Take My Son, Please
Rated T
By Cheezey

 

It was about a half hour before the state meeting was scheduled to begin, but a good half of the high seats of the nine high houses of Doom’s nobility were already present.  None dared to arrive late to a meeting called by King Zarkon himself, especially when he had sent his fleet commander to do the inviting personally to ensure their attendance, and besides, the royal family always served premium cocktails and appetizers.  That alone was reason enough to go early and socialize for a good number of the nobles.

 

The first to arrive had been old Dasavar of Trisk’staa, followed shortly by Tadack and Visycka of Aldar’ach, Cossack’s parents and by reputation the hardiest drinkers of the nobility—which was only fitting for the house that ran Doom’s winery business.  Dothmar and Chrien of Aletai’omath arrived shortly thereafter and made the necessary small talk, mostly with Dasavar, and Aroda of Dardra’esk when she and her husband Nadlax arrived.  About five minutes later, Kuryaki of Tonorm’oith came in, and when she saw that long-winded Dasavar and pushy Nadlax were both present, she sought her way to the cocktail bar quickly to avoid conversation with either.  She found Nadlax irritating, and while she had nothing personal against Dasavar, she had heard all about the details of his west wing renovation at a party earlier that month and knowing his fondness for repetition and poor memory she had no desire to hear all twenty minutes of it again. 

 

Not surprisingly, Kuryaki found Visycka drinking a strong Nemonian Iced Tea that she could detect the high alcohol level in by aroma from ten feet away, but since she had no pressing reason not to talk to her, and she seemed to be alone at the moment, the high seat of Tonorm’oith saw no reason not to strike up a casual conversation with half of the representation of house Aldar’ach.  “Nice to see you as always, Lady Visycka,” Kuryaki greeted her smoothly.  “What do you recommend from the royal bar?”

 

The already tipsy Visycka smiled and pushed a lock of her unruly mane of hair—a trait which her son Cossack had regrettably in his opinion inherited from her—out of the way and smiled affably at the other noble.  “Well, the whiskey’s a bit strong, a new brew from one of Zarkon’s newer planets I think, but it’s got a nice kick.  Doesn’t mix well though, and it’s a little rough to drink warm.  Of course I always like these if I’m not in a wine mood, but since my son said the king made this meeting out to be a big deal I figured I ought to go in prepared, you know.”

 

Kuryaki surveyed the selection and decided to just stick with something simple, and told the robot serving the drinks to just get her some of the house’s best wine.  Visycka gave her a thumbs-up approval when she saw the robot pull out a bottle from her family’s line, and Kuryaki took her glass and savored the aroma before taking a sip.  “Funny you should mention your son, Visycka.  He’s quite… a character.  A real charmer.”

 

The Aldar’ach noble smiled broadly at the praise.  “Oh yes, we’re quite proud of our Cossack, my terrible terror,” Visycka said happily, and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Kuryaki as she realized a moment later that there might have been a hint of sarcasm in the other woman’s tone.  “He did behave himself, I hope?”

 

Kuryaki smirked knowingly as she recalled her encounter with Cossack the day before.  “Define ‘behaved.’”

 

Visycka took a hearty swallow of her drink and winced.  “Oh no.  What did he do now?  Do you want me to have a word with him?”  She sighed.  “I adore him to pieces, but sometimes I swear that boy picked up every bad manner from his father and exaggerated them.”  She glanced over at Tadack, who was in the process of laughing boisterously at something with Ardek of Ermov’diast, who had just come in a few moments after Kuryaki. 

 

She gave a dismissive wave.  “Nothing worth disciplining him for, don’t worry.  It was rather amusing, actually.  In the process of trying to impress me, he toppled my liquor cart in a spectacular crash and then hit on me,” she told Visycka with a chuckle.  “Apparently he thought I was my daughter Sekavi.  I guess he didn’t realize that she was married, and didn’t recognize me.  Thinking a bit on it though, it has been years since I’ve seen all of your children.  The last affair you held at your place with more than your youngest ones present was your daughter’s wedding some years ago, and I don’t recall being introduced to your eldest son.”

