Originally written for Starparty's b-day.
"Fuck," Telerk swore as he jerked on the controls, hard. The last blast his dear sister had managed to hit on his ship had taken out the ancient Geteivian pixies fuel capacitors, leaving him to try and power the damn thing himself while attempting to pilot it into a safe Gate.
In all honesty, he should have known better than to try and go home. They'd told him, hadn't they? Under no uncertain circumstances, was he ever to come back. And if he ever did grow the balls to darken their doorstep, it was with the contingency that he would be accepting the Life and that he'd be giving up his own frivolous pursuits of building ships and becoming an engineer. And, of course, he'd taken the gamble, coming home to show them that he'd been successful in his endeavors. He'd started off as a tech, keeping it low key and learning all he could. Working his way up, he'd made a name for himself.
He'd kept the family name a secret, of course, passing himself off as some kind of interspace hauler trash in the beginning. Playing the part had come easy, he'd learned how to act out any given role and play whatever part needed at his mom's knees. And taking a smart chance here and there and relying a bit on the luck that had held him for most of his life, he'd come out on top. He was a certified engineer. And he was well on his way to becoming as sought after and as in demand as Haden.
The family being what they were though didn't give a flying fuck.
The Goblin Clan had nothing to do with technology. Magic was magic. And technology was technology. As heir to the Clan, he was supposed to have grown up revering their ways. Instead, he'd run off in the night, flying to worlds unknown and throwing himself into magictech as fast as he could.
He'd disgraced them. Giving up the Old Ways and on the Old Traditions, he'd thumbed his nose at them, and given the intensity with which his younger sister was chasing him across the galaxies from Gate to Gate, it was equally as obvious that they were ready to end whatever ties they might have once had with him.
And since no one left the Clan, he was cheating death. Badly even, at the moment.
Pulling up the ship's stats on the nearest monitor to him, Telerk gritted his teeth and tried not to think about how exhausting it was to magically power a ship. Having never done it before, he hadn't entirely realized how hard it was. Gave him a little bit more respect for Gelfan, Haden's mate, who single handedly powered theirs. Because Telerk had to admit, he wasn't cut out for this kind of drain on his magics potential.
"The pixies are gone!" Poth's sharp voice pierced through Telerk's thoughts, making him jump. Dammit, he'd forgotten that he'd taken the twins along. So not what he needed right now.
"I know that. Now sit down and shut up," he growled, darkly.
"Boss man, we're veering off course for the Gate. If you don't correct that damn rudder, we're going to crash land into one of Jalenth's numerous oceans. Get those pixies in line!" Jorby's voice filtered through the intercom system, and under any other circumstance, Telerk would have slammed it off so he didn't have to listen to the brat, but communication was crucial at this point.
"We don't have any damned pixies," Poth reiterated. "I don't know how the fuck this thing is even flying."
"I'm powering it. Now both of you, shut your damned mouths and help me land this bastard." Preferably before his sister could take another pot shot and blow him off the face of the universe.
For about five seconds, there was blessed silence.
"No Pixies?! Are you fucking nuts?! Poth, grab the goddamned rudder from him!"
"Got it, bro," Poth chirped, wrenching the controls for it right out from under Telerk's control. "I don't think Telerk's used to using his magics."
"Well, no shit. He's never used them in front of us and we practically live right under his nose."
"You don't live under my goddamned nose, and if you don't shut up, you're not going to live long enough to see the surface of Jalenth, let alone your next birthday," Telerk promised darkly, concentrating hard on feeding just enough power into the damaged fuel cells to keep them operating but not enough to fry their already compromised circuits. Lords, but this thing was a piece of crap. When he could find the time, he was making something that didn't fall apart at the first sign of danger.
"Lighthouse Gate has recognized us and they're asking for coordinates," Jorby barked next, in blatant disregard of Telerk's order to shut the fuck up.
"No, we're not landing at Lighthouse Gate. Find another goddamned Gate."
"The planet is 90 water, just how many Gates do you think it has," Poth demanded irritably, rudely reaching in front of him and tapping a few keystrokes.
"We're not landing at that Gate. I'm the goddamned captain of this ship and I say we aren't landing there."
"Sorry, Cap'n. I choose life," the annoying brat grinned, punching the last few keystrokes that sent the Lighthouse their coordinates. Telerk tried batting him away, but only earned a smart smack to the back of his head for his troubles.
"Mutinous little back stabbing--"
"What's he muttering down there? Lighthouse Gate has applied a tractor beam and is requesting that we not fight the pull."
