Between Two Evils: Chapter 19

[botias]

After many month's hiatus, here's a long, action-packed chapter. There is sex and a body count. Thanks, tenjp and ronnochopper for your comments and encouragement.

Previous Chapters Here

Chapter 19

Lotor frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest. He drew breath to speak—but checked himself in time. Finally he muttered, “Are you certain those things are safe?”

Admes made a soothing sound, but a glance at his Lordship showed that he was amused. “They've been domesticated for many, many generations. Think on them as big house cats. Safer than house cats. Most aggression is born of fear, and they are essentially fearless.” Admes nodded at the tableau in front of them. “Like your lady.”

Lotor turned back in time to hear Allura shriek in a rather unladylike way. She had been lifted off of her feet and was draped over the broad head of one of the huge males as it pushed against her in an overabundance of leonine affection. She was incredibly beautiful. Her eyes were more luminous than any jewel ever coveted, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement and pleasure; she looked as tawny and sleek as Admes' little family mascots.

“Do they usually respond that way to strangers?”

“It's quite amazing really. They usually only respond that way to me—and to anyone with a handful of catnip. Or who has fed them their favorite treats.” Admes shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up. “She meets most of the criteria.”

Lotor took a healthy sip of his wine. “I think she just excels at attracting trouble. They had better not eat her. She was extremely expensive.”

“I heard.”

Lotor scoffed. “That was just the latest installment.”

There was silence for a while, between them.

The last time they had been to Nephalem, Allura had accused him of having no friends. He glanced at Admes, who was smiling as he watched the antics of his pets. Lotor had always thought of Admes as some sort of former partner-in-crime, when he thought of him at all. But Admes was also something of an exception among his social acquaintance being neither a sycophant, a schemer, nor viciously ambitious. The events ten years ago should have ended their association. Most people would have chosen to deny him or blame him or both, but Admes had not only discreetly stood by him, he had also maintained contact on and off over the years.

He had not been certain if Admes would still admit him after their most recent adventures, and he found himself feeling a rare gratitude.

Allura joined them then, still smiling and trailing a number of the younger and more curious cats. Their growls and chirps sounded over the patter of the nearby fountain. She smiled up at him before she turned her gaze to Admes. She said something to the handsome lord, but Lotor didn't hear it. When Allura looked at him that way, it was as potent as any intoxicant Nephalem had ever produced.

The past few weeks had been like nothing he had ever experienced. Each day was somehow better than the one before it. Each day Allura laughed a little more, swung her sword a little more fiercely, was more the woman he had defied an emperor for. It made him greedy, made him wish that he had pulled her into his ship the very first day he had laid eyes on her...

That pleasant little fantasy was almost enough to keep him from noticing that a medium-sized lion with a dark, half-formed mane and white marking on its chest was holding her wrist in its teeth like some sort of prize. To his relief she pushed the animal gently away and retrieved her arm. Her magenta cast was gone now. It had made sense to bring Allura back to Nephalem when it was time for her hand to be seen to, and today it had been replaced by a removable brace—turquoise with a floral pattern traced in gold.

Admes stepped forward and offered Allura his arm, and led them inside to dinner. The rest of the evening was one of good food, excellent drink, and better company. Allura was the perfect foil for Admes' worldly charm, and Lotor was content to leave them to it for the most part, slowly savoring his wine and the opportunity to watch his princess shine in the candlelight.

It was a good night. Too bad it was stolen time. Lotor banished the thought, and relaxed more deeply into his chair. His father had been trying to contact him for a few days, but Lotor had been ignoring him. It would be some time more before Zarkon sent someone to fetch him, and there were ways to make that more difficult as well.

***

Allura knew they had been Lord Admes' guests for hours, yet it seemed no time at all had passed until they were saying their good-byes in front of the great double doors that opened onto the plaza.

“Well, that went rather better than the last time didn't it?” Admes smiled as he took her wrap and mask from a servant and began to help her into them. Admes' expression became austere. “I must apologize again for what happened to you under my roof.”

Allura looked into his lordship's dark, thickly-lashed eyes. For the moment they lacked their mischievous sparkle. She had tried to be wary of Lord Admes, but it had turned out to be impossible, though not because of his wit or his handsome face, or even his magnificent pets. Her smile was real as she offered him her hand.

“All's well that ends well, my lord.”

“You are kind,” he said, and bowed over her hand.

“It's time we were off,” Lotor said from over her shoulder. He deftly extracted her hand and her mask from Admes and began to guide her toward the doors. She gave Lotor a look, but Admes only laughed softly.

The double doors were opening, stately slow, as she and Lotor approached them. Lotor had donned a pale half mask and Allura had been reaching for her own when Lotor stopped.

She tried to follow his gaze, to see what had so caught his attention in the slowly widening view of the vast plaza beyond, but before she could see anything he turned on his heel and was tugging her in the opposite direction.

At a loss for what to say or do, Allura could only meet Admes' interested gaze as Lotor pulled her past their host.

“Make my excuses,” was all that Lotor had to say in explanation, which was no explanation at all.

“Good bye!” she called to the quickly diminishing figure of Lord Admes, saw him wave as Lotor pulled her deeper into the vast mansion.

“Lotor, where are we going?”

“Out.”

