Can't you get it? Can't you understand?" She gave up on her fight, allowing him to smother her against his cheek. A dark piece of her didn't know why she fought him anymore; she always ended up in the same place.

Oh wait, maybe it was because he reminded her of all of the ruthless dictators Earth had ever known, wrapped into one package. Yes, that was it. Stalin, Bonaparte, Genghis Khan, all brought together into the monster trying to woo her. Wonderful.

"Please, let my people go." The reluctant-Empress asked, widening her optics and trying to appeal to him. "Please."

His optics narrowed and he withdrew, the air becoming icy and cold, "You are no longer one of them. Your allegiance is to the Decepticons, to me."

He set her down on the berth, stalking to the door. There Megatron stopped and turned to growl angrily, "I will be in Command for the rest of the day. You have free run of the palace, so long as someone is with you."

With that, he left. Strangely, the back of her mind told her that she was being insensitive and hurtful, rude and impolite. She was torn between being angry and being remorseful.

But she supposed that that was what he wanted. She placed her servo over her left wrist, over the bone encased there, and thought fiercely, No. I will never be one of you.

She found Borealis and Wheelie on the floor of the living room, the latter trying to keep the former out of his Energon cube.

"You already had yours, obnoxious beast!" He was pushing feebly at Borealis' large beak, the gryphon ignoring him and lapping at the Energon she could reach. Reminds me of someone and myself.

"Borealis, leave him alone." The two immediately noticed her presence, the gryphon dipping her head and Wheelie smiling while he hastily finished his Energon.

"Who about a trip? We could see about those wings of yours." Eleaniris smiled at Borealis happily, pushing thoughts of Megatron away. It was so exhausting to focus on her hate of him all the time.

'If it pleases you, mistress.' The cool, smooth-as-silk voice spoke in her head.

'No "mistress" stuff, please. Or "Queen" or "Empress."' Eleaniris thought back, walking up to the gryphon and stroking her between the crests on top of her head. She chirped at her, nudging her beak into the Empress' servo.

"Let's see…" Borealis crouched down, lowering so that Eleaniris could settle onto her back. She placed her legs over the hinges of the creature's wings and arranged the front panel of her skirt, tucking it all the way under her and saying "Come on, Wheelie. We'll see how she does." The gryphon peered back to look at her and she smiled affectionately, patting her neck reassuringly.

Wheelie sighed and obeyed the request of his mistress, walking closer so that Eleaniris could pick him up and set him between her legs. He shuddered at the thought of what Megatron would do if he saw his position. Probably squish me like an organic.

"How often have you flown, Borealis?" Eleaniris bit her lip slightly, studying the gryphon's purple optics.

'I flew back when my updates were done, and I have been practicing.'

Satisfied, Eleaniris nodded and grabbed ahold of some of the filaments of her mane. "Try hovering."

Borealis didn't need to be told twice. She launched upwards and flapped her wings vigorously, holding a good height off the ground. Once stabilized, the gryphon stayed in place and looked at her mistress questioningly.

"Good." Eleaniris smiled genuinely, "Do a couple circles or something."

She climbed upwards towards the ceiling and levelled out before turning to fly past the windows, supporting the weight of her mistress and the drone perfectly. They did several loops, Eleaniris relaxing and beginning to enjoy the sensation of the air current passing over her metal. It was eerily similar to a rollercoaster ride, but much smoother.

'Would you be comfortable with leaving this room?' Eleaniris asked in her head, the action starting to become natural, 'Flying in the palace hallways, I mean?'

The gryphon replied, 'Only if you are comfortable, Elle.'

'Much better. And yes, I am. I believe that you have shown your abilities well.'

Borealis sounded sheepish, almost shy, 'You are very kind. Thank you.'

The ride through the hallways was incredibly thrilling. Borealis had to weave between several helms of passing robots, who each gave them quizzical, then amused, looks. Eleaniris needed the company of someone she knew and trusted to help her vent her frustration, which was what had brought her to the library.

