He had kept her in bed right up until the last possible moment, Lotor more interested in keeping Allura snuggled in his arms than letting her get ready for their arrival on Doom. She had little choice in the matter, Allura grumbling under her breath as he petted her hair, and planted kisses on her face. Her grumpy sounding protests didn’t put Lotor off, the prince continuing to smile and lavish attention on her.
Allura gave a good show of being put out by his actions, Allura glaring fiercely at him. It was hard to manage such a look, especially when he was being gentle and loving. But thoughts of where he was taking her helped to fuel her anger, Allura thinking it better to be mad than fearful. Still when his communicator went off, she couldn’t keep from stiffening, Allura wondering what this intrusion into their private time could mean.
She didn’t dare hope it was Lotor’s men reporting that the Voltron Force had finally shown up, not this late in the game. If they hadn’t come for her long before the ships were set to land on planet Doom, Allura doubted they would be here now. Her situation seemed beyond hopeless, Allura set to live out her worst nightmares, and knowing the week spent in Lotor’s arm was just a taste of things to come.
Allura couldn’t help shivering, Lotor pausing to tenderly kiss her forehead, and wrap her more securely in the bed’s big blanket. He was uncaring about his own naked state, the Drule padding barefoot and nude over to where his pants lay discarded on the floor. The communicator continued it’s shrill beeping, demanding his attention, and earning a soft swear in Drule from Lotor.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, damn you.” Lotor muttered, snatching at his pants, and fumbling through it’s pockets. She sat quietly on the bed, watching as he got a hold of the device, the communicator looking far too small for his hand. “What is it?” He growled into the device, his thumb pressing down on a certain button.
A voice answered, and it was not lost on Allura that the man spoke in Basic for her benefit. “Prince Lotor, sir. You wanted me to let you know when the castle was in sight….” The voice trailed off hesitantly, making a question out of the statement.
“Ah yes, Morgor, thank you.” Lotor said, glancing in her direction when she let out a dismayed sound. “Keep the ships on it’s course. I expect we’ll be arriving within the hour?”
“Yes, sire. Castle Doom has already been in contact with us.” Continued Morgor, his voice still so hesitant as he spoke. “The King has been pressing to hear word of your victory…”
“We’ll let him keep guessing about that until we are there in the throne room with him.” Allura wondered how Lotor could remain so calm, the girl knowing that his so called victory amounted to nothing at all. He had lost Romelle, and he hadn’t even captured one lion! Even with Allura herself in Lotor’s possession, all he had gained was a reluctant bride. She knew, and had told him time and time again that her people would not barter for her freedom. Allura herself would not allow them to sacrifice their freedom to save her, no matter what Zarkon and Lotor did to her.
And yet Lotor didn’t seem to care, Allura wondering if he was more delusional than she previously thought. She herself worried enough for the both of them, Allura well aware that Lotor would be her so called protector here on planet Doom. And yet, she didn’t know what would happen, either to herself, or to Lotor, now that he was coming back almost completely empty handed.
“Permission to speak freely, sire?” Morgor was still on the line, Lotor frowning at the communicator in his hand.
“Granted.” Lotor allowed, and the sigh Morgor let out was loud over the airwaves.
“I think we should let him know in advance the details of our excursion. It might….lessen the blow, his disappointment will surely bring.”
“Disappointment?!” Lotor made a scoffing sound. “We may have let Romelle escape, but we have come back with a treasure far greater than that insignificant princess.” He chuckled then, locking eyes with Allura and smiling at her. She didn’t return the look, seething at his insult to her cousin. “What’s more, the Voltron Force are down at least two pilots, thus rendering Arus easy pickings for our next attack.”
“Sire…I don’t mean to be disagreeable, but you know your father. He won’t see it that way.” Morgor said. “He’ll only focus on the negatives of our excursion….”
