Chapter Text
The first time any of the Derse Dreamers lay their eyes on the troll slave, he is refusing to look at anything other than the floor; possibly because he can't lift his head. The collar around his neck is a massive, gaudy thing, made out of gold and studded with so many gems that together they probably add up to half his body weight, not that there is very much of him to begin with. In contrast, he is dressed only in a pair of bright red pants, out of a fabric so filmy that it's just this side of transparent.
He shuffles along with the pull of a chain attached to his collar, and the troll holding the other end is certainly not hesitant about pulling.
Rose's lips barely move as she whispers, “That collar is too tight.”
“Just keep smiling,” Dirk instructs, even as his own face is frozen in an impassable mask. None of them are smiling, not even Roxy.
The Alternian ambassador gives an oily smile as he steps forward and starts on a dry but politically mandated speech about how deeply delighted the Condesce is to be offering them this gift and how honored she is that they've accepted it and what good things this heralds for the future of the relationship between their two kingdoms.
When the ambassador gets to this last part of the speech, Dave makes a sound in his throat and leans towards Rose, sitting on the throne to his right.
“Yeah, I think we all know the only reason she's so generous is because she knows she'd be caught in the blast radius if things went pear-shaped here,” he whispers.
“And I think we all know that the reason we're accepting is because we don't want to be the center of that blast radius,” Dirk interjects dryly.
Dave keeps quiet for the rest of the ceremony.
He doesn't really look at the so-called gift. He looks at the ambassador, at the crowds of courtiers observing these proceedings, at the windows, at the ceilings, but he really doesn't have it in him to look at the poor, miserable troll being trotted out before him.
It reminds him much too keenly of when Prospit sent over four purebred horses for Dirk's birthday and they were presented before the four thrones in a similar manner. Back then, Dirk could barely restrain his delight. Now he regards these proceedings with a stony expression.
Roxy is just as quiet, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Dave catches her eye (as well as he can with his shades on) and she shakes her head slightly, as if to say nothing's wrong. She's lying, but then again, they will all feel much better once this spectacle is over.
When the ambassador's speech finally winds down, Rose rises and says a few words as well, amounting to little more than 'thanks a lot, now get the fuck out', and the ambassador's smile turns sour and forced at this quick dismissal.
The slave is pushed forward—the ambassador prods him in the ribs with his cane, and the way the tinier troll flinches is awful—and he stumbles. His handler reluctantly gives up the chain to a Dersite servant and bows to the Dreamers, but only as low as etiquette dictates and not a millimeter more.
Rose dismisses court and all four Derse Dreamers leave the throne room together. It's only at this point, as they are filing out of the room, that Dave looks at the troll, and by chance, it is at the same time that the troll dares sneak a glance at his new masters. His eyes flick towards them so quickly—a flash of red, a tiny twitch of the head—that Dave almost thinks he imagined the gesture. But his stomach still ties itself in knots and disgust settles deep in his bones. He doesn't know how he's going to do this.