He guided her through deserted, lamp-lit hallways, past a spacious moon-lit courtyard that she had never seen before. At one point she was sure that he had gotten lost, but before she could say anything, he had chosen a direction and they were off again. A short time later he led her into a vast, dark space. Allura looked around. The boundaries of the deserted ballroom were lost in shadow. Above, she was not surprised to find that an astonishingly large, clear dome displayed the night sky. As if it had been his destination all along, Lotor led her into the pool of pale starlight beneath the dome and stopped, guiding her hand around his waist. Allura slid her other arm around him as well as she came to rest against his back. She sighed and closed her eyes, savoring his warmth.

“You're lost, aren't you?”

“Impossible.”

Allura's mouth turned up. “How can the center of the universe be lost?”

“Exactly, My Jewel.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand.

Allura shivered. His voice had that ragged velvet quality that seemed to be just for her. If Lord Admes' lions could speak they would sound just like that.

She released him enough so that she could move around him until she was looking up into his shadowed face. The half-mask hid his expression and made him seem an imperious stranger. Allura's breath caught as a shiver of excitement ran down her spine. She could see just a glint of his eyes; the faint light rimmed his bright hair with silver and picked out the tips of his pointed ears.

If his appearance was unfamiliar, the warm mouth that slanted across hers was far from it. She hummed with pleasure as he opened her to the full caress of his mouth and tongue. She had come to crave his kisses, his taste, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him deeper into her. At some point he lifted her, and then she could kiss him as the starlight fell silently around them. Holding his face between her hands, she dipped her head again and again to taste him with the tip of her tongue or fit their mouths together for a long, thorough mating that left them both breathless. When she closed her teeth carefully on the curve of his lower lip, he growled. The sound was deep and low, but loud enough to break the spell she had fallen under.

She lifted her head; her eyes met his behind the mask, and then he was moving, taking her into the shadows. Her heart pounded as she began to suspect that his quarry of the moment was some likely piece of Lord Admes' furniture. He moved with the sure confidence of someone who could see in the dark and tackle anything he found there—and then he lowered her down. Or tried to. He seemed to trip over his own feet and they landed together in a tangle on some upholstered surface. Caught between consternation and laughter, Allura wriggled out from where she lay half pinned until she was on top of him.

“Lotor,” she hissed, trying to capture his roving hands. “What do you think you are doing? This is someone else's home—”

Lotor sounded breathless in the dark. “This is guest seating.”

“For matrons and—and wallflowers, not— Ohhh...” She had been tugging half-heartedly at the hand sliding up her thigh under her skirt; she hadn't really noticed the one tugging down her bodice until his fingers brushed her exquisitely sensitive nipples. “That's—”

Pregnancy had made her breasts larger, taut and heavy, their tips swollen and dark. As he began to stroke and play, circling the tingling tips, thinking became very difficult. “What if someone— Ahhh!” Her world narrowed to the aching void between her legs as his fingers slid inside her underthings to find her most intimate skin and test the slick welcome there.

This was crazy. It was wrong... But they were alone, and it was dark, and her skirts did cover them both... She leaned into his touch, her thighs opening, her body arching into his with a sinuous motion. He rewarded her with a warm, velvet tongue, and an exquisite suckling; long fingers plunged into her, pulling out to slide over her clit over and over until she quivered on the edge. When he finally guided his long, thick sex between her legs she slid down eagerly onto it, feeling the first slick jolt of pleasure as he pushed past the tight little opening, and then she wriggled her hips, working him inch by inch into her aching body. They barely had to move at all at first, just a rocking that made her gasp and tremble. His fingers, slick from her body, found one of her nipples and rolled. Allura had just enough awareness to stifle her shriek. Time ceased to exist there in the darkness; there was only her need and her lover until finally she lay rumpled and sated, his heart pounding under her ear.

They both stilled at the sound of footsteps, listening in silence until they faded to nothing. They sat up and began straightening their clothing, laughing like naughty children. Allura badly needed a wash, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Her mask lay where it had been dropped, a gleaming pebble in the starlight. She watched as Lotor retrieved it, then he returned and kissed her, quick and hard.

The ballroom seemed to provide Lotor with a needed point of reference, taking her hand he led her to an unattended door that opened onto a deserted side street. Allura was actually grateful to don her mask, since she wasn't sure if she would ever stop blushing.

“So, what was that about?” she asked, as Lotor chose a direction and began to walk.

He looked back at her. She couldn't see all of his expression, but she didn't need to.

“Don't be obtuse. Why are we taking the scenic route instead of getting into the vehicle that was waiting for us?”

“Because the vehicle wasn't all that was waiting.”

“Oh. The Regent?”

“No. Just business, but it will wait.”

They moved off the side street onto a main one then. The hour was late and most businesses were shut, but city was far from asleep. The window displays of the shops and the people passing provided a much more immediate target for her curiosity than whatever responsibility Lotor might be avoiding.

As they walked, hand in hand, she realized that Lotor's impulsive act had put her in yet another situation she had never been in before. She was anonymous. Not a princess, not a general, or an Imperial Prince's plaything, just another citizen of one of the galaxy's most fascinating cities.

***

“It smells funny.”

Allura ignored Lotor's grumbling as she looked around the interior of the pod they had just entered. The shell of the pod was crystal clear, even the floor beneath her feet. Padded, bench-style seating followed the circumference. At intervals the bench was punctuated by structures that might have housed the workings of the pod, or reinforced its structure, or both, but which also served as a back rests and dividers. Lotor sat down next to one of those with a sigh and leaned back, putting one booted foot up on the seat cushion. He stripped off his half-mask and let it fall beside him.

Allura did the same, settled next to him with her legs curled under herself—except that she used him as a backrest; together they watched the city fall away below them. Allura had wanted to ride the cielomode ever since she had seen the shining pods silently following their invisible paths over the city, but Lotor had dismissed it as something tourists did. Tonight, she had found herself conveniently, and not entirely untruthfully, too weary to walk another step when they were right next to a loading tower.

Lotor had given in fairly gracefully, for him, but he had purchased all the seats on the pod so that they would not have to share it. Allura buried her nose in the posy he had bought her. It would have been nice to continue the illusion that they were just another pair of lovers out for an evening, but she was more than content.

She didn't realize she had begun to doze until Lotor's quiet words stirred her from it, “What did the physic have to say today?”

Allura no longer felt sleepy.

“She removed the cast obviously,” Allura hesitated. “She said my hand is healing well.”

“And the babe?” Lotor prompted after a moment. Allura felt his big hand slide from her hip to her belly to cradle the slight curve there with possessive warmth.

“She thinks that the... pregnancy is also going well.”

Not for the first time, Allura tried and failed to imagine rattles, fluffy toys and baby blankets added to the décor in Lotor's quarters. It was easier to focus on the more technical aspects. “Dr. Pomme said that because your base species is human, the baby will likely get fully half of its DNA from you, whereas you inherited almost 99 percent of yours from your mother.”

She still remembered the moment that she had learned Lotor could not give her children that looked more like Zarkon than Lotor did himself. Her relief had been so great that she had felt light-headed. Allura did not mention that, and neither had she told him about the vivid nightmares she'd had on the subject. Such a relief...

Now, out of her new, more positive, outlook came a thought that she liked very much. Surely Lotor would see that a military base was no place for a baby. He might let her live here after the baby was born or even on Arus...

“I wish they could have your eyes,” he said, his voice surprisingly wistful.

There was a faint rustle as she shifted into a more comfortable position against him as the pod carried them across the sky. He seemed to have no insecurities about his appearance, but... “Was it ever a problem for you? Looking so... human.”

“No, why would it be?” he said mildly. After a moment, he continued, “When one of my people takes a wife of a different species, it's a mark of respect. When my father married my mother, it was understood that he was co-opting a worthy foe's strengths for our own people.” He looked at one of his gloved hands. “It's true that when I was a boy, I used to wish that I had claws, but—that was a long time ago.” His fingers closed slowly into a fist. “I no longer wish that I had my father's hands.”

Allura could only agree. “So, you don't think of yourself as a hybrid at all then.”

“No.” Then, after a moment, he said, “How do you think of me, Allura?”

Allura tensed. His tone was very casual. After a moment she sat up so she could look at him. He wasn't looking at her, instead staring out at the city below. While she had often admired him, and while he had often accused her of doing so, she realized that she had never actually told him anything of the kind.

He couldn't be unused to compliments, and as the seconds ticked by in silence she wondered if he were hoping for something elaborate or original. When she looked at him she thought of blue shadows on fresh snow, an arresting setting for the intense glittering amber of his eyes, tip-tilted and surrounded by dense black lashes. He had the face of an angel, the body of a god. She had been watching him tonight, stealing glances here and there. It was hard to help it—these days she didn't try very hard... “Beautiful. I think you are beautiful,” she said.

He turned his head to look at her, his cat's eyes wide, searching her face. Whatever he saw there pleased him. The changes to his expression were subtle, the smile that curved his lips was small, almost tentative, but the answering emotion that rose in her own heart told her that her simple words had brought him joy.

Yet even now there was a part of her that cried a warning. How could speaking the truth be wrong?

Allura was the first to look away. “I think it's the necklace,” she said, finally, reaching out to touch the strand of glittering crystal beads around his neck. She had won them at the street carnival and he had condescended to bend his proud, pale head for them. He had been very indulgent tonight.

“I had a wonderful time,” she said.

Lotor smiled down at her, smug of course, but the real warmth her compliment had brought him was there too. “I was right, was I not?" he said. "I told you there would be no kidnappings, poisonings or other mayhem.”

“You did. But I wore sensible shoes just in case, and you can't deny that I needed them.”

The rest of the trip was conducted in comfortable silence, not least because Allura had dozed off again before the cielomode reached its destination on the other side of the valley. She barely remembered the transport Lotor hired after that. She was surprised to find herself bundled into Lotor's ship instead of the large soft bed at his Nephalem residence, but she was so sleepy that it hardly mattered.

She woke to the soft sound of Lotor cursing.

Allura winced and arched her back. For longer journeys, the cockpit could be a little cramped.

Raising her head, she pushed her hair back from her face and gasped. Looming over her was an enormous Imperial transport ship. Around them, as far as her eye could see were more Imperial ships, silent, looming destruction.

When she and Lotor had left for Nephalem there had only been a handful of craft orbiting above the planet that she now called home. Lance had told her that it was called 'Planet Doom' by the G.A. soldiers, and the name had quickly caught on with the castle personnel on Arus. They were mocking it when they called it that, but Allura knew that it was gallows humor. The five men who had become the Lion Force were the only known prisoners to be taken through the planet's charged, treacherous atmosphere and ever be seen again alive.

Now the Imperial fleet had returned to its lair. Zarkon had almost certainly returned with it. Allura swallowed the bile that rose in her throat; the previous hours now seemed like a foolish dream, especially her notion that she might be done with nightmares.

***

Lotor navigated the planet's roiling, lightening-soaked atmosphere, and landed his ship with the ease of long practice, Allura silent at his side. She searched his face as he helped her down from the wing and set her carefully on her feet, but if she had questions they remained unasked. Perhaps she found his scowl discouraging.

As he led her out of his private bay they entered the bustle and energy of a returning army. Soldiers were exiting troop transport ships, moving swiftly in every direction, many with bulging carry-sacks strapped to their backs. As soon as they were empty, the ships departed, returning to the fleet in orbit for more cargo and personnel. Officers moved at a somewhat more leisurely pace. Lotor surveyed it all, very aware of Allura close at his side. He had thought himself so clever when he had avoided his father's envoy in Nephalem. In retrospect it might have been better to be forewarned.

“Hail, Prince Imperial!”

At the officer's call, all movement in the vast bay came to a halt. Everyone turned to face in his direction.

“Hail, Prince Imperial!” came the call again. They all snapped to attention and bowed at the waist.

“Continue,” Lotor said, without pausing himself, and activity immediately resumed. As he and Allura moved forward, everyone behaved as though they were invisible—yet gave them a very generous berth.

A litany of silent curses had run in the back of Lotor's mind since finding the fleet in port. When he saw the slave detail begin moving in their direction his curses gained a new fervor. Lotor shifted closer to Allura and a little ahead of her. He knew the slaves would bother her. In truth, the slaves bothered him too.

Humans could be exceptionally intelligent, strong, aggressive. Every so often, they were all three at once. They made dangerous slaves when there were so many species that could be controlled by a child wielding a crooked stick. The challenge they represented made humans more attractive to his father rather than less. That was fine for Zarkon; he was not the one who had to deal with them.

Lotor watched the column pass, guarded by a number of armed soldiers. The slaves kept their heads down, but he could tell that some of them had noticed him and, what's more, had recognized him. Lotor scowled. It made a great deal more sense to leave the enemy where they were found.

A shout jerked his head around.

The close-range blast starkly illuminated the guard, his attacker a dark shape against the blaze.

Lotor shoved Allura to the floor and leapt forward, drawing his sword even as the guard fell back and away. The slave turned, stolen weapon clenched in his fist. Lotor's first blow disarmed him—literally—his second sliced the incompetent guard across the chest, cutting him through.

Before the pieces hit the ground, he sought his next target.

The wounded slave was down, moaning; the others cowered back from him, eyes round and dark. The guards that had brought their weapons to bear quickly lowered them again.

He looked down. He took one breath. Then another. His nostrils twitched at the smell of burnt flesh.

The slave kicked feebly back from him, clutching what was left of his arm. He was afraid. Lotor stepped forward and planted a boot on the slave's ankle, stopping his retreat. He raised his sword, point downward. He smiled.

Allura.

His head whipped around, his gaze seeking his wife. She was safe, lying on her belly three strides away—she was looking, taking everything in. The expression on her face...

“Close your eyes, Allura. Now.” It was an Imperial command. His fiercest warriors struggled to keep steel in their spines when he spoke in such a way.

Allura turned her appalled gaze from the slave to him. Then her expression hardened. She would obey him—when Haggar began wearing pink.

He snarled in frustration.

There was nothing to be done for it: Allura was not the only one who watched. He raised the sword and brought it down.

***

Lotor flung his helmet to the floor and carried his wife through to the bedchamber.

He stopped, unsure of what to do next. He'd prepared a number of angry arguments on the way to his quarters, but she didn't seem inclined to argue.

He'd worried that she might shrink from him but she clung to him instead, face pressed against his throat. She was shaking. Mentally, he stabbed the rebellious slave a few more times.

When he'd looked to her again, after sending that cur to his maker, she'd had her face turned away. But he had no idea how much, if anything, she had spared herself.

He stalked to the bed and lowered them onto it.

She began to weep.

This intense emotion for someone she didn't even know was incomprehensible to him. He began to grow more angry. Did she wish the slave had killed him instead? Killed her? Did she expect him to be sorry for not being dead? On the other hand, he thought wrathfully, he'd heard that being sorry for not being dead was an expected part of the married state.

He might have gotten up and left her to this ridiculous display, but her hands were locked into fists on his clothes and he was reluctant to pry her away. So he fumed in silence as she made damp spots on his shirt. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

“Allura, look at me.” He began to stroke her hair.

“Allura,” he said again, allowing a bit of steel to creep into his voice.

To his relief, he saw her begin to get her emotions under control. He sat them both up.

She released her grip on him and began to dab at her face with a corner of the bed cover.

Everything was going to be fine. At heart, his wife was sensible being, he told himself.

Then Allura spoke. Her quiet words brought his anger rushing back. “How can I live like this. How can I see such suffering and—”

Lotor stood up in a rush and began to pace. His fingers raked through his hair. Then he stopped and regarded his wife. She was staring into space, her shoulders were bowed. She looked... haunted, even defeated.

“Look at me, Allura.” He fixed her with a fierce gaze. “You have to set aside these pointless emotions. Starting now. Surely you knew we wouldn't be flitting around the galaxy forever.”

When he had first begun to speak, Allura had straightened and looked to him. Now there was something in her eyes that made his belly twist and room seem oddly close and airless. Without intending to, he found himself back on the bed; he reached out and grasped hold of her shoulders. She didn't shrink away from him, not quite.

“You're a sensible woman,” he continued, searching her face for some sign that what he said was getting through to her. “You put aside your emotions and accepted my proposal, and it's given you many advantages, and you will continue to do so. You're not a child to weep because not everything is to your liking.”

Lotor stopped, abruptly aware that he was sounding more angry than cool and reasonable. As Allura watched him with unblinking eyes he deliberately relaxed his grip which had gotten a bit snug. “Frankly, you have no choice in the matter,” he continued.

“LOTOR.”

Allura jerked under his hands as his father's voice boomed from a comm in the main chamber.

“LOTOR, I expect to see you in my office at once. Do NOT keep me waiting any longer.”

Lotor would have said it was impossible for Allura to lose more color, but as he watched her pale still further he wanted to smash things, starting with his father. He'd always suspected that Zarkon had been a serious impediment to Allura entertaining his marriage proposals.

Allura slipped from his loosened grasp and headed for the bathing room.

“Allura—”

“Go,” she said over her shoulder, her voice hardly more than a whisper. She swiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her gown. “I need—I need to wash... Go.”

***

Lotor was in a rare mood when he presented himself to his father, torn between gratitude and rage for the interruption of that fraught little scene with his wife. His father would at least provide a distraction. Lotor found himself almost looking forward to listening to the old man's war stories from the past campaign, and to helping him shape his plans for the next.

“So, Lotor,” Zarkon said in greeting, “Your new bride is not at your side, I see—I suppose it's too much to hope that you've come to your senses while I was away?”

Lotor had been about to rise from bending his knee to his king. "Come to my senses?"

“I was hoping to hear that she was in the dungeon, or better yet in the pit, but thank the Gods that your idiocy hasn't gotten you killed. When I heard she was sharing quarters with you, I wondered who was going to be alive when I returned, and if it was her, whether I should kill her or crown her! You must keep your little rebel chained up.”

“Something like that,” Lotor said. Memories flashed to the fore: of Allura marveling at the gift of the sword, of himself showing her the escape route from his quarters. His father could not read minds thankfully, but he could hear Zarkon's response regardless. Idiot!

He was not an idiot. Allura was not his enemy, not anymore.

“I heard the men used to make bets before every action whether she would shoot you down literally or just figuratively, but you must have her properly subdued by now.”

At the sound of his father's low, satisfied laughter, all outward sign of emotion vanished from Lotor's face. He could guess what sort of imagined scenarios had pleased his father. They were the same sort that made Lotor's entire body tighten with a killing rage.

His father continued. “The thought of her getting her comeuppance was the only tolerable thing about that whole debacle.”

Lotor murmured something.

His father was silent for a moment, perhaps expecting him to elaborate in spite of his discouraging response. “Come, Lotor. Surely you must be getting bored with conquering the same ground. If you like a woman that will keep you on your toes, my recent successes have attracted an offer from the Arach Empire. Think of what such an alliance would mean, Lotor! And the Crown Princess is not only a reknowned beauty, she killed all of her 28 siblings before she reached the age of twelve! A family record!”

“Not bad for a pre-teen.” He was careful not to let any of his true emotions show in his voice. “What a pity I am already wed.”

His lack of interest set fire to his father's temper.

“It's not a pity! It's a travesty!”

“Enough!” Lotor came to his feet, his voice like the crack of a whip as his own temper broke free.

There was silence. Zarkon stared at him with amber eyes that were so like his own. As the silence lengthened, Lotor gave thanks he did not change color with his moods as Allura did. At some point he realized that he had closed a hand around the pommel of his sword; he quickly released it. In an attempt to smooth over his outburst, he continued, almost conciliatory, “The Arun Princess pleases me, Father. Have you no care for my happiness?”

Zarkon's blue visage twisted with disgust.

“Pah, happiness!” He spat the word through jagged teeth. “All sentiment is fleeting and foolish. Gold is eternal, empires last for generations!” Zarkon slammed a fist down on the table. “Happiness,” he scoffed again, his tone thick with scorn. “Even if I did care for such a thing, I would have you rid of her. She'll only bring you grief, Lotor," he said, stabbing a finger at him. "You can't make a queen out of an enemy, my foolish son.”

As he worked to keep himself in check, Lotor found himself surprised at the intensity of his father's response. Zarkon's lips were curled back from his teeth, as though he had pulled the words from some vile dungeon and he was disgusted to find them passing his lips.

“Rivals, yes,” Zarkon continued, almost to himself, “but enemies can only destroy one other. You will do what you must, and your little bleeding-heart wife will only hate you for it.”

Lotor stilled, all of his senses suddenly alert.

No one ever spoke of his mother. Lotor had stopped hoping for anything different a long time ago and was glad to stop. But there was something in him that just wouldn't die, a thin, feral hunger for some acknowledgment that she had lived outside his own memories. Now he wondered. Was Zarkon referring to Allura, or to his own late wife?

Zarkon abruptly fell silent; his claws traced a pattern on the glassy surface of the table that only he could see. Lotor waited, but Zarkon said nothing more, and after a brooding silence, he declared the subject closed with a slash of his hand.

“Yes, enough,” Zarkon said in a low voice. Then he straightened and strode around the table with the air of a person who has come to a decision, his gaze fixed on his son.

Lotor tensed as Zarkon approached. His father raised a massive arm—and threw it around his son's shoulders, pulling him close.

“Why quarrel,” Zarkon declared, “when we can feast and drink to victory instead?” Lotor received a friendly shake that nearly knocked his teeth loose.