"--Twerpy double vision bastard good for nothing pain in my ass ne'er do well--"
"Jorby, Boss man's havin' a little trouble accepting the fact that we're docking down at Lighthouse Gate. Should I?"
"Should you what?" Telerk growled, narrowing his eyes as Poth advanced on him. As much of a pain as they were, they were both bigger than him, not to mention stronger.
"Yeah, go for it, Poth, I got our backs."
"Nighty-night, Boss man." There was a soft hiss of a tranq and Telerk managed half a growl before unconsciousness overtook him.
Telerk woke with a massive headache. Mostly likely because he'd never particularly cared for tranqs and because he very rarely used his magics. His senses only hurt a lot. Which made sense since he'd overextended them to power that piece of junk someone had generously decided to call a ship.
Groaning, he rolled over, not daring to open his eyes. Light would only make the headache worse. When he got a hold of the twins, he was going to kill them. It would be a slow, agonizing and painful death. He'd make them listen to Florian chants till their ears bled. He'd tie them to chairs and tell Haden that they were interested in learning the mechanics of magictech power flux capacitors.
He inhaled deeply, noting that the pillow he was laying on was freshly laundered, and therefore not his. Frowning slightly, he groped blindly for the edge of the bed. Wood furniture met his fingers, and the frown turned into a scowl. Either the twins had found the most ancient infirmary in the galaxy or—
"Telerk."
"Fuck me," he mumbled incoherently into his pillow. There had been ample reason he hadn't wanted to dock at Lighthouse Gate. Leave it to the two mutineers to ignore him. It would serve them right if they were eaten and tossed in the oceans like flotsam and jetsam.
"You should be thanking those crew members of yours. They saved your life. Not to mention theirs. Your power cells were hitting critical mass. A few more minutes and they would have exploded."
Telerk pondered that and decided that maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad fate, given current circumstances. "Nerg," he grumbled instead of saying so, though.
"You look different," the voice was wistful, and in spite of himself, Telerk turned towards it and cracked an eye. Sure enough, there he was, sitting patiently in a wooden chair beside the bed, looking for all the world as if he belonged there when Telerk knew for a fact that he didn't.
"Gyth." Telerk blinked before rubbing his aching eyes and sitting up. His whole body ached, reminding him that magics came from within and that using them was like using a muscle. Ignore it and it grew lax, overuse it and it clobbered you the next day.
Gyth, however, looked ages better than Telerk felt. No surprise that, as Gyth had the poise of a thousand diplomats and the grace of a thousand regal royals.
For a moment, Telerk almost hated him for that. The way Gyth could make it look so fucking easy when every time Telerk had tried the same, he'd fallen flat on his face. But Gyth was Gyth. And just looking at him, Telerk couldn't be mad. His hair was still the same shaggy blond with a tint of green to it; his eyes were still the same sea foam blue. His fingers were still long and graceful, the thin webbing in between them looking as satiny as they had in years past.
"You have seaweed in your hair," he blurted out before thinking, and at Gyth's perplexed look, he wanted to bury himself back under the blankets. There was something about being around Gyth that made him that self same awkward kid who hadn't known what he'd wanted, just that he hadn't wanted what everyone else had wanted for him.
Of course, that wasn't the problem anymore. He knew what he wanted. And he knew what he could have. Sometimes they were the same, sometimes they weren't. Telerk had always dreamed big. It just had never quite bitten him in the ass like this.
"Hmm, I suppose you're right," Gyth returned calmly, picking the seaweed out of his hair and then setting it down on the end table by the bed as if it were the most normal thing. How did he do that? "You said something similar to that when we first met, remember?"
"Yeah, no," he lied flat out.
"Except I think you told me I had sand on my ass that time. Then you told me that it was a cute ass, and then I think you propositioned me in spite of the fact that you were a great deal younger than me. I just remember that no one had ever talked to me that way before. And yet, there you were snickering at me."
"Gyth, what do you want from me?" Telerk snorted, grabbing his jacket from the bed post and hastily throwing it on to cover his sandy skin. His soot black hair covered the pointed tips of his ears, but there wasn't much point in hiding his eyes as most races had the same maroon red eyes. In fact, he didn't look too much different from a lot of races, which had made a quick escape from his family easier to manage.
"Why did you leave, Telerk? Why? I thought you were happy here."
"As a clam," he snarked, easing out of the bed. "Look, it was fun while it lasted. But it was just a fling. I was young and stupid and you were just riding a couple wild waves before settling down." Telerk shrugged as if it didn't matter, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth.