She was in luck, as the librarians had no invaders to serve. She had found them sitting on one of the smaller tables in the center of the library, talking animatedly and - to her relief - holding cubes of Energon. At least they are fed, she had thought. The discussion had soon turned to her after the femmes had greeted her, each of them trying to offer assistance of some sort.

"If someone could turn Emperor Kuzco into a llama for me, that would be great." Eleaniris swirled her own cube, watching the contents and sighing. Wheelie, by her side, had to look up what she was talking about. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, agreeing.

Talia giggled at the reference but tried to reassure, "I'm sure that he isn't that bad."

"Well, he isn't. To me." She ran a servo down her face, "I'm just so confused all the time." Borealis, whom Eleaniris was leaning against, chirped and placed her head in her mistress' lap, giving her a hug with a large wing.

"What about?" Sophia asked, leaning forward and looking at her with concerned green optics.

"For one, I don't understand why he does this to me. I mean, why choose me at all?" Eleaniris started her list, keeping her optics on the Energon.

"I don't understand what he is trying to accomplish also. He could be trying to make me into some sort of concubine or he is actually...actually…" She couldn't say the words. The thought of it sickened her, that the alien that conquered and enslaved their planet might be trying to court her and win her affection.

I think I can rule that one out. That's just too wrong.

Wheelie kept his mouth shut. He really couldn't say anything to her; it wasn't his place, as a lowly drone. The matters of royals, like Eleaniris and Megatron, were not his own.

She opted to continue, "On top of all of that, I don't know what to feel about him. On one hand I should hate him for what he has done, what he is still doing, but on the other I should appreciate him for how he treats me." The femmes were completely quiet, their gazes telling her of their sympathy. Eleaniris' vocalizer failed her, and she fell silent. Her emotions were too much for her to go on longer, as she would have normally.

Kimora was the first to speak, the librarian tilting her helm and placing a servo on Eleaniris' shoulder tentatively, "I'm sorry, Eleaniris, but I don't have an answer. Sometimes, these things sort themselves out with time. Just keep fighting, I suppose, and know that we are with you."

She smiled graciously at the yellow-eyed femme, her white optics still sad, "Thank you."

In one of the asiles, Grace slowly turned back around and krept out the door quietly. That poor, poor woman. She had briefly wondered if she should show some support and reveal herself, but the depression and absolute anguish in the room was stifling. Eleaniris was just too upset, and Grace was worried that she might surprise and destabilize her if she showed herself.

A comm. from her alien sweetheart distracted her from her musings.

"Susan, there have been new quarters prepared for you." Grace called to her friend from Soundwave's shoulder, "And we have a new assignment."

Susan's helm peeked from around the cabinet door, greeting her coworker with a grin, "Really? So I can get out of this box?"

Grace giggled, making Soundwave smirk at the delicate sound, "Yeah."

She climbed down from the cabinet and onto the couch, walking up to Soundwave's offered servo and stepping on.

"What's the new project?" Susan was cheerful, yet guarded. She didn't trust the officer one bit, recognizing him but not actually knowing him. If he was anything like his master, though, she knew that she could not spare an ounce of faith in him. In her opinion Grace's relaxed demeanor was a mistake, an irredeemable error on her coworker's part.

The officer that had hosted them carried them out the door, turning to go down the hallway and downstairs. "Remember how we tidied up Eleaniris?"

"Yes." Susan wondered where Grace was going with this.

"Well, evidently Megatron wants us to do the same for the palace slaves." Grace's tone betrayed her surprise and joy at the concept, "Supposedly they are having new uniforms made, and he wants them to look formal." Susan couldn't see her friend, since the robot's head was in the way, but she could hear the shrug in her voice.

"That's….unexpected." Susan was also happy that the slaves would get better conditions, but she still didn't like the thought of them remaining slaves. "I wonder why he did that?"

Soundwave was listening to their conversation as he toted them to the basement but not really devoting any processor space to it. Most of him was thinking about what he would do to Grace when he got rid of this other femme. Mmmm.