“And I will deal with each and every one when I see him in person.” Came Lotor’s response. He was walking back towards the bed, Allura staying huddled in the blanket’s embrace. “Fear not Morgor, there will be no blame casting done for this latest adventure.” He reached out to touch Allura’s hair, his fingers stroking through her long mane. It wasn’t until he began touching her, eyes absentminded that Allura began to realize Lotor had to be more nervous than he was letting on.
“Sire, I was in no way implying…” began Morgor, but Lotor cut him off, tone good-natured.
“Worry not General. I know you’re only looking out for my best interests. And I appreciate it. Now, is there anything else?”
“No Prince Lotor.” Came Morgor’s answer. That seemed to be all that needed to be said, Lotor clicking off the communicator. He still played with her hair, and now he drew a long cluster of strands towards his face, Lotor bending over her to sniff at her hair’s fragrance.
“Perhaps the commander is right…” Allura couldn’t keep the nervousness out of her voice, fingers clutching the blanket close around her. “Maybe it would be better if you were to prepare your father about my arrival…”
“Are you worried my love?” He smiled at her, letting the hair sift free of his fingers. “Don’t be. Everything will all work out. You’ll see.”
“I have my own doubts about that.” Allura murmured, knowing she and Lotor each had their own ideas of what would be the ideal situation out of this mess. She wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare, safe in her own bedroom, surrounded by her mice friends, Cheesey included. But she knew that wasn’t happening any time soon, Allura holding back a remorseful sigh as she gazed up at Lotor.
“Come. You frown entirely too much.” Chided Lotor, hands reaching to pull open her blanket. She still retained bits of her modesty around him, Allura’s first impulse to try and cover herself from the burning gaze that swept her body. But he made no move to touch her, not even in response to the lust that lighted in his eyes. Instead he stepped away from the bed, moving to fetch the scattered pieces of his uniform.
“You’ll be wanting a shower before you meet with my father I bet.” Lotor said, glancing at her from over his shoulder. She nodded, already inching off the bed. “Go do that now. When you return, I’ll have some clothes ready for you.”
She tried to keep from looking giddy at the thought, Allura knowing it had been about a week since he had allowed her to wear clothing. At this point she’d take just about anything, no matter how ugly or uncomfortable the garment was.
Another quick glance at Lotor, seeing him bent over as he slid one muscled leg into his pant’s inside, and then she was rushing towards the cabin’s bathroom. A part of her was surprised Lotor hadn’t insisted on showering with her, but a bigger part overrode that wonder to be relieved. Allura had no doubt if he had joined her in the shower, they wouldn’t have gotten clean. Not without getting dirtier first in the process!
The thought brought heat to her cheeks, Allura sure that no matter what happened between her and Lotor, she’d never be able to lose all of her shyness. Especially so long as she continued to be embarrassed over what was happening between them. She passed by a mirror, and could barely look at herself, knowing her sun kissed skin was starting to pale, her body covered in several dozen kiss marks.
She stifled a frown, Allura opening the shower door, and slipping inside. The warm water that began gently pelting her body could not completely chase away the chill she felt, Allura once again worrying what would happen when she was in the Drule king’s court. She knew Lotor expected Zarkon to make their union official, to bind them more securely in the bonds of Drule matrimony.
She didn’t want to marry Lotor, didn’t want him to have any more claims to her. And yet she also knew it might be the only thing that protected her from Zarkon, the King sure to want revenge for two year’s worth of defeats and aggravation. Allura couldn’t stop from trembling, knowing the wrath of King Zarkon was a terrible thing, and surely all the more horrifying to witness in person.
Even worse to have it directed at her, Allura knowing he could do anything to her, demand any type of punishment as compensation for the trouble she and her planet had caused him. Now more than ever, Allura wished her friends had managed to stage a rescue for her, Allura beginning to scrub at her skin with the soap. The white foam covered every inch of her, and still she could not feel entirely clean, swearing she felt Lotor’s touch lingering on her skin.
She scrubbed harder, wanting to rub her skin raw in an effort to be clean, Allura thinking of Lotor now. Immediate flashes of the past week came to her, all steamy interludes inside the cabin, Allura making a dismayed sound as she tried not to dwell on the sex. Her face grew hotter yet, Allura dropping the soap to just stand there and let the water wash it’s foam off her body.
She knew that things could have been worse aboard the ship, Lotor actually being kind to her. As kind as a Drule could manage, the man sick with love for her, and acting constantly on his desires. And still, aside from the sex she had not been treated unkindly, all but pampered as meals were brought to her, her prison itself a luxury compared to the holding cell he could have placed her in.
He had kept her away from the other Drules, protecting her from their stares and animosity, Allura positive they would have been itching to do her harm. Lotor was in fact, very protective of her, not only seeing to her care and comfort, but guarding her feelings from the others aboard the ship. She’d almost admire him for that, if she wasn’t too busy reminding herself how much she hated him!
The need for that reminder troubled her, not for the first time did Allura wonder if she was starting to sympathize with her captor. She wouldn’t be surprised if this is what that was, Allura having seen no one but Lotor all this past week. Left with no other choice, she had begun to look forward to his presence besides her, Allura needing companionship, even if it was of the kind she would not choose for herself.
Still, it made her all the more determined not to soften her heart towards Lotor, Allura knowing she had to remain strong for her eventual rescue. Or rather, if she was rescued, Allura once again fretting over the fate of Keith and the other members of the Voltorn force. How had the three remaining lions fared against Haggar’s robeast? She didn’t know, and Lotor was not forthcoming with the answers. She didn’t know if that was because Voltron had won, or because he didn’t want to upset her with news of their defeat.
Sighing, she began lathering up her hair with the same scentless brand of shampoo Lotor used for himself. It was all that was available, the prince not having prepared to have caught her so easily. She thought she might have been even more skeeved out if he had come prepared, Allura giving a rueful shake of her head that nearly sent shampoo suds into her eyes.
She quickly rinsed out the shampoo, the suds trailing down her body and onto the floor where they swirled around the drain. But she didn’t move out from under the shower’s head, letting the warm water cascade over her for several minutes more. When the water started to turn cold, she knew she could delay things no more, Allura stepping out of the shower and reaching for the towels.
She wrapped herself up in the fluffy black fabric, noting the gold that accented the material. It was embroidered with L’s, no doubt standing for Lotor’s name. She hated allowing something with his insignia to touch her body, but what else could she do? She needed to get dry, Allura toweling off her hair, then wrapping it up turban like. This time there was no shamed glance past the mirror, it’s glass fogged up from the steam of her shower.
She stepped back into the bedroom, and Lotor was there, fully dressed in his uniform, and sitting perched in a corner chair. His eyes lit up when he saw her, melting away the serious look of contemplation that had been on his face. That look made her wonder if Lotor was more nervous about the upcoming meeting with Zarkon then he wanted anyone to know, Allura cocking her head to the side to study him better.
“What?” Lotor asked, returning her look with a curious one of his own.
“It’s nothing.” She said, then cast a look around the room. “The clothes….?”
“Over by the bed…” Lotor said, nodding in it’s direction. She walked over to it, having spied the bundle of drab gray colored cloth. The material felt as dismal as it looked, some kind of scratchy wool that would chafe her skin. “I’m afraid we didn’t have many options.” Lotor said in response to her sigh. “You cannot be seen in the uniform of Doom’s military and I wasn’t about to garb you as a slave.”
Allura bit back a comment that she might as well have been a slave, for all the choices she had left to her. She quietly unfolded the bundle, realizing it was some sort of maid’s outfit. “You could have let me wear my pilot’s outfit…”
“And have you appear before my father in our enemy’s uniform!?” Lotor shook his head at her. “No. Besides, that’s already been disposed of.”