 

Visycka blinked and set her empty drink down on the bar to be refilled and then eyed Kuryaki curiously.  “My Cossack hit on you?”

 

“Oh yes, it was quite flattering in a way.  After he knocked over my cart and doused himself in Tyrusian whiskey, I offered to have his uniform cleaned so he wouldn’t report back to King Zarkon reeking of a distillery.  It wouldn’t do to have the king thinking one of his high seats has little enough respect for his fleet commander that they get him stone drunk on duty after all.  Anyway after I got him out of his shirt, he must have taken it as encouragement because he tried to suggest a nice little place to take me to dinner and everything,” she chuckled.  “It takes a bit of, well,” she smirked, “spirit to come on to someone after making such a smashing impression.”

 

Cossack’s mother sighed as she envisioned him making an ass of himself in Kuryaki’s estate.  “He didn’t offend you, did he?” she asked suddenly, and picked up her newly refilled drink to take a generous swallow from it.  She knew all too well how crass her eldest son could be when he opened his mouth without thinking, which much like his father, happened often.  As it was Cossack had managed to drive off every arranged bride she’d tried to set him up with by either offending her or flat out refusing to cooperate.  The situation had left Visycka with a seemingly permanent headache when it came to trying to marry Cossack off to someone proper, as was her duty as a parent in the first circle of nobility.  He had also already offended the children of at least half of the high houses, and she did not need him alienating another even if Kuryaki had no unmarried daughters.

 

At that Kuryaki laughed.  “Offend me?  No,” she assured the other high seat.  “Flatter me and amuse me?  Yes.  It’s not every day someone my age gets hit on by someone younger than her children, and the king’s fleet commander at that.”

 

“You found it flattering?”  A surprised but pleased smile spread across Visycka’s lips as she realized that her marriage resistant son had just shown an interest in an equally available widow of the nobility.  Immediately the wheels began to turn in her head.  “Tell me, Kuryaki, did you otherwise like my son?”

 

“Oh yes, he was pleasant company aside from his suave pick up lines,” she responded wryly.  “He spent an hour or so at my place while my Berbils cleaned his clothes.  He’s a little rough around the edges, but a nice change from the usual pretentious stuffiness you see around here,” she said, and gestured to a couple of the snootier nobles on the other side of the room, from houses Garat’eth and Lorkim’orx.  “And your boy is easy on the eyes, which never hurts.”

 

Encouraged heavily by the favorable review of her eldest and difficult to marry son, Visycka leaned forward intently.  “Want to marry him?”

 

Kuryaki let out a lilting and hearty burst of laughter.  “Visycka, how many of those Nemonian Iced Teas have you had?”

 

“This is only my third and I’m otherwise quite sober,” she assured her.  “I’m very serious, Kuryaki.”

 

The other noble blinked in surprise when she realized from Visycka’s tone and the look on her face that she was indeed not joking and making an actual proposal.  “So I see,” Kuryaki murmured, and contemplated the suggestion despite its sudden and unorthodox origin.  Surprisingly it had merit when she considered the potential benefits of a union between the houses.  “You really are eager to get him married off, aren’t you?”

 

Visycka nodded.  “I’ve been trying to set him up with eligible ladies on and off for ten years, and damned if he hasn’t chased off or dodged every single one.  He finds a laundry list of excuses, usually that he isn’t interested or that they don’t understand or like him.”  She finished her drink and waved the robot bartender to get her yet another refill.  “But if he found you—an eligible nobility widow—attractive enough to try and seduce, that shoots at least one of his arguments right in the foot, and the fact that you didn’t mind it when he tried…”

 

“Well no, I didn’t find him offensive.  Like I said before, Cossack is quite… unique and he’s entertaining company.  But I never gave any serious consideration to remarrying anyone so young.”  She sighed.  “Not that I haven’t had offers in the twelve years since my husband was killed, but most of them are obviously after a chance to share the house’s seat title, or because they want get their claws into the family’s business and profits, or both.  I don’t want some young fool trying to take over the family business, and let’s face it, most of these ‘eligible sons’ I get introduced to see me as a rich widow they can advance themselves through while they cavort around with some young mistress.  Call me selfish, but I won’t put up with that, and most men my age are either long married or,” she glanced over at Dasavar, “too old or dull to make into a husband.”

 

Visycka’s eyes narrowed purposefully.  “Can I be blunt with you, Kuryaki?”

 

She raised an eyebrow.  “Far be it from me to stop you from something you excel at so well.  Go ahead.”

 

“I’ll be the first to admit I’d be proud to see my son as the high seat of a house, but being that he’s first in line to inherit ours when Tadack and I are gone it’s not like he’s looking to advance himself.  We’d been thinking all along that his bride would be the one advancing herself through him, and frankly at this point I’m willing to pair him with anyone eligible that’ll have him.  I won’t deny that it’s a nice coup for our family to have two children in that kind of position, but that’s not the primary motivation here.  More like a bonus.  It absolutely doesn’t reflect well that our house’s first son—and Doom’s fleet commander no less—doesn’t take his birth role seriously enough to settle down like he’s expected to.  At twenty-two staying single to chase easy women was excusable, at thirty-two it’s a stubborn refusal grow up.  I’ve tried explaining this to him, but it’s like talking to a brick wall, or like his father.”

 

Visycka sighed and then continued.  “As for him ruining your business affairs, trust me, Cossack doesn’t give a whit about nobility business.  It’s hard enough to get him to dress properly for one of the functions, let alone alter contracts or accounts or anything like that.  His father and I tried to get him involved in our family wine business more than once and he has no interest or motivation for it at all.  I thank the gods that my other children don’t share his rebelliousness, so it’ll run it just fine when we retire, but as far as Cossack goes, all he cares about is battleships and conquest.  I’d be surprised if he even bothers to read any paperwork you slap down in front of him.  If it doesn’t involve invading a planet or a high-tech robeast that tears things up in a spectacular destructive display, it’s not likely to keep his attention,” she explained to the other woman.  “Trust me—if Cossack hit on you, it wasn’t your title he was trying to get into.”

 

Leaning against the cocktail bar, Kuryaki considered Visycka’s words.  “Oh I’m certain of that.  That’s why I found him amusing rather than insulting… and the look on his face when I informed him that I wasn’t my daughter was quite telling.”  She swirled the remainder of wine around in her glass as she mulled over the pros and cons of Visycka’s proposal.  “I will say it’d be convenient to have a high connection with the fleet in the family again.  Yurak always kept me informed of anything it’d benefit me to know that reached his ears.”

 

“Which I’m sure heard plenty,” Visycka remarked with a wry look.

 

“Mmm-hmm, but I must admit, it’s strange to consider marrying the man who’s in his old job, and doubly so that he’s even younger than him.” 

 

“Younger men do have their points, Kuryaki.  Youthful looks, strong muscles, impressive stamina…”

 

“Indeed,” the other woman agreed.  “Provided they’re loyal and easily kept in line.”

 

A knowing smile crossed Visycka’s lips.  “Oh, it’ll be simple to keep my boy happy.  Laugh at his jokes and lavish him with attention and it’ll never occur to him to stray elsewhere.  Even though he’s a fleet commander and first son, he doesn’t even bother to keep much of a slave harem because he finds it too tedious to keep track of more than two names, and he said as much to his father once.  Trust me, if stroke his ego right you’ll not only have his fidelity but probably more attention than you ever asked for.”

 

“That sounds manageable enough.”

 

“Plus, think of how both our house’s affairs would benefit if we had the courtesy of family cooperation working for us,” Visycka pointed out.  “Your contacts could be a huge advantage with our marketing, and think of how nicely you could woo some of your associates into sweet deals with complementary samples of our best vintages.  Think of the slash in your entertainment expenses.”

 

“There would be mutual advantages,” Kuryaki agreed.  “If your son is willing to leave the business to me, marrying him would mean an end to my having to fend off the vultures.”  Especially my brother in law, she added silently.  Tonchelon, the particular in-law that she used the term “vulture” for was the pushy and obnoxious younger sibling of her first husband.  After his death Tonchelon had taken issue with her continued position as family matriarch when he was a blood relation to the core family and she had only married in, and he had gone to King Zarkon to protest it despite the fact that his late brother Sevakor had produced two heirs with Kuryaki prior to his death.  King Zarkon had only been willing to grant the petition if the title was transferred to Yurak, the eldest heir of the line, or his sister Sekavi as opposed to Tonchelon, so he had backed off, but he never got over it.  After Yurak’s death he had become bolder about trying to supplant her—first with remarks about how unfortunate it would be if something happened to her sole surviving child, and later by trying to convince her to marry his eighteen year old son through whom he could indirectly get control of the family.  Though Kuryaki had nothing against her nephew, the idea of marrying him was borderline incestuous even if he was not a blood relation to her, and Tonchelon’s arrogance absolutely infuriated her.  For that reason alone, Kuryaki found the notion of marrying Visycka’s son worth serious consideration.

 

She fell silent for a moment, and then met Visycka’s gaze as she presented another question.  “What about heirs?  Children?  I’d considered my days of bearing and rearing children over, but Cossack has none and I expect your family would want them from him.”

 

Visycka waved her hand in a dismissive manner.  “Please, my son is an overgrown child, but I’m sure he’ll do his part in fulfilling that obligation; it’s not like it’s hard on the men.  You’ve had kids, so you know how to handle it.  I’d be happy with just one from the union.”  She smiled hopefully at her.  “So does this mean you’ll take my son?  Please?”

 

She weighed the pros and cons one final time and then turned back to Visycka with her decision.  “Very well.  I’ll take him.”  She smiled.  “He’ll be a very unique addition to the house, and like you said, the deal does benefit all involved.”

 

Upon hearing that Visycka beamed.  “Wonderful!  You have no idea how thrilled I am to finally see my terrible terror go to someone respectable that’ll also appreciate him,” she gushed.  “I’ll start making preparations and announcements as soon as possible.  In fact, I’ll do some announcing at this meeting and spread the word.”

 

Surprised at the urgency in her voice, Kuryaki’s eyebrow rose.  “Er, shouldn’t we inform Cossack first and make sure he’s amenable to this before we make any announcements?”

 

Holding up her hand and shaking her head vehemently she replied, “Oh no.  If we ask him, he’ll say no.  Nothing against you personally, I’m sure, but he’s very,” she frowned, “stubborn, when it comes to marriage.  In fact, that’s something I should warn you about before we go any further.  If he can’t get his father and me to let him off the hook, he’ll probably come straight to you to try and scare you off.  Don’t let him get away with it.”

 

“Scare me off?” Kuryaki said, eyeing her curiously.  “Oh, I think I’ve heard some of these stories about his mishaps with engagements.  I had no idea he did it on purpose.”  She chuckled.  “I always thought he got that brash reputation by nature rather than act.”  She glanced briefly over at her betrothed’s father.

 

“Well, he is legitimately brash at times, but not nearly as bad as he acts whenever I’ve got him engaged.  So just understand that any vulgar behavior he may engage in is more than likely an act to make you call it quits.”

 

“You mean like informing me that he’s got a raging libido and is hung like a stallion like he did to that girl from Aletai’omath last year?”

 

Visycka frowned at the reminder of one of her son’s more infamous social faux pas, more so at Cossack than at Kuryaki however.  “Oh yes, that would be a prime example.  Also, contrary to what he might insist, I’m relatively sure he does not have problems with recurring communicable fungal rashes or sexually transmitted diseases, nor has he been diagnosed with any form of mental illness, and I assure you that we did raise him with an understanding of proper hygiene so if he goes on a shower strike for a few days that’s all a ploy.  Cossack is a bit of a slob, but not to the extent he’ll play it up, and certainly nothing that a decent cleaning staff can’t keep up with.”

 

Kuryaki nodded.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“Oh,” she added as she recalled another altar-dodging tactic of her son’s, “He may also try to pull the ‘I’m gay’ scam.  Don’t buy it.  Trust me, my boy will make no bones about how much he appreciates a nice-looking female until we line him up to marry one, and then he’s fabulous enough to wear a feather boa and suck face with Prince Lotor to get the point across.”

 

“I’d heard he was stone drunk when he did that; wasn’t it at one of the big royal-military victory celebrations last year?”

 

“Yes well, he was also engaged, and the fool girl became convinced that Lotor would get jealous and ended it with him the next day,” the exasperated Visycka replied.

 

Shaking her head slightly, Kuryaki said, “Well, thank you for the warning.  I’m sure the boa does nothing for him, but if he wants to kiss up that way to earn a promotion, far be it from me to interfere,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Are there any other fast ones I should be aware of?”

 

The lady of house Aldar’ach sloshed the ice cubes against her empty glass thoughtfully as she searched her memory, and then nodded.  “That’s most of them, but there is one other ploy he tried once.  I think he was getting desperate that time as even the stallion line didn’t put the girl completely off.”

 

“What ploy is that?”

 

“The duck,” Visycka said seriously.  “Or as Tadack and I now call it, the Quackers Maneuver.”

 

The high seat of Tonorm’oith blinked dubiously.  “Duck?  Quackers?”

 

Visycka nodded back to her.  “Way back when he was a little terror we bought him a little bath toy duck that he called Quackers.  He never,” she paused as she considered the best way to phase it, “quite outgrew his attachment to it.  We thought it was an oversight that it was still in the bathroom by the time he turned ten, but when a slave threw it out, Cossack got very angry.  He broke the slave’s hands in a tantrum and then ordered another one to get it back and clean it.  When we asked him why, he said Quackers was his ‘lucky rubber duckie’ and that was that.  Years later when Cossack left home to join the fleet, he still had Quackers and as far as I know took him with him,” she explained while Kuryaki listened to the account with a morbidly fascinated look on her face.

 

“Anyway, Tadack and I hadn’t really given the duck thought in years until one of his fiancées broke off their engagement because Cossack told her that he’d made a pact with an old ‘fleet buddy’ that neither would marry until the other did, and he was honor bound by his word or some nonsense like that.  The sap bought it and broke it off.  When I asked her for the friend’s name, she told me it was ‘Captain Quackers’ and I knew she’d been had.”  She let out a beleaguered sigh at the memory.  “Granted, the girl was an off-world noble and the name didn’t strike her as strange, but I wouldn’t put it past Cossack to try it again.”

 

“He used a rubber waterfowl to escape the altar.  Oh my,” Kuryaki said, and placed her empty wine glass on the bar.

 

Holding up her index finger to emphasize the point, she warned the other woman in a serious tone, “Don’t think for a moment he won’t try it on you if he gets desperate enough.  Stay a step ahead of him.”  She lowered her voice and leaned in closer.  “Silly as it sounds, maybe go pick up one of your own so he can’t claim that the duck has no partner or some asinine thing like that.  Who knows?  He mind find you understanding that little quirk of his an irresistible turn on.”

 

“If yesterday is any indication, turning Cossack on is like using an automatic motion sensor set on ‘sensitive’.  All you have to do is be the right shape and walk by.”

 

Visycka grinned.  “Well there you go!  You understand him already.  You two will be a wonderful match.  I can’t wait to share the good news!”  The Aldar’ach matriarch extended her hand.  “Is it a deal then?”

 

With a smile Kuryaki accepted her offered hand and shook it.  “Indeed it is, my future mother-in-law.”

 

“Cheers to that then!”  Visycka took her refilled-yet-again drink, toasted the air, and motioned to where their peers were gathering in anticipation of King Zarkon’s grand entrance.  “We’ll iron out the specifics later.  But please,” she leaned close one more time, “don’t call me mother-in-law.  It makes me feel old.”

 

The End

 

 

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