It is Lotor’s fault that I am in this state. Lotor’s fault that the fight has been knocked out of me. For all the insistences I have made, claiming that he was the biggest monster in the galaxy, a hidden part of me had believed he wasn’t completely unfeeling. That he cared if not about me as a person, then as the possession I was to him. I didn’t think myself treasured, but I had believed he valued me enough to not allow another to lay a hand on me. I had thought his jealousy alone would protect me, that his obsessive need to posses me would keep all other Drules at bay.
I think myself stupid now. Stupid for daring to believe I was safe in this one way. I feel betrayed, by a man I hadn’t realized I was depending on for protection. But I also feel betrayed by my own self, by the accidental trust I had placed on my position as Lotor’s slave. I wonder then how many other women have made the same mistake, how many have been tossed aside once Lotor’s interest in them waned. That thought brings more fear to me. I am wondering if Garrant will only be the first of many other men to use and abuse me. My stomach turns at that thought, the many drinks I have had settling uneasily inside me. The halls seem to spin madly about, and I shift in Garrant’s arms, my eyes falling close.
I don’t miss the way he tightens his grip on me in warning. Garrant will not tolerate an attempt to escape. Right now I’m not sure I could walk, let alone run unassisted and I curse my idiocy for the number of drinks I had partaken of in so short a time. It was enough to hinder my actions, but not enough to keep me from feeling. From my thoughts and my despair, to my hurt and the realization that I was about to be raped by some strange Drule. A low whimper escapes me then, frustration blooming at my helplessness. Garrant lets out a low, throaty chuckle in response, my own head lowering to slump weakly against his shoulder.
I don’t think I truly fall asleep, but somehow time slips from me. A door is forced open, and then I feel the bed against my back. Garrant has thrown me down, my stomach protesting noisily at the way I bounce against the mattress. My eyes snap open just as the room floods with light, Garrant grinning down at me with those razor sharp teeth. I cannot help the tremble that starts from within, my shaking right hand raising to shield my eyes from the sudden light. That shaking seems to please the Drule, the man all but purring as he begins the process of unfastening the many snaps of his jacket.
I cannot grow any more alarmed. Not when I already know his intent. Nor can I feel grateful for the time his undressing will buy me, not when I know it is only a brief respite at best. Shaking harder, I slowly sit up, Garrant tensing as he monitors my movements. He’s between me and the door, and I wonder if he’s even bothered to lock it, or if he’s cocky enough to think there’s no chance of my escaping him.
The jacket is undone, Garrant carefully laying down his medal decorated jacket. He values those medals, those honors earned doing the Empire’s foul deeds. The thin shirt under the jacket doesn’t merit the same concern, the Drule all but shredding it with his claws in his haste to remove it. I’m left staring at his bare torso, seeing the many scars of a battle hardened warrior from the front lines.
“Not as pretty or as perfect as Lotor, am I?” Garrant asks, dropping the remains of his shirt on the floor. He still wears his trousers, various pouches, even a dagger’s sheathe attached to it’s belt. I wait for him to remove the rest, but Garrant seems intent on an answer.
“No.” I finally allow, swallowing down my bile. “You don’t look a thing like Lotor.” It doesn’t matter. They’re both monsters. All the Drule are. They’re creatures from the foulest nightmares man is capable of, and all the more terrifying because they are real.
He doesn’t seem angry about that agreement. If anything his chest swells, a kind of cocky pride filling him. “I may not mirror him in looks, but I’ve other talents in common with the King.”
“Oh?” A hoarse sound from my throat, it’s all I can do to keep him talking. Some vain hope is inside me, thinking if I can delay this, maybe just maybe I’ll get away. I might even be hoping for a rescue sent by Lotor’s own hands, though it’s a thought I refuse to acknowledge. Not when I’m so sure I am on my own.
Garrant’s grin already huge, seems to grow bigger as he flashes his tongue. It wiggles about in an obscene manner, a mortified heat filling me. I don’t want him touching me, don’t want him using his tongue, or putting any part of him inside me. So upset am I, I cannot even think to insult him in the moment, just staring wide eyed at him.
“Kind of makes you weak in the knees, doesn’t it?” Garrant asks, stepping towards the bed. I can’t stop my frightened reaction, shifting backwards to avoid him coming any closer. He chuckles, and chides me. “We both know that you’re not going to avoid me for long. Why not enjoy what I’m about to do?”
“I would never!” I exclaim, though I can’t call upon my indignation to lend proper rage to my words. I’m still too scared, too busy staring at the monster drawing near.
“You enjoyed what Lotor does.” Garrant says, hands reaching for me. “What’s to be different about this?!”
My cheeks are redder yet as I try to avoid his hands. “I don’t enjoy what your King does anymore than I will enjoy this!” I snap, finding my wrists snagged by his hands.
“I find that hard to believe.” Garrant laughs, pulling me against his front. “You come, don’t you?”
“A betrayal by my body, nothing more!” I hiss, struggling to free my hands from his grip.
“Call it what you like.” He shrugs, shifting his grip so that one hand winds fingers in my hair. I’m balancing on my knees, held at the edge of the bed by him. The angle he holds my head hurts my neck, and I glare all the more hatefully at him. “Betrayal or not, your body is smarter than your head. It knows to enjoy pleasure when it’s being offered.”
I snap my teeth at his lips, the Drule having tried to kiss me. He just barely managed to jerk back before I savage his lips, his own eyes narrowing with the slightest spark of anger.
“I don’t have to make this good for you.” He hisses, and it’s all I can do not to choke on the bitter laugh lodged in my throat.
“I’d rather you wouldn’t.” I manage to say. then my gasp turns into a muffled shriek. His fingers had snagged hold of the top of my gown, the gold fabric anchored to my neck by a thick ebony collar. There had been no sides or back to the dress, leaving much of my body on display. But apparently what little it did cover was too much for Garrant, for with one brutal tug, he has torn the dress open. The shreds hung down past my belly, and only the fact that adhesive kept a thin belt of fabric in place, kept me from being fully naked.
My chest heaves on a panicked breath, my bared breasts quivering under his attention. Again his teeth are revealed, fangs looking deadly as he gazes down at my naked chest. I want to close my eyes in mortification, uncomfortable with a stranger staring at my breasts. When he bends towards one, his teeth ready to catch on a nipple, I can’t keep the gasp from escaping me. The sound doesn’t stop him, doesn’t deter Garrant in the slightest. I want to lose all sense of reason, to scream and go wild, but know I cannot so long as I hold hope of getting away. I force myself to relax as much as I can, earning an interested look from Garrant as he begins rubbing his fang’s tip over my nipple.
“There.” He purrs a moment before his mouth moves to envelope me in it’s warmth. “It’s not so bad is it?”
I say nothing, just holding myself rigid, enduring his tongue’s play on my nipple. I tell myself I can do this, that I can get through this bit of humiliation if it means he will let go of my wrists. Garrant is cautious, fingers still gripping my hair, while one big hand encircles both of my slender wrists. A knee of his is up on the bed, the Drule sliding it forward and between my legs. I’m forced to straddle it, though I refuse to move, to grind shamelessly on it.
I wince when Garrant begins a vigorous suckle of my breast, his sharp tip teeth seeming to prick my soft flesh. It hurts more than anything, the man practically trying to inhale my breast inside his mouth. The arching of my back is an accident, I’m shifting more to try and get away, to alleviate the pressure he is putting on me. He mistakes my movement as grudging acceptance, a weakening on my part.
“That’s it Allura….” He purrs, teeth catching at my nipple, giving it a hard tug. “Just give in….”
I stare into his eyes, sweat beading on the side of my face. He pauses, his fangs on my nipple, quick to offer pleasure or pain depending on my answer. Sick as I feel, the room spinning, my stomach uneasy, I am able to think things through. I let out a breathy sigh, submitting to his intentions. He rewards me with his tongue, laving it over my previously abused nipple. I cannot shake the tension from me, but I try to force my body to relax. I no longer fight his hold, no longer hold in my voice though I cannot moan.