Without waiting for an answer, Zarkon began to guide him in the direction of the throne room. Lotor found it a struggle to relax and allow himself to be led. He'd known he would have to attend the victory feast, but he'd intended to return and check on Allura before making an appearance. “Why indeed, Father.”

As he walked with his father down the dark hallway and then out onto the top of the royal dais, Lotor took the time to give himself a pithy lecture. He was letting his father get to him far too much; Allura was a grown woman; he had gotten used to having her near, but it was time to take the same advice he had given Allura and accept that things had changed; he could do without her for one evening.

The dais rose out of the polished floor of the vast chamber like a ceremonial mountain. Lotor escorted his father to his throne, bowed and continued on to stand by his own place, slightly lower and to one side, and waited there at attention.

If his father had a virtue, it was that he was not long-winded. Zarkon preferred to let his actions speak for him. It wasn't long before he gestured to the musicians and dancers and then the victory celebration began in earnest.

Lotor surveyed the scene below as he took his own seat.

Unlike the insipid vistas that his wife enjoyed, this view never failed to please him, and even now it brought him some measure of peace. His father sat higher than he did, it was true, but not by very much, and Lotor had now reached a place due to his own successes that they shared power to some extent.

In fact it had been the disagreement over his choice of bride that had drawn a line under this shift in power between them. There had been a time when Zarkon would have forced his will on his heir with casual brutality. It seemed those days were gone forever. Zarkon made his displeasure felt in a number of ways, and had threatened a number of others, but in the end he had done nothing that might have given his son cause to challenge him.

King.

Emperor.

Lotor liked the sound. But as things were now, each was an advantage to the other. Any challenger to the throne would have to take on them both. His power and autonomy were effectively limitless in that they met his every immediate desire. His choice of wife was enough of a victory over his father—for now.

Perhaps it had been too much to hope for that his marriage would be an end to the subject, but surely his father would give up soon?

As soon as Lotor had settled himself, a slave had silently offered him a filled goblet. Lotor took a measured sip and then drew his dagger and speared a piece of meat from the tray held for his pleasure by another attendant and sank his teeth into the tender, succulent flesh.

The assorted members of his father's court: lesser rulers, dignitaries, honored officers and hangers-on, celebrated below at long tables laden with food and drink, served and entertained by scantily clad slaves. He watched with only part of his attention; he still felt a strong desire to get back to his wife in spite of the doubtfulness of his welcome. Allura was angry and disappointed. Perhaps he was a little disappointed, too, that the honeymoon seemed to be at an end. They would both get over it. He took another drink as he conjured a memory of Allura helping him off with his clothes, the adorable look of concentration on her face, her hands so gentle on his skin. It was not the first time he had occupied himself at such functions with fantasies of Allura, but the fact that she was now a reality in his life added a strong element of delight to the activity. He sighed, full of remembered pleasures. Maybe she used to shoot at him and insult him, but now things were different. Now—

Some time later, Lotor's goblet dangled, forgotten, from his fingertips. His lips curled in faint smile. Fantasy Allura was pressing adoring kisses down the center of his body. “Your scepter is so grand, my beloved King,” murmured Fantasy Allura, as she measured him with both hands. With a shy look from under her lashes, she lowered her luscious pink mouth, lips parted to—

The vision vanished as adrenaline prickled down his spine.

Frozen in place, he brought all of his attention to bear on the celebration below. It took only a moment to see what had alerted his subconcious.

Drink in hand, he rose and began to descend from the dais. Aware of eyes on him, especially his father's, his smirk was a broad as it was false, but his gaze remained fixed on the celebration below.

The attention on him increased as he reached the main floor, but he had eyes for one thing only. He quickened his pace. The slave girl scurried ahead of him. Her shoulders were hunched; every cringing inch of her bespoke a desire to go unnoticed. No doubt she was wishing that she were invisible, but her fairy godmother seemed to be on vacation. Her skin tone set off her tiny gold costume to perfection, and the vivid purple silk of her 'skirts' snapped and fluttered in her wake.

She never saw him coming; he had a glimpse of her terrified, tear-streaked face as he laid hold of her, and then he had her up over one shoulder. There was a scattering of hoots and cheers from the crowd.

Smiling, Lotor turned and raised his goblet. “You see before you a newly married man,” he announced in a carrying voice. “Lords, Generals, Allies, a toast to my lovely bride!”

There was much wine-fueled laughter at the contrast between his toast and his debauched pose; there were raised goblets and shouted congratulations. Before it had died away, Lotor turned and started for the doors.

He walked between the stoic guards and out of the chamber, leaving the boisterous celebration behind. Thankfully, his father had made no effort to call him back. Lotor paused and took his time finishing the last of his wine, the serving girl trembling on his shoulder. He dearly hoped she didn't do anything disgusting, an occupational hazard of scaring people out of their wits. He tipped his head back. When the last drops of wine had traced across his tongue, he tossed the goblet aside, and headed for his quarters at a leisurely pace. He saw few people, then none. Only the essential positions were manned tonight.

In a deserted corridor, he swung the girl down from his shoulder and pressed her small shivering body into a darkened doorway.

She was lovely, a girl from Demos, her skin, eyes, and hair all the same distinctive coppery shade. She seemed completely cowed; tears streaked her face as she pleaded under her breath in her native tongue. He smirked. She must be new—too inexperienced to evade the drunken hands of the nobles or to be resigned when she was caught by one. He had seen her struggling with one of his father's guests from his position up on the dais.

Now she must feel that that she'd gone from the frying pan into the inferno... The musky scent of her perfume filled his nose; it couldn't quite cover the sharpness of sweat and fear.

The seconds ticked by. There was no sound except the sharp little huffs of her breath, her prayers for which there seemed to be no answer. It seemed that they were alone, and there was no one to save her. His evening was looking up.

“Back away from her, Lotor. Now!”

Lotor closed his eyes.

He hadn't heard that voice in a blessed while, but he hadn't forgotten it. He pushed away from the slave girl and turned to face the most annoying man in the galaxy.

“Captain Kogane,” he drawled, “what a tremendous surprise.” It was rarely better to be wrong, but this would have been one of those times.

When Lotor had spotted Kogane in the great hall, he'd been wearing a helm with a concealing faceguard. The helm was gone now, revealing bristling dark hair. Eyes of the same midnight shade regarded him over the barrel of a weapon aimed at his heart.

Again? Tonight? Really? The man had horrid timing. Couldn't he have attempted to rescue Allura a few weeks ago? Or a few weeks from now? Or never?

Lotor could also add 'useless at subterfuge' to the Captain's long list of crimes and incompetencies. It was the slave girl who had given him away. When a helmeted warrior at the victory feast had snatched her from a drunken lord's embrace, not to have her for himself but to send her on her way... That unlikely event had gotten Lotor's attention. Her mysterious savior had quickly seated himself at a nearby table, but Lotor had seen the crested helm turning about as if its wearer was checking to see if anyone had noticed. And then the helm had turned up toward him... It had been a simple matter to snatch the girl and lure Kogane out. He'd known the man wouldn't be able to resist playing the hero once more.

If only getting rid of him again could be as simple.

Soonest begun, soonest done. In a blur of motion, Lotor drew his sword and lunged forward. Kogane actually got in one shot before Lotor cut the weapon in half.

Kogane leapt out of range with admirable speed, dropping the ruined gun and drawing his sword. It was no costume prop. For a few seconds they faced one another. The situation had an almost comforting familiarity. Tiresome, but comforting. Any moment now, Kogane would spout some cliched drivel.

“You've raped her haven't you?” the low, rough words hung in the silence of the deserted corridor.

What? Lotor frowned. That wasn't part of the usual script.

He stared at the Lion Force Captain. The man was no enigma; to have dealings with him, even briefly, was to know him all too well. Lotor narrowed his gaze, really looking at him. This wild-eyed, flushed little man was almost a stranger.

“Haven't you?” Kogane demanded again.

The naked intensity in his voice made the hair on Lotor's nape stand on end. Kogane's free hand was clenched into a white-knuckled fist, his weight poised on the balls of his feet.

Lotor glanced at the petrified slave that had led to this confrontation. Kogane couldn't possibly have laid eyes on this woman before tonight, and now he was in a murderous froth over her? What was it with these people?

Just as Lotor made a silent vow not to drink the water on Arus, Kogane attacked with a growl of rage.

Lotor was ready. It wasn't long before Kogane realized it and fell back. They circled one another like enemy wolves, waiting.

"I was referring to Allura," Kogane sneered, "but with all your victims I suppose it's easy to get confused."

Lotor found himself beginning to get genuinely angry. "Allura is my wife."

"You're not fit to speak her name!" Kogane's sword snaked toward him in a series of strikes that were more of a yearning for his blood than a serious effort to shed it, but Lotor had no doubt that was coming. This wasn't combat, not just a rescue attempt, this was personal. His lip curled. It was almost as if...

"Why, Kogane, you sound like a jealous suitor, not a soldier. Were you in love with her?"

This bit of mockery succeeded beyond his expectations. Kogane seemed to shrink, some of his murderous tension dissolving into confusion. He could kill the captain this moment, skewer him right in the center of his bobbing Adam's apple...

Lotor laughed, enjoying every bit of the surprise and consternation on his would-be rival's face. "Gods! It's true isn't it? How pathetic!"

It seemed there was going to be some small fun to be wrung from this debacle.

“Don't bother denying it. I've fought many jealous men in my time.” He loved fighting jealous men. When he went on his voice was a satisfied purr. “You'll be happy to know that your concerns are groundless. The Princess and I are getting along very well.” He paused for effect. “So much so that congratulations are already in order.”

It took a moment for the words to words to sink in. When they did, Lotor could see that they struck Kogane like knives. His face lost its hectic flush, and his breath rushed out as at a blow.

“You know, I think she's developed a real fondness for me,” Lotor confided.

Kogane lunged.

“You.”

“Sick.”

“Bastard!”

He punctuated his words with swift strikes from his sword. Lotor countered them easily enough. Then their blades came together with a clash and held.

His opponent regarded him over their crossed blades. “She despises you, Lotor. But she will never hate you as much as I do.”

Lotor shoved him off.

Your bleeding-heart little wife will only hate you...

Lotor scowled, irked in spite of himself. What was it with everyone tonight? Allura did not hate him—she was not his enemy.

“Is it so impossible that Allura might care for me?” He looked to the slave still cowering in the doorway. “Is it?” He got no support from that quarter. In fact, her pretty, tear-streaked face bore an unfortunate resemblance to Allura's the last time he had seen it. Just a glance from him made her flinch.

Kogane attacked again. Lotor blocked, waiting for his opportunity. He would disarm the man, make him very sorry he had intruded, and then find some way to boot him back to Arus without his father finding out.

Kogane's earlier show of emotion had fled; his eyes were black staring holes. His composure was more disconcerting than his rage had been. The captain struck, a lightening fast series of moves that were not easily countered. He tried again, and then again with a disconcerting focus. Lotor could see him learning, adjusting his technique with each foray.

As the battle continued, Lotor had to confront the fact that he had still not recovered his old stamina yet. While there were many things about Kogane that were laughable, Lotor could privately admit that his skill with a sword was not one of them.

As an unnatural fatigue began to tug harder at his limbs, his plan for Kogane to continue breathing faded in favor of victory however he could get it. He wasn't worried, of course, but he found himself wanting more and more to bring the fight to a close. And then he got his wish.

Kogane struck high, another powerful blow that ended in a clash of weapons. The next thing Lotor knew, pain exploded in his side. Kogane had ducked under his guard and struck him with the hilt of his sword as he passed—the blow had fallen very near to where the Malus spine had been, and the resulting pain was devastating.

The next blow knocked his sword from his hand with such force that his fingers went numb.

Lotor staggered forward, disarmed, his enemy at his back, and found himself face to face with the slave who had remained in petrified witness. Snarling, he twisted like a cat, grabbed the girl and flung her between himself and Kogane's sword.

On to Chapter 20

Comments

[tenjp.livejournal.com]

LOVE IT LOVE LOVE IT LOVE IT

[botias.livejournal.com]

Thank you!!

[(Anonymous)]

*deep long sigh* Ah yes. Now this year was worth the wait. *smiles with satisfaction*

[botias.livejournal.com]

Glad you're still interested after all this time. :) Thanks for commenting.

[(Anonymous)]

Wow Keith and Lotor fighting and why does he want the slave girl for he has Allura now can't he just behave himself thanks for another excellent chpt.C.H.

[botias.livejournal.com]

You'll be relieved to know that he only grabbed the slave girl to draw Keith out. :) But as a general rule, no I don't think he can behave himself. Glad you liked.

Love it!

[(Anonymous)]

So happy when I saw there was a new chapter. This is such a well-written story! They seem so in-character. I never get tired of rereading it! The moonlit ballroom scene was especially nice. You paint such wonderful visuals with your writing. I can easily picture every scene. I also like that she told him he was beautiful and his reaction. I'm dying to read how it all plays out. I really want her to stay with him. How about a happy ending?:)

Re: Love it!

[botias.livejournal.com]

Great! Thanks so much for your feedback. I love to hear that the visuals are working for people, and that you thought that scene where she complimented him was touching. Yay!

[holy-framework.livejournal.com]

Dude, I cannot even begin to tell how happy you've made me by updating this again! I was afraid it was gone forever, but yea! Absolutely love this story and I'm dying to know the gender of Lotor and Allura's child. I hope it's a boy. Is it a boy? I hope it's a boy.

Also, why did you choose to use Keith's Japanese name? (that is if "Kogane" was him you were referring to) And is Admes an original character? That has me curious too because I don't think I remember him from the shows.

Right, so can't wait to see more!

[botias.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I actually don't know what the baby is yet. Though I'm not going to cop out and have there be twins with one of each. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

I've copied the comics, using Keith's GoLion name as his last name. I didn't think that Keith and Lotor would be on a first name basis, though Keith and Allura are. Admes and Nephalem and its inhabitants are all original.

[cleoius.livejournal.com]

You know me...commenting as I read. Love how Allura gets along so well with the lions, while it makes Lotor nervous!


The past few weeks had been like nothing he had ever experienced. Each day was somehow better than the one before it. Each day Allura laughed a little more, swung her sword a little more fiercely, was more the woman he had defied an emperor for. It made him greedy, made him wish that he had pulled her into his ship the very first day he had laid eyes on her...

This! I just adored this whole paragraph!

Allura's mouth turned up. “How can the center of the universe be lost?”
“Exactly, My Jewel.” His thumb stroked back of her hand.
Ha ha! I also loved this bit, the names they have for each other. XD


Man...at first I thought maybe he saw Keith, but now I think he saw someone his dad sent to fetch him back to Doom. And Lotor so does nto want his playtime over with! That was such a fun scene too! I like how they pretty much had a little date, walking the city, and riding those pods! XD

Heh...his ego would be enormous if she said he had the body of a god! XD

Wow nifty view for humans being far more trouble than it's worth to make them slaves. And that trouble being something that appeals to Zarkon! XD And damn....the slave assasination attempt suire brougth a damper and a reality check on their situation. D:

Heh...I liked the bit where Zarkon said he wondered if he should kill or crown Allura if she had suceeded in killing Lotor! XD

Ha ha, Keith is so gullible and quick to rescue a damsel in distress. Fell right into Lotor's trap....oh ho ho!

Ah...and Keith is in love with Allura! Added fuel to the fire that did!

Aw....Lotor's feeling insecure about Allura's true feelings for him. *pets*

ANd oooh what a cliffhanger! *bites nails, glad chapter 20 is already up!*

Awesome chapter, thanks for sharing.

[botias.livejournal.com]

Thanks for this wonderful feedback! I'm glad this stuff worked for you.

.I liked the bit where Zarkon said he wondered if he should kill or crown Allura if she had suceeded in killing Lotor!

Zarkon likes Lotor, but Zarkon seems like he likes results even more sometimes. ;)

[cleoius.livejournal.com]

You're very welcome! And yes! Zarkon does come off as someone who favors those who get results. However, in Zarkon's opnion, Allura would ruin the Drule Empire. XD