Between Two Evils - Chapter 7
Aug. 27th, 2008 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
botiasMeanwhile, back at the castle... A shortish chapter. No warnings to speak of, but perhaps a hint of plot. Next chapter they will actually go somewhere that is not Arus or Doom!
Previous Chapters Here
No matter how many times he saw that signal, it always made him go cold inside. It used to bring him a certain clarity of purpose as well: that was the enemy, and he must engage it. Now he hated his enemy more than he had ever done, yet he could do nothing but sit and watch, held in check by the possibility—even the likelihood—that Allura yet lived.
What their own survival had required of Allura, he could not bear to think about.
Coran leaned back in his chair and considered the viewscreen in front of him, rubbing a finger over his chin. Behind him he heard someone enter the control room.
“He's back, isn't he?” Keith said.
Coran glanced up at him when he came to a stop next to his chair. It looked as though he had come straight from his lion; his dark hair was rumpled and his helmet was still tucked under his arm. Coran had decided that three weeks was a perfectly adequate 'extended leave'. Wasn't he 'in charge' after all?
“Yes, he is.” Coran turned back to look at the small, white triangle that indicated the location of Lotor's ship.
“The usual?”
“It matches the pattern we've detected in Lotor's movements, yes. But I still cannot understand what their strategic purpose might be. Pidge too has had no luck in his analysis.” For a moment they considered that information in silence, staring at the innocently blinking signal. “What did you find on your patrol, Captain?”
“The usual,” Keith said. “Blue Lion's a sitting target, but what I found on-site matches what the sensors say. He hasn't been there in weeks and neither has anyone else.”
“If he hasn't sabotaged it by now, then he must intend to make use of it in some way.”
“Good luck,” Keith said, grim satisfaction in his tone.
Coran glanced up at him, but Keith's expression told him nothing, as collected as his military bearing.
They had all responded to Allura's loss in their different ways. Nanny had blamed everyone, sparing neither herself nor “that foolhardy, impetuous girl” from her fierce condemnations, but her bluster always ended in tears. Lance and Hunk had gone on something of a bender, returning to duty still angry but somewhat resigned; Pidge divided his time between his lion and his quarters, Allura's little pets his constant companions.
Perhaps they had all responded in the same way, Coran reflected, by being who they were only more so. For Keith, of course, that meant being even more finely controlled, more devoted to duty—which made the bewildered grief in his voice when he spoke next all the more striking and painful to hear.
“Coran, I—it was like visiting her grave.”
Coran closed his eyes.
Allura tossed her book aside and laid her head on her crossed arms, lulled by the sound of falling water. The trees had been silent through the warm afternoon, but now a breeze had set the topmost leaves to gossiping.
That day at the archipelago had more or less set the pattern for the long string of uncounted days that had come after. Lotor often brought her to Arus, wherever she chose, and she always chose places that were far from other people. Today it was here. The next time it would probably be somewhere else. If there was a next time—Lotor never spoke of the future, and Allura saw no purpose in inquiring.
Her life now was an odd combination of stricture and freedom. She was not her own master, but the demands of leading her people in a time of war, of serving them politically and militarily, had been lifted from her shoulders with disorienting suddenness.
She often felt as if she were not quite real, but for the first time in her adult life, she could and did do nothing at all with no concern that anyone would suffer as a result. She went to sleep at night without wondering if she would be called to battle before she woke, read things that had no strategic value and felt the sun on her skin without risk of censure—quite the contrary—she'd learned to chose places on Arus that were warm since she rarely remained clothed for very long after they had landed, this in spite of the fact that she often awoke to his touch. At least he usually behaved himself en route, more-or-less.
Allura yawned and shifted into a more comfortable position on the blanket. The warm days and early mornings had led to a habit of afternoon naps. These days she didn't bother to dress again until it was time to return or unless she got the notion to explore a little. She refused on principle to let someone like Lotor make her feel shamed, even for an instant, but in truth she'd never been very concerned with modesty. There had always been bigger things to worry about—and other people pleased to be obsessed with it on her behalf. She'd seen Coran less upset by a full-scale attack than when she had dared to wear a two-piece bathing suit. That had been nothing to the time when she'd responded to an alert wearing only a— She frowned and broke off the reverie.
If she thought of any one of her makeshift family for very long, all of the others crowded forward into her thoughts, and she could feel the grief that wanted to follow after. She was not free to grieve, unless she wanted to do it in front of Lotor.
And there was nothing to grieve for, she told herself firmly. Her family was safe, as safe as it had been in her power to make them.