“Disposed of?!” Allura frowned at him, but he made no attempt to clarify. It left her wondering if she would ever get to wear her pilot’s uniform again, and if she would
ever get to fly blue lion once more.
“Hurry up and get dressed Allura. We’re just about setting to land in the castle’s courtyard.” Lotor told her, and Allura glanced startled at him. Had her shower really taken that long?
“Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” She should have known not to ask, Lotor smiling a wide smirk and gesturing at her to continue. Allura hated the thought of putting on a show for him, the girl muttering an insult under her breath. “Pervert.” She dropped the towel, making sure to keep her back to him as she began pulling on the undergarments that came with the maid’s outfit.
Lotor kept quiet in his corner of the room, but she could feel his eyes on her, his gaze holding a weight to it. She dressed even faster, hurriedly pulling on the maid’s dress, and smoothing down it’s skirts with her hands. Only then did she turn to Lotor, and while it was not approval in his eyes, he nodded at her all the same. “The maid’s uniform is only temporary until I can get you more suitable clothes…”
She didn’t dare ask what suitable was, Allura wondering if he would keep her naked in his private chambers until new clothing could be bought for her. “Don’t look so down, Allura.” Advised Lotor, rising from his seat. “This is just a formality…..we’ll meet with my father, give him a debriefing of the Mieve incident, and get his blessings for our marriage.”
“Blessings? From Zarkon?!” Her tone was part disbelief, and part snide, Allura shaking her head no. She didn’t want to be blessed by him, any more than she believed the man capable of such an action.
Lotor seemed to choose to ignore her exclamation, walking towards her, and taking her hand. She fought the impulse to pull back, and Lotor smiled his approval at her. “It’s good you don’t fight me.” He said, and she arched a brow at him at that. “I wouldn’t want to have to handcuff my bride, and march her off the ship like a common criminal.”
She got a funny look on her face, Allura pointing out something to him. “In the eyes of the Drule, I AM a common criminal.”
“Not anymore.” Replied Lotor, leading her towards the cabin’s exit. “You’re my wife now Allura. That’s all that matters.”
“Wife in everything but name…” She reminded him, that comment earning another smile from him.
“Are you worried about that minor technicality? Fear not Allura, my father will see to it that we are married in a way that even your Galaxy Alliance cannot dispute.”
“I wasn’t worried about that..” Muttered Allura, though she actually was. But for reasons different from Lotor, Allura desperate for a last minute rescue or escape. As long as they were married only through the joining of their bodies, she still had hope, Allura knowing no court would uphold a marriage claim based on sex alone. But if she was to be united official with him, it would make it trickier to divorce herself from Lotor.
They were out in the hall now, Allura looking around with some interest. She hadn’t gotten a good look at her surroundings on being brought here, Allura slipping in and out of consciousness as she bounced across Lotor’s shoulder. A pair of guards patrolled this corridor, and aside from the doors that led into the cabin’s interior, there was only one other door, it lurching open with a hiss or air at their approach.
Another corridor extended beyond the door, and this one had doors on either side of the walls, surely leading to the cabins for the ship’s personnel. Haggar the witch stepped out of one of the doorways, Allura shrinking back against Lotor’s side, unable to keep her fear completely at bay. The witch noticed this, flashing her a fang filled smile of pure malicious intent.
Somehow Allura managed not to whimper, her mind speeding through thoughts of all the ill will the witch had done to her and her friends. Lotor noticed her upset, flashing the witch a warning look. Haggar merely humphed at that, falling into step with the pair of royals.
Lotor began to talk to Haggar, but his words weren’t in Basic, Allura struggling to understand. Her grasp of the Drule language was limited at best, she only knew enough words to realize he was most likely asking the witch about her robeasts.
She couldn’t follow Haggar’s response at all, the witch shrugging as they traversed the ship’s corridors. But from the hesitant, almost apologetic tone of the witch’s voice, Allura became hopeful that Haggar had given him bad news. Still it troubled her that Lotor’s smile did not falter, the prince continuing to walk with a confidant swagger.
