Shattered
By KittyShannon
C&Cs to [email protected]
Disclaimers: Voltron and all associated characters are owned and copyrighted by WEP. Original/new characters belong to the author.
Rating: M Violence, Sexual Situations
Author’s Notes:
Thank yous - Please let me say thank you to my beta-reader. Lynne is one of the most generous and kind-hearted people I have ever known. She is a magnificent writer, and I am always left in awe of her talents! But, more than that, she is one of my dearest friends and has been for many, many (many) years now. Together, we have laughed and cried, watched our children grow, celebrated our triumphs, lamented our follies. Without her encouragement and support, I wouldn't have started writing fan fiction again, and in fact I may have given up writing all together.
So, Lynne, thank you - for all that and more! Your honest insights are brilliant and always spot-on. I mean it when I say, you make me a better writer.
I also want to say a huge thank you to my heart-sister, Adiel. You were so helpful in pointing out those places where I had just zipped along and jumped ahead of myself, leaving the reader to say, "wait, what?!?" As well as having hawk-eyes and spotting those typos I tend to overlook!!
Be Advised - I believe our experiences - both good and bad - are what mold us into unique individuals. Violence, sex, foul language, death - these things are all part of life. They’re also some of the things that have an immense impact on us and how we cope. Sometimes we must examine the things that make us uncomfortable in order to wholly understand not just the characters and their stories, but ourselves. That’s what I have tried to do here.
Spoiler Alert - If you've never seen Voltron: Defender of the Universe, there are spoilers up ahead! When I write fanfics, I try to grab bits and pieces from the original series and plop them into my story lines - I think it gives perspective with regard to the time line, as well as to delve a little deeper into the characters and their psyches.
Originally Published 10/20/2015
Rating: M Violence, Sexual Situations
Author’s Notes:
Thank yous - Please let me say thank you to my beta-reader. Lynne is one of the most generous and kind-hearted people I have ever known. She is a magnificent writer, and I am always left in awe of her talents! But, more than that, she is one of my dearest friends and has been for many, many (many) years now. Together, we have laughed and cried, watched our children grow, celebrated our triumphs, lamented our follies. Without her encouragement and support, I wouldn't have started writing fan fiction again, and in fact I may have given up writing all together.
So, Lynne, thank you - for all that and more! Your honest insights are brilliant and always spot-on. I mean it when I say, you make me a better writer.
I also want to say a huge thank you to my heart-sister, Adiel. You were so helpful in pointing out those places where I had just zipped along and jumped ahead of myself, leaving the reader to say, "wait, what?!?" As well as having hawk-eyes and spotting those typos I tend to overlook!!
Be Advised - I believe our experiences - both good and bad - are what mold us into unique individuals. Violence, sex, foul language, death - these things are all part of life. They’re also some of the things that have an immense impact on us and how we cope. Sometimes we must examine the things that make us uncomfortable in order to wholly understand not just the characters and their stories, but ourselves. That’s what I have tried to do here.
Spoiler Alert - If you've never seen Voltron: Defender of the Universe, there are spoilers up ahead! When I write fanfics, I try to grab bits and pieces from the original series and plop them into my story lines - I think it gives perspective with regard to the time line, as well as to delve a little deeper into the characters and their psyches.
Originally Published 10/20/2015
Click on the following links to move along to that chapter.
She sat with her knees hugged to her chest, the icy cold of the stone floors seeping into her bones. Taking a deep breath, she laid her head down on her crossed arms, long blonde locks brushing the filth that littered the floor.
Her eyes were shut tightly, as if somehow not seeing would make the horror of her situation melt away.
She had no idea how long she'd been here, in this dungeon, deep below Castle Doom. The days and nights had started running together a long time ago and it seemed every minute that crept by stole a bit more of her hope. If the other women hadn't needed her, if they didn't continue to look to her for leadership, for hope, she would have given up already - she would have found a way to end her life and this abuse.
As she rested her bruised and battered body, her mind continued to race... Why hadn't anyone come searching for her... did anyone even realize she was missing... shouldn't someone have come by now... ?
Most of her family was dead; murdered by those monsters now keeping her prisoner. In an attempt to prevent the Forces of Doom from enslaving his people, her father, King Kova, had struck an agreement with King Zarkon. Pollux had a space cannon with the ability of destroying a planet completely; in order for her home world to remain free, King Zarkon would be allowed to use that monstrous weapon to annihilate Planet Arus. In addition, her eldest brother, Prince Avok, had agreed to be turned into a robeast so that he could destroy Voltron.
When those plans went awry, her father had quickly found that he had, indeed, made a deal with the devil. Zarkon gave the command to execute the Polluxian Royal Family along with their entire court. With Avok, now turned into a robeast and attacking Voltron, the giant robot's pilots had no choice but to defend themselves - resulting in the Polluxian Prince's death.
She still couldn't believe Avok was gone... He had only been a year older than she, and growing up in a dark and lonely castle, unable to play with the other children because of their stations, the two siblings had been inseparable. From early childhood, they had been the best of friends, relying on one another for everything. Everything except Avok's final decision. She had argued with him in an attempt to get him to see how foolish it would be to become a robeast. But her brother had been so stubborn; so determined to prove himself, and in the end it had cost him his life.
Her heart ached, but she had to let him go... She had to think of the brother she hoped was still alive - Bandor.
After witnessing their father's brutal assassination, she and her younger brother, Prince Bandor, had made a run for it, trying to steal an airship so they could make their escape. But, they too, were thwarted when Prince Lotor intercepted them and they were forced into his custody. Her only comfort was that as Lotor's ship had begun to lift off, she had shoved Bandor from the open door and ordered him to run...
Her greatest prayer was for her baby brother... she hoped he had found sanctuary, perhaps he had found help... The Voltron Force-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone moving close, and the smell of hot broth and bread.
"Princess...? Princess, please, you must eat."
Romelle opened her midnight blue eyes and smiled weakly at her maid. The poor thing was no more than a girl, maybe sixteen years old at most. "Thank you, Darla. Why don't we share it?"
Darla bowed her head, her once lustrous brown locks now greasy and lank. "You must keep up your strength, your majesty."
They had started as a group of nine, now only four were left. Princess Romelle looked over the girl's head at the other two women who still remained alive. They huddled together under a scrap of material that was supposed to be a blanket, and returned Romelle's gaze. Their haunted eyes let her know without doubt, if she gave up, they were lost.
"Your majesty," Darla insisted, forcing the bowl into Romelle's hand. "When we are freed and return home, you will become the crowned Queen of Planet Pollux. You must be fit to lead our people. Eat."
Romelle looked down into the bowl of broth and watched as a tear slipped down her cheek and splashed into the liquid. She took a steadying breath, "Of course. You're right. And when we return home I will need all of you more than ever, so you, too, must eat and keep up your strength."
Her words had the desired affect and soon they were all feeling a little less hungry, and a little less cold as Romelle huddled them all together to sleep, hoping that shared body heat would help them survive the biting cold of another night on Planet Doom.
Her eyes were shut tightly, as if somehow not seeing would make the horror of her situation melt away.
She had no idea how long she'd been here, in this dungeon, deep below Castle Doom. The days and nights had started running together a long time ago and it seemed every minute that crept by stole a bit more of her hope. If the other women hadn't needed her, if they didn't continue to look to her for leadership, for hope, she would have given up already - she would have found a way to end her life and this abuse.
As she rested her bruised and battered body, her mind continued to race... Why hadn't anyone come searching for her... did anyone even realize she was missing... shouldn't someone have come by now... ?
Most of her family was dead; murdered by those monsters now keeping her prisoner. In an attempt to prevent the Forces of Doom from enslaving his people, her father, King Kova, had struck an agreement with King Zarkon. Pollux had a space cannon with the ability of destroying a planet completely; in order for her home world to remain free, King Zarkon would be allowed to use that monstrous weapon to annihilate Planet Arus. In addition, her eldest brother, Prince Avok, had agreed to be turned into a robeast so that he could destroy Voltron.
