Chapter Text
“Will Doom be joining me?” Sue asked as Stefania pulled out a chair for her.
“I’m afraid not, my mistress,” the android replied.
“Ah, well, I’ll have to eat all this myself,” Sue said, trying to make a light joke. Doom rarely made it to dinner it seemed. Tonight he was off arguing with the United Nations over his right to annex Symkaria.
The android didn’t notice. “The master is very generous. Everything untouched will go to the civilians.”
“That’s, um, very kind of him, Stefania.”
“Indeed. With your leave?”
Sue nodded, bidding Stefania to make herself useful somewhere else. Stefania had already made it clear in the past that servants weren’t allowed to dine with their mistress.
It had indeed been very kind of Doom to create Stefania as Sue’s own personal assistant after she noted all his androids were male in appearance. It was rather awkward seeing multiple Dooms in one place, she’d confessed, giving him the inspiration to make a unique android modeled after a typical Latverian woman when she made it clear she didn’t want an automaton replica of herself.
And so Stefania was added to the list of gifts bestowed upon Susan by her husband.
The day after their ‘rushed’ nuptials, he’d given her carte blanche on assembling a wardrobe befitting a queen. Her eyes lit up at all the different fabrics, textures, colors, and designers available to her without any need to worry over cost. Doom assured her all his spending came from his own doings, such as the hundreds of patents he owned, rather than the coffers of the Latverian people. Once all the fittings had been measured, Sue finally grinned for the first time since ‘arriving’ in Latveria. She’d always wanted to truly be able to ‘dress up’ ever since she was just a girl from Long Island playing with her mommy’s clothes. And now she lived in a castle with a king, or absolute monarch and rightful leader as he preferred. Her grin had slowly slipped away as she remembered the time Ben and Johnny’s roughhousing damaged her beloved custom-made dresses beyond repair. Sue’s heart sank as she thought of her brother, who had been so fearful for her when he came to bring her home, only to learn it was too late. Ben managed to hold it better together than she ever imagined he could have. If it had been Alicia, she knew he would’ve torn Castle Doom apart brick by brick. And Reed…
“Just for you, my lady,” one of Doom’s chefs announced, interrupting her thoughts.
“Oh, I must’ve drifted someplace else, I’m afraid.”
“My cuisine will take you away.” The chef named Tibor braved a wink at her — something he would never risk in Doom’s presence. “Just between you and me, my queen, I’ve noticed you don’t favor Latverian cuisine.”
Sue blushed. “It’s just different.”
“No need to worry. With the master away, I experimented with American food.”
Sue’s stomach grumbled at the thought of a nice, juicy burger or a hot dog.
“Ah, I see that pleases you.”
“It does! I’m curious to see this experimentation of yours.” Sue smiled at actually being able to speak to someone who had a spark of joy. She had little desire to speak to Boris, Doom’s most trusted man, or any of his advisors who would report every word back to him. Even young Kristoff, Doom’s ward, watched her wearily, not sure about this new woman brought into the fold.
Tibor’s experimenting with American cuisine focused on the Northeast in deference to Sue’s roots. He presented her with a Waldorf salad and clam chowder, making her curious about where Latveria got its seafood from considering it was a landlocked nation, but he hurried off before she could ask. Per usual, Sue ate alone in the massive dining hall. On occasion, Doom held a banquet for diplomats or other esteemed visitors, but she could only think of two or three times she’d been able to eat alone with Doom. And by the time dinner was served, Kristoff was already put to bed by his governess, Frau Mueller.
The food hit the spot, although it increased her desire for more familiar foods. While Doom’s table always featured a variety of dishes, she’d grown tired of having to pretend to eat the pickled cabbages leaves and pastrami. At least she could brave the Latverian frost having grown up with that type of weather. Too bad Doom didn’t rule a tropical nation, though.
After giving her compliments to the chef, Sue made the walk to the private quarters of the castle, ignoring the legion of Doombots and Servoguards silently watching her move by. Another gift from Doom had been her luxurious rooms. While they were near his own wing, she still had her own privacy and the ability to decorate her space however she pleased. She thought of her decorating as very tasteful as she tried to preserve the rustic nature of castle dwelling with the comforts of her old home.
Homesickness struck the worst at night. Her days provided plenty of distractions as she learned her new roles, whether that was practicing her Latverian with her no-nonsense ancient tutor provided by Doom, reading on the country's history, or sitting still for hours posing for royal portraits. But at night, she was alone with her thoughts.
“I’ve brought you your mail up from the mailroom, my mistress,” Stefania said, motioning towards Susan’s office area off from her bedroom.
“Thanks, Stefania. I’ll get to it.”
“There is no need to rush your correspondence,” the android replied flatly.
“Of course not.”
“Would you like for me to start your bath?”
Sue paused before agreeing. Perhaps a nice soak in the tub would bring her some peace.
Once the massive bath was ready, she slowly worked herself into the warm water, sighing as it enveloped her body. There were some perks to being married to Doom.
Married to Doom…
How funny life could be.
All this time she fretted over Namor and Reed just to end up as Mrs. Victor von Doom. Or as she was known on paper, Consort to the Absolute Monarch and Rightful Ruler of Latveria.
Guess she really wanted to think about things tonight, she decided. The only thing on her body now was the sigil ring he’d placed on her finger a few months earlier. She studied it, twisting it around her finger. A hidden lever on the backside of the ring could be pulled to sound an alarm to alert Doom to her location should she ever need him.
It was all very strange. Doom wasn’t that bad of a husband, certainly not as bad as she would’ve imagined. Maybe it was cognitive dissonance, she supposed, remembering the concept appearing in her introductory psychology course back when she attended Empire. How clueless she was back then. No powers or enemies, just a girl blossoming into adulthood while trying to support herself and her little brother. Her biggest worries had been getting Reed to notice her when he lost himself in research and getting Aunt Marygay’s permission to go out to the movies. She hadn’t even known of a country called Latveria back then, despite how close she came to meeting Doom at Empire when he attended. Life had a way. Before the loss of her mother, her father used to take the family to visit their cabin up in Canada, her only excursion outside of the United States before her powers. What would her younger self think if she could time travel? Space? Invisibility? Married to someone called Doctor Doom?
Sue rinsed her hair and mused that Doom probably could make that happen with all his yarn about quantum mechanics. She’d kept mostly silent on the subjects of his politics and ploys. See no evil, hear no evil. It just made things easier for her. Sure, she didn’t agree with his standings on several things — they’d had a long discussion on the merits and flaws of democracy — but he didn’t treat her like a tyrant. In fact, Doom proved himself to be a rather courteous and charitable husband, always granting her privileges ‘befitting her station,’ such as gifting her a beautiful chestnut mare and installing a pool in an unused area of the castle upon learning of her talent for swimming. She’d made one throwaway comment about her time on the varsity swim team and before she knew it, a fleet of Doombots began breaking ground. He’d even gone out of his way to fly her Aunt Marygay and aging grandmother out to visit them shortly after the wedding, granting them a sizable ‘donation’ for raising Sue. Furthermore, she’d joined a small group allowed to address Doom by his given name in private. Lastly, he’d kept his word by lessening his aggression towards the Fantastic Four — more not wanting to confront his brother-in-law thus upsetting Sue than surrendering his conquest of proving superiority over Reed.
Sue thought of the blue outfit she’d spent so much time sketching and creating. She’d spent hours deciding on the perfect shade of blue — her favorite color — before showing her designs to Reed, who then perfected them on the molecular level. Rising out of the tub, she sighed as wished she at least still had her uniform. Johnny’s girlfriend, Crystal, had assumed its use when she took over, making Sue hold her tongue. It wasn’t worth the fight.
Adorned in a comfy robe, Sue exited her bathroom and came face-to-face with Stefania.
“Oh, Stefania.”
“Do you have need of anything, my mistress?”
“No, I don’t think I do. I might answer a few letters before bed.”
“As you wish, my queen.” Stefania bowed and turned away.
“You can call me Sue.”
Stefania stilled. “The master has programmed me to address my mistress only with respectful titles.”
Sue sighed. Always with decorum. She even couldn’t remember the last time anyone called her ‘Sue.’
“Okay. Good night, Stefania. Wake me up at seven.”
“Yes, my queen.”
Stefania left the queen’s chambers to take her post alongside Doom’s most enhanced Servobots to guard the entrance to the family area of the castle.
“Victor couldn’t program her to smile?” Sue said under her breath, making her way over to her office. She placed aside a few invitations, needing to discuss her schedule with her secretary while others would need Doom’s input. Normally, she only answered letters from ‘admirers’ if time permitted, but the handwriting on one envelope caught her eye.
It seemed familiar, although she didn’t recognize one Janos Vihar. Doom had discussed potential dangers that could come through the mail like bombs or poisons, but all mail to Castle Doom was vetted and screened, assuring her of the contents' safety. She gingerly opened the letter with her letter opener, revealing a piece of paper with messy handwriting.
Sue,
Have you been able to get my other letters? We’ve been trying to reach you, but Doom is probably censoring some of it. Are you okay? Sis, I know you want to be brave and keep us safe, but please don’t let fear control you. If you need me, just write back. I’ve seen you and Doom on TV and stuff. You look great, but are you happy? That smile doesn’t seem right to me. I’ll be here if you need me.
Your favorite brother,
Johnny.
Johnny! Of course! She knew his terrible scrawl. How many times had she tried to fix his handwriting?
Other letters?
She reviewed the letters she’d saved from her brother, Reed, and Ben, noting there were just a few here and there. Her shoulders slumped as she didn’t doubt for a moment that Doom was behind that. Doom allowed her to write to whoever and even gave her a private phone line, but she never doubted that some ancient servant or android listened in on her calls eager to report any subterfuge. But not letting her own brother speak to her?
Johnny,
I am happy. Don’t worry about m-
Sue stilled her pen and wondered. Was this truly happiness? Could she be happy with all these material things when her heart missed her old twin bed back in the Baxter Building. She’d even found herself missing Ben and Johnny’s fights in the silence of the massive castle. It sometimes felt like a gilded cage when she couldn’t leave without a fleet of guards watching her every moment for a would-be attacker. At least back home, she could render herself invisible if she wasn’t in a mood to sign autographs when she went out. Her attempts at throwing off the Doombots were fruitless and only earned her a swift ‘talking to’ from Doom regarding her need for his safety measures.
She shivered as remembered Doom telling her how being married to him meant his enemies could use her as a pawn.
A pawn.
That’s the word, isn’t it, she thought. Hadn’t Doom only married her to spite Reed?
Johnny,
I don’t know if I’m happy.