Instead, whimpering, I let him do as he pleases, Garrant letting down his guard. Letting go of my wrists to grab onto my hips. His fingers dig into the bruise marks Lotor has left behind, Garrant trying to get me to move on top of his knee. I don’t want to, hearing the hiss of impatience he lets out as he tries to force my hips to move.
“Ah…..Garrant…” A whine of his name, my tone almost breathless. It’s all an act, my hands resting on his arms.
“You like that my sweet?” Garrant asks, rubbing his cheek over my breast. I force myself to nod, my eyes half closed to hide the disgust reflected in them. “There’s more to be had. So much more.” He pushes me down so I end up on my back, his body cradled between my thighs. He’s smiling, staring down at me with appreciation in his eyes. I can only give a nervous look back, still gripping his arms when he puts a hand under the skirt of my torn dress. My hands clench on his arms as he begins to pet over my sex, Garrant telling me to just relax.
Nodding, I lean into the pillows, trying to control my panicked breathing. Garrant is showing more care with his fingers than he had with his teeth on my breasts, so it is not hard to pretend it feels good. Anything feels good after that clumsy way he had bit and sucked at my nipple.
Garrant is taken in by my attempts to relax, his own guard waning as he focuses on stroking an arousal in me. I let my hands slide from his arms, let them land on his waist. I feel the rough texture of scar tissue, stroking my fingers down his flesh. He doesn’t seem to suspect anything, as my fingers continue their dancing caress, the Drule smiling as he plays with my body. He’s still smiling when my fingers curve around the sheathed dagger’s hilt, and then I am dumped into a new nightmare.
“Bitch!” He roars, his hand back handing me across the face. My head is rocked to the side, my right cheek throbbing with pain. Already dizzy from drink, I think I see stars in addition to the room’s spinning but I do not let go of the dagger. I actually manage to draw it, fighting with him as I struggle to get out from under him.
The hum of lazon is in the room, the dagger small but made of the expensive material and as deadly as a sword. Garrant has my wrist in his hand, trying to squeeze down so I’ll drop the dagger. I refuse, thinking I am dead if I let go of my one sole weapon. I think I might hear the cracking of my bones, and still I hold on, lifting a leg to kick him off me.
I have to kick him a second and a third time, and it only gains me a little ground. I’m still pinned under him, still fighting to get my hand free. He’s snarling things, but I’m too upset to understand the words. From the livid expression on Garrant’s face, I know it’s not anything I want to hear. He looks absolutely murderous, and rolls us onto the floor. I don’t let go of the dagger, even when he throws me against a wall. Shaking, I don’t rise easily but when I do, I grab some objects from the shelves behind me. Throwing one after another at Garrant, the Drule ducking to avoid them. When I run out of things to throw, Garrant charges me. I see my death in his eyes, and I flinch, thrusting out my hand. It is then the door to the room is thrown open, and I hear Lotor’s voice shout out my name. But it is too late, Garrant won’t stop, the Drule running right into the dagger I hold before me like a shield. I gasp, he gasps, even Lotor seems stunned. Blood spurts out of the Drule’s mouth, splattering onto my face.
Garrant is trying to speak, making a gurgling sound. He falls towards me, the dagger going in deeper. I shriek, and drop to my knees, not letting go of the dagger’s hilt. I think my hand might be more damaged than I had first realized, my fingers not wanting to respond to my mental commands.
“Allura….” Lotor is pulling Garrant off me, barely giving the Drule a second look once he’s gotten over his shock.
“Is…Is he dead?” I ask anxiously. Garrant’s answering gurgle seems to mock me, Lotor’s expression grim.
“No. Not yet.” He says. Before I can question what he is saying, Lotor pries the dagger from my numb fingers. The lazon blade’s glow is dulled by all the blood and gore on it, Lotor using his robes to wipe off the handle. I don’t register what he is doing, why he is bothering to clean it until he plunges it into where Garrant’s heart would be. Garrant lets out a tortured sound, more blood spurting from his mouth, and now his nose. Lotor gives a vicious twist of the dagger but Garrant is already dead.
My eyes are huge, I don’t know what to say, what to do. “You…” I shake my head. “Why did you do that?!”
“He had to die Allura.” Lotor says, pulling out the sword at his side. “We couldn’t leave any witnesses to what went on in this room.”
I am dull witted in the moment. “Witnesses?”
“It’s a capital offense for a slave to attack or harm a Drule.” Lotor tells me, and shoves his sword into Garrant’s body several times. The swords blade gets coated in blood, Lotor just leaving it there to protrude out of the wound that had killed Garrant off. “Punishable in only one way.”
I never truly stopped shaking, the tremors wreaking havoc on my body. I don’t have to guess what that punishment is, my voice coming out on a choked breath. “Execution.”
“We…you can’t stay here.” Lotor decides, rising to his feet. I remain on the floor, my wide eyes watching as Lotor tries to clean off more of the blood on the dagger.
“Throw it away.” I whipper, knowing the dagger is evidence against me.
“It’s not so easy.” Lotor tells me. “He was a decorated warrior. A celebrated hero. They’d know he’d never go anywhere without a weapon, let alone let it out of his sight.”
“Then what do we do?” I ask, when really I want to say this is all Lotor’s fault. For betraying me, for letting Garrant carry me off to be raped.
Lotor is quiet longer than I would have liked, my gaze lifting to his serious one. His gold eyes stare into me, and then Lotor is using the dagger on himself, plunging it into his side. I scream, but his other hand muffles the noise.
“Shhh Allura. I avoided anything vital.” He tells me. I’m still trying to scream, not truly understanding why he would do this, why he would go so far in an attempt to protect me. Especially after his inaction had allowed me to get into this horrible situation in the first place!
“Shhh.” Lotor repeats the soothing sound, trying to calm me. His expression is pained, his side bleeding.
“You need a doctor!” I say once his hand stops muffling my mouth. He doesn’t argue with that, instead guiding me to stand. I find myself plastered against his uninjured side, Lotor putting an arm across my shoulders. I can’t tell if he really is that weakened, or if it’s an act he puts on as he uses me as a crutch to walk out the room.
There’s no one in this stretch of the hall to see us, no witnesses to guess at what really happened in that room. I’m scrubbing at my face with my hand, trying to wipe off any remains of blood on my skin. I think only my shock keeps me from panicking, from breaking down completely and still I let out a yelp when we turn a corridor and come across two patrolling castle guards. These men first impulse is to leer at me, to stare at my disheveled state and exposed breasts. But they are not so dimwitted as to ignore the fact that something is wrong, their eyes going from me to their King, who leans so heavily upon me for support.
“Sire!” They cry, drawing their weapons in anticipation of a threat. Their eyes are already scanning the corridor, wondering if they will be forced to defend their injured King.
“There was an incident.” Lotor doesn’t mince words. “Garrant is dead.” A jerk of his head in the direction we came from. “Stand guard over the body. Let no one enter without my permission.”
“Yes sire.” They say, and one hesitates. He’s looking at the dagger protruding out Lotor’s side, ready to voice a question.
“I am not so weak as to not be able to get myself to a doctor.” Lotor announces, and though the guards hesitates, they ultimately nod their understanding. I can barely stop the relief from showing when they rush past us, and Lotor notices.
“Your face gives away too much Allura.” He mutters to me. Though Lotor leans on me, I am not the one guiding him. Instead I shuffle forward, letting him choose the way. He is not headed towards the castle infirmary, instead leading me to his bedroom. I am confused and voice it, even as Lotor ushers me inside his private chambers.
“You can’t be seen.” He tells me. “Not until you get over your shock and calm down enough to be able to lie convincingly.” I can only nod, knowing Lotor speaks true on this. “You will stay here.” He continues. “You do not leave the bedroom until I say you do.”
The bedroom doors close behind me, Lotor taking the added precaution of locking them. I just stand there in the darkness, too shocked to cry, too shocked to do anything. It’s not the first time I’ve had to kill in self defense, but it’s never gotten any easier. But more than the shock and fright I feel, the distaste I have for killing, is the confusion I feel. A confusion caused by Lotor, by every one of his actions tonight. I don’t understand, can’t comprehend the reasons that motivate him. Nor can I truly grasp hold of why he would abandon me one moment, only to go so far to protect me the next.