She lifted her head and looked at her husband. He was dozing next to her, taking up most of the space on the blanket. His hands were bare, and he had removed his military tunic revealing the fitted black shirt he wore beneath. His head was buried in his crossed arms, leaving only his mane of pale hair showing and one pointed ear, both turned to gold by the slanting afternoon light.
For someone who had been so relentless, he could certainly be lazy enough. Still, his sword was not far from his hand. And neither was she. She was rarely beyond his reach, almost never beyond the sound of his voice.
As constant companions went, Lotor could have been worse. He was clean, usually quiet (though not mute, unfortunately), and not hard to look at. He could be remarkably indulgent—so long as he was getting exactly what he wanted. Allura had learned to be very suspicious whenever he seemed to be accepting less—because if there was anything that Lotor liked better than getting what he wanted, it was to come by it in an underhanded way.
He did like a certain amount of attention and was clearly used to being petted and spoiled, but he never hurt her or even touched her carelessly. She had stopped expecting him to—but then, she had only provoked him so far and no further.
As she watched, he stretched and stirred. Lately, she had not been much inclined to provoke him at all.
The growing ease between them was not only her own doing. She was not so naive that she didn't know that their bed life might be rather different if he were truly serving only his own wishes. He had said that he pleased her because it pleased him, but that didn't explain the things he did not do. He pushed her so far and no further. Or perhaps her inexperienced touch was simply of no interest to him; he had never again asked for it.
He had eventually 'allowed' her to wash his hair again, however.
He shifted closer to her then, sliding an arm around her and gathering her close. Allura went obediently into his embrace, tipping her head back a little as he found his favorite spot behind her ear, his fingers sleepily combing her hair aside. He sighed contentedly, his chest rising and falling under her hands. No doubt this was his automatic response to a nude female in close proximity—that's what she would tell herself.
“Mmmm, Allura...” he murmured against her skin.
She frowned, feeling suddenly restless.
She couldn't deny that it... bemused her a little how much she seemed to please him. It pleased him when she yielded, entertained him when she resisted; for whatever reason he seemed to think she was the most perfect female on the face of this planet or any other.
The last person to have been pleased with her had been her father.
She had not been serious enough for Coran, not been ladylike enough for Nanny, not been worldly and battle-hardened enough for her team mates. For all of her popularity, even her people would have liked to see her devote more energy to saving the precarious royal line, or so her guardians had said.
They all loved her—of course they did—but losing that glowing approval from her life had left it a drab and lonely place just when it had become one battle after another. How odd that she would find it once more when everything else, all of her possibilities, had been bartered away.
It was all false, of course.
Lotor wouldn't find her pleasing for very long if she were free to speak her mind. Still, his obvious happiness was sometimes difficult not to respond to, even though he didn't deserve it one little bit.
Allura waited until the alien rhythm of his heart slowed and steadied, then she slipped out of his arms and began to dress, looking up from time to time to take in the changing landscape. The white water cascading over the notch it had made in the towering red-rock wall became a luminous blue, and the red-brown shadows were turning a rather surreal purple as the angle of light changed, turning away from the earth to set the clouds afire instead. The cliff face had weathered in such a way that it seemed to be cascading to rocky ground below just as much as the water. She supposed it was, just much too slowly for her to see.
The history books held that most all of Arus had been that lifeless red rock before it had been seeded. Here, in the rain shadow of the Southern Range, there was plenty of it still exposed. Nevertheless, green growth was everywhere, shouldering up to the water; its brilliant emerald completed the vivid landscape.
And watching over it all with her was a lion, carved from the same red stone. It was sitting on its powerful haunches, great wings folded neatly over its back. The location was beautiful, but it was the ruins she'd seen from the air that had attracted her to this particular spot.
There were many, many such abandoned sites, far more than there were people with any interest in them; they dated from the centuries when Arus had been the center of a great and prosperous empire, the source of an advanced technology that had been produced nowhere else. She reached out and touched its stone shoulder, still warm from the sun. Her father had been one of those with an interest, which had intensified greatly after her mother had died. Asking him about the ruins, the spectacular art and architecture that still marked the remaining population centers, had a been one sure way of getting his full attention.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lotor come to stand beside her. She looked up at him as he pulled his tunic over his head, tugging it in place over his powerful shoulders.
“Well?” she said, after a moment.
He glanced down at her as he pulled his hair out of his collar. “That's still not a view,” he said, amused. He reached out and caught a wayward curl of her own hair, rubbing it between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. “You'll just have to do better.”
Jaded beast, she thought, not bothering to reply. Vistas that had taken her breath had received, at most, a bored glance from himself. He looked over her head then, and a hint of interest entered his expression. “The symbol of the mighty Arun Empire... There are many nastier, more powerful creatures, but lions combine power and indolence in a way that is uniquely royal.”
Lotor made it sound as if... “You've seen one? A real one?”
He raised his brows. “Haven't you?”
Allura studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he were playing with her. She was getting better at telling what of the things he said to her was true, what was said to provoke her—and what was both. It was a big galaxy. Saying that one had seen a lion was more credible than saying that one had seen the golden, wish-granting otter that supposedly lived in Castle Lake—but not by very much. Nevertheless, he seemed to be serious. She looked back at the statue and gave it a wistful pat.
“There have never been any large predators on Arus,” she said. “But, I did see a unicorn once. I'm told they are a sign that the PlanGens had a sense of humor.”
On to Chapter 8
Previous Chapters Here
Chapter 7
No matter how many times he saw that signal, it always made him go cold inside. It used to bring him a certain clarity of purpose as well: that was the enemy, and he must engage it. Now he hated his enemy more than he had ever done, yet he could do nothing but sit and watch, held in check by the possibility—even the likelihood—that Allura yet lived.
What their own survival had required of Allura, he could not bear to think about.
Coran leaned back in his chair and considered the viewscreen in front of him, rubbing a finger over his chin. Behind him he heard someone enter the control room.
“He's back, isn't he?” Keith said.
Coran glanced up at him when he came to a stop next to his chair. It looked as though he had come straight from his lion; his dark hair was rumpled and his helmet was still tucked under his arm. Coran had decided that three weeks was a perfectly adequate 'extended leave'. Wasn't he 'in charge' after all?
“Yes, he is.” Coran turned back to look at the small, white triangle that indicated the location of Lotor's ship.
“The usual?”
“It matches the pattern we've detected in Lotor's movements, yes. But I still cannot understand what their strategic purpose might be. Pidge too has had no luck in his analysis.” For a moment they considered that information in silence, staring at the innocently blinking signal. “What did you find on your patrol, Captain?”
“The usual,” Keith said. “Blue Lion's a sitting target, but what I found on-site matches what the sensors say. He hasn't been there in weeks and neither has anyone else.”
“If he hasn't sabotaged it by now, then he must intend to make use of it in some way.”
“Good luck,” Keith said, grim satisfaction in his tone.
Coran glanced up at him, but Keith's expression told him nothing, as collected as his military bearing.
They had all responded to Allura's loss in their different ways. Nanny had blamed everyone, sparing neither herself nor “that foolhardy, impetuous girl” from her fierce condemnations, but her bluster always ended in tears. Lance and Hunk had gone on something of a bender, returning to duty still angry but somewhat resigned; Pidge divided his time between his lion and his quarters, Allura's little pets his constant companions.
Perhaps they had all responded in the same way, Coran reflected, by being who they were only more so. For Keith, of course, that meant being even more finely controlled, more devoted to duty—which made the bewildered grief in his voice when he spoke next all the more striking and painful to hear.
“Coran, I—it was like visiting her grave.”
Coran closed his eyes.
***
Allura tossed her book aside and laid her head on her crossed arms, lulled by the sound of falling water. The trees had been silent through the warm afternoon, but now a breeze had set the topmost leaves to gossiping.
That day at the archipelago had more or less set the pattern for the long string of uncounted days that had come after. Lotor often brought her to Arus, wherever she chose, and she always chose places that were far from other people. Today it was here. The next time it would probably be somewhere else. If there was a next time—Lotor never spoke of the future, and Allura saw no purpose in inquiring.
Her life now was an odd combination of stricture and freedom. She was not her own master, but the demands of leading her people in a time of war, of serving them politically and militarily, had been lifted from her shoulders with disorienting suddenness.
She often felt as if she were not quite real, but for the first time in her adult life, she could and did do nothing at all with no concern that anyone would suffer as a result. She went to sleep at night without wondering if she would be called to battle before she woke, read things that had no strategic value and felt the sun on her skin without risk of censure—quite the contrary—she'd learned to chose places on Arus that were warm since she rarely remained clothed for very long after they had landed, this in spite of the fact that she often awoke to his touch. At least he usually behaved himself en route, more-or-less.
Allura yawned and shifted into a more comfortable position on the blanket. The warm days and early mornings had led to a habit of afternoon naps. These days she didn't bother to dress again until it was time to return or unless she got the notion to explore a little. She refused on principle to let someone like Lotor make her feel shamed, even for an instant, but in truth she'd never been very concerned with modesty. There had always been bigger things to worry about—and other people pleased to be obsessed with it on her behalf. She'd seen Coran less upset by a full-scale attack than when she had dared to wear a two-piece bathing suit. That had been nothing to the time when she'd responded to an alert wearing only a— She frowned and broke off the reverie.
If she thought of any one of her makeshift family for very long, all of the others crowded forward into her thoughts, and she could feel the grief that wanted to follow after. She was not free to grieve, unless she wanted to do it in front of Lotor.
And there was nothing to grieve for, she told herself firmly. Her family was safe, as safe as it had been in her power to make them.
She lifted her head and looked at her husband. He was dozing next to her, taking up most of the space on the blanket. His hands were bare, and he had removed his military tunic revealing the fitted black shirt he wore beneath. His head was buried in his crossed arms, leaving only his mane of pale hair showing and one pointed ear, both turned to gold by the slanting afternoon light.
For someone who had been so relentless, he could certainly be lazy enough. Still, his sword was not far from his hand. And neither was she. She was rarely beyond his reach, almost never beyond the sound of his voice.
As constant companions went, Lotor could have been worse. He was clean, usually quiet (though not mute, unfortunately), and not hard to look at. He could be remarkably indulgent—so long as he was getting exactly what he wanted. Allura had learned to be very suspicious whenever he seemed to be accepting less—because if there was anything that Lotor liked better than getting what he wanted, it was to come by it in an underhanded way.
He did like a certain amount of attention and was clearly used to being petted and spoiled, but he never hurt her or even touched her carelessly. She had stopped expecting him to—but then, she had only provoked him so far and no further.
As she watched, he stretched and stirred. Lately, she had not been much inclined to provoke him at all.
The growing ease between them was not only her own doing. She was not so naive that she didn't know that their bed life might be rather different if he were truly serving only his own wishes. He had said that he pleased her because it pleased him, but that didn't explain the things he did not do. He pushed her so far and no further. Or perhaps her inexperienced touch was simply of no interest to him; he had never again asked for it.
He had eventually 'allowed' her to wash his hair again, however.
He shifted closer to her then, sliding an arm around her and gathering her close. Allura went obediently into his embrace, tipping her head back a little as he found his favorite spot behind her ear, his fingers sleepily combing her hair aside. He sighed contentedly, his chest rising and falling under her hands. No doubt this was his automatic response to a nude female in close proximity—that's what she would tell herself.
“Mmmm, Allura...” he murmured against her skin.
She frowned, feeling suddenly restless.
She couldn't deny that it... bemused her a little how much she seemed to please him. It pleased him when she yielded, entertained him when she resisted; for whatever reason he seemed to think she was the most perfect female on the face of this planet or any other.
The last person to have been pleased with her had been her father.
She had not been serious enough for Coran, not been ladylike enough for Nanny, not been worldly and battle-hardened enough for her team mates. For all of her popularity, even her people would have liked to see her devote more energy to saving the precarious royal line, or so her guardians had said.
They all loved her—of course they did—but losing that glowing approval from her life had left it a drab and lonely place just when it had become one battle after another. How odd that she would find it once more when everything else, all of her possibilities, had been bartered away.
It was all false, of course.
Lotor wouldn't find her pleasing for very long if she were free to speak her mind. Still, his obvious happiness was sometimes difficult not to respond to, even though he didn't deserve it one little bit.
Allura waited until the alien rhythm of his heart slowed and steadied, then she slipped out of his arms and began to dress, looking up from time to time to take in the changing landscape. The white water cascading over the notch it had made in the towering red-rock wall became a luminous blue, and the red-brown shadows were turning a rather surreal purple as the angle of light changed, turning away from the earth to set the clouds afire instead. The cliff face had weathered in such a way that it seemed to be cascading to rocky ground below just as much as the water. She supposed it was, just much too slowly for her to see.
The history books held that most all of Arus had been that lifeless red rock before it had been seeded. Here, in the rain shadow of the Southern Range, there was plenty of it still exposed. Nevertheless, green growth was everywhere, shouldering up to the water; its brilliant emerald completed the vivid landscape.
And watching over it all with her was a lion, carved from the same red stone. It was sitting on its powerful haunches, great wings folded neatly over its back. The location was beautiful, but it was the ruins she'd seen from the air that had attracted her to this particular spot.
There were many, many such abandoned sites, far more than there were people with any interest in them; they dated from the centuries when Arus had been the center of a great and prosperous empire, the source of an advanced technology that had been produced nowhere else. She reached out and touched its stone shoulder, still warm from the sun. Her father had been one of those with an interest, which had intensified greatly after her mother had died. Asking him about the ruins, the spectacular art and architecture that still marked the remaining population centers, had a been one sure way of getting his full attention.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lotor come to stand beside her. She looked up at him as he pulled his tunic over his head, tugging it in place over his powerful shoulders.
“Well?” she said, after a moment.
He glanced down at her as he pulled his hair out of his collar. “That's still not a view,” he said, amused. He reached out and caught a wayward curl of her own hair, rubbing it between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. “You'll just have to do better.”
Jaded beast, she thought, not bothering to reply. Vistas that had taken her breath had received, at most, a bored glance from himself. He looked over her head then, and a hint of interest entered his expression. “The symbol of the mighty Arun Empire... There are many nastier, more powerful creatures, but lions combine power and indolence in a way that is uniquely royal.”
Lotor made it sound as if... “You've seen one? A real one?”
He raised his brows. “Haven't you?”
Allura studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he were playing with her. She was getting better at telling what of the things he said to her was true, what was said to provoke her—and what was both. It was a big galaxy. Saying that one had seen a lion was more credible than saying that one had seen the golden, wish-granting otter that supposedly lived in Castle Lake—but not by very much. Nevertheless, he seemed to be serious. She looked back at the statue and gave it a wistful pat.
“There have never been any large predators on Arus,” she said. “But, I did see a unicorn once. I'm told they are a sign that the PlanGens had a sense of humor.”
On to Chapter 8
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 02:02 pm (UTC)Also liked Allura's thoughts, especially how except for her dad, she never seemed to have the approval of anyone else. SHe was always lacking. So this must be the calm before the storm, right before Allura starts chasing Lotor around the bedroom! XD
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:12 pm (UTC)Oh, that's right, I promised you Allura chasing Lotor around the bedroom. >:) Don't worry, that's still very much on the books, but not next chapter.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:15 pm (UTC)I will be patient and wait for the chasing! :D
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:19 pm (UTC)I thought about putting in a bit about how they were wishing their technology hadn't been damaged in the war so they could get a visual of what he sort of nefarious things he was up to in those remote locations...
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:21 pm (UTC)*laughs at the type of visual they would get if their machines worked.*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:25 pm (UTC)Heh, they'd get an eye-full alright. Hee! *imagines the look on Keith's and Coran's faces*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:03 pm (UTC)his obvious happiness was sometimes difficult not to respond to, even though he didn't deserve it one little bit.
Allura is very perceptive and I think Lotor is satisfying some unspoken need of approval and delight in her.
Love the colorful description of Arus.
must find an icon for Lotor-Allura
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 03:08 pm (UTC)This is the closest thing I've got and since Allura's unconscious it kind of takes something away. :p I should indulge myself with some Photoshop time and make a nice mushy one. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 05:03 pm (UTC)I liked this, even though it went by so quickly when I read it. Sometimes it's nice to know that you measure up completely to someone else's expectations. It's rare for anyone to receive that complete acceptance from anyone else. So, I can see from Allura's POV how that could be particularly...satisfying. Even if she *is* mourning the loss of her other life. That small passage gave me a pang on her behalf. To be stripped away from everything you know and love - I give her props for enduring. But then I always suspected she was a stronger character than the series ever gave her credit for.
Hey, maybe Lotor can take Allura to a zoo so she can see the big kitties in person! HEE. Sorry.
Oh hey! Isn't it your birthday today missy??
no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 05:09 pm (UTC)I know! Keith! I actually plan to be pretty K/A friendly in this fic. I can afford to be generous under the circumstances. >:)
It is my birthday!! *preens* Feedback is my favorite present. :D
Pssst.
Date: 2008-08-28 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-02 06:54 pm (UTC)Lotor and Allura are getting easier and easier with one another, though Allura is perceptive enough to know they're just getting along because she's stopped fighting him. I love that she's just given up on getting dressed once the clothes come off. What's the point?
I love the complete lack of affection in this: He did like a certain amount of attention and was clearly used to being petted and spoiled, but he never hurt her or even touched her carelessly. She had stopped expecting him to—but then, she had only provoked him so far and no further.
As she watched, he stretched and stirred. Lately, she had not been much inclined to provoke him at all. Lotor's like a regal house cat, taking everything as his due, and Allura's warming to him despite herself.
This was a lovely description: The trees had been silent through the warm afternoon, but now a breeze had set the topmost leaves to gossiping.
You're really making these cartoon characters three dimensional and fascinating. It's making for a very entertaining and emotional read.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-02 10:41 pm (UTC)I think her family would be beyond horrified. I'm sure Lotor wouldn't have it any other way either.
She doesn't trust him one little bit does she? >:) Or rather her more basic self is beginning to, which has her rational self even more on its guard.
I very much see Lotor as a big regal kitty.