When those plans went awry, her father had quickly found that he had, indeed, made a deal with the devil. Zarkon gave the command to execute the Polluxian Royal Family along with their entire court. With Avok, now turned into a robeast and attacking Voltron, the giant robot's pilots had no choice but to defend themselves - resulting in the Polluxian Prince's death.
She still couldn't believe Avok was gone... He had only been a year older than she, and growing up in a dark and lonely castle, unable to play with the other children because of their stations, the two siblings had been inseparable. From early childhood, they had been the best of friends, relying on one another for everything. Everything except Avok's final decision. She had argued with him in an attempt to get him to see how foolish it would be to become a robeast. But her brother had been so stubborn; so determined to prove himself, and in the end it had cost him his life.
Her heart ached, but she had to let him go... She had to think of the brother she hoped was still alive - Bandor.
After witnessing their father's brutal assassination, she and her younger brother, Prince Bandor, had made a run for it, trying to steal an airship so they could make their escape. But, they too, were thwarted when Prince Lotor intercepted them and they were forced into his custody. Her only comfort was that as Lotor's ship had begun to lift off, she had shoved Bandor from the open door and ordered him to run...
Her greatest prayer was for her baby brother... she hoped he had found sanctuary, perhaps he had found help... The Voltron Force-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone moving close, and the smell of hot broth and bread.
"Princess...? Princess, please, you must eat."
Romelle opened her midnight blue eyes and smiled weakly at her maid. The poor thing was no more than a girl, maybe sixteen years old at most. "Thank you, Darla. Why don't we share it?"
Darla bowed her head, her once lustrous brown locks now greasy and lank. "You must keep up your strength, your majesty."
They had started as a group of nine, now only four were left. Princess Romelle looked over the girl's head at the other two women who still remained alive. They huddled together under a scrap of material that was supposed to be a blanket, and returned Romelle's gaze. Their haunted eyes let her know without doubt, if she gave up, they were lost.
"Your majesty," Darla insisted, forcing the bowl into Romelle's hand. "When we are freed and return home, you will become the crowned Queen of Planet Pollux. You must be fit to lead our people. Eat."
Romelle looked down into the bowl of broth and watched as a tear slipped down her cheek and splashed into the liquid. She took a steadying breath, "Of course. You're right. And when we return home I will need all of you more than ever, so you, too, must eat and keep up your strength."
Her words had the desired affect and soon they were all feeling a little less hungry, and a little less cold as Romelle huddled them all together to sleep, hoping that shared body heat would help them survive the biting cold of another night on Planet Doom.
"Hagar! Attend me!" Lotor, better known as the Crown Prince of Doom, boomed as he stormed into the laboratory where the evil old witch practiced her most wicked ways. He looked around, his reptilian like eyes glowing almost orange, instead of their usual gold, in the odd lighting. He slowed his gait, wary of what hazard could be lurking around any corner in this wretched room.
"Where are you, you old bag?" He mumbled, scanning the chamber, almost hoping that he wouldn't find her.
The cackling voice came from behind him, making his blue skin crawl.
"You bellowed, My Prince?"
He turned to face Hagar, careful to wipe any discomfort from his features. "Yes, I called you, Witch."
Hagar dipped her head in an attempt to look as if she were his supplicant; in reality she did so to hide her wicked smile. It really did bring her the greatest pleasure, unnerving the arrogant Prince. She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm, her scaly green and brown skin abrading his smooth blue flesh. She raised her yellow eyes to his and smiled, her snake like fangs scraping her lower lip. "How may I serve you, young master?"
He jerked his arm away and sneered at her. He really didn't understand his father's obsession with the ugly old witch... and no matter how he tried, he couldn't believe the stories that she had once been one of the most beautiful women in all the universe! He returned his attention to the matter at hand.
"I want to know what's going on with my newest robeast."
"You must be patient, My Prince," she pointed toward a fluid filled cylinder. "He isn't like the others..."
"No, he isn't." Lotor snorted as a smile spread over his cold, handsome features. Patience wasn't his strong suit, but as he considered the man suspended in some sort of blue gel, he knew this was one thing he could wait for. He looked over the male specimen - well above six feet, muscular but slim, black hair and pale skin... He couldn't remember the color of his eyes, but details like that were meaningless to him. The most important thing was this man was a true warrior, willing to give his life for his cause.
Hagar's cackling voice broke into his thoughts.
"Do not forget, the more he wants to become a robeast, the mightier and more vicious he will become!"
"And he will need to be both to put an end to the Voltron Force for good. There will be no way those idiots will have the strength to destroy him."
"Of course you are right, Prince. But you must allow me the time to wipe away his memories, or he may refuse to fight against Voltron."
Lotor studied the man for a moment longer before looking down at the witch. It really was a brilliant plan. Once the human's body was healed from the poison Hagar had infected him with, they could begin brainwashing him into thinking he was a warrior for the Forces of Doom. He looked back at the man, studied him for a moment... these humans all looked the same to him.
"What was his name again, Witch?"
"Sven."
"Yes, Sven." Lotor turned and started toward the door. "Won't his friends be surprised to know Sven is still alive and well. And ready to kill them all."
"Where are you, you old bag?" He mumbled, scanning the chamber, almost hoping that he wouldn't find her.
The cackling voice came from behind him, making his blue skin crawl.
"You bellowed, My Prince?"
He turned to face Hagar, careful to wipe any discomfort from his features. "Yes, I called you, Witch."
Hagar dipped her head in an attempt to look as if she were his supplicant; in reality she did so to hide her wicked smile. It really did bring her the greatest pleasure, unnerving the arrogant Prince. She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm, her scaly green and brown skin abrading his smooth blue flesh. She raised her yellow eyes to his and smiled, her snake like fangs scraping her lower lip. "How may I serve you, young master?"
He jerked his arm away and sneered at her. He really didn't understand his father's obsession with the ugly old witch... and no matter how he tried, he couldn't believe the stories that she had once been one of the most beautiful women in all the universe! He returned his attention to the matter at hand.
"I want to know what's going on with my newest robeast."
"You must be patient, My Prince," she pointed toward a fluid filled cylinder. "He isn't like the others..."
"No, he isn't." Lotor snorted as a smile spread over his cold, handsome features. Patience wasn't his strong suit, but as he considered the man suspended in some sort of blue gel, he knew this was one thing he could wait for. He looked over the male specimen - well above six feet, muscular but slim, black hair and pale skin... He couldn't remember the color of his eyes, but details like that were meaningless to him. The most important thing was this man was a true warrior, willing to give his life for his cause.
Hagar's cackling voice broke into his thoughts.
"Do not forget, the more he wants to become a robeast, the mightier and more vicious he will become!"
"And he will need to be both to put an end to the Voltron Force for good. There will be no way those idiots will have the strength to destroy him."
"Of course you are right, Prince. But you must allow me the time to wipe away his memories, or he may refuse to fight against Voltron."
Lotor studied the man for a moment longer before looking down at the witch. It really was a brilliant plan. Once the human's body was healed from the poison Hagar had infected him with, they could begin brainwashing him into thinking he was a warrior for the Forces of Doom. He looked back at the man, studied him for a moment... these humans all looked the same to him.
"What was his name again, Witch?"
"Sven."
"Yes, Sven." Lotor turned and started toward the door. "Won't his friends be surprised to know Sven is still alive and well. And ready to kill them all."
Boots clicked on the stone floor, the sound echoing through the underground passageways and into the dungeon's cell. Romelle's eyes flew open, and her heart began to race as she strained to listen, trying to gauge the number of people approaching but it was impossible; the closest she could guess would be several, and that didn't help at all. She drew in a deep breath and held it, concentrating on whomever approached and anything that might clue her in on what was about to happen...
And then she heard it - the sound of water splashing onto the rock floors as it sloshed over the sides of its vessel. Her stomach turned and she fought back tears. Water being carried in meant that it was her bath time, and that meant Lotor had, once again, sent for her.