"Who knows?" Grace said truthfully. Their enslaver's change in attitude was peculiar and sudden, seemingly without explanation.

Megatron sat on his throne in Command, observing the work of those below his dais while also keeping an optic on his own. He had thought long and hard about what his Queen (her government's rules were inconsequential to him) had said and what could be done to resolve how she was feeling.

On his way to Command that morning, after their fight, he had come across a palace slave. It was small - as all humans were to him, as was his beautiful Eleaniris - and filthy, the too-large, grey uniform hanging off its form like a sack. It had stuttered an apology and skittered out of his way, bowing its head and letting its oily locks drape downwards to hide its gaunt face. He continued on his way, not sparing the human a second glance nor a second thought. The slave was well-behaved and knew its race's place - servitude to himself and his Decepticons.

Normally such an occurrence would not have distracted his attention, but the argument with his Empress (he would call her whatever he pleased) made him reflect on the slave. Its appearance was unfit and completely inappropriate to be in a human palace, much less his. When he arrived in the headquarters for Decepticon Command, which took up most of the first floor of his palace, he had set others to work designing a new palace uniform and comming Soundwave to put his femme back in service.

He propped his chin in a servo, the other holding the datapad containing some report or other. He had no energy to focus on it, however, as his processor drifted back to the place it always went.

Eleaniris.

The Emperor and Supreme Commander of the Decepticons couldn't understand what he was doing wrong. Perhaps he was unintentionally violating some fundamental human courtship rule? Even though he knew his Queen was no longer human - as he told her often - he accepted that she was still raised in their culture, as disgusting he found that thought.

He had watched Soundwave interact with his human, little Grace, the whole time she was in servitude to his Queen. He had kept careful notes of how he treated her and how she reciprocated, wanting to try to mimic them with Eleaniris. So far, none of it seemed to be working. He felt that every time he saw progress with the tiny femme, he ended up going back tenfold the amount of headway he had made.

The Supreme Commander of the billion (and counting, he was pleased to add) Decepticons was struggling to win over a femme the size of his servo.

He had shown her how much he cared, as Soundwave implied he should, but still nothing. He had even cared for her when she was human, given her luxury and a life free of pain.

He was sitting on the throne of his throne room, reclined against the back. His servo was absently stroking the human Eleanor, who was seated on his thigh. She was still a little wild and high-tempered, as he had just caught her a couple of Earth weeks ago, but she was starting to tame down a little.

Much to his pleasure.

He was reading a datapad when a whispered word caught his audio. The female obviously didn't think that he had heard her, her gaze directed away from him. However, she underestimated the superiority of Cybertronian hearing ability.

"Damn." She breathed, shifting uncomfortably on his thigh and tightening her arms around her bare midsection.

He cocked his helm and leaned to look over her, "What's wrong, fleshling?"

She scrambled to place her hands over the apex of her thighs, but the movement was not fast enough to hide the red trickle of blood between her legs. He may not have known much about the human body, but he thought he knew that none of that red fluid should be leaving her body.

At all.

"Its nothing, honestly." She squirmed under his gaze, a grimace crossing her features and she clutched her abdomen tighter.

Did she have a parasite? Was she dying? He didn't know, but replied in a growl, "Blood isn't nothing."

Despite her hasty protests he picked her up and practically ran to the doors, headed for Scalpel. He felt some of the liquid get on his servo but was not disgusted with it as he usually would have been. Instead he felt concern, a deep, clawing worry sliding through his systems. He thought with a start, What if this means that she cannot carry my sparklings?

That ponderance spurred him into an almost-sprint, impatiently punching in the code for entry to the medical bay. "SCALPEL!" he bellowed, making the miniscule scientist jump in his place on one of the side tables.

The "doctor" turned from his vials quickly, standing at attention before his mammoth lord. "How might I se-"

Megatron cut him off, setting Eleanor on the metal before the scientist and pinning her so that her legs were spreadeagle. "She's bleeding, but appears uninjured." Eleanor was fuming, clenching and unclenching her tiny hands, but he paid no mind to her and switched to Cybertronian. "What's wrong with her?"

Scalpel crept between her legs, inspecting her pelvic regions with careful pokes from his long, two-pronged arm. He scuttled to one of the smaller containers on his worktop, removing a probe and holding it over her bare belly. Megatron watched like a cyberhawk, making sure that his future Queen would not be harmed. Scalpel was known to be what the humans called "trigger-happy" and he had seen plenty of human test subjects go to waste before Eleanor was caught, their bodies a chopped up and bloody mess. Some of them were still alive when they were disposed of, and their screams were gurgling instead of sharp and piercing.

The doctor started laughing, an odd sound that was somewhere between high-pitched and normal. "This had better not affect her cyberformation or ability to carry sparklings," he growled dangerously.

Scalpel shook his helm, still chuckling but replying in Cybertronian "It is not a sign of infertility at all, Megatron." He patted Eleanor's belly carefully with one of his minute servos, "It's actually a sign of fertility in human females. She's menstruating."

He narrowed his optics, not really believing him. Scalpel continued, "You should be able to impregnate her. Again, it is a display of fertility. It happens every human month or so, nothing is wrong with her." The scientist again went to one of the boxes of human medical supplies - which Megatron had ordered be fetched prior to Eleanor's capture - and pulled out several items. He handed them to Eleanor, who was shooting him glares of anger and embarrassment. "Those will help her with the pain, and I have pills available to keep this from occurring again -"

"No. It is alright." He collected Eleanor and went up to his apartments, letting her clean herself off in her private bathroom and do the necessary preparation.

Even though he was irked at her pain, none of it came close to the elation at the knowledge that she was fertile. He made her comfortable, even finding a heating pad for her to use at night and oftentimes stroking her until she slept. From that day onwards, every time she would feel those "cramps" he would smile when she wasn't looking. It was, after all, a sign that she could carry and develop his young. Their young.

Eleaniris returned in the afternoon to the quarters with a heavy heart, wondering if Megatron was there yet. A slave had waved her down and given her a message, and she wanted to read it before her captor got back.

Their shared rooms were empty and she sighed in happy relief. Plopping down on the living room couch with Borealis, she opened her subspace and found the pig-latin letter.

Katniss,

Another plague is on the way. But be careful and take heed Mockingjay.

You're playing with the big boys now.

The Council of Nation.

She quickly re-subspaced it and pondered what she had just read. She remembered that sequence of Prince of Egypt perfectly well, and it did not bode well for her.

The Decepticons were, indeed, an enemy to be grappled with. They would try to force her to bow, would promise her a life free of worry, but none of it would make her back down.

She would try her absolute hardest to see that that never happened.

On a side note, the Title of Nobility Clause that Eleaniris mentions is a real thing in the US Constitution. Look it up! Also, I have had a few questions about Megatron's and Eleaniris' sizes. Picture Megatron as his Revenge of the Fallen form and Eleaniris as a human's size. Megatron possess a subspace mass distributor that can only decrease his size, not increase it.

JJAndrews - Hilarious metaphor, by the way! Yes, Susan would not be a happy camper. Thanks for the review!

XxArtes-ZeroxX - Thanks for the continued reviews! Good to hear that so many like Grace and Soundwave. They're just adorable, aren't they?

Than-Guan'Rose - Thanks for the review! Anticipate many more Star Wars references, too!

sakurawriter - I like Thundercracker's character too. Too bad he wasn't in much. As always, thank you so much for your feedback!

Bumbilus Prime - I can feature them when the Autobots do come, if you would like :3. Thanks!

xStormyNightsx - Thanks for the review!

xxyangxx2006 - A crushing blow indeed, both to Eleaniris and to the rebels. We'll see what else they have got up their sleeves, though. Thanks!

I love all of you guys! Please, if you have time, leave a review! Thanks!