[Matt just barely resists the temptation to linger, to look around at the elegant decorations, the lavish accommodations afforded to Zarkon's favorites. It's simple curiosity, not envy -- because deep down he doesn't think he could personally handle being the sole target of that probing, all-knowing mind, those ageless eyes constantly fixed on him, the protective, possessive, completely all-encompassing attention. Humans can only handle so much, after all.
And yet another part of him almost feels something like pity for the Emperor. Galra are single-minded beings, completely occupied with the things that take their attention -- how else would they have managed to wage war for ten millennia? -- and having the object of desire and obsession be a completely unknown, thoroughly mysterious creature? It must be frustrating, having so much passion, so much adoration and devotion to give and having no idea how to communicate it.
Maybe that makes him a traitor, to his planet, his species, to everything he used to hold dear. But Matt's been places and done things no other human has. He's had a Galra touch him with so much tenderness, so much gentleness that it brought him to tears, he's brought a warlike being to their knees at the idea that he's carrying their child inside him, he's been treated like an irreplaceable, precious thing by an alien race he once believed capable of only cruelty.
It might be only biology, implanted hormones and new anatomy, pleasure receptors and pheromones, but the second Matt saw his first helpless, beautiful, tiny kit, the day he was given to Thace as his own personal concubine, he gave up any desire of returning to Earth. He accepted his new life, his new role, and surviving became thriving became something akin to happiness.
He's confident, leaning against the doorway, quietly watching simulated waves roll out to a simulated horizon, that this newcomer, the Paladin -- Lance, his name is -- will do the same. He just needs someone to help him through it.]
Excuse the intrusion. [There we go, good manners from the start, set a good example. After all, technically Lance outranks Matt, as far as hierarchies go. The words aren't Galran, though -- they're English, sounding clumsy in Matt's mouth after so many months.]
oh lance wow
And yet another part of him almost feels something like pity for the Emperor. Galra are single-minded beings, completely occupied with the things that take their attention -- how else would they have managed to wage war for ten millennia? -- and having the object of desire and obsession be a completely unknown, thoroughly mysterious creature? It must be frustrating, having so much passion, so much adoration and devotion to give and having no idea how to communicate it.
Maybe that makes him a traitor, to his planet, his species, to everything he used to hold dear. But Matt's been places and done things no other human has. He's had a Galra touch him with so much tenderness, so much gentleness that it brought him to tears, he's brought a warlike being to their knees at the idea that he's carrying their child inside him, he's been treated like an irreplaceable, precious thing by an alien race he once believed capable of only cruelty.
It might be only biology, implanted hormones and new anatomy, pleasure receptors and pheromones, but the second Matt saw his first helpless, beautiful, tiny kit, the day he was given to Thace as his own personal concubine, he gave up any desire of returning to Earth. He accepted his new life, his new role, and surviving became thriving became something akin to happiness.
He's confident, leaning against the doorway, quietly watching simulated waves roll out to a simulated horizon, that this newcomer, the Paladin -- Lance, his name is -- will do the same. He just needs someone to help him through it.]
Excuse the intrusion. [There we go, good manners from the start, set a good example. After all, technically Lance outranks Matt, as far as hierarchies go. The words aren't Galran, though -- they're English, sounding clumsy in Matt's mouth after so many months.]