Romelle had learned much about the forces of Doom since her capture - the first being there was a huge difference between a Drule citizen and a Doomian. The Doomians made up the majority of Zarkon's army. They were smaller in size and stature than the Drules, but remarkably strong. They were all bald, had pointy ears and empty yellow eyes, and their skin varied between differing shades of brown, grey and black. They were peasants, unimportant to their king and their kingdom, just a thing to be used up and tossed out when they no longer suited Zarkon's purpose... Sometimes, Doomians could be bribed, swayed even, but not the Drules.
The Drules were on a different level in the Doomite hierarchy - they were lesser royalty. And unlike the Doomians, they were all remarkably tall, some had hair, and they all had blue, purple or green skin with reptilian like eyes of varying colors. They were allowed to do as they pleased, as long as it pleased the King and his Court. And they enjoyed being cruel; they enjoyed inflicting pain, especially on anyone they saw as inferior... And they saw all other species as inferior.
The Drule soldiers that served as Prince Lotor's personal guardsmen leered at her as they opened the cell's door. Slaves carried in a tub full of tepid water, setting it down in the middle of the room. They stepped back, making way for two female Drules, who smiled haughtily at the four women cowering on the floor before one of them addressed Romelle.
"Our Prince doesn't want his pretty little prize unkempt. Come and let us scrub the smell of filth from your skin."
The speaker was known as Maudi - she was the taller of the two Drule women; she had dark gold eyes, lavender skin, and black hair that fell well below her waist. She also had a quick wit and sharp tongue, and nothing seemed to bring her more pleasure than eliciting human tears.
With a silent prayer, Romelle rose and walked toward the tub. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other female Drule, the one called Egla, as her slender blue fingers opened a box Romelle knew to be filled with scented soaps and oils; things Lotor demanded she be scrubbed with each time she was brought to him. Egla lifted a bottle to her nose, took in the scent, and smiled wickedly as she dipped her fingers into the oil before running her hand through her snow white hair.
Romelle's eyes moved up to the woman's face and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the twisted intent in the other's blood red eyes.
The Princess of Pollux now stood at the edge of the tub and despite all of her determination not to show it, she could feel herself start to shiver with fear. Quickly, she glanced back toward the other women in her group and tried to mask the trembling by rubbing her arms as if she were cold. No matter what form of torment they inflicted upon her, she must remain strong for the others. Closing her deep blue eyes momentarily, she let out a steadying breath before returning her attention to her oppressors.
Egla moved to stand behind the beautiful Princess. "Our mighty Prince says he wants us to take special care in your bath tonight... "
Romelle remained silent, knowing these two would do everything in their power to make her cry, to make her beg for mercy - and she refused to ask clemency for herself while her ladies-in-waiting suffered so. Besides, she had found early on, the more she responded, the more it excited these disgustingly cruel beings. She refused to acknowledge them, to give them that satisfaction.
Maudi laughed, the sound a sweet tinkling, so odd and out of place in the dank cell. "Pretty human," she reached out and ran her fingers down the length of one of Romelle's long blonde locks before she twisted her fist into the silken strands. She looked over at her cohort, "Touch her hair, Egla... See how silky it feels..."
The Polluxian Princess stiffened as she felt the other Drule step in close and rub her blue-skinned body against her back. Egla reached up and ran her fingers into the hair at the nape of Romelle's neck. "Very soft," she agreed before burying her nose into that same hair and breathing deeply. "And she still smells of her last bath."
Maudi tugged Romelle's hair to her nose and sniffed. "So she does."
The two Drules then began a harsh game of tug-of-war with the Polluxian's hair, jerking her one way, then the next, before they both began to laugh at the pain betrayed by Romelle's involuntary wince and reddening face.
"I suppose that's enough." Maudi said mockingly. "Her bath grows cold and these humans are so frail! Prince Lotor would be infuriated if she were to catch a cold."
Egla let out a deep, throaty chuckle, before whispering into Romelle's ear. "Indeed. You will need all of your strength if you want to survive Lotor's captivating love play."
Maudi laughed loudly and unexpectedly, startling all the other women except her dearest friend who smiled slyly. "Captivating! Oh, Egla, how clever of you!"
For just a moment, it seemed Romelle had been forgotten, but, of course, that would be too good to be true.
Suddenly, Egla shook Romelle. "Now, it's time for you to strip, pretty pet."
Romelle glanced quickly at Prince Lotor's personal guards who watched her lasciviously from the doorway. Casting her eyes downward, she quickly blinked away hot tears as she began untying the rope at her waist before tugging the frayed shift over her head and dropping it on the floor. Hoping to shield herself from the lewd looks, she hastened her steps toward the tub. But, before she could lower herself into the bathwater, Egla grabbed her arms and spun her naked form to face the leering men.
"Now, now, Princess... Why are you in such a hurry..." She started laughing as she reached around and cupped one of Romelle's full breasts. "Don't you want to show these two what they're missing?"
Maudi burst into giggles. "Yes, little human, you must learn to make these men lust after you... Someday, your life will depend on it."
Romelle jerked her head toward Maudi. Her lips parted, ready to ask what the Drule woman meant, but she caught herself and quickly clamped her mouth closed.
"Did you see that, Egla? I think our little pet almost spoke!"
"She did, didn't she? What did you want to say little human?"
Maudi moved near to Romelle; she leaned in so close their lips almost touched. "My lover asked you a question. It displeases me that you won't speak to us. And you know what happens when you refuse us satisfaction ..."
Romelle's eyes filled with fear, and Maudi smiled wickedly at the sight. A long purple finger reached out and traced Romelle's full pink lips, before she used it to trace a path down to the breast that Egla's azure hand still cupped. She ran the offending finger over the soft pink skin of Romelle's nipple.
"Don't you know?" Maudi's voice carried a bitter note. "Once Lotor tires of you, he'll throw you away just like a piece of trash."
"The only reason he even wants you is because you look just like his Princess Allura." Egla's words were laced with jealousy and venom.
"And the only reason he wants that silly piece of pink fluff is because she looks so much like his dead mother." Maudi watched Romelle intently as she spoke her next words.
"You are only a human. His protection of you is dependent on how good of a whore you become. If you learn to please our Prince, perhaps he will keep you in his harem." She shrugged. "If not he will either kill you or give you away as a gift."
"Please...stop!"
Maudi paused to look over her victim's shoulder. Until this point, the other human women had remained silent upon order of their monarch. Her dark gold eyes searched Romelle's face, feeling nothing but elation at her obvious disgrace. She met Romelle's eyes before turning her attention to the youngest member of the group of women now huddled together on the floor.
"She's quite pretty, this little one..."
"She is just a child," Romelle's voice was thick with unshed tears. "Please, I beg you, let her be."
"Why, Princess," Maudi began as she returned her attention to her captured prey. "Don't be so selfish! It's all right if your young friend would like to join us."
"No, she would not!"
Egla began to laugh, a low chuckle next to Romelle's ear. "Suddenly you are a feisty one..."
"And we are about to have so much fun," Maudi whispered the words against Romelle's lips before she returned to inflicting even more humiliation. This time, she fell to her knees and began to suckle at her victim's breast, licking her nipple until it hardened. She stood and began to deliberately pinch the little bud, twisting it until, bruises began to form and tears of pain slipped down Romelle's cheeks. Maudi threw her head back and laughed before she leaned forward and ran her tongue over Romelle's cheek, lapping up the tears.
"Yum! Your tears are so delicious! But, let's get you into your bath now, before I cannot stop myself from having my way with you..." She yanked Romelle from Egla's grasp and shoved her backward into the bathtub. The Polluxian sputtered as she pulled herself upright, thankful that the water hid her flow of tears.
"You must be perfect tonight, Princess." Egla looked down her nose at Romelle's ladies-in-waiting and snapped her fingers. "Did you hear me? Make her perfect for our Prince."
The human women all rushed to their Princess and began washing her hair and skin. They took care to treat her gently, having witnessed many other instances like this one, each knowing she tried to paint herself as unbreakable, but it simply wasn't true. They could sense even Romelle was unsure of how much more she could withstand and that the only reason she hung on was for their sakes. These women would do anything they could to ease their monarch's pain, to ensure she knew she wasn't alone.
Watching the group for a moment, Maudi noticed the extra tenderness with which the ladies-in-waiting treated their Princess. Her eyes lit up as understanding dawned as to just how close they really were to breaking this human. She quickly exchanged a nefarious look with Egla before informing the captive Princess, "Our Prince grows tired of playing with you, little pet, and has commanded you be made ready for his bed."
"Yes, pretty human, Prince Lotor said you will beg him to take your maidenhead this very night, or he will have no choice but to give you to his men." Egla looked pointedly to the two guards watching at the door. She called out to them, "and if you are so favored, what will you do with her, gentlemen?"
One guard began to laugh loudly as the other spoke. "Oh, we'll pass her around and take turns fucking her. We don't have the patience of our Prince; none of us will wait until she's ready. If she's unwilling, so be it. She's only a human, it's not rape."
The first guard stopped laughing long enough to catch Romelle's eye. "And, know this, little human, if you don't make any attempts to please us, we'll just toss you into the Pit of Skulls and be done with it. We aren't benevolent like our great Prince."
And then she heard it - the sound of water splashing onto the rock floors as it sloshed over the sides of its vessel. Her stomach turned and she fought back tears. Water being carried in meant that it was her bath time, and that meant Lotor had, once again, sent for her.
Romelle had learned much about the forces of Doom since her capture - the first being there was a huge difference between a Drule citizen and a Doomian. The Doomians made up the majority of Zarkon's army. They were smaller in size and stature than the Drules, but remarkably strong. They were all bald, had pointy ears and empty yellow eyes, and their skin varied between differing shades of brown, grey and black. They were peasants, unimportant to their king and their kingdom, just a thing to be used up and tossed out when they no longer suited Zarkon's purpose... Sometimes, Doomians could be bribed, swayed even, but not the Drules.
The Drules were on a different level in the Doomite hierarchy - they were lesser royalty. And unlike the Doomians, they were all remarkably tall, some had hair, and they all had blue, purple or green skin with reptilian like eyes of varying colors. They were allowed to do as they pleased, as long as it pleased the King and his Court. And they enjoyed being cruel; they enjoyed inflicting pain, especially on anyone they saw as inferior... And they saw all other species as inferior.
The Drule soldiers that served as Prince Lotor's personal guardsmen leered at her as they opened the cell's door. Slaves carried in a tub full of tepid water, setting it down in the middle of the room. They stepped back, making way for two female Drules, who smiled haughtily at the four women cowering on the floor before one of them addressed Romelle.
"Our Prince doesn't want his pretty little prize unkempt. Come and let us scrub the smell of filth from your skin."
The speaker was known as Maudi - she was the taller of the two Drule women; she had dark gold eyes, lavender skin, and black hair that fell well below her waist. She also had a quick wit and sharp tongue, and nothing seemed to bring her more pleasure than eliciting human tears.
With a silent prayer, Romelle rose and walked toward the tub. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other female Drule, the one called Egla, as her slender blue fingers opened a box Romelle knew to be filled with scented soaps and oils; things Lotor demanded she be scrubbed with each time she was brought to him. Egla lifted a bottle to her nose, took in the scent, and smiled wickedly as she dipped her fingers into the oil before running her hand through her snow white hair.
Romelle's eyes moved up to the woman's face and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the twisted intent in the other's blood red eyes.
The Princess of Pollux now stood at the edge of the tub and despite all of her determination not to show it, she could feel herself start to shiver with fear. Quickly, she glanced back toward the other women in her group and tried to mask the trembling by rubbing her arms as if she were cold. No matter what form of torment they inflicted upon her, she must remain strong for the others. Closing her deep blue eyes momentarily, she let out a steadying breath before returning her attention to her oppressors.
Egla moved to stand behind the beautiful Princess. "Our mighty Prince says he wants us to take special care in your bath tonight... "
Romelle remained silent, knowing these two would do everything in their power to make her cry, to make her beg for mercy - and she refused to ask clemency for herself while her ladies-in-waiting suffered so. Besides, she had found early on, the more she responded, the more it excited these disgustingly cruel beings. She refused to acknowledge them, to give them that satisfaction.
Maudi laughed, the sound a sweet tinkling, so odd and out of place in the dank cell. "Pretty human," she reached out and ran her fingers down the length of one of Romelle's long blonde locks before she twisted her fist into the silken strands. She looked over at her cohort, "Touch her hair, Egla... See how silky it feels..."
The Polluxian Princess stiffened as she felt the other Drule step in close and rub her blue-skinned body against her back. Egla reached up and ran her fingers into the hair at the nape of Romelle's neck. "Very soft," she agreed before burying her nose into that same hair and breathing deeply. "And she still smells of her last bath."
Maudi tugged Romelle's hair to her nose and sniffed. "So she does."
The two Drules then began a harsh game of tug-of-war with the Polluxian's hair, jerking her one way, then the next, before they both began to laugh at the pain betrayed by Romelle's involuntary wince and reddening face.
"I suppose that's enough." Maudi said mockingly. "Her bath grows cold and these humans are so frail! Prince Lotor would be infuriated if she were to catch a cold."
Egla let out a deep, throaty chuckle, before whispering into Romelle's ear. "Indeed. You will need all of your strength if you want to survive Lotor's captivating love play."
Maudi laughed loudly and unexpectedly, startling all the other women except her dearest friend who smiled slyly. "Captivating! Oh, Egla, how clever of you!"
For just a moment, it seemed Romelle had been forgotten, but, of course, that would be too good to be true.
Suddenly, Egla shook Romelle. "Now, it's time for you to strip, pretty pet."
Romelle glanced quickly at Prince Lotor's personal guards who watched her lasciviously from the doorway. Casting her eyes downward, she quickly blinked away hot tears as she began untying the rope at her waist before tugging the frayed shift over her head and dropping it on the floor. Hoping to shield herself from the lewd looks, she hastened her steps toward the tub. But, before she could lower herself into the bathwater, Egla grabbed her arms and spun her naked form to face the leering men.
"Now, now, Princess... Why are you in such a hurry..." She started laughing as she reached around and cupped one of Romelle's full breasts. "Don't you want to show these two what they're missing?"
Maudi burst into giggles. "Yes, little human, you must learn to make these men lust after you... Someday, your life will depend on it."
Romelle jerked her head toward Maudi. Her lips parted, ready to ask what the Drule woman meant, but she caught herself and quickly clamped her mouth closed.
"Did you see that, Egla? I think our little pet almost spoke!"
"She did, didn't she? What did you want to say little human?"
Maudi moved near to Romelle; she leaned in so close their lips almost touched. "My lover asked you a question. It displeases me that you won't speak to us. And you know what happens when you refuse us satisfaction ..."
Romelle's eyes filled with fear, and Maudi smiled wickedly at the sight. A long purple finger reached out and traced Romelle's full pink lips, before she used it to trace a path down to the breast that Egla's azure hand still cupped. She ran the offending finger over the soft pink skin of Romelle's nipple.
"Don't you know?" Maudi's voice carried a bitter note. "Once Lotor tires of you, he'll throw you away just like a piece of trash."
"The only reason he even wants you is because you look just like his Princess Allura." Egla's words were laced with jealousy and venom.
"And the only reason he wants that silly piece of pink fluff is because she looks so much like his dead mother." Maudi watched Romelle intently as she spoke her next words.
"You are only a human. His protection of you is dependent on how good of a whore you become. If you learn to please our Prince, perhaps he will keep you in his harem." She shrugged. "If not he will either kill you or give you away as a gift."
"Please...stop!"
Maudi paused to look over her victim's shoulder. Until this point, the other human women had remained silent upon order of their monarch. Her dark gold eyes searched Romelle's face, feeling nothing but elation at her obvious disgrace. She met Romelle's eyes before turning her attention to the youngest member of the group of women now huddled together on the floor.
"She's quite pretty, this little one..."
"She is just a child," Romelle's voice was thick with unshed tears. "Please, I beg you, let her be."
