Disclaimer: I do not own She-Ra or its related characters. All is the property of Noelle Stevenson, Dream Works Animation, Netflix, NBCUniversal Television Distribution, Filmation, Larry DiTillo, and J. Michael Straczynski.

Inconvenient Arrangements

Chapter Two: First Impressions

"Entrapta! Entrapta! Grr!" Catra threw her arms up in exasperation, fur of her tail frizzing out, fangs barred with a snarl to vent her frustration.

Their ship had already started its descent to the planet's surface and Entrapta wasn't even dressed.

That wasn't accurate.

Entrapta was dressed. As a mechanic. A menial worker.

Not the sovereign ruler of an industrial titan like Dryl that she was.

She could not meet her future spouse –never mind that- she could not meet the Emperor of the Known Universe and his brother, looking like the person they had their servants call to service the palace ventilation systems.

The ship gave a violent lurch as they hit a pocket of turbulence in Horde World's atmosphere and Catra was thrown off balance. She landed on her feet –she always landed on her feet- but the trunk containing Entrapta's wardrobe was thrown across the cabin, spilling the Princess' gowns all over. Catra heaved another snarl. She longed for a simpler life, a war-orphan, or an underappreciated soldier. Anything had to be better than a lady-in-waiting to a tech Princess who thought measuring the pH balance of the atmosphere and how it affected the ship's hull was more important that making sure she was ready to meet the Emperor of the Known Universe, or her future spouse.

"Hey, don't worry so much." Scorpia, another Princess and Entrapta's friend, bent down to help Catra pick up the strewn clothing. "Entrapta's a little quirky, but she agreed to do this because she knows it's important. She'll be ready in time."

Catra sighed. In defeat, not relief. Scorpia was nice, but she did not seem to grasp the importance of first impressions. Entrapta was actually really amazing –once a person got to know her- but she made a terrible first impression.

Then it was Scorpia's turn to sigh. Clasping her pincers together –still holding one of Entrapta's dresses- and staring out through one of the view ports at the dusty and barren landscape of Horde World. "Isn't it romantic." She gushed. "Two people, crossing the stars to meet. Strangers coming together for the good of a nation. At first, just for duty. But then! A tender glance! A gentle touch! Gazes locking… and sparks fly… It's true love!"

Catra just stared at her. Dead-eyed. Unimpressed and unmoved.

"It could happen!" Scorpia insisted.

"It'll never happen if we can't get Entrapta ready by the time ship lan-" Catra was cut off as the ship gave another lurch as the pilot decelerated for their final approach to the Imperial landing site. Catra only hissed, showing more teeth.

"I'll help with Entrapta." Scorpia nodded, realizing maybe Catra's concerns were more legitimate and pressing than she originally thought.

But the moment the ship did actually landed, Entrapta disappeared to explore the alien palace that was the heart of the Horde Empire and Catra had no idea where she went.

…

Hec-Tor bared his teeth at the scale, displeased by the result. He managed to go a full year and a day without any weight loss from his condition and in the span of only twenty-four hours had somehow managed to lose two-hundred grams of body mass.

He stepped off the scale, waited for the number to clear, then tried again. Double checking the result. When the number showed the same. He triple checked. When all three attempts yielded the same result, he was forced to record the data in his health tracker app. He was losing weight again.

That hadn't happened since Keldor disappeared. Hec-Tor twisted the ring he still wore on the third finger of his left hand. Keldor's ring. In another few days, he would have to take it off and replace it with a different ring. Entrapta's ring. Slipping the band off his finger, he looked at the inscription. 'By the Power…' Keldor never really explained what it meant beyond 'it's just an Eternian thing'. Slipping the ring back on his finger, Hec-Tor stealed himself to face the day.

Today was going to be a bad day.

His intended's ship landed some time in the early hours of the morning. Hec-Tor was glad he was not made to greet her first thing upon her arrival. He would not have been in the best of sorts to make an acceptable first impression. He was rather confident that he would not make any kind of good first impression at all. But then, he thought the same thing before his marriage to Keldor and in the end, first impressions turned out not to matter all that much.

Hec-Tor was younger back then. He was sullen and quiet and had adhered to protocol as best as one could while also looking at their feet and not making eye-contact. While Keldor was unlike anyone Hec-Tor had ever met up to that point. Instead of reciprocating the ceremonial bow with one of his own, the Eternian Prince had laughed –just a short, half stifled laugh behind his hand, but still a laugh- and asked Hec-Tor if he did more than posture and pose. Horde Prime frowned in displeasure, and Keldor's father, King Miro, gave his son a strongly worded reprimand. But it succeeded in reminding Hec-Tor that the marriage had been arranged for Keldor just as much as it had been for him. They were both of them being forced into this and that was one thing they had in common.

Remembering that, Hec-Tor reminded himself that this was arranged for his current intended just as much as it was for him. While a small platoon of servants combed and gelled his hair, dabbed at his cheeks with foundation and concealer, lined his eyes with kohl, painted gloss on his lips, fitted decorative plugs in his ports, and just generally groomed him to look his best, Hec-Tor read over the dossier on his intended.

Princess Entrapta. While she kept the title of 'Princess' in reality, she was the Queen of her territory. She was the sovereign and sole ruler of Dryl, which was not its own planet, but a small mountain nation located on Etheria.

Hec-Tor paused at that. Recognizing the name. Etheria was a planet that shared a solar system with Eternia –Keldor's home planet. Entrapta and Keldor were practically neighbors! However, unlike Eternia, which was unified under one monarch, Etheria was a confederacy of multiple independent states.

Dryl was small in terms of land coverage. But it was an industrial titan that specialized in weapons manufacture. Weapons that combined highly advanced technology with complicated magic. Weapons that could be powered by their wielder's 'fighting spirit' rather than limited battery packs that needed to be recharged. Armors and shieldings that were just as resilient and strong as phitanium, but easier to shape, more efficient to manufacture, and –best of all- cheaper since they wouldn't have to pay Queen Elmora's premiums. Heck! Dryl even made bots that could be sent into battle in place of living soldiers.

That explained why Horde Prime wanted her in the family.

With Entrapta married to the Emperor's own brother, her loyalty would be to the Empire –which her children might have a chance to inherit one day. That would ensure that Dryl would not be selling their weapons to the Empire's enemies.

Scrolling through the file, Hec-Tor realized that the vast majority of the information was on Dryl and its arms industry. There was very little information on Princess Entrapta herself. Hell! The file didn't even include a picture of her.

Hec-Tor sighed. Of course, the file wouldn't contain much information on her. Horde Prime did not arrange this marriage to make his brother happy. He didn't care about Princess Entrapta the person. All Horde Prime cared about were the weapons and power she could bring to the Empire. Who cared if Hec-Tor was miserable for the rest of his life? Not every arranged marriage could be as lucky as his first one to Keldor. Not everyone could fall in love with their intended.

His chair was turned around and Hec-Tor examined his reflection. They did everything but put contacts in his eyes to give him pupils. He sighed. This was far more opulent than his brother made him dress up for his first engagement. Horde Prime must really, really want those weapons.

With a sigh, Hec-Tor stood from the seat. He needed a break from all the primping and preening. Maybe get some real work done. There were a few items from yesterday that he never managed to get around to. At the time he thought there would be time to deal with them today. That was before his brother took the liberty of changing his entire agenda for the rest of the week –and his life. At the very least, he needed to address the blight on Antares. Horde Prime probably wouldn't let him dispatch soldiers to either Krytis or Denebria until after the wedding, the Emperor would want to keep the military close until then.

But if he could just get to his office and do something productive.

Anything productive.

Even if it was just hitting 'read' on a non-critical memo.

He stalked down the corridors of the residential wing to his office, wearing nothing more than a dressing gown, with a head full of so much product he looked sculpted out of paste.

A door to his left burst open and Imp dashed out, in a similar state of half-dressed but very well make-uped. He saw his father standing in the corridor and skirted around to hide behind the older man's legs. Just in time for a trio of servants to follow –tripping- out of the same room after the little… imp.

Imp hissed at them.

Only one seemed brave enough to approach, addressing Hec-Tor. "Your Highness, we are trying to make the Prince ready to meet your intended and he is not cooperating. Could you… speak to him, please?"

Hec-Tor looked down at the child clinging to his calves. Imp glared up at him. He did not like playing dress-up any more than Hec-Tor did.

"If I have to suffer through this, so do you." He informed his son.

The boy gave a screech of disagreement, abandoned his father as an ally, and climbed up a wall instead. Imp shot his father a scathing look of betrayal before wiping half the makeup and cream from his face and smearing it on the expensive wallpaper. Then he disappeared into an air vent.

"Imp!" Hec-Tor shouted after him. Forget 'feral' that child could be outright wild sometimes. He got it from Keldor. He was also always a little wild.

Forget doing something productive. Now all Hec-Tor cared about was finding his son in the complicated and labyrinthine ventilation systems of the Imperial palace.

He turned suddenly anxious eyes and misplaced anger on the trio that had been grooming Imp or the introductions. "Find him!"

They ran to comply.

Hec-Tor headed in the opposite direction, long ears piqued. Listening for any movement in the walls that could indicate his errant son. Imp was spry and fast. Of all the members of the Kur family that Hec-Tor had known –both living and dead- Imp was by far the most healthy. His physical defects were extra limbs in the form of wings –that actually functioned!- and a pointed tail. He was also a little under sized for his age, but that just made it easier for him to pull stunts like this!

But the worst part was that Hec-Tor knew, if Keldor were here, he would be egging their child on. Encouraging Imp to make trouble and be an agent of chaos. Keldor would think it was funny. Keldor would be proud.

Damn. Hec-Tor made himself sad.

Before their wedding, during a heavily chaperoned stroll through the grounds of the castle in Eternos, Keldor not only convinced Hec-Tor to ditch their escorts and sneak out, but actually succeeded in doing it! Climbing up a tree close to the castle wall and pushing Hec-Tor over it before the Imperial Prince even knew what was happening. Keldor then took Hec-Tor on a tour of the back-allies of Eternos, a side of the city he was sure no Prince was meant to see.

Imp definitely got this rebelliousness from his other father. It certainly didn't come from Hec-Tor!

He came to an intersection in the corridors and froze, closing his eyes, listening hard for any scuffling or scurrying sounds that could be Imp trying to evade him. Just barely picking up a faint sound, Hec-Tor made a turn a followed the sound out of the private residential wing and into the business section. If anyone dared give him an odd look for stalking the halls in what was essentially a bathrobe, he snarled at them.

The moment Hec-Tor found an access panel large enough for him, Imp was going to be in so much trouble!

A louder scuffling in the walls.

Imp must be closer!

Hec-Tor leaned against the wall. His ear just a hair's breadth away from touching the wall –he was still mindful of all the cosmetic work he'd sat through already and did not want to sit through it again.

He followed the scuffling sound. Listening to the metal of the vents shift with the weight of a body. Funny, Imp was never heavy enough to make the vent paneling shift and bow before. But then, Imp was a growing boy.

He followed the movement in the walls he was almost in the public areas of the palace now. A place he did not want to be walking around in a bathrobe and little else. But he wanted to find his son more.

Then he heard Imp give a startled and confused little chirp. And his journey moving in the walls came to a halt. Now the scuffling in the wall was located in only one spot and it was fast and frantic.

"Imp?" Hec-Tor called, hoping the boy could hear him through the drywall and vent plating. "Are you stuck?"

Imp couldn't answer, of course. While he might be the most physically healthy member of the Kur family, he was also born mute. His vocal cords not forming right during gestation in the vitrine. The only sounds he could make were guttural chirps and squawks. With a wall between them cutting off any visual communication, there was no way for Imp to make his situation and his needs known. Hec-Tor just had to guess and hope he took the appropriate action.

He grabbed the first person he saw, not caring if they were palace staff, or a visiting dignitary (or extended staff) there for his wedding. "You! Get me the head of palace maintenance! Immediately!"

Not sure what else to do, it was all the hapless passerby could do to nod an affirmative and run away the moment Hec-Tor let go of them.

Another squak of dismay drifted through the wall and Hec-Tor once again pressed his ear to the wall. This time he did smear his makeup, but he didn't care. Some things were more important. "Imp? What is going on in there? Are you injured?"

The only answer he got was a string of confused chittering and trills.

"Imp!?"

People were casting uncertain glances at him now. What if mental instability was another of the Prince's defects? He was literally yelling at a wall.

"Oh. Well, hello little guy?" Then another voice drifted through the wall. One Hec-Tor had never heard before. Pitchy and nasal.

Was this the head of maintenance come to extricate Imp from the wall for him? It had better be! He did not like the idea of a complete stranger being in a dark enclosed space along with his son whom could not communicate in words.

