The king was dead, but no one was saying long live the king.

Everyone who had seen the state of health the late King Julien XIIth was in had expected his death, sooner or later. But that didn't stop it from throwing the rulership of the country in a standstill when it arrived. Madagascar was left without a king and Prince Julien could not inherit his father's throne until he fulfilled the deal he had made with his father and married.

The day it had happened, the entire household started making preparations for returning back to the capital, not only for the funeral, but staying for good. They left the next day, in two separate jets that came to pick them up. Madagascan roads are not so good if you want to travel fast and comfortably from one place to another and you have to transport something so valuable like the recently deceased king's body.

Julien, now the only living Madagascan royal of his name, was looking forlornly out one of the jet's windows. It was clear that one aspect or another of his father's passing was affecting him. What it wasn't clear, was which one. Not even to his mother and sister, who were sitting across from him. They both knew that in the last years the two men had started seeing eye to eye less and less. So dejected was he, in fact, that he couldn't be bothered to peel his little nephew Mort from around his ankles.

On the other side of the aisle, the four members of the PENGUIN team were sitting, each caught up in their own thoughts.

'Where did you get that jacket from anyway, Private?' asked Skipper, shaking himself off of the images in his own mind. He wanted to start a conversation with his team, the question was just a pretext.

'Oh, I think the princess thinks… well, never mind what the princess thinks…' his teammates had all turned curious eyes on him by now. 'We played dress up. One time. I got something out of it.' He finished quite pleased.

'Dress up? Alrighty then.' Concluded Skipper. 'Men I have something to tell you.' The tone in his voice indicated something important was about to be discussed. Something he would usually dub "classified". 'Yesterday evening I received communications from home base. First of all, they were very pissed off they had to find out about the death through the normal diplomatic channels and not directly from me. Secondly, they no longer intend to send reinforcements. The top dog made it sure I understood they made the deal with King Julien XIIth so now that he's kaput they will not give any military aid to anyone else here. They want us to return.'

'It sounds like you're about to suggest disregarding direct orders, sir.' Said Kowalski.

'Yes, I am.' Private's faint gasp was heard. '86 the fainting spell, Private. That poor schmuck will be over and done with in a few days if we leave him alone now.' Skipper said, inclining his head towards Julien. 'He had it easy so far. That house was isolated. And after this funeral all eyes will inevitably turn on him. Be it with good or bad intentions.'

He let them chew on that information for awhile. Acting against the will of some of the most powerful men in state was not something one asked everyday. And for what? Damn his honour. And damn his obsession with seeing every mission through. He had a niggling feeling in the back of his head, like a voice, that wanted to draw his attention to the fact that maybe he was doing it for something else as well.

Skipper scowled. A silver bolt of fear and nervousness shot through him as the thought of that kiss a couple of nights ago came to his mind unbidden. What a big coward he was! He had not had an opportunity to ask the Prince why he had done it and was not eager at all, apprehensive of what that discussion might uncover. He was firmly convinced that it was one of Julien's flukes or so he kept telling himself.

His musing were interrupted by Private, who had made up his mind. Skipper was glad for the change in subject, his mind was becoming a dangerous place, it seemed.

'I made up my mind. I'll stay with you, Skipper.' Declared Private, although he was still worrying his bottom lip nervously.

'Uuuh, color me surprised!' murmured Rico, sarcastically.

'What?!'

'Private is right. Besides, how are you going to help Julien all by yourself, Skipper?' said Kowalski 'You are going to need my awesome brain power.' After Kowalski's modest declaration they all turned to Rico left the only one not falling over himself to fawn over his commander and disregard orders at the same time.

'Oh, c'mon! How do I always end up the bad guy!'

'Bad Rico!'

'Are you gonna embark on the next plane and fly alone back to New York?' asked Kowalski.

'… no.' said Rico, then slumped in his chair.

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The funeral had not been anything grandiose or meant to attract too much unnecessary attention. By a royal funeral standard. It was the first public appearance of the royal family since their return in Antananarivo and it had given them one important lesson. The people had split in two, one half still friendly and open to the monarchy, the other baying for their blood goaded along by the terrorist group. It had also convinced the Queen that dangerous things were at work and she decided to overlook protocol. She may not have liked the contract between her son and her husband, but a three months period of mourning was not practical at a time like this. Julien needed to be crowned as soon as possible.

Julien entered his room, exhausted. If it wasn't from partying and dance it was quite the foreign concept to him. It was the first time he could fully enjoy his room since he had returned. His room. His home, not that far away place in the south his father enjoyed so much. He was so glad of being here, with his things he loved. Julien made his way in the semidarkness to a side of the room where a desk and shelves were. He touched things with a smile remembering them as his by shape, size or texture alone. He stretched on the soft bed and let his body relax for a moment or two. A cool breeze was entering through the open doors of the balcony, ruffling the curtains and it brought the voices of the city at night, beyond the courtyard gates.

A feeling of righteous indignation (in his eyes, at least) flared up in his chest as he thought of those people today, casting doubt over his life. Commoners had no place to doubt him or his family. Julien's eyes shot open as the face of his father surfaced over the images in his mind. Maybe the king had not made his way to the ancestors and instead was going to haunt Julien for all his life. He sat up and made his way to the balcony, wanting to cool his head with the clear night breeze.

He was looking at the first star that had come up in the sky that evening, a wishing star (when they were little, he and his sister used to call it a "gimme, gimme star") when the door to his room opened behind him. There was only one person left who could enter his room without knocking.

'Honestly Julien. Why do you stay in this darkness! We are not animals!' his mother scolded. Her hand searched along the wall until it found the light switch. 'I came with good news!' Queen Malala said with a bright smile moving over to the balcony to stand next to her son. He gave her an inquiring look. 'I have managed to convince the Council to sidestep a few things here and there. You will be crowned as soon as possible. After the wedding, of course. Isn't that great news?'

'Great news, yes…' Like any mother, Queen Malala could sense when something was troubling her son and now he was silently raising red flags. She took his face in her hands and turned it to face her.

'Julien, I would never say this in any other circumstance, but look at your father's death like a blessing from the gods. You will make a far better king. Trust me. And you'll make that girl a good and caring husband.'

'At least as good and caring as he was, let's hope.' He retorted coldly. That last remark cut deep and she wondered why he still felt the need to remind them both of that when it was gone now.

'Oh, Julien you and your jokes.' She replied patting his cheek. She turned and exited his rooms. In the second she opened the door, Julien could glimpse through the open door the man still guarding his door, now chatting with the other, who had escorted his mother here.

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The Affirmation was an old tradition, but right now Julian wished he did not live in a society that put so much stock on customs. Waiting to go in that hall was nerve wracking in itself. He was picking through the cracked door in the hall at the gathering crowd and wringing his hands.

'Relax, Ringtail! It can't be that bad.' Skipper said from behind him. Since their walk in the forest Skipper had taken to calling him Ringtail, after his alleged clan ancestor spirit, in retaliation for Julien's constant use of the name "penguin". With just a nod of acknowledgment they returned to their places, waiting in the antechamber. The Queen was talking in hushed tones with her daughter and Princess Leia on the other side of the room.

When the great doors opened wide, Julien knew he had to make his way in the hall for the ceremony. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and stood up only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

'Do I… Should I go in there with you?' asked Skipper. Julien would have loved some support, but tradition dictated he had to do this alone.

'No. This is official, you understand.' Skipper quirked an eyebrow.

'Sure.'

The Affirmation ceremony usually took place outside. Everyone in the kingdom could attend, since it was a ritualistic, symbolic pledge the king took in front of his people. They couldn't afford that anymore, so the ceremony was moved inside the palace confines and the people who wanted to attend had been rigorously checked for weapons. They were at the back of the hall, clearly separated from the Council presiding over the whole event. There was clear contrast between this attendance and the multitudes that would swarm in years past at other Affirmations.

With every step he took to the dais, Julien's heart thundered in his chest a bit stronger. A short, stout man was waiting for him on the platform. He looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place him right now, nor could his brain summon enough power to divide its attention for this matter as well. He stopped in the center and turned to the room. He looked over the crowed, first at the Council, its members each and everyone older than him he was certain; then at the people looking back at him. He tried to put on an air of confidence or haughtiness, something that would look at home on him, but it didn't feel like it was working.

'Behold! Our Prince Julien, future King Julien the XIIIth of Madagascar!' the stout man was now standing next to him reading from a scroll. 'Are you ready to make the pledge, Your Majesty?' the man asked him and it took Julien a second to realize he had to answer back. This too was part of the ceremony. They were not having a friendly chat.

'Yes, I am.'

'Will the first member of the Council come forward as the representative of the people.' The man read from his scroll. Julien saw a man rising from his seat and coming up to the dais. He was neither too old nor too young, but had a severe air about him. Julien had rehearsed this part countless times. Anyone with any aspirations of being a king had to know the following lines by heart. They turned to each other.

'We as your people do not ask anything more than what you give freely.' Anyone with a bit of mind and some knowledge about governing could tell that those were words for ceremony. Peoples are rarely that benevolent with their leaders.

'I give you my wisdom.' Declared Julien the rehearsed phrase. The Council member repeated his first words and the Prince answered. 'I give you my courage.' Again the same pattern was repeated and Julien answered 'I give you my life in service.'

And with that the ceremony had ended. It had not been half bad. The Council member was making his way back to his place and the people in the hall were clapping and some cheering. Julien was ready to turn to leave when a voice somewhere at the middle of the large chamber shouted.

'King Julien! Your country's in tatters!' silence fell over the crowd and Julien's fear came flooding back to him. 'You're tacking over, but those criminals are tearing at the land and its people!' encouraging "Yeahs!' from the crowd and angered "Who let them in?" from the Council members could be heard.

'King Julien, do something where your father couldn't!' another voice shouted 'We'd rather die than live under their reign of terror! If those pledges were true, Julien!'

Other voices picked it up and soon almost the whole hall was chanting his name. He wanted to shout back at them "Those words were just for show! I don't have any courage or wisdom to give you! Don't put your hopes in me!"

'ENOUGH!' he roared at the crowd and bolted from the hall, pass a stunned Skipper.

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Skipper was prepared for a riot or a public lynching, not that Julien would run from a cheering crowd. He had an inkling of what was wrong with the picture, but he wouldn't bet his right hand on it at the moment. He eyed the man still standing on the dais overlooking the evacuation of the crowd. His name was Maurice, the late king's advisor. He was the man surreptitiously standing behind the king's chair on that first night. And he was also the perfect candidate for their next operation. Skipper turned to his team.

'Men, I'll go look for Ringtail. Kowalski, you three go talk to Maurice as we've discussed.' With that he left them for his quarry.

The man barely had any experience with one taciturn member of the team, he had no idea about three of them together. They approached him, Kowalski in the lead.

'Hi! Maurice, was it?'

'Yeah… Can I help you?'

'Is there anywhere we could talk more privately?' at that, Maurice shot a worried look their way, but answered nonetheless.

'Um… the library, maybe.'

'This place has a library?' asked Kowalski, the interest for something else present in his voice.

'Yeah… Come with me.'

They walked along a few corridors until they came to a large, dark, wooden door. Maurice opened it and they entered a fairly sized room, with walls covered in books on three sides from ceiling to floor. An "Oooh!' escaped Kowalski's lips and he approached the closest shelf like hypnotized.

'Kowalski, we're here for a reason!' chastised Private.

'But I haven't done anything remotely intellectual for ages!'

'For ages though?' asked Rico. 'Come on!' he turned his friend back to the mission at hand.

'So what did you guys wanted a more private room for?' asked Maurice a bit suspicious.

'Maurice, right…' said Kowalski, clasping his hands, his mind back on the task. 'Why don't we sit down?' he gestured to one of the tables in the room. 'You were King Julien XII's advisor?'

'Umm… yeah. You guys seem to know quite a bit about me, but I can't remember even introducing myself to you. Him, I know.' He said gesturing to Rico. 'Since he was everywhere with the king. But you two… How do you…'

'Classified!' Kowalski cut him off.

'Really? Then why don't you tell me what you know?' Kowalski was impressed that the man was so unruffled.

'I don't really think…' tried Private.

'Oh, come on! It's about me, anyway.'

'We know your full name. date and location of birth. We know you occupied the position of advisor in the last years, only after your father, the king's last advisor, died. We know…'

'Alright! Do you actually want something or just wanted to show off your information acquiring skills?' asked Maurice.

Now came the hardest part. The tree men eyed each other knowing that how they would word their proposition would make or break their operation.

'We have a plan. Quite a brilliant plan, if I can say so myself.' Said Kowalski 'But we are immobilized here protecting our charges almost 24/7. So we need an extra man to complete the plan. After careful consideration we came to the conclusion that you are that man.' Maurice looked from one to the other very carefully trying to see anything amiss.

'And what does this plan consist of?'

'You would have to go undercover into Clemson's camp as close as you can to him.'

'WHAT?! Are you insane? Are you trying to kill me?!'

None of them managed to give a good answer as the door opened and in stepped Skipper.

'Chill, Maurice!' he said, with a charming smile. 'No one is trying to kill you. Come, I'll explain.' He continued, while guiding Maurice towards the door with an arm around his shoulders.

'Skipper, how was it with Julien? Did you find him?' asked Private genuinely concerned. Maurice turned as well, the question sparking his interest.

'I'll tell you later.'

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He left his men to deal with Maurice and went looking for Julien. He hoped the royal pain in the side was not having a strop or that he didn't leave the premise of the building. But he couldn't have in the short time that had elapsed. While Skipper walked down corridors he had the vague impression of being in a maze.

After several minutes of searching, a door, cracked open, drew his attention. He peered inside, into a room that looked to be some kind of living room or drawing room and there, seated with his back towards the door was Julien.

'There you are, Ringtail!' said Skipper advancing into the room. 'You should know by now not to run away like that. You have a tendency to do that, you know…' he trailed off as Julien turned his face to him with a slight frown. What really stunned him into silence though was the fact that he was crying.

'Go away!' he said through clenched teeth. Skipper shook himself from his staring.

'What? No!'

'You have no right to see me like this! Leave!' Skipper watched him skeptically, fighting his natural urge to lift his eyebrow.

'Do you really want to be alone or is that just the pride in you speaking?' he got no answer in return, but the commando leader could see Julien's jaw clench harder than necessary. 'Yeah, that's what I thought. Now dry your eyes. Tears are for civilians.'

'I am a civilian, you …'

'Oh right, right.' He sat on the settee next to Julien. 'Why so glum, chum?' Julien looked at him confused for a few seconds, while he tried to decipher the meaning of the question in his mind.

'I swear, you really do not have eyes in that flat head of yours!' the prince said, pushing one finger against Skipper's forehead.

'Hey!'

'Didn't you see what happened in there? Didn't you hear those people?'

'Yeah, but I thought you'd be angry that they'd interrupted your ceremony or something like that. Not…' Skipper could swear that there was disappointment in the look Julien gave him.

'I never thought about them, the people. What would they want. They were so far removed until now. But their expectations are natural, though I don't think I can fulfill any of them. They scare me. And it also scares me that each and every one of them will compare me not only with my father, but with all my ancestors.' Skipper put a reassuring hand on Julien's shoulder.

'Listen… um… being scared is good sometimes, it motivates you to fight. I can vouch for that. But you can't let it dominate you. On that stage, just now, you let your fear dominate you and you made a scene.'

'Thank you… I guess?' said Julien.

'You're welcome.' Skipper made to get up, but changed his mind in the middle and sat back down. 'Can I ask you something, while we're here?'

'Go ahead.' Said Julien, uncertain.

'Why did you kiss me back some nights ago?' Skipper had made up his mind to ask about the kiss seconds ago. Seeing Julien so open mad him think that maybe he would answer truthfully about his motivation behind the kiss as well.

'I was thanking you for your apology.'

'Oh!' that was disappointing. He knew it. They had a weird custom about kissing when apologizing.

'Oh? heh! And I was testing the waters.'

'Testing the waters?' Skipper searched Julien's face for any sign that he was talking about what he thought he was talking about.

'You responded quite well until you ran away.' Julien waited, maybe the commando wanted to say something, but the man was just watching him with big blue eyes. 'Gee, I think it's the flat head. It presses on your brain.' With that he leaned forward and kissed the man, even more boldly than the first time. 'Cute!'

'Even with a flat head?'

'More so.' This time Skipper initiated the kiss. It was different than any other that he had experienced with women before. It triggered a thrill of the new he enjoyed.

After a few minutes Skipper stood up, pulling Julien after him.

'I have some business to take care of with my men. Just stay somewhere I know you're safe. Here or your room.'

He turned to go, but Julien pulled him in for a final kiss.

A.N.: I struggled with this chapter for almost a month and I still don't think I got the right tone for it. It was one of those I really wanted to get out of the way. It had information I needed to convey, but I really wanted it over so I could get to other more enjoyable chapters.