"Why, Princess," Maudi began as she returned her attention to her captured prey. "Don't be so selfish! It's all right if your young friend would like to join us."
"No, she would not!"
Egla began to laugh, a low chuckle next to Romelle's ear. "Suddenly you are a feisty one..."
"And we are about to have so much fun," Maudi whispered the words against Romelle's lips before she returned to inflicting even more humiliation. This time, she fell to her knees and began to suckle at her victim's breast, licking her nipple until it hardened. She stood and began to deliberately pinch the little bud, twisting it until, bruises began to form and tears of pain slipped down Romelle's cheeks. Maudi threw her head back and laughed before she leaned forward and ran her tongue over Romelle's cheek, lapping up the tears.
"Yum! Your tears are so delicious! But, let's get you into your bath now, before I cannot stop myself from having my way with you..." She yanked Romelle from Egla's grasp and shoved her backward into the bathtub. The Polluxian sputtered as she pulled herself upright, thankful that the water hid her flow of tears.
"You must be perfect tonight, Princess." Egla looked down her nose at Romelle's ladies-in-waiting and snapped her fingers. "Did you hear me? Make her perfect for our Prince."
The human women all rushed to their Princess and began washing her hair and skin. They took care to treat her gently, having witnessed many other instances like this one, each knowing she tried to paint herself as unbreakable, but it simply wasn't true. They could sense even Romelle was unsure of how much more she could withstand and that the only reason she hung on was for their sakes. These women would do anything they could to ease their monarch's pain, to ensure she knew she wasn't alone.
Watching the group for a moment, Maudi noticed the extra tenderness with which the ladies-in-waiting treated their Princess. Her eyes lit up as understanding dawned as to just how close they really were to breaking this human. She quickly exchanged a nefarious look with Egla before informing the captive Princess, "Our Prince grows tired of playing with you, little pet, and has commanded you be made ready for his bed."
"Yes, pretty human, Prince Lotor said you will beg him to take your maidenhead this very night, or he will have no choice but to give you to his men." Egla looked pointedly to the two guards watching at the door. She called out to them, "and if you are so favored, what will you do with her, gentlemen?"
One guard began to laugh loudly as the other spoke. "Oh, we'll pass her around and take turns fucking her. We don't have the patience of our Prince; none of us will wait until she's ready. If she's unwilling, so be it. She's only a human, it's not rape."
The first guard stopped laughing long enough to catch Romelle's eye. "And, know this, little human, if you don't make any attempts to please us, we'll just toss you into the Pit of Skulls and be done with it. We aren't benevolent like our great Prince."
Hours later found Princess Romelle dressed in what barely passed for clothing. A blood red corset pushed her breasts high, the satiny material barely covering her nipples, a matching pair of panties and stiletto heels completed her outfit. Before she had been dressed, her body had been scrubbed and oiled with a sweet and heady scent; her hair washed and combed until it shone. Her beautiful face had been painted while her waist length hair had been left loose to fall down her back.
Once she had been groomed to Lotor's explicit direction, she had been escorted to the Prince of Doom's bedchamber by the same guardsmen who had leered and threatened her while she had been stripped bare of her clothing, and worse, what was left of her dignity.
One of the large Drule officers held her still while the other clamped a metal cuff around her ankle. She jerked her leg away from his grasp only to find the shackle was chained to the floor.
"You won't be going anywhere for some time, bitch."
Romelle glared down at the offender with her haughtiest stare. "Get away from me, you disgusting piece of filth."
Both Drules began to laugh whole heartedly at the captive woman's false bravado. The one who still knelt at her feet suddenly grinned at his comrade.
"Hold her still," he said as he wrapped one hand around her slim calf and slid the other up her inner thigh, stopping within a hairsbreadth of those silky red panties. "Soon, human, you will no longer be under the protection of our Prince..."
Romelle refused to move, to give these two heathens the satisfaction of knowing she was terrified. But her deep blue eyes betrayed her outer calm, and told the truth of her worsening dread. And they began laughing at her once more.
A sound from across the room brought the guard quickly to his feet and both turned to face their Prince. Who was, quite obviously, displeased.
"Exactly, what are the two of you doing?"
In unison, they fell to one knee and bowed their heads. The guard who had been holding Romelle still, spoke. "Oh great and mighty Prince, we were hoping to help the Princess see how lucky she is to have caught the eye of yourself, our most benevolent Commander."
Lotor studied the two for just a moment before he spoke. "I'm sure that's exactly what you were doing because I'm sure everyone knows exactly what would happen to them if I found that my new toy had been damaged before I even had the chance to play with her."
The second Drule spoke, "Yes, Majesty."
"The two of you will stand guard at my door until I dismiss you." The Prince of Doom eyed Princess Romelle for a moment. "You will make certain no one disturb me and my darling Princess for any reason short of the castle being under attack. Now, get out!"
As they scurried from the room, one of the guards stole a quick glance at the beautiful woman who stood glaring at Prince Lotor. 'She's even sexier when she's furious,' he thought with a surge of lust. She turned her glare upon him as the door began to close, and he returned it with a malevolent smile that let her know he anxiously awaited the day his Prince grew tired of her.
Lotor ignored Romelle as he crossed the room and poured himself a glass of wine. He sat down, his back to her, and he began to eat his evening meal. It smelled wonderful and her stomach let out a low rumble. Unlike most of his fellow Drules, Lotor hungered for foods that were found on planets inhabited by humans. Of course, Lotor was only half Drule himself; his mother had been a human, a Terran if she remembered correctly.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and wished for something warm to help cover her body.
"There is a chaise behind you, if you should wish to sit." When he received no reply, he took a deep breath and stood. He remained with his back to her as he spoke, knowing this small but very rude slight, angered her. "This doesn't need to be so difficult, your Highness."
Romelle watched as Lotor drained his glass before turning to face her. Her glare remained steady, making it clear she was having none of it.
The Prince of Doom quickly crossed the room to stand in front of his captive.
"Princess Romelle," he began, "I have been very patient with you, but my patience grows thin. As I've told you before, I have no intention of physically forcing you into my bed -there should be no need for that. My handsome appearance and charm have always been enough for any woman I've wanted." Lotor reached out and caressed her cheek, she jerked her head away. "I promise you, Romelle, you will be treated well. I will make you my mistress! You will have your own apartments; I would never force you to cohabitate with the lower courtesans in my harem. You will only be second to my future bride, your cousin, Princess Allura."
"Never."
Lotor sighed. It had been the same, night after night, for weeks now. He had tried everything he could think of - he had tried to reason with her, he had her beaten, he had even let his favorite concubines, Egla and Maudi, torment and threaten her. Nothing seemed to work.
Until tonight. Now, thanks to those beautiful Drule women, he had discovered that Princess Romelle did have a weakness.
"You have left me no choice, Princess."
At his tone, Romelle felt fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. He sounded resigned and yet elated, as if he were looking forward to her punishment. She prayed it wouldn't be any worse than the past few times she had refused him. It had been horrible, to be sure, but she had survived. She had found him to be quite twisted; he had watched with an undeniable thrill while she was beaten by Egla, all the while Maudi had pleasured him with her hands and mouth. She drew in a deep breath and tried to focus on her ladies-in-waiting. If they had any hope of escaping this place, she would have to endure.
Prince Lotor crossed the room and swung the door wide. "Bring her to me."
Romelle watched in growing horror as a bound and gagged Darla was carried into the room and tossed on the floor. The young girl's hazel eyes swept the room, at first passing by her Princess, but as realization dawned, Romelle found herself staring into the other's tear filled eyes. She watched in horror as Lotor jerked the girl off the floor.
The Prince of Doom slowed for just a moment ensuring he made eye contact with Romelle, whose eyes now filled with a growing despair. A smug smile crept across his handsome face before he winked at her and returned his attention to his new captive.
"What is your name?" He asked as he pulled the gag from her mouth.
Wild-eyed and shaking like a leaf, she stuttered. "D-D-Darla... "
Lotor reached out and grasped her chin in his hand, turning her head one way, then the next. "Not bad for a servant. For someone of such low birth, you are quite pretty. Has anyone ever told you that, Darla?"