The two Drules continued to speak over her head, Allura frowning at being left out of their conversation. Then and there she vowed to spend her time on Doom learning the Drule language, if only to be able to better eavesdrop on important matters. She almost grew excited at the thought, thinking perhaps she’d be able to return to Arus with important secrets about the Drule.
But as much as Allura wanted the chance to better serve her people, she also hoped she wouldn’t be spending enough time on Doom to become familiar with the Drule language.
She was still struggling to make heads or tail of their conversation, when a third Drule joined them. It was that General of Lotor’s, Morgor also speaking in Drule. A few more doors swished open at their approach, and then they came upon a group of Drule soldiers. They were standing around an open ramp, bodies rigid and snapping to attention at their prince’s approach.
Simultaneously they saluted Lotor, and at a gesture from Morgor, they began to descend down the ramp. Allura’s hands turned clammy with sweat, and a chill worked it’s way through her body as she realized this was it. There was no more delays, they were officially landed on Doom, and departing onto the castle’s ground.
Lotor tucked her arm more securely under his, the prince patting her hand with his gloved one. She glanced at him, and he gave her a slight smile, trying to reassure her. She just blinked back in response, hardly able to move to the point he was almost dragging her forward.
“Lotor…” Allura whispered, the prince not pausing on the ramp. “I don’t think I can do this….”
“You have to Allura!” Came his answer.
“I…I feel sick…” Indeed she thought she might throw up at any moment, nervous butterflies fluttering about her stomach.
“It’ll only be for a little while…” Lotor said, stepping them off the ramp and onto the courtyard’s tarmac. “And then I’ll let you rest for as long as you need.”
“I’m really going to be sick…” Allura muttered, fighting not to gag on bile. But somehow she managed to keep her meal down, even as the butterflies morphed into balls that bounced harshly around her stomach.
Somehow they made it to the throne room of the castle, Allura so shaken with fear and the need to be ill, that she barely noted the way they had come. She knew that was foolish of her, a disappointment to Keith and his training. She should have paid attention, should have noted the route they had taken so she could use it in an attempt to escape. But it was all she could do to keep from fainting, Allura trembling besides Lotor.
There were soldiers outside the hall of the throne room, the men hurrying to open the door and announce their arrival to the court. They had barely finished saying Lotor’s name, when the voice from her nightmares called out to them.
He spoke in Drule, and even though she couldn’t understand the words, Allura knew fear. It was far greater than any emotion she had ever felt, her knees all but knocking together as Lotor urged her into the throne room. Zarkon’s voice seemed to echo from all directions, but she saw where he sat, high a top a gold colored dais that had blood red carpeting on the steps.
“Well…” Zarkon had spied her, and modified his speech accordingly. “This is a surprise.” He smirked then, gazing at her even as Allura cringed and clung tighter to Lotor’s arm. “So I suppose she’s the reason for all the secrecy aboard your ship?”
“Father…” Lotor walked her down the row between the crowd of court attendees, the Drules speaking in hushed voices as they openly stared at her. She tried not to look at them save for out the corner of her eyes, moving in step with Lotor. He did not stop them until they were at the foot of the dais, Lotor dropping her down to kneel before his king. “I present to you, my bride.”
“Bride eh?” She couldn’t see Zarkon’s face, but she could hear the distaste in his tone. He wasn’t pleased with the idea Lotor had presented him with, wasn’t eager to make her his daughter in law. “We’ll see about that.”
“Father?” A questioning word, Lotor risking a gaze up at his father’s throne.
“Tell me Lotor. What news do you bring? What riches have you got for me?” Zarkon demanded. “I see a pilot of Voltron here before me, does this mean you have the lions as well?”
“Not yet father.” Lotor said smoothly. “But soon. They are two pilots down. I personally saw to it that the leader of the Voltron Force was incapacitated.”
