Desired By The Alien by Rosette Lex

had his head under his wing.
     
    She rested one hand against the edge of the stall door, and Bai jerked once, twice, and woke up, sluggishly lifting his head, four eyes blinking at her slowly. The crawler crooned quietly at her and climbed to his feet, shaking bedding out of his feathers and stretching as much as his limbs and neck allowed.
     
    Still sleepy, Bai ambled towards the stall door and rested his head on it. Vivienne took the cue to begin petting him, one hand idly running up and down his snout and forehead, between his nostrils and his eyes.
     
    “Que’s a bit of a strange one,” Vivienne informed the crawler conversationally.
     
    When Bai trilled at her curiously, she continued, unsure if he really had any idea of what she was saying but also uncaring.
     
    “He acts so big and tough, but I just heard him asking his dad for advice. His dead father.” She scratched the top of Bai’s head, and his eyes went half-lidded and he shifted on his feet.
     
    “It’s a little strange, don’t you think?” Vivienne wondered.
     
    “Considering everything I’ve seen him do and say, it’s a little strange for something to freak him out.”
     
    She fell silent when she heard the door to the stable open, and a moment later Que said quietly, “You are not as subtle as you think you are.”
     
    Vivienne sighed dejectedly and pulled her hand away from Bai, instead folding her arms over her chest and leaning one hip against the stall door. Bai trilled in neglected misery and nudged at her elbow with his nose, and then sagged against the stall door in feigned despair when she didn’t immediately resume petting him.
     
    “You saw me?” Vivienne asked.
     
    “I heard you,” Que clarified. “When you left. The others have quieter steps than you do.”
     
    Vivienne huffed out an irritated breath. “Really?”
     
    “My deepest apologies for informing you,” Que deadpanned. He cleared his throat.
     
    “Now, if you could just not acknowledge any of what you heard back there…”
     
    Vivienne laughed before she could help herself. “Are you crazy ?” she asked.
     
    “I finally find something that makes you seem like less of a heartless cartoon villain, and you want me to ignore it ?”
     
    “If it would damage my credibility, then yes ,” Que snapped in reply.
     
    Vivienne arched one eyebrow. “How will it damage your credibility?” she asked.
     
    “I’m not exactly going to go telling everyone on base what I heard. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t really talk to anyone who isn’t you unless they have feathers.” She gestured to the sulking crawler.
     
    “Even if I did, I’m not sure how it would somehow ruin your sparkling reputation.”
     
    Que sighed slowly, impatiently, as if he had to explain a complicated idea to a very young and particularly dim child.
     
    “I wish to lead the inari,” he replied. “You know this. But even if I fulfill the prophecy—even if I make you mine—I must still be a leader if I want them to respect my authority.”
     
    When nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, Vivienne slowly said, “Okay…?”
     
    Que rolled his eyes.
     
    “A leader is strong. He does not spend his time questioning his own decisions. He does not bow to those below him. He rises above, and he does not let those below him question him or disobey him.” He leveled her with an irritated look, his brows furrowed.
     
    “And yet you have defied me, and I let you. You have questioned me. I have questioned myself in regards to you, because I do not wish to hurt you, even though doing so has denied me the one thing that will guarantee my spot as king.” He scoffed.
     
    “How am I supposed to lead and rise above if I cannot even rise above one person?”
     
    Vivienne observed him in silence for a long moment, looking thoughtful and contemplative.
     
    Eventually, with her head tipped to one side, she said plainly, “Your entire concept of leadership is skewed.”
     
    Que’s