Even now, looking at Gyth and the graceful way that he stood up, and the concern in his face as Telerk didn't manage to hide a wince as well as he liked; he loved the man. It didn't matter how much of the universe he'd see or who else he'd meet or how much time passed. Gyth was it.
And he wasn't Telerk's to have.
"It wasn't just a fling to me. Telerk," Gyth stopped him, a hand on his arm. The warmth burned him and he wanted more. Gyth smelled like the sea and freedom and like something Telerk wanted to throw down on the bed and burrow himself into. But Gyth had obligations. To Jalenth, to his family, to the Gate. There was no room in the mix for Telerk or even for someone like Telerk.
"I have to go," he mumbled, shrugging off Gyth's arm.
"Fine," Gyth said coldly. "Leave. That's what you're good at."
Gyth had no idea. None at all, Telerk decided as he made himself walk out the door and shut it behind him.
"You!"
Amazing how one little snarl could indicate so much, Telerk noted, almost amused as Gyth's family cornered him on the way to the pile of junk formerly known as his ship. "Hello to you too, Falen. I can see all the years of peaceful bliss have yet to make you less of an asshole."
"You little brat!"
"I might be short, but unlike you, I quit sucking the teat a long time ago," he murmured, knowing that his calm would only set Falen off more. Which, to tell the truth, was exactly his intention.
"Son," Gyth's father, also known as the Emperor of Jalenth, silenced Falen with a small motion of his hand. Cute trick that, Telerk noted with detached amusement. Would that he could get the slimy fish to shut up that easily. "We had a deal, space trash."
"Really? Cause I don't remember agreeing to being drugged and shoved on the first space hopper that came in to dock," he snarled as he barreled past them into the main hanger bay.
"One would think you'd be grateful, you snotty little upstart," Gyth's mother, Queen Supreme sniffed, throwing her nose in the air. "That space hopper has helped to make quite a name of you in the universe. Because of us, you've been successful."
Whipping around, Telerk could only gape for a moment. Maybe, years ago, the witch would have had him quaking in his too big boots, but not now. "No, I made a name for myself and Haden helped me. All you did was give me a healthy dose tranq poisoning."
"You weren't living up to your part of the bargain," the emperor interrupted, obviously realizing that at the very least, Telerk could and would take the bitch queen in a fight. "We thought only to expedite matters."
"You gave me a whole fucking day!" Telerk ground out, ignoring the bitch's queen's gasp at his coarse manners. Language. Whatever. The lady had never liked him, and quite frankly, the feeling was mutual. "I didn't even get to say goodbye!"
"Well, what good would that have done?" Falen sniffed.
And like that, the fight went out of him. Because idiot boy did have a point. What would have been the point in saying goodbye to Gyth? Gyth would have just tried to change his mind and made the separation ultimately that much more painful. Still, he wasn't going to thank these pricks for almost killing him. It had taken Haden weeks to nurse him back to health. Not to mention he had a mild allergy to tranqs now, hence the headache he was still enduring.
"Look, it was an emergency landing. I'm not here to whisk your baby boy away and I'm not here to fight with you. You don't like me? Fucking great. I don't plan on inviting you to my tea parties any time soon. Once I get my ship back up to working order, we're out of here. It'll take two days tops." Quicker, even, if Telerk could manage it.
"Lovely, see that you do. And remember our bargain," the emperor looked down at him imperiously.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Telerk nodded. "Yes, I won't seek out Gyth. Trust me, this afternoon had not been my idea," he grumbled. Because now that he had gotten another glimpse at what he was missing out on, the empty ache in his chest had grown.
And as the imperial asses took their 'my shit don't stink' selves out of the hanger bay, he sighed. He always had to do things the hard way. He had to want the unattainable. He had to thirst after things that weren't and would never be his.
Magictech had been his passion, and he'd followed it away from home, acknowledging that it meant isolation and banishment and death should he ever be caught again by them. Gyth had been his first love, and he'd had his couple of months of happiness before someone had woken him up to the situation.
Gyth was first in line to rule. There were contracts that he had to make and people he had to make them with, and none of that included bedding down with some scruffy ne'er do well kid. Gyth had a life here on Jalenth. One that he obviously loved and work that he loved doing. Telerk was nothing but a proverbial blip on the screen. Gyth actively wanted the life that Telerk had run away from.
He'd made the bargain because it had seemed simple. He left, and in return, they would let Gyth pursue his interests unhindered, giving the man a chance to delve into Gate magictech. It was a small thing, the only thing really, that Telerk could do for Gyth that held any kind of significant meaning. If he'd stayed, Gyth would have woken up to things one day and realized how much of a dead weight Telerk was on him.
"Hey Boss man, is it safe to come out?"
Sparing a glance for Jorby and his stupid Florian face, he nodded. "How's the ship coming?"
"It's getting there," Poth answered for him, wiping greasy hands on a rag. "I hailed Uncle Gelfan and he seemed to think that if you were strong enough to land the beast, you ought to be able to configure the piece of crap to fly to your specification. He says a few modifications will make it a lot easier on you and your magics."
"Great."
"So, about what those imperial assholes just said," Jorby started in spite of Poth's obvious sign language to stop.
"Get to work," Telerk snarled, stomping all the way back into the hunk of metal formerly known as a ship.
"Telerk?"
Jerking, Telerk clumsily wiped away the drool hanging out of his mouth. He knew, after rubbing his face, that he'd fallen asleep on the control panel given the indents in his skin. Unfortunately, he wished he was still asleep when he raised his head and turned to address the person who'd woken him. "Gyth."
"We need to talk."
"You've got a snail on your lapel." It was like a disease. Telerk resisted the urge to beat his head against the panel. After all, it wasn't the panel's fault that he was stupid or that he was in this situation. He couldn't help himself. He noticed Gyth. It was impossible not to.
"I need to know why you left, Telerk. I spent a lot of years thinking it was me. I wanted to run after you. I wanted to go out and drag you back because I was so sure that you were supposed to be with me. I didn't care if we were here or somewhere else, all that mattered was that you were with me. But when I went out, my mother told me that it had been your decision to leave. That you'd grown sick of me and that you had outgrown me. You were ready to move on and I was holding you down. Keeping you back."
"Gyth," he started, and then stopped, not sure what to say.
"Do you know, that not once in my entire life, have my parents ever seen me with the same kind of clarity that you saw me? Never. You saw things that no one else saw. You just seemed to know me better than anyone else I ever knew. And I guess I made the mistake in assuming that you knew everything. Because I thought you knew how much I loved you."
Loved. Past tense. Telerk clasped his hands behind his back so that the white knuckles wouldn't show as his heart shattered into tiny bits.
"I was a kid," he said instead, almost mechanically. "I needed to grow up. I'm not the same person now that I was then." This was what he wanted, wasn't it? If he couldn't have Gyth, than he at least wanted the man to be able to move on. Not that he thought himself such a glorious impact on Gyth's life, but it was a relief wasn't it? That Gyth wasn't as pathetic over him as he was over Gyth.
"I will see my brother you humongous white haired ignoramuses!"
"Lords have me for a platter," Telerk muttered under his breath, blowing his sooty black bangs out of his face.
"Telerk! You have a lot to explain!" Fiona snarled, stepping down hard on Poth's foot, possibly breaking a toe or two given Poth's shriek of pain and the way he quickly let go of her in favor of inspecting said foot.
"Me? You shot down my damned ship!"
"Well, you are outclanned. Those are the rules, aren't they?" She looked so puzzled, that Telerk couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew it was a habit he'd picked up from Haden, but he couldn't help it. Fiona would give anyone a headache. As it was, she was standing there like it was perfectly normal to be running about if one was a twelve year princess goblin in full garb and regalia. Hell, the only thing missing from the authentic robes to the stylized hair that showed off her pointy ears was he damned tiara.
"So, maybe since you're trying to kill me, I don't want to see you," he told her slowly, simply.
"That? That was just a scratch. You're all magictech, it should have been a snap for you to land that thing magically."
That was the problem with having a family allergic to mixing magic and technology, Telerk sighed. They had no idea how complex a magictech system was or how much effort it took to operate it or keep it operating. Bloody magic purists. "Go home, Fiona."
"Well, so maybe I wasn't trying to kill you, but I am supposed to drag you home so Dad can haul you up by your eyeballs and gut you like the traitor you are as an example." Did she honestly think that kind of talk would convince him to go anywhere with her? Particularly since he knew for a fact that his father would do just that?
"Forget it. I choose life," he told her, stealing one of Poth's favorite sayings.
"It's family. You can't escape family," she told him with unfailing logic.
"I can sure try."
"Look, he might go lighter on you if you come on your own accord, Telerk. But he's got the whole Clan out looking for you. He's not going to stop until he finds you," she told him earnestly. "If you turn yourself in, you might only wind up slightly maimed, but if you make him catch you, he really is going to kill you. He's been ranting for years about how no son of his is going to dirty the line. If he thinks you're going to be a stain on the lineage, he'll do his damnedest to wipe you out."