Darla tried to peek around him at her monarch before shaking her head "no."
Lotor looked over his shoulder, following her gaze to Romelle. He stepped aside to ensure that the Polluxian Princess had a good view of the show.
The handsome Prince set about untying the young maid's hands, taking his time to carefully unwind the length of rope that had cut into her tender wrists. As he worked loose the final knot, he allowed the fastening to fall to the floor and began to rub at the marks now marring Darla's soft skin. When her breathing slowed and the tension began to leave her shoulders, Lotor smiled.
"Now," he spoke as he reached out behind her and grasped a hook suspended from a chain in the ceiling. "Truly, I do apologize for the pain you are about to endure, young Darla. But, my dear, I do promise that we will share immense pleasure when I ravage your body."
Darla's stomach twisted with fear as the gag was forced back into her mouth. Her knees weakened and for a moment she thought she might fall, but Lotor sensed her panic, and wrapped one arm around the girl's waist.
"Now, now," he swiftly cuffed her hands together with a set of shackles. "We don't want any bruises on your body that I do not have the pleasure of putting there myself."
As her doe-like eyes grew wide, Lotor began to laugh. He worked quickly to attach the shackles to the hook. Once she had been secured, Lotor stepped away from the girl and began to turn a nearby crank, resulting in Darla's arms being pulled high above her head. To no avail, she began to struggle against her bonds, but quickly found she had been hoisted up until just her toes touched the ground.
Returning to his pawn, Lotor slowly circled the young girl before once again meeting Romelle's midnight-blue glare.
"Lovely, isn't she?"
"Lotor, please..."
"What is it Princess? Do you not approve?"
Romelle met Darla's terror filled eyes and tried to give her a look of reassurance. But her stomach turned as she took in the girl's clothing; she was dressed in the same manner of all the other courtesans in Lotor's harem.
She couldn't let this happen. "No, I do not! Lotor, she's just a child!"
The Prince of Doom smiled wickedly as he fondled the girl's breasts. "She seems a woman to me. But looks can be deceiving... shall we have a closer look?" He pulled a dagger from his belt and used it to slowly cut off the girls clothing, leaving her body stripped bare and covered in small, bloody scratches. Silent sobs shook Darla's entire body, tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks, and the girl's eye were shut tightly.
Romelle could not bear one more moment of this child's maltreatment.
"Please, Lotor, please stop this!"
"But, my beautiful Princess," he met Romelle's eyes as he made his way around the girl's trembling body. He licked the blood from a deep scratch on her thigh. "She certainly looks to be a woman to me."
"Lotor, I beg of you... Please don't hurt her."
"Hurt her?" He began to laugh. "I have no intention of hurting her, Romelle. On the contrary I am going to use her to demonstrate to you what a generous lover I am! I will take her, here, over and over again, until you decide you want to take her place."
It was at this point that Darla could take no more; she moaned and her body went limp.
At the sight of the unconscious girl, tears began to flow freely down Romelle's cheeks. "You brute! You said you would never force a woman!"
"No," Lotor shook his head in disagreement. "I said I would not physically force you. You, my sweet, are royalty. She is nothing more than an elevated slave."
"Please, Prince Lotor," Romelle began, "I beg clemency for her; she is a child under my protection."
Shrugging off her plea, Lotor pulled the girl down and tossed her listless form onto his bed. Turning his back to Romelle, he began removing his clothing with slow and deliberate movements. As he started to slip his pants over his erection, he smiled with glee. He hadn't been this ready for a woman since he had last held Princess Allura in his arms.
He reached out and spread Darla's legs wide.
"No, please!" Romelle cried. "You win, Lotor. I will not fight you! Let her go!"
The Prince of Doom paused, looking back at her suspiciously. "You will give yourself to me freely? And you will remain with me - my mistress, my pet?"
She hung her head in defeat. "You have my word. If you will spare her and the rest of my ladies, I will do whatever you ask of me."
The Prince of Doom wore a look of smug triumph as he inched his pants back up. He turned to face his prize and gave her a fiendish smile as he pulled a key from his pocket and strode toward her.
"This pleases me. You will not regret this choice, Princess Romelle."
But, she already did.
Once she had been groomed to Lotor's explicit direction, she had been escorted to the Prince of Doom's bedchamber by the same guardsmen who had leered and threatened her while she had been stripped bare of her clothing, and worse, what was left of her dignity.
One of the large Drule officers held her still while the other clamped a metal cuff around her ankle. She jerked her leg away from his grasp only to find the shackle was chained to the floor.
"You won't be going anywhere for some time, bitch."
Romelle glared down at the offender with her haughtiest stare. "Get away from me, you disgusting piece of filth."
Both Drules began to laugh whole heartedly at the captive woman's false bravado. The one who still knelt at her feet suddenly grinned at his comrade.
"Hold her still," he said as he wrapped one hand around her slim calf and slid the other up her inner thigh, stopping within a hairsbreadth of those silky red panties. "Soon, human, you will no longer be under the protection of our Prince..."
Romelle refused to move, to give these two heathens the satisfaction of knowing she was terrified. But her deep blue eyes betrayed her outer calm, and told the truth of her worsening dread. And they began laughing at her once more.
A sound from across the room brought the guard quickly to his feet and both turned to face their Prince. Who was, quite obviously, displeased.
"Exactly, what are the two of you doing?"
In unison, they fell to one knee and bowed their heads. The guard who had been holding Romelle still, spoke. "Oh great and mighty Prince, we were hoping to help the Princess see how lucky she is to have caught the eye of yourself, our most benevolent Commander."
Lotor studied the two for just a moment before he spoke. "I'm sure that's exactly what you were doing because I'm sure everyone knows exactly what would happen to them if I found that my new toy had been damaged before I even had the chance to play with her."
The second Drule spoke, "Yes, Majesty."
"The two of you will stand guard at my door until I dismiss you." The Prince of Doom eyed Princess Romelle for a moment. "You will make certain no one disturb me and my darling Princess for any reason short of the castle being under attack. Now, get out!"
As they scurried from the room, one of the guards stole a quick glance at the beautiful woman who stood glaring at Prince Lotor. 'She's even sexier when she's furious,' he thought with a surge of lust. She turned her glare upon him as the door began to close, and he returned it with a malevolent smile that let her know he anxiously awaited the day his Prince grew tired of her.
Lotor ignored Romelle as he crossed the room and poured himself a glass of wine. He sat down, his back to her, and he began to eat his evening meal. It smelled wonderful and her stomach let out a low rumble. Unlike most of his fellow Drules, Lotor hungered for foods that were found on planets inhabited by humans. Of course, Lotor was only half Drule himself; his mother had been a human, a Terran if she remembered correctly.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and wished for something warm to help cover her body.
"There is a chaise behind you, if you should wish to sit." When he received no reply, he took a deep breath and stood. He remained with his back to her as he spoke, knowing this small but very rude slight, angered her. "This doesn't need to be so difficult, your Highness."
Romelle watched as Lotor drained his glass before turning to face her. Her glare remained steady, making it clear she was having none of it.
The Prince of Doom quickly crossed the room to stand in front of his captive.
"Princess Romelle," he began, "I have been very patient with you, but my patience grows thin. As I've told you before, I have no intention of physically forcing you into my bed -there should be no need for that. My handsome appearance and charm have always been enough for any woman I've wanted." Lotor reached out and caressed her cheek, she jerked her head away. "I promise you, Romelle, you will be treated well. I will make you my mistress! You will have your own apartments; I would never force you to cohabitate with the lower courtesans in my harem. You will only be second to my future bride, your cousin, Princess Allura."
"Never."
Lotor sighed. It had been the same, night after night, for weeks now. He had tried everything he could think of - he had tried to reason with her, he had her beaten, he had even let his favorite concubines, Egla and Maudi, torment and threaten her. Nothing seemed to work.
Until tonight. Now, thanks to those beautiful Drule women, he had discovered that Princess Romelle did have a weakness.
"You have left me no choice, Princess."
At his tone, Romelle felt fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. He sounded resigned and yet elated, as if he were looking forward to her punishment. She prayed it wouldn't be any worse than the past few times she had refused him. It had been horrible, to be sure, but she had survived. She had found him to be quite twisted; he had watched with an undeniable thrill while she was beaten by Egla, all the while Maudi had pleasured him with her hands and mouth. She drew in a deep breath and tried to focus on her ladies-in-waiting. If they had any hope of escaping this place, she would have to endure.
Prince Lotor crossed the room and swung the door wide. "Bring her to me."
Romelle watched in growing horror as a bound and gagged Darla was carried into the room and tossed on the floor. The young girl's hazel eyes swept the room, at first passing by her Princess, but as realization dawned, Romelle found herself staring into the other's tear filled eyes. She watched in horror as Lotor jerked the girl off the floor.
The Prince of Doom slowed for just a moment ensuring he made eye contact with Romelle, whose eyes now filled with a growing despair. A smug smile crept across his handsome face before he winked at her and returned his attention to his new captive.
"What is your name?" He asked as he pulled the gag from her mouth.
Wild-eyed and shaking like a leaf, she stuttered. "D-D-Darla... "
Lotor reached out and grasped her chin in his hand, turning her head one way, then the next. "Not bad for a servant. For someone of such low birth, you are quite pretty. Has anyone ever told you that, Darla?"
Darla tried to peek around him at her monarch before shaking her head "no."
Lotor looked over his shoulder, following her gaze to Romelle. He stepped aside to ensure that the Polluxian Princess had a good view of the show.
The handsome Prince set about untying the young maid's hands, taking his time to carefully unwind the length of rope that had cut into her tender wrists. As he worked loose the final knot, he allowed the fastening to fall to the floor and began to rub at the marks now marring Darla's soft skin. When her breathing slowed and the tension began to leave her shoulders, Lotor smiled.
"Now," he spoke as he reached out behind her and grasped a hook suspended from a chain in the ceiling. "Truly, I do apologize for the pain you are about to endure, young Darla. But, my dear, I do promise that we will share immense pleasure when I ravage your body."
Darla's stomach twisted with fear as the gag was forced back into her mouth. Her knees weakened and for a moment she thought she might fall, but Lotor sensed her panic, and wrapped one arm around the girl's waist.
"Now, now," he swiftly cuffed her hands together with a set of shackles. "We don't want any bruises on your body that I do not have the pleasure of putting there myself."
As her doe-like eyes grew wide, Lotor began to laugh. He worked quickly to attach the shackles to the hook. Once she had been secured, Lotor stepped away from the girl and began to turn a nearby crank, resulting in Darla's arms being pulled high above her head. To no avail, she began to struggle against her bonds, but quickly found she had been hoisted up until just her toes touched the ground.
Returning to his pawn, Lotor slowly circled the young girl before once again meeting Romelle's midnight-blue glare.
"Lovely, isn't she?"
"Lotor, please..."
"What is it Princess? Do you not approve?"
Romelle met Darla's terror filled eyes and tried to give her a look of reassurance. But her stomach turned as she took in the girl's clothing; she was dressed in the same manner of all the other courtesans in Lotor's harem.
She couldn't let this happen. "No, I do not! Lotor, she's just a child!"
The Prince of Doom smiled wickedly as he fondled the girl's breasts. "She seems a woman to me. But looks can be deceiving... shall we have a closer look?" He pulled a dagger from his belt and used it to slowly cut off the girls clothing, leaving her body stripped bare and covered in small, bloody scratches. Silent sobs shook Darla's entire body, tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks, and the girl's eye were shut tightly.
Romelle could not bear one more moment of this child's maltreatment.
"Please, Lotor, please stop this!"
"But, my beautiful Princess," he met Romelle's eyes as he made his way around the girl's trembling body. He licked the blood from a deep scratch on her thigh. "She certainly looks to be a woman to me."
"Lotor, I beg of you... Please don't hurt her."
"Hurt her?" He began to laugh. "I have no intention of hurting her, Romelle. On the contrary I am going to use her to demonstrate to you what a generous lover I am! I will take her, here, over and over again, until you decide you want to take her place."
It was at this point that Darla could take no more; she moaned and her body went limp.
At the sight of the unconscious girl, tears began to flow freely down Romelle's cheeks. "You brute! You said you would never force a woman!"
"No," Lotor shook his head in disagreement. "I said I would not physically force you. You, my sweet, are royalty. She is nothing more than an elevated slave."
"Please, Prince Lotor," Romelle began, "I beg clemency for her; she is a child under my protection."
Shrugging off her plea, Lotor pulled the girl down and tossed her listless form onto his bed. Turning his back to Romelle, he began removing his clothing with slow and deliberate movements. As he started to slip his pants over his erection, he smiled with glee. He hadn't been this ready for a woman since he had last held Princess Allura in his arms.
He reached out and spread Darla's legs wide.
"No, please!" Romelle cried. "You win, Lotor. I will not fight you! Let her go!"
The Prince of Doom paused, looking back at her suspiciously. "You will give yourself to me freely? And you will remain with me - my mistress, my pet?"
She hung her head in defeat. "You have my word. If you will spare her and the rest of my ladies, I will do whatever you ask of me."
The Prince of Doom wore a look of smug triumph as he inched his pants back up. He turned to face his prize and gave her a fiendish smile as he pulled a key from his pocket and strode toward her.
"This pleases me. You will not regret this choice, Princess Romelle."
But, she already did.
Witch Hagar watched with mounting pleasure as the last bit of goopy blue liquid drained out of the cylinder. The human lifted his head, looking around the laboratory with confusion. Hagar motioned to her assistant who immediately went to work opening the glass door and helping Sven to step out of the contraption.
"How are you feeling, mighty warrior?" Hagar watched him carefully. She was sure that most of his memories had been erased, but she had to test him to be absolutely certain. And this would be the best time, his body still weak from the extended stay in a partially frozen state.
Sven shook his head as if to clear away the cobwebs. "I am unsure," he began, his voice still heavily accented by his Norwegian ancestry. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The old witch studied the young man for a moment with a growing feeling of optimism. Certainly his memory must be wiped clean. After all, if he had remembered her, she was sure that he wouldn't be able to hide it!
Months had past since the once-member of the Voltron Force, with the help of his fellow space explorers, had been delivering food and medical supplies to the people of Arus. She had used her evil cat Kova to lure one of the young men away from the crowds - any one of them would have been sufficient, but the nosy one, Lance, had shown up and she'd been able to trap him in a net made from her dark magic... Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Sven had shown up and freed Lance, ordering him to run for help...but help hadn't come in time.
Hagar had used her wicked ways to replicate herself, surrounding Sven with what seemed to be dozens of evil witches, before blinding him. But, she had to admit, she had been shocked when he had been able to use his own psychic senses to figure out which witch was which... He had lashed out, causing her to reel in her shadow selves to concentrate on her final blows - she struck him with her witch's staff and ripped through his torso, leaving him bleeding out in the dirt.
She had hoped that with Voltron short one pilot, it would be easy for the Forces of Doom to finally invade and conquer the mighty robot lions and eradicate all hope the Galaxy Alliance had left.
As foul luck would have it, that damned little girl, Princess Allura, had stepped in and started piloting the Blue Lion and destroyed that scheme. But she had a back up plan...the one she was executing now.
Unbeknownst to anyone but herself, she had infected the handsome young man with a special poisonous potion that she had specially designed herself; Sven appeared to have met his end and his friends had been shattered at his loss. Witch Hagar had hidden herself, waiting patiently for her chance to retrieve his body. Once the Voltron Force and the people of Arus had their opportunity to say good-bye to the young space explorer, his body had been loaded onto a ship with the intention of returning him to his home planet of Terra for burial.
As soon as the ship was far enough away, the witch had secretly boarded in the night and stolen the body.
Which brought things to the here and now. After months in a specially designed tank, filled with a special fluid that kept his body in a semi-frozen state so that it could heal - as well as giving her time to use her vile magic to erase his memories - Sven had been brought back to life. All that was left was to test him. If he passed inspection, then her plan would continue and they would fill his heart and mind with hatred for his once-friends before turning him into a robeast and sending him to slaughter those unsuspecting Voltron pilots, once and for all.
"You don't remember me?" Hagar made sure to use her gentlest tone, one that made it seem she was genuinely concerned.
Sven leaned against the witch's assistant, still unable to completely support his own weight. He closed his dark blue eyes and tried to remember, but his mind seemed to be blank; as if a never ending blackness had painted itself over his life. He shook his head slowly before opening his eyes and returning to the moment.
"I don't even remember myself."
Witch Hagar's heart leapt with wicked joy and she quickly turned away to ensure that any sign of her delight was hidden. "Oh my," she began, "I was hoping that after healing your body, you would be able to tell us who attacked you."
"I cannot. I don't even remember my name."
She turned back to him. "Ryou. Your name is Ryou. You are one of the most decorated and honored warriors in Prince Lotor's personal guard."
"Prince Lotor?" Sven considered this. "I'm sorry but I do not know this man."
"Your King?" Hagar asked, "do you remember your King, Zarkon?"
He shook his head, a distressed look growing across his handsome features.
"Do you remember me, child?" Hagar stepped in close and laid a hand against his arm. "I am Witch Hagar, the Royal Advisor to both our King and Prince, as well as High Priestess for the Profane Order of the Unholy."
Sven met her eyes and, with a growing desperation, said, "I do not."
She patted his arm as she moved away. "I see. Perhaps your memories will return with time. If they do not, perhaps I can find a spell, or an elixir, to help restore them."
Sven's face was awash with worry. He had to regain his memories, and yet something about this woman and her offer to magically restore his mind left him more than uneasy. "And until then?"
The old witch let out a deep sigh as she turned to look at him. "I suppose we start by letting our Prince know that his favorite warrior is finally awake."
"How are you feeling, mighty warrior?" Hagar watched him carefully. She was sure that most of his memories had been erased, but she had to test him to be absolutely certain. And this would be the best time, his body still weak from the extended stay in a partially frozen state.
Sven shook his head as if to clear away the cobwebs. "I am unsure," he began, his voice still heavily accented by his Norwegian ancestry. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The old witch studied the young man for a moment with a growing feeling of optimism. Certainly his memory must be wiped clean. After all, if he had remembered her, she was sure that he wouldn't be able to hide it!
Months had past since the once-member of the Voltron Force, with the help of his fellow space explorers, had been delivering food and medical supplies to the people of Arus. She had used her evil cat Kova to lure one of the young men away from the crowds - any one of them would have been sufficient, but the nosy one, Lance, had shown up and she'd been able to trap him in a net made from her dark magic... Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Sven had shown up and freed Lance, ordering him to run for help...but help hadn't come in time.
Hagar had used her wicked ways to replicate herself, surrounding Sven with what seemed to be dozens of evil witches, before blinding him. But, she had to admit, she had been shocked when he had been able to use his own psychic senses to figure out which witch was which... He had lashed out, causing her to reel in her shadow selves to concentrate on her final blows - she struck him with her witch's staff and ripped through his torso, leaving him bleeding out in the dirt.
She had hoped that with Voltron short one pilot, it would be easy for the Forces of Doom to finally invade and conquer the mighty robot lions and eradicate all hope the Galaxy Alliance had left.
As foul luck would have it, that damned little girl, Princess Allura, had stepped in and started piloting the Blue Lion and destroyed that scheme. But she had a back up plan...the one she was executing now.
Unbeknownst to anyone but herself, she had infected the handsome young man with a special poisonous potion that she had specially designed herself; Sven appeared to have met his end and his friends had been shattered at his loss. Witch Hagar had hidden herself, waiting patiently for her chance to retrieve his body. Once the Voltron Force and the people of Arus had their opportunity to say good-bye to the young space explorer, his body had been loaded onto a ship with the intention of returning him to his home planet of Terra for burial.
As soon as the ship was far enough away, the witch had secretly boarded in the night and stolen the body.
Which brought things to the here and now. After months in a specially designed tank, filled with a special fluid that kept his body in a semi-frozen state so that it could heal - as well as giving her time to use her vile magic to erase his memories - Sven had been brought back to life. All that was left was to test him. If he passed inspection, then her plan would continue and they would fill his heart and mind with hatred for his once-friends before turning him into a robeast and sending him to slaughter those unsuspecting Voltron pilots, once and for all.
"You don't remember me?" Hagar made sure to use her gentlest tone, one that made it seem she was genuinely concerned.
Sven leaned against the witch's assistant, still unable to completely support his own weight. He closed his dark blue eyes and tried to remember, but his mind seemed to be blank; as if a never ending blackness had painted itself over his life. He shook his head slowly before opening his eyes and returning to the moment.
"I don't even remember myself."
Witch Hagar's heart leapt with wicked joy and she quickly turned away to ensure that any sign of her delight was hidden. "Oh my," she began, "I was hoping that after healing your body, you would be able to tell us who attacked you."
"I cannot. I don't even remember my name."
She turned back to him. "Ryou. Your name is Ryou. You are one of the most decorated and honored warriors in Prince Lotor's personal guard."
"Prince Lotor?" Sven considered this. "I'm sorry but I do not know this man."
"Your King?" Hagar asked, "do you remember your King, Zarkon?"
He shook his head, a distressed look growing across his handsome features.
"Do you remember me, child?" Hagar stepped in close and laid a hand against his arm. "I am Witch Hagar, the Royal Advisor to both our King and Prince, as well as High Priestess for the Profane Order of the Unholy."
Sven met her eyes and, with a growing desperation, said, "I do not."
She patted his arm as she moved away. "I see. Perhaps your memories will return with time. If they do not, perhaps I can find a spell, or an elixir, to help restore them."
Sven's face was awash with worry. He had to regain his memories, and yet something about this woman and her offer to magically restore his mind left him more than uneasy. "And until then?"
The old witch let out a deep sigh as she turned to look at him. "I suppose we start by letting our Prince know that his favorite warrior is finally awake."
When the knock sounded at his door, Prince Lotor's blood ran ice cold with fury. He had left strict orders that he not be disturbed for anything short of an attack on the castle itself and those imbeciles couldn't even get that right! Finally, after weeks, he had found a way to force Princess Romelle into surrender - into his bed. Now, just as he was about to rip the clothes from her body and ravish her, someone dared defy him...
He stood perfectly still and waited. When the second knock came, he flew into a rage. He grabbed his sword from its sheath and strode to the door and flung it wide as he brought his razor-sharp blade up in preparation of slashing the offender to pieces.
"Put that thing down. You could put someone's eye out."
"Hagar! I said I was not to be disturbed!"
The old woman scanned the room quickly as she shoved her way past him. Her eyes made their way from the bound and gagged, naked girl on the bed to the still chained and scantily clad Romelle. She made her way to stand before the Polluxian Princess. She turned to face Lotor and chuckled at seeing the bulge in the front of his breeches. "I can see that you are..."
Lotor slammed the door closed before stalking across the room to tower over the gnarled witch. He poked her in the chest with his sword and roared. "Get out before I kill you for ruining our fun!"
With a wave of her hand, she used her magic to disarm the Prince, his sword clattering as it hit the stone floor.
The two glared at one another before the witch sighed and did her best to look contrite.
"I can see you were having fun playing with your new pet, My Most Gracious Master. You must realize that for me to intrude, it is a matter of utmost importance."
Lotor looked somewhat appeased. He glanced at Romelle, hoping that the exchange would impress upon her just how highly he was regarded. "So what is it? Go on..."
"Sire, I do believe we should speak in private."
"We are in private, Hagar. And the Princess Romelle has given me her word that she will be freely joining with me and taking her place in court as my mistress. You may speak in front of her."
For just a moment, she considered arguing with the young Prince, but then she decided the human female was no real threat. After all, like most of his past conquests, it wouldn't take Lotor long to tire of her and toss her to the soldiers. And they would tