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 Seven: Then the Next Day

Hec-Tor was alone when he woke up.

The bed wasn't even warm where Entrapta had slept. She must have fled the bridal suit the moment the sun came up.

That was fine. Hec-Tor didn't know what he would have said to her if she was there anyway. He got up to start his own day. Hopefully one that was closer to his regular schedule then this past week had been.

Stoppering his ports with silicone plugs, he started with a dust bath. Letting the powder-fine dust cleanse him of the dried sweat and –other- bodily fluids that crusted him over. Sex could be enjoyable, but it was also a messy business. Hec-Tor rubbed down every inch of himself, giving special attention to the most affected areas. Not just his thighs and abdomen, but underarms and back. Where sweat liked to collect. When that was done, he wiped around his ports with antiseptic just to make sure they were clean and sanitary.

A dutiful servant, or maybe even a member of his own staff, must have slipped in during his bath, because when Hec-Tor stepped out of the washroom, the bed was made and his armor and a fresh gown were laid out on it. They had also left a scale and his personal data pad on the bedside table. Good ol' Mantenna and Grizzlor, they were the best lieutenants a leader of the Horde could ask for.

Placing the scale on the floor, Hec-Tor weighed himself, and- a sigh. Yes, he was still losing weight. Another hundred and ten grams since the previous day. Not as much as he'd lost over previous days, but still a loss. Hec-Tor logged the loss in his health tracker app before getting dressed for the day.

There was a week's worth of work waiting for him on his desk and he needed to get to it.

There was more than a week's worth of work waiting for him.

Datacards stacked upon datacards. There were more piles than just Imperial business, personal business, and household business. The Imperial business had been split up into multiple piles, each one meticulously labeled with sticky notes in Grizzlor's surprisingly refined hand writing. The uprising in the mines on Krytis. Famine on Antares now, on account of burning out the blight. The rebellion on Denebria. Issues that, just one short week ago, were small matters that could have been handled in a day, were ignored and allowed to grow into more serious problems for the Empire.

Hec-Tor rubbed his forehead. The day had barely even started and already he had a headache.

This was a lot to tackle in… however much time Brother was going to give him before he was sent to Etheria and Dryl to oversee his new wife's weapon's manufacture.

He took a breath. One thing at a time. Hec-Tor was good at his job. He'd been doing it almost all his life. For about as long as Brother had been the Prime. He would get everything sorted out and the Empire would continue to function like a well-oiled machine. Like the engine of domination it had been since the early days of the First Horde Prime.

Hec-Tor moved all non-critical datacards off to one side. The ones for his personal business ventures and household concerns were shifted to the side. Along with-

Hec-Tor paused.

There was one stack missing from his desk.

Although, 'stack' was inaccurate. It hadn't been a 'stack' of datacards in many, many years. Lately it had just been one sad, lonely, little data file that always read the same thing. 'No new leads.' Even so, Hec-Tor wanted to see it anyway. But it wasn't there today. There should have been more than one. There should have been a week's worth of them. But there were none.

There was no update on the search for Keldor on his desk.

Hec-Tor yanked open the drawer he threw them in when he wasn't ready to read them. Those were gone too. He pressed the intercom in his desk.

"This is Grizzlor, attendant to Imperial Prince Hec-Tor Kur of the Great and Eternal Horde Empire." The deep and gravely voice of Gur'Rull Gu'Rrooow Arrrk, given Imperial name: Grizzlor answered. Originally from the planet Jungulia, Grizzlor looked like a rough and brutish thug who didn't have two brain cells to rub together. But he was actually a graduate of the Horde Academy on Horde World, not just a graduate, but in the top percentile of his class. Meticulous, organized, and good at his job. Grizzlor would not have just 'misplaced' something as important to his Prince as the search for his missing husband.

"Where are the updates on the search for Keldor?" Hec-Tor demanded.

"Ah-uh." Grizzlor hesitated before answering and the channel crackled. Grizzlor never hesitated. Grizzlor was competent and decisive. "The search for Prince Keldor was ended, Your Highness. As- as per order of the Emperor, all remaining datacards containing information on the search were to be delivered to processing to be wiped and repurposed."

"What!?" Hec-Tor snarled an expletive that was most unbecoming of a Prince of the Horde Empire. How dare he! Brother had no right! "How long ago were they taken to processing?"

"I just dropped them off this morning, Your Highness. Right before heading to meet with Princess Entrapta's Lady in Waiting in preparation for your journey to Etheria."

"I'm here too, by the way." Said a female voice Hec-Tor recognized as one from Entrpata's party, but he hadn't yet memorized the face or name that corresponded to it. "What's a keldor?"

Hec-Tor ended the transmission.

He stormed out of his officer, and stomped down twelves floors, through countless corridors, shoving palace staff and visiting dignitaries aside, to get to data processing and card scrubbing.

Two dozen startled IT technicians looked up when he barged in. They almost never got members of the Imperial family down here. This was basically a boring basement. Was he lost?

"Where are the cards my lieutenant dropped off this morning?" He demanded.

There was a pregnant pause in which no one did or said anything. Still just a little too shocked to process. Hec-Tor grew impatient and angry and snarled a wordless snarl at the lot of them, displaying his razor sharp crimson teeth. Very few in the Empire got to see members of the Imperial family up close, still fewer got to see them angry and live to tell the tale.

One terrified tech dared to approach, holding out a half-empty tray of less than a dozen cards. It was maybe an eighth of what Hec-Tor had allowed to accumulate on the search for Keldor.

"Th-these are the only ones that haven't been scrubbed yet, Your Highness."

All that information, lost…

Hec-Tor suppressed another snarl. He snatched up the tray –making the tech wince as he did so- and counted the cards. Seven in total. Dates all out of order. Some from only last month, others years old, from all the way back when he first stopped reading them. Hec-Tor gathered up all the cards, turned, and left the room. He discarded the now empty tray by the door where it clattered loudly to punctuate his exit.

In the lift back up to the administrative floors of the palace, Hec-Tor seethed silently. Standing at a disciplined rest, his arms clasped behind his back, both hands wrapped around the datacards.

He had half a mind to track down Brother, wherever he was in the palace, and give him a piece of his mind. How dare he! If he wanted to have Keldor declared legally dead, that was his prerogative as Emperor. If he wanted to marry Hec-Tor off to some foreign arms manufacture, whatever, the Empire needed weapons. If he wanted to take Keldor's wedding ring- Hec-Tor felt the pressure of tears building and he hoped he didn't start crying before he got back to his office –if he wanted to take the ring, Hec-Tor would adjust. He had a different wedding ring now, and besides, it wasn't like he didn't have anything left of his husband. He still had Imp. But where did Prime get off calling off the search for Keldor! Taking away the last scrap of hope Hec-Tor had that his husband might be found.

By the time the lift opened up on Hec-Tor's floor, he still hadn't decided if he wanted to confront Brother or not. But he didn't get the chance to decide. He was distracted by something else.

Imp and Zed came running up to him.

Actually, Imp was flying. Zed was hobbling quickly, the breathing tank of his respirator clanking loudly against his armor.

Imp screeched at him loudly, making his displeasure known. Though, what he was displeased about was unknown.

Zed grabbed Imp's hand the moment the other boy was no longer moving. His breath wheezed out when he spoke, but his voice was firm, almost commanding. Like the young Horde Prime-to-be that he was. "You cannot take Imp when you leave. I will not allow it."

Still flapping next to him, Imp squawked an agreement. He tried to Sign a more detailed explanation to his father. That they had always been together. That Zed needed him and he could not leave. That if the adults tried to separate them, they would fight back. They were sons of the Kur Dynasty same as their fathers. They would be respected.

But it was difficult Signing with only one hand and only half Imp's message got across.

Hec-Tor glared at the boys.

At any other time, he would have been proud of them for asserting themselves. For digging their heels in and refusing to back down. For demanding to be taken just as seriously as any other Princes of the Horde Empire.

But they cought him at a bad time.

Hec-Tor was already in a foul mood and was not in the right state of mind to entertain children's tantrums, or explain how the world worked.

"Enough!" He snarled at the boys, voice louder than he needed to be. Behind his back, his hands tightened around the few datacards on the search for Keldor. "Horde Prime has dictated that I must go to Etheria, so to Etheria I will go, and my son shall remain with me."

Imp was all he had left of Keldor.

"I will fight you, Uncle!" Zed was probably the least threatening creature in the universe.

"You will return to your keepers and continue with whatever items your father placed on your agenda for today." Hec-Tor informed him. "Imp, you will report to Mantenna to help you prepare for our immenant departure."

Both boys hissed. Zed's sound morphing into a snarl half-way. Mouth open, teeth showing. He let go of Imp's hand and assumed a fighting stance. It was off balance. The placement of his feet clumsy. Zed was not a great warrior. Zed was also a five-year-old child with severe physical limitations that would prevent him from ever becoming a great warrior. The idea that Zed seriously wanted to fight him was laughable.

Hec-Tor actually laughed at him.

Zed pounced on him. Trying to jump to compensate for the height difference. Failing to get more than a couple centimeters off the ground and still stumbled on his landing. Zed tried to kick Hec-Tor in the shins instead.

Imp squawked.

The metal plating of Hec-Tor's boots absorbed Zed's blow and the child ended up doing more damage to himself than to his uncle. His toe and whole foot erupting with pain. The boy hollered.

Then paused.

"Is your infantile tantrum over?" Hec-Tor glared down at the boys.

Zed did not respond, his expression oddly blank. Hec-Tor also froze, recognizing the warning sign. Zed went still as a board, his muscles rigid. Then collapsed.

Hec-Tor went down next to him. Dropping his handful of datacards as he tried to catch the boy. Or at the very least cushion his fall.

Zed's body began twitching and jerking. His muscles seizing.

Imp shrieked in distress.

"Stay back." Hec-Tor growled at his son. When a person was having a seizure, you wanted to keep the area clear. Give them room. Hec-Tor also swept the fallen datacards aside, out of the way. Removing anything from the immediate space that Zed mind injure himself on during his uncontrollable convulsions.

Imp fluttered into the air, keeping his space from his cousin. Squawking with concern. This was not the first seizure he'd witnessed. But each time was still concerning for the still very young child.

Hec-Tor looked around, checking the chronometer on the wall to time the seizure. It wasn't even a full minute yet. That wasn't that bad.

A passing secretary paused, staring at the scene. Unsure and slightly scared. That was the Heir Apparent on the floor twitching.

"Go get Horde Prime!" Hec-Tor snarled at him.

They ran away immediately. Presumably to go get the boy's father. Or someone with enough clearance to get the boy's father.

Hec-Tor glanced at the chronometer on the wall again. Now it had been a full minute since the seizure started. Hec-Tor rolled Zed onto his side, to help keep the boy's airway clear. Zed had enough breathing problems as if was without a seizure constricting his pipes.

The seizure was entering its second minute when Horde Prime arrived. Immediately going to his knees next to Hec-Tor.

"How long?" He demanded, all pretense of a calm and commanding Emperor gone. Voice tight. Expression concerned. The image of a fearful parent watching their child suffer and knowing there was nothing they could do. All one could do for a seizure was wait it out.

"It has not yet been two minutes." Hec-Tor informed him. This was not the first seizure of Zed's he had attended.

Prime nodded. Two minutes was about average for one of Zed's seizures. Less than two minutes was great! More than two minutes was concerning. Five minutes or more and you had to pick him up off the floor and rush him to the palace infirmary because that was a medical emergency.

Finally, the convulsing subsided. Zed stopped twitching. He lay on his side, still and unconscious. The only sound in the corridor, the respirator strapped to his armor breathing for him.

Hec-Tor looked back up at the chronometer on the wall. "One minute, fifty-six seconds."

Just under two minutes. The better side of average for one of Zed's seizures. It wasn't that bad.

Horde Prime gathered the unconscious boy up into his arms. "I shall see to my son."

"Of course." Hec-Tor backed up to give his Brother some space.

Prime paused, looking at Hec-Tor. Holding Zed in his arms, he paused. "You…" It seemed almost as if he did not know what to say. "I have always appreciated how you treat Zed as if he were your own."

"He is my nephew." Hec-Tor stated, as if confused. Why wouldn't he care about Zed and treat him as family? They were family.

Still holding the unconscious boy in his harms, Prime took a step closer to Hec-Tor. Leaning in. So that their faces were unnecessarily close together. "Brother…"

Then Zed groaned in his sleep.

Prime turned his attention back to his one and only living child. "I will be indisposed for the rest of the day. Any matters that require the Emperor's attention will be forwarded to you."

Prime carried Zed away.

Hec-Tor stood there, watching his Brother's retreating back.

Imp gathered up the discarded datacards, crawling around on the floor to make sure he got all of them. Then tugged on the hem of his father's gown. He offered up the handful of datacards when his father looked down.

Bending down, Hec-Tor picked the boy up, hugging him to his own chest. He was never more thankful for the magic that made Imp than right after one of Zed's episodes. Magic that allowed for Keldor to combine their genes safely to creature a –comparatively- healthy being. Imp might have his own physical deformities and be functionally mute, but he would never have to suffer the same afflictions and impairments as his cousin.

"I want this to be the end of any tantrums about leaving." He told the boy. "Zed must stay with Anillis and you will come with me, and you will not get Zed worked up over this again."

Imp gave a forlorn little chirp and nodded against his father's armor.

Hec-Tor carried him back to his office with him.

He set the boy down in his own chair and paced the room, feeling anxious and worked up. Nothing wracked the nerves harder than watching a child you helped raise convulse on the ground uncontrollably. Even if said convulsions were a semi-normal thing. Add that to the already stressful week he had and Hec-Tor was having a somewhat difficult time calming down.

Unfurling his wings, Imp flapped out of the chair and fluttered over to his father, trying to give him the datacards again. Maybe Dad would feel better if he had this work that he was carrying around before Zed had his episode.

This time, Hec-Tor did take the stack of cards from the boy.

Then he sighed. "Sometimes I wish you did remember Keldor."

Imp tilted his head, not understanding.

"Etheria, the planet we will be going to, is located in the same system as his home planet. Eternia." Hec-Tor informed him son. "You are half-Eternian."

Or would Imp be considered half-Gar? Since that was Keldor's race, Eternian was just his nationality. Nationality was a circumstance of birth, not a characteristic of one's genetics.

Imp only gave a half-hearted little trill. He didn't really care. Horde World and the Imperial palace was all he'd ever know.

Finally, Hec-Tor calmed down enough to sit at his desk, Imp perching on the back on his chair. He tapped Keldor's datacards on the desk. Going all the way down to processing to collect them when all they would probably say was that there were no new leads and Keldor remained lost seemed so absurd now.

And he lost an entire morning of work too.

Any moment now his staff would be bringing lunch and medication to him here in this office. The day was half gone and he had nothing to show for it. He opened a drawer in his desk, the same drawer he'd been throwing them in for years. The same drawer they were taken out of to be sent to processing. Hec-Tor losed the drawer without stowing the cards in it.

Instead, he passed the stack back to Imp. "Pack these for me." He commanded. "I will read them after we have left Horde World."

Not understanding, but still feeling the obedience of guilt over Zed's seizure, Imp took the cards. He nodded to his father then fluttered out of the room.

Hec-Tor massaged his forehead. He had the absolute worst headache.

…