Slave 119

He wondered what he was doing, Lotor stepping out into the hall, his actions almost gentle as he closed the door to the nursery. His actions belied his inner turmoil, Lotor a maelstrom of anger and hurt. But he knew he couldn’t afford to let anyone see him give in to those feelings, Lotor pulling a blanket of ice around him. He became the cold, cruel king, unfeeling save for where his daughters were concerned.

Now if only he could believe his own lie, Lotor stone faced as he stepped away from the nursery. His private guards followed him at a distance, leery of this breech in protocol. They were supposed to surround him, to know each and every destination, but Lotor was barely speaking to them. They weren’t the only ones, Lotor having turned away from the court and his circle of advisors, forgoing the day’s plans to stalk about the castle like an angry ghost.

And he was angry, the feeling burnt through him, eating up all sense of ration and reason. He was angry for so many reasons, at so many people, Allura most of all. He was even angry with himself, Lotor knowing his actions were helping to drive Allura further and further away. And maybe that was the point, Lotor knowing that in his current state he was a danger to Allura. He was liable to do something drastic, something a whole lot worse than he had already done to her.

He knew she thought his words and threats, both implied and voiced were bad. But she didn’t know how much worse he could become. Not when his every instinct, his every fiber of being was crying out for him to take charge of her, to keep her with him at all cost, even if it destroyed the girl in the process. He was this close to chaining her to his bed, ready to do all the things she hated until he had forcibly changed her opinion of him. To scare her into accepting him, brainwash her if need be.

But he knew that deep down he wouldn’t be happy if things returned to the way they were. He was tired of Allura’s fear, tired of her trembling and backing away at his approach. But more than that, he was sick of rape. His actions with Romelle last night proved it, Lotor not quite horrified with what he had done once he had calmed down. He had hurt Romelle, in more ways than one, doing her a disservice in treating her in that manner.

He snorted, disgusted with himself, thinking he had truly proved Allura right. He hadn’t changed. What’s more, he had reverted, becoming something less than he once was. In a way Lotor likened himself to be worse than Zarkon, at least where women were concerned. Was his legacy to be nothing more than a long list of abused women, each one more terrified than the last?

He didn’t know, Lotor wondering if he was a slave to his lusts. He let his bodily desires control him, let them block out all rational thought until the urge to be sated consumed him. No wonder Allura wanted to leave him, he was little more than an animal, hungry for pleasure, for his pleasure.

He had moments of clarity when he was away from Allura, Lotor able to think things out in a calm manner. But when he saw her, what little peace he had maintained was torn away from him, Lotor becoming snide and hurtful. He knew he was lashing out at her, blaming her, just this short of hating her. He needed time, but more than that he needed distance, Lotor knowing so long as Allura was near, he’d forever wage war with his urges.

And yet he couldn’t bare to send her away! He knew what he had promised her, that he’d leave her alone, never come near her again once she left Doom. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise, didn’t know if at the first convenient moment, he wouldn’t charge planet Quevra, bring her back, her wishes be damned. In this moment he knew he had to cut all ties with her, even when she had offered an out to him.

He had seen how hurt she had been when her offered hopes of visits with the twins were turned down. She didn’t know what it cost him to say no to her, Lotor wanting nothing more than to keep her in his life. But he knew it would be difficult, risky even, each visit bringing him closer to never letting her leave. How much worse would it be to have her in his life, without truly having her?

~Allura is right.~ He thought grimly to himself, marching down the latest corridor. ~I can’t have a relationship with her, without expecting sex from her. Without demanding it.~

Lotor wished he was different, wished he had learned how to have healthy relationships with women. His father had not been one to set a stellar example for him, choosing to gift Lotor with a small harem when he came of age. He barely been out of his teenage years when he got his first taste of sex, and Zarkon had not seen fit to moderate his out of control desires.

If Lotor thought about it, and he did, he knew he was all but addicted to sex, those early years with his harem having much to do with the way he had turned out. He wasn’t trying to blame the women of his youth, they had done what they had to, to survive. According to Allura they all did that, the women not really loving him, but knowing no other way to live. It left him wondering if they had enjoyed the nearly year long reprieve from sex he had given them.

Allura must have enjoyed hers, the girl so leery of anything even remotely sexual. She was probably looking forward to getting away from him, knowing that once she left Doom she’d never have to worry about being pressed for sex again. She probably wouldn’t even think of him, and that thought had Lotor clenching his fists together in anger. He knew she was troubled at the thought of leaving their daughters behind, but even that couldn’t get her to stay.

Their daughters probably wouldn’t even remember Allura, so young were they. He wondered how he would explain why their mother had left them. He knew it would be easier to pretend she had died, to do as Zarkon had done with Adaline, and forbid the court from ever speaking about the twins’ mother. The memories would stay with him, and the pain that came with them, Lotor not sure he could face his daughters disappointment to learn the truth about his relationship with Allura.

But that was provided they didn’t grow up to be true princesses of Doom, Lotor knowing that they would most likely hold a Drule’s values. They’d have to, the court wouldn’t stand for it any other way. He should be glad Allura wouldn’t be here to confuse their daughters, to give them views that conflicted with the Drules. And yet, he wanted her to be here, even if it meant their daughters grew up thinking slavery was wrong.

He was this close to running back to the nursery, ready to go down on his knees and beg Allura to stay. To demand her forgiveness, to plead his case as he made it clear he wanted to try again with her. He was ready to grovel, to say he’d do almost anything to make amends, to make her stay. But he knew that his anger would flare at the sight of her, Lotor more apt to turn nasty and belittling, threatening her once more.

And he didn’t want that, didn’t want to actually hurt her, be it with words or physically. He wanted her last memories of Doom to be good ones, and knew he had already botched that up with his actions in the nursery. She was probably crying, each tear driven by Lotor’s cutting words, each one calculated for the maximum pain he could have dealt her.

A sigh actually escaped him, Lotor hating himself for that breathy exhalation. It let his guards know he was troubled by his thoughts, Lotor fighting not to glare as he stalked down the hall. He didn’t want to give any one any more fuel for the gossips, Lotor knowing the castle was already a buzz with rumors following his decision to send Allura to Quevra. The court would most likely be pleased by the news, even if it confused them to know he was letting the girl slip through his grasp.

The servants however….they were of a more mixed opinion, many of them liking Allura. They’d be sorry to see her go, most likely wondering what effect her absence would have on them.

Lotor had a feeling Doom was about to become even darker, the time more volatile to those around him. He fought to keep from grimacing, the King jerking open the door, the room he entered one of the unused guest bedrooms that were located close by to his harem. He heard a sound at his entrance, Romelle not quite hiding her displeasure to see him.

He ignored her, stalking over to a chair, slumping down in it. Only then did he let his mask slip, Lotor scowling though inwardly he was crumpling into pieces. Romelle looked back at him, the girl naked save for the bed sheet wrapped around her. Already she was letting it slide off her, the Polluxian thinking he had come back to use her. She had grown compliant through the night, her struggle dying during that first, violent taking of her.

She was almost back to the Romelle he had first brought to Doom, the one who had been most eager to be used by him. With a little more encouragement, she could become the epitome of his ideal slave, ready and willing to please him at any cost. But he couldn’t forget the revulsion on her face, the disgust that had crept into her eyes after he had first fucked her last night. Lotor knew that whatever act she put on, it was just that. An act, one born out of the desire to survive at all costs.

They stared at each other, and even faced with Romelle’s naked body, Lotor couldn’t grow aroused. Instead he found himself growling, the girl looking uncertain at the sound. “Cover yourself up!” He snapped, Romelle’s face showing her lack of understanding. “Don’t be so shameless around me!”