"He's not going to be a stain on the lineage," Gyth interrupted, coming between Telerk and Fiona.
"Excuse me?" He couldn't help but poke the man in the back, just above his gills, of course. And no, his hand didn't at all linger on a shoulder blade and he most certainly did not for a second imagine what Gyth looked like without the fancy clothes covering him.
"He's not going to be a stain because he's not a part of that lineage anymore. He's a Naiades now. You take that back to your father." Gyth glared down at Fiona imperiously.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Telerk demanded.
"What the hell is a Naiades? You change species or something, Telerk?" Fiona demanded at about the same time.
"No, I haven't lost my mind, and Naiades is my surname. He's a part of my family now. I'll see that the records are changed to reflect that."
"I can't be part of your goddamned family," Telerk ground out, stepping out from behind Gyth and rounding on the man.
"There is the matter of your parents," Jorby chose the moment to stick his big fat unwanted Florian nose into things.
"Yes, they've done quite a lot of damage, haven't they," Gyth agreed. "Which is why I'm having them sent to the Delton continent on the other side of the planet. I can't kick them off entirely as they are family, but that certainly doesn't mean I have to actually live with them. Or like them."
Telerk shot Poth and Jorby looks that promised retribution once he figured out how the hell they'd managed to get an audience with the crowned prince.
"Look, you're all batshit nuts because none of this is happening." Telerk glared before curling his arms over his chest.
"Jorby, Poth, why don't you escort the lovely Princess Fiona back to her ship. She has a message to deliver." Gyth gave a regal grin and Telerk resisted the urge to knock him over or mess up his hair or anything to ruin the fake air of diplomacy.
"You're cracked," he told the man flatly the minute the door closed behind the intruders.
"You're right, you aren't the same kid who left here all those years ago," Gyth told him sternly. And Telerk felt the breath catch painfully in his throat. Of course he wasn't that kid. "But I'm not the same person I was then either."
"So what the hell are we doing here? You've got a life to lead and I've got ships to design."
"You can design ships anywhere," Gyth told him, drawing closer. "You can design them here. With me. I'm not so stupid or blind now, I swear. I wasn't strong enough to stand up for you then, or to even realize that I needed to. But I am now and I need to know if there's still a chance." Gyth's hand's closed the distance, landing lightly on Telerk's cheeks. They were warm, almost hot, but the satiny webbed skin between his fingers brushed Telerk's cheeks as Gyth moved his thumb to trace the edge of Telerk's lips. "I love you."
"I'm not good enough," he blurted out before he could think better of it. Although, in the end it was the truth. "I'm just a stupid piece of space trash. I don't have posh manners and my diplomatic skills are completely nonexistent. I'm not even fit to be heir to my own heritage, and in that case it doesn't seem right to be with someone who's inheriting a whole planet themselves. You could do so much better than some stupid tech like me."
Gyth blinked and then let one hand fall to Telerk's waist, pulling him in closer. Reluctantly, Telerk let him, but he put his hands against Gyth's chest to keep the distance between them. "Your name and Haden's are synonymous with the latest innovations in magictech ships. You've worked your way up from nothing, and look how much you've accomplished, just look at how far you've come. How can you not think you're not good enough?" Gyth asked softly, his breath falling on Telerk's forehead.
"I left you. I love you so much it hurt to think about you and I just left you and didn't look back. You can't want that in a mate. You can't want me as a mate," Telerk mumbled into his chest.
"But I do want you as a mate and I do love you," Gyth bent down to whisper in his ear before nibbling on it ever so slightly. Telerk shivered and curled his fingers into the soft material of Gyth's shirt. "Can you accept that?"
"Yes," Telerk whispered, barely audible, before turning his head and taking control, kissing Gyth for all he was worth. Maybe he didn't deserve the man, and maybe he wasn't the best choice in mates, but if it was what Gyth wanted, he sure as hell wasn't going to complain. "Please," he almost whined as Gyth's hands hovered hesitantly at his shoulders.
"I'm not letting you go again," Gyth mumbled against his lips before wrapping his arms around him and hugging him almost painfully close.
"Good," Telerk grinned mischievously, before reacquainting himself with the bliss that was kissing Gyth. When they finally broke apart for air, he wrinkled his nose slightly. "Oh, and I'm sorry in advance for the twins."
"What?"
"Well, if you think I was an uncultured brat as a kid, they're about fifty times worse."
"Great, we'll send them to live with my parents," Gyth muttered, rather undiplomatically under his breath.
Telerk threw back his head and laughed.