"Who's in there?" He demanded.

"Is that your friend out there?" Asked the voice. "Are you stuck?"

Hec-Tor dragged his talons down the decorative wallpaper. He wanted to see what was going on in there. Who was in there with Imp? What were they doing?

"Hang on." Said the other in the wall. "The thing with old castles and palaces like this is that all the ventilation was built in a closed system so that it's harder to get inside for regular maintenance and service. See how the plating it warped here? Probably happened over the last hundred years by particles that made it past the first battery of filters. I heard the winds on Horde World can carry rocks as big as a fist a hundred kilometers in the air. I know something that big shouldn't be able to make it through filters, but when the wind can throw it that high, they can also throw it clean through carbon fiber mesh. Something like that bouncing around these vents, no wonder you got your tail stuck in a warped section."

Was- was the speaker giving Imp –a five year old child- a lecture on engineering? While they were both stuck in a wall!? Who was this person?

"Almost got ya… there!" There was a metallic popping sound.

Then Imp gave a grateful and relieved little trill.

Hec-Tor sighed. His son was okay. Still in the vents. But unharmed.

"I think I saw an outlet over there." Presumably, the owner of the voice was pointing, but Hec-Tor could not see it. "C'mon. I'll show you and make sure you don't get stuck again."

The shuffling and scuffling began again. This time moving up. To the ceiling. Hec-Tor looked up, trying to follow the sounds with his eyes.

Then a crack appeared on the ceiling.

Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no! Didn't the voice in the wall just say this palace was old! If they were a fully grown adult being, they should not be putting their full weight on the ceiling panels. They were meant to be decorative and cover the unsightly support beams and insulation. They were not meant to hold weight!

"Oh." Apparently, the voice realized this too late. "I might have miscalculated the addition of your weight."

That was the last thing they said before the whole ceiling came caving down.

A cascade of broken panels and insulation that should have been replaced decades ago came crashing down in the center of the room. Among the debris, a ball of lavender hair came tumbling out. It rolled a few meters away from the main pile.

The hair slithered. Disentangling itself frown around the body of an alien female. Copper skin and fuchsia-red eyes. Wearing dark purple overalls like a menial worker. Maybe she was the head of maintenance. And held in her gloved arms was Imp. He was fine. Cradled and shielded from the debris by her body and hair.

"Well, you're out." She announced. Then glanced back at the mess in the middle of the room. "Though, I have a feeling I might be in trouble…"

"Give me my son!" Hec-Tor all but snarled at her.

"Oh. Sure." She opened her arms and Imp fluttered his wings, flying into his father's waiting arms. Then the woman paused, as if actually noticing him. "Why are you wearing a bath robe? Oh! Did I drop in on a bathroom!? I'm so sorry! I just wanted to observe the adaptations your architects have made to compensate for the harshness of Horde World. This building is an engineering marvel and I find it fascinating!"

"Who are you?" Demanded the Prince.

"Oh. Uh," she twiddled her hair.

Under any other circumstances he would have found the fact that her hair moved like limbs quite interesting. But at the moment, he was unimpressed.

"This is a little awkward." She confessed. "You see, I'm not actually from Horde World. I just came for the wedding. Oh! Maybe I'll see you there. I should say 'hi' at the reception!"

That did not answer his question.

But then, another voice shouted across the room.

"Entrapta!"

A magicat and a scorpioness came running up to here.

Entrapta? Did they just call her 'Entrapta'? As in Princess Entrapta? His intended. The person he was arranged to marry. This dirt-covered, vent-lurking, inelegant, creature could not possibly be the one his brother meant for him to marry!

"We are so, so sorry!" Said the scorpioness. She lifted 'Princess Entrapta' up into her arms.

"Where have you been!" Snarled the magicat. "Not only are we behind schedule, you're an absolute mess! You can't meet a Prince of the Horde Empire looking like this!"

Hec-Tor just stood there, staring at them. Did none of them know who he was?

"Let's get you cleaned up." The scorpioness said in a much gentler tone. "Maybe the Prince won't mind. Maybe he likes quirky partners."

He most certainly did not!

Well, okay. Keldor was pretty quirky. And Hec-Tor loved him. A lot. But Keldor was special! Just going off this first impression, Hec-Tor was not going to like this purple, prehensile haired, vent germline one bit!

This marriage was going to be a disaster.

…