“Incapacitated? But not dead?” questioned Zarkon sharply.
“He was as good as dead when I kicked him over the crater on Mieve.” Lotor told him, and Allura was glad her head was bowed so that Zarkon could not see the pain that came to her eyes at the thought of Keith’s demise.
“Good as dead is not the same as being dead.” Zarkon pointed out, breath hissing out of him in a displeased manner. “Do you at least have the slave’s key for her lion?”
At being called a slave, Allura jerked her head up, a horrified look on her face. Zarkon locked eyes with her, smirking down at her.
“Allura is not a slave, she’s my bride.” Lotor corrected him, and Zarkon laughed.
“I haven’t agreed to marry you yet Lotor. Now answer the question!”
“No.” Zarkon’s fist pounded on the arm rest at Lotor’s answer, the prince hurrying to continue. “I searched her thoroughly, there was no key on her.”
“How could you be so foolish?!” Zarkon demanded. “No lion, and you don’t even have her key?! What, were you too in a rush to fuck her, that you forgot all your academy training and just left before ensuring complete victory over our enemies?!”
Allura’s cheeks burnt at the words Zarkon used, the princess positive everyone knew that’s exactly what Lotor had done to her. She didn’t dare glance at Lotor to see how he was reacting to what his father had said, she was too frozen on the spot by Zarkon’s glare.
“Haggar’s robeast was engaging the three remaining lions when we left.” Lotor began his explanation. “I thought it prudent that we leave for Doom at once.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” Zarkon agreed. “You had what YOU wanted after all. but what about what I want?”
“We have their princess sire…” Haggar spoke up, drawing Zarkon’s anger towards his. “The rest will follow soon enough.”
“Really?” Zarkon sounded as though he did not believe the witch’s words. “Tell me slave….are you more trouble than you are worth? Will the people of Arus surrender to us now that we have you in our clutches?”
Somehow Allura found her voice, and frightened though she was, she did not lie to try and buy herself some time. “No. My people will not allow themselves to be conquered and enslaved. Not for anyone, not even their princess.”
“Then you’re no good to me!!” Zarkon hissed, and gestured. “Guards! Take her to the dungeons.”
“Father no!” Lotor gasped out, not letting go of Allura’s arm as several of the castle’s guards surrounded them. He dragged her to her feet, pulling her against him as he moved to draw his sword.
“Don’t push me Lotor!” Zarkon warned. “I’m this close to having you placed in an adjoining cell!”
“Don’t do this!” Lotor snapped, and a hum of lazon was heard, his sword drawn free of it;s sheathe. The guards turned hesitant at seeing their prince armed, and Zarkon made an impatient sound.
“He’s only one man….you can take him!” And still no one moved to attack, Zarkon snarling. “I’ll triple the salary of the man who takes the slave from my son’s arms!”
That seemed to decide things, the men all rushing Lotor at once. Their swords were drawn, Lotor clashing his blade against one of the guard’s. But there was too many for any one man to handle, Allura suddenly letting out a fearful sound. “Lotor!”
His name on her lips gave him pause, Lotor still dueling with two of the guards. “Allura!” He risked a glance at her, and saw a guard had the sharp tip of his sword pressed against her throat, Allura growing paler to feel it poking into her skin. “Don’t hurt her!”
“She makes you weak son.” Zarkon grumbled as Lotor’s sword was knocked from his hands. He growled, but seemed helpless to do anything as Allura was pulled away from him. “But don’t worry, I’ll help you to get over this crippling weakness of yours!”
“Lotor!” Allura screamed out his name, being dragged from the room. She could hear Zarkon laughing, the girl locking eyes with the prince. He stood there making fists out of his hand, multiple swords trained on him, ready to stab into him should he make a move towards her. She realized no help would be coming from him, and Allura bit back another scream, fighting desperately as the soldiers dragged her out of the throne room.