A/N: Thanks again for your loyal readership. This is going to be it for a few weeks. Feel free to PM me or ask questions in the Reviews section. :)
Warning: Strong language. You must be at least 16 years of age to read this chapter.
Chapter 21
-Somewhere In The Triangulum Galaxy -
"Status!" Horde Prime barked.
Having been beamed aboard the mother ship, Catra stood at attention, hands clasped behind her back, boots shoulder length apart. She couldn't help but flinch at his sharp tone.
"Your Excellency, your brother hides on Base believing you know nothing of his whereabouts. His concern over Shadow Weaver's apparent illness has mentally paralyzed him. He will not make a move without her. She currently confines herself to her quarters."
Although all she could see was a giant mechanical hand protruding from what appeared to be a black hole but with stars, Catra knew this news surprised him; his hand didn't move.
"The Enchantress is never ill," he said more to himself than her. "What could have possibly transpired that would debase her so?"
Catching the characterization, the feline commander pursed her lips.
It was a well-documented fact that any ailment whether physical or mental, anything less than perfection was deemed by Prime to be a weakness…a lack of character, regardless of whether the onset was the individual's fault or not.
"I'm not sure, Your Excellency."
The throne room shook in response to his agitation, Catra wobbling on her boot heels, her eyes wide.
"Then you had better find OUT, Commander," he growled. "And do not return to me until you have answers!" he barked, banging a fist on the steel platform.
Another wobble at the impact tremor. "Yes, Your Excellency," she quickly curtseyed before backward walking to the guarded doors, curtseying once again before turning and hurrying out.
If I fail, I'm a dead woman.
-Greyskull, Two Weeks Later -
The Sorceress dutifully watched over the prince providing food, water, and medication to facilitate his recovery from...well, being dead quite frankly.
Twice dead if you think about it.
She sighed. She'd much rather had been caring for another Prince, a decidedly blonder one but she quickly dismissed that thought.
Once their sworn Enemy, polite and semi-appreciative this man was no trouble at all; only the occasional suspicious side-eye which, she snorted to herself, the Miro men seemed to master.
One thing seemed off; whenever she walked about the Castle he watched her like a hawk, never taking that unsettling gaze off her.
xx
At dawn, stepping into Veena's chambers she halted bed-side and folded her arms, her eyes assessing him.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
He put a book down and met her gaze, chocolate locking with emerald. "I'm…fine, Madame. Although I still have no clue what's going on."
"That'll come in time," she replied.
Keldor gave a wistful nod, his eyes drifting down to the embroidered comforter. Remembering something, he shifted back to her.
"Where is my father? Why hasn't he come for me?"
The lost and forlorn look in his eyes made something inside of her seed empathy. "Prince Adam will be here in a few hours, Sir. He will explain it to you."
The man took a deep breath and nodded in acquiescence, picking up his book.
"Breakfast in one hour. Do you need anything else?" Teela asked, tilting her head, her eyes narrowed in observation.
He shook his head. "No, Madame. Under no obligation you've taken very good care of this old man. I hope soon to be released so as not to continue to be such a burden."
Straightening, she looked surprised. "Umm…no, not a burden. Just umm…just call out if you need me."
With that, she vanished. Keldor flinched.
"What the hell?" he said more as a statement.
Dressed for Court and sitting on a chaise lounge, Marlena eyed her husband.
"It's been two weeks and no official word from you, darling."
Randor stepped out of their walk-in closet wearing white undershirt and slacks. His eyes meeting hers, he shrugged on a long-sleeved button-down silk shirt.
"I know, Love. It's…I don't know," he shook his head and glanced down, distracted and struggling with the buttons.
His wife stood and crossed the room.
Stepping to him, she buttoned his shirt, his eyes wandering their chambers.
"You'll have to face him sometime, babe," she stated tenderly, her eyes on the buttons as she worked.
He took a deep breath. "I know, Marly," he conceded, "But how…what do you say to the man who robbed us of decades with our children? Who colluded with the enemy to overthrow the Throne?" He frowned. "What the hell do I say to him?"
Finishing, she stepped back and shrugged.
"Hello?"
He gave her an annoyed, "Hah-hah" smirk.
Marlena folded her arms. "Well it's a start," she defended. "Better than this cold war stand-off going on right now."
Another sigh. "Adam sees him today?"
She nodded.
Randor pressed his lips together. Pensive, narrowing his gaze he turned and stepped back into the closet.
-Three Hours Later -
The carriage ride to Castle Greyskull seemed extra-long this morning, Adam eyeing his fidgety father staring unseeing out a window.
"Dad?"
Randor's hazel gaze snapped to his son.
"What's up?"
The King shook his head. "I'm worried."
"About?" Adam asked arching a brow.
"Worried I'll punch the motherfucker's lights out at first glance," he replied bitterly.
The carriage rocked as, pursing his lips, Adam nodded.
"Nydia says talking it out is a good first step."
The two men held gazes, Randor snorting a sarcastic laugh.
xxx
The King, the Prince, and the Sorceress conferred in the Throne Room.
"Where's Adora?"
"She wasn't ready," Adam replied.
The Redhead nodded. She turned to his father.
"How about you, Sir? Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he replied.
The two young people stared at him.
"Umm, Dad?
"What?"
"You look pissed. Very pissed."
Flinching, Randor glanced at him.
"Do I?"
The Sorceress nodded agreement before turning to Adam. "You're a lot like your father in that regard," she said, smirking.
Adam narrowed his gaze at her.
xx
The two men entered Queen Veena's chambers to Keldor who sat fully clothed on the couch reading a novel. Hearing footsteps, he snapped his head to the doorway. His eyes went wide as Randor froze.
"Randor?"
The King's hazel gaze narrowed as it roved over his little brother.
Tossing the book aside, Keldor jumped to his feet squaring his broad shoulders as the two scanned one another; a veritable mirror if it weren't for the difference in colorings.
"Keldor," he replied in dismissive acknowledgement, his tone a bit on edge.
His younger brother eyed him.
"You got old."
"So did you," Randor shot back.
They stared at each other.
"Yes, but you got really old," Keldor taunted.
"Tell me that again when you have children, Kel," Randor retorted, annoyed.
Another silent showdown as Adam's sapphire gaze volleyed between the two men.
"Should we sit or are we going to do this standing?"
That seemed to rouse the brothers from their mutual "trance".
Keldor gestured to the adjacent couches, Randor taking a deep breath and clenching his teeth, his hands balling into fists as he stepped forward and took the proffered seat. His son followed and sat opposite placing the former warlock on the love seat between them.
The room descended into heavy silence.
"What happened to Father, Randy?"
Randor frowned before arching a brow. "He's dead Kel, didn't you know that? Been dead twenty-five years from typhus."
His brother felt a jolt. "Twenty-five—?" he cut himself off, his gaze shifting to Adam then back to Randor. "What happened to me? Why don't I remember anything?"
Adam glanced at the Sorceress.
"By Greyskull's analysis, you were under a spell for at least twenty years, maybe more," she replied walking toward the men. She folded her arms. "We're not sure under whose spell exactly, but you were definitely linked with a sorcerer or sorceress."
His eyes went round. "Why? How?"
Randor silently glared at him.
"Maybe the how was when you met with Commander Hordak," Adam hinted, his eyes observing his uncle's every reaction, looking for a tell.
Keldor whipped his head to his nephew. "Hordak? The idiot from millennia ago?"
He nodded.
"Why would I have any dealings with that riff raff?" he scoffed.
"To purchase sorcerous powers from him, Brother," the King interjected, folding his arms, his features darkening. "You wanted the Throne. You wanted my children out of the picture. You sold them to Hordak and acquired Shadow Weaver's sorcery in return."
His brother's eyebrows flying skyward, he shook his head incredulous. "Treason and sorcery? And who the hell is Shadow Weav—?" he stopped when memories suddenly surfaced, flooding his mind in rapid succession: darkness, shadows, death…chains and imprisonment.
Feeling a migraine returning he grimaced lowering his chin and cradling his head, everyone silently watching him.
Crumpling over he groaned like a wounded animal as the pain increased, the faces of everyone he tormented or killed mercilessly zipping by; a skull cackling, sorcery blazing, mutants howling…destruction rampant. The onslaught abruptly stopped before settling on two newborn fraternal twins.
Sweet…helpless…trusting…
Distraught, Keldor snapped his head to Adam, his deep brown gaze tortured, the younger man knitting his brow in confusion.
"Ancients…," the man mumbled.
Psychically linked to Greyskull and the Sorceress, Adam's features suddenly leveled in understanding.
"What's wrong with him?" Randor asked irritated.
Pale, Keldor buried his face in his hands, his breathing labored.
"The memories are surfacing," Adam replied, his features unreadable.
The Sorceress monitored him as Randor aggressively leaned forward. "So you're recalling all the shit you pulled over the years?"
Adam and the Sorceress exchanged glances.
Dropping his hands and locking gazes with his brother, Keldor slowly nodded.
"Are you truly sorry for what you've done or is this just you bringing drama again?" he demanded, hot.
Annoyed, Keldor frowned before shaking his head, his hands going back to his head, his eyes pinned to the floor.
"This…is not…an act," he winced again in pain.
Simultaneously realizing something, the Sorceress and Adam frowned.
"The Source is trying to reconnect with him," the Redhead shouted, rushing over to him. "They're hacking his brain!"
Randor arched an eyebrow as Adam stood and stepped to his uncle. Assessing him, he placed a hand on the older man before glancing over his shoulder.
"I know this pain, Dad. It feels like knives."
Surprise flickered over his father's features followed by concern. He stood and went to his brother before glancing at the Sorceress.
"What do we do?"
Receiving information from Greyskull, Adam and Teela suddenly looked up and locked gazes.
"Shadow Weaver!" they said in unison.
As Keldor struggled, Randor glanced up at them. "Hordak's witch…?" he trailed off.
"So it's her," Adam said. "She did this to me on Etheria."
"She's the puppet master," the Guardian added, her emerald gaze shifting back down to Keldor, "And she's angry the connection was severed."
"What's she doing to him?"
Adam looked at his father. "When I was chained up, she said she was attempting to modify my brain waves." He looked at his uncle. "She's doing it again…trying to get him back. She's a fuckin' parasite."
Keldor suddenly roared in torment, jumping to his feet and shoving everyone hard to the floor, his sudden Skeletor-like strength supernatural.
KILL THEM!
His features distorted with rage, the prince extended an arm and shot rapid fire beams from his palm as Adam, still on the floor, unsheathed his Sword and blocked them, shielding everyone as the Sorceress scrambled to her feet and, lunging forward, shot double barrel blasts back at the warlock.
Greyskull's blasts hit the man square in the chest sending him whirling, hitting the floor.
The Sorceress turned to check on Father and Son just as Keldor jumped to his feet and stretched out a palm, the Prince's sapphire eyes suddenly going wide.
"TEELA—!"
Hearing Adam's warning too late, she whirled just as an enormous purple ball of energy headed directly for her eyes, Adam scrambling to his feet and diving last minute managing to deflect it with the tip of the Power Sword, the sorcery sailing past the warlock and penetrating the stone ceiling shaking the Castle, Keldor recoiling and leaping out of the way as the rocks rained down.
Whirling, Keldor stretched another palm when a flash of violet light blinded everyone, the sorcery slamming him once again in his vulnerable spot; his chest.
Stumbling backward, he hit the floor unconscious.
All eyes wide, they snapped to the figure in the doorway.
Evil-Lyn.
Angry, Randor jumped to his feet, brushing off the dust from his clothes.
"That's IT! My brother rots in prison TODAY!" he shouted furious as the two young people continued to gawk at the former witch. She approached.
"Evil-Lyn?" the Sorceress began. "How did you—?"
"It's Evelyn," she corrected with a humble smile. "And I don't know. I was roused from sedation by a ghostly voice asking for help," she replied. "It was very faint, but it said something like…'Help me…Help her…," she trailed off baffled. "It teleported me to these chambers."
Adam and Teela exchanged confused glances, he sheathing his Sword.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied to the Prince.
They all rushed to an unconscious Keldor, Randor glaring down at his brother.
"Get Duncan in here," he ordered, his jaw clenched with barely contained fury. "Send his ass back to Scinteria!"
Adam turned to him. "But Dad—"
"No but dads!" he shouted. "Didn't you see what he just did?" he demanded, gesturing at the floor.
"Didn't you hear who we said was responsible?" Adam shot back, frustrated.
His father scowled. "I don't care. Send him away. Forever," he waved a dismissive hand.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Teela replied, closing her eyes.
With a deep sigh, Adam turned to her. "What happened to the restraints?"
Confused, she opened her eyes and shook her head. "I never removed it. I—" cutting herself off, her eyes suddenly closed again, her demeanor settling. She opened her eyes, her gaze darting to the two men. "Greyskull removed the restraints."
Adam and Randor's jaws dropped, Evelyn arching a brow.
"What in the gott-damn fuck? Why the hell fuckin' why?" Adam demanded pissed.
The Sorceress gestured at Keldor now blinking awake.
"He has the answer."
Propping to elbows, Keldor grimaced in pain, rubbing his chest. Confused, he glanced up at everyone.
"Why am I on the floor?"
When no one responded, his surprised gaze shifted to the other woman present.
"Lady Evelyn?"
She nodded, her amorous violet gaze locked on his.
His deep chocolate gaze wandered the room when it suddenly froze straight, unseeing. "Ancients, I'm remembering it all," he looked at them, "And I know what happened."
"Then why don't you do us a favor and fill us in, oh brother of mine?" Randor asked irritated, the sarcasm hard to miss.
Adam did a small frustrated eye roll as Keldor stood and looked at the Prince.
"Just now…you didn't kill me."
"Correct," he replied, his glare hard.
"Why didn't you?" he asked, dumbfounded. "You had every right to as Defender of Eternia and this Castle."
"Because I didn't want to execute my uncle when there was a chance he wasn't acting solely by his own will," he explained. "I'm giving you the chance to make a choice."
Surprised, Keldor's lips parted, his eyes shifting to his furious brother before falling on the women. He turned back to his nephew.
"That makes twice you spared my life."
Adam nodded.
Blinking in confusion, Prince Keldor's gaze shifted to the floor.
"Something attacked me earlier…attacked my mind."
Still angry, Randor folded his arms.
"It…it seized me, told me…to kill you all," he said, his brow knitting in confusion. He placed a hand to his temple. "I had no choice but to obey. It was like, I had no control."
More nods.
"So, you're telling me that you were never jealous…never wanted the Throne," Randor asked skeptical, "That you were content to be Heir Presumptive for the rest of your life and allow my children their rightful place in the line of ascendancy?"
"No."
His suspicions validated, Randor snapped his head to Adam and gestured at his brother. Keldor blinked.
"Yes I was jealous of you, and yes I wanted the Throne," he replied. "Father always seemed to favor you: the child of his first and true Love, his Firstborn. He loved Ranae more than he loved my mother Kelian. And tragically, my mother knew it."
Randor blinked in confusion, the room silent.
"I thought coveting the Crown would make Father love me, that he'd recognize my enthusiasm to rule as my desire to be like him and it would make him…proud of me," he confessed, his voice cracking.
Randor and Adam exchanged glances, his father speechless.
"Pretty distorted reasoning, Brother," the King said, calmer now. "You realize taking the Crown meant killing me, right?"
Keldor said nothing.
"This deep desire in you is what Shadow Weaver exploited," the Guardian interjected, "Your longing for the Throne. That's when you sought out Hordak inadvertently enabling his witch to plant something within you."
His features jumped, Teela recognizing the point of recollection.
"She slept with me."
"What?" Evelyn blurted out, irritated.
"We slept together three times. I remember now."
Adam nodded, Evelyn angrily folding her arms.
"The Power Transfer. But she slipped you something you weren't counting on."
Keldor looked at his nephew, his eyes wide. "Uhh…yes, I suppose."
"She seized control of your will by developing a soul tie," the Redhead explained. "Full control was achieved by the third round of sex."
At the phrasing, all eyes darted to her, she blushing and giving a shrug.
Randor's gaze narrowed. "I see."
Just then, the Sorceress reached out a palm and opened a portal, her father and a regiment of twelve guards all stepping through armed, a look of determination on their faces.
"Sire," Duncan gave a neck bow. "The Sorceress summoned us by your request?"
"Yes, Farrell. Take my brother to the holding cell at the Palace," he gestured, Duncan's eyes following it.
Man-At-Arms' piercing chestnut gaze held Keldor's, the two men staring for a moment. Duncan broke it.
"Arrest him," he ordered.
"Yes, Sir!" they shouted as they rushed over, pulling the man's arms behind him and slamming cuffs on his wrists.
As they led him back through the open portal, Keldor's gaze briefly met Randor's, the King blinking, reading something in those eyes.
Sadness. Remorse.
Hopelessness…
Randor shuddered.
"You alright, Dad?"
He looked at his son.
"I don't know."