He wondered if it was more than his words that confused her, Romelle just kneeling there on the bed, the blanket pooled around her. He fight back an angry sigh, leaping to his feet. He could see her bracing herself, Romelle all but trembling at his approach. Just another female that was frightened of him. But Lotor couldn’t calm himself to do less than that, the King grabbing at the blanket.

Confused, blue eyes blinked at him, Romelle surprised when he wrapped the blanket around her. He didn’t say he was sorry, even though he knew he should. It would be just another weakness Allura had driven him to, apologizing to a slave. He stood before her, hands on her shoulders, holding the blanket tight around her. He could see his mouth’s bruises on her neck, the markings just above her slave collar.

He hadn’t kissed her in the conventional manner, avoiding her lips as he sought something other than romance from Romelle. Moodily he brushed fingertips over the marks, Romelle’s trembles increasing. He couldn’t say he was sorry, but he could make amends to her in another way. “Clean yourself up.” He said gruffly, pointing at the bathroom door.

She hesitated so long he was tempted to pick her up and carry her, Lotor’s eyes narrowing in annoyance. It was that emotion flashing through his expression that moved her, Romelle sliding off the bed, and taking the blanket with her. Wordlessly she hurried to the bathroom, the door clicking close behind her. He didn’t know what he would have done if she started weeping, Lotor hearing the sounds of the shower start.

He’d have to order her dress, she couldn’t continue to wear nothing but the blanket around him. Lotor stalked over to the room’s intercom, radioing down to a servant the need for new clothes. It took but a few minutes, Lotor then also ordering a meal. But he had no appetite, chewing only on his internal angst.

“What am I going to do?” Lotor wondered out loud, returning to the chair. He slumped down in it, placing his head in his hands. He could feel the tremors shaking his body, Lotor badly wishing Cossack was still alive to advise him on his problems. Not that the commander would have known what to do in this situation, Lotor recalling his words of so many months ago.

“Then don’t.” He had said in response to Lotor’s lament of thinking how he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to Allura. “Keep her. Do whatever you have to, but don’t let her get away from you.”

Lotor wondered if Cossack would have changed his words, or if the commander would still hold the same sentiment. “I’m sorry Cossack…” Lotor whispered softly, his voice muffled by his hands. “I can’t keep her with me anymore…” The only sound in response to his words was that of Romelle’s shower, Lotor sighing harder, fighting not to break down completely. If it hurt this much and Allura was still here, how much worse would it be once she left Doom in a few hours? The thought frightened him, Lotor snorting that a mere girl had the power to make the mighty king of Doom fearful.

He almost wished he could hate Allura, hate her for all she had done, for the way she had changed him. Try as they both might to deny it, some part of him HAD changed, even if it was a part that was so buried under the dirt and grime of his crimes. It was probably not the part she wanted, Lotor becoming somewhat soft, weak even when it came to certain things.

It even troubled him to think of it as a weakness, Lotor knowing the old him would have not balked at hating Allura, at hurting her as best he could with every arsenal in his reach. He would have gone back to using her for sex, even as he despised her, wanting to punish her for her decision to leave him. He had learned from Allura that sex should not be used as a tool for revenge, a weapon for punishment.

It was a lesson he had pushed aside last night, hurting Romelle in Allura’s place. He had even gone so far as to flaunt what he had done, dangle just enough details in front of Allura so that the girl could not misread what had happened after he had left her. It was probably the final nail in the coffin of their relationship, Lotor not knowing how anything could ever hope to repair what he had done.

“I’m such a fool.” He muttered, leaning back in his seat. His hands began smoothing back his hair, Lotor determined to be the calm king once more by the time Romelle finished with her shower. “Maybe I never deserved her love after all.” It was that thought that nearly brought tears to his eyes, Lotor blinking angrily at the room. “You will survive this!” He told himself furiously, hands clenching into fists. “You will not be brought down by Allura leaving you!”

If only he could have felt as certain about that as his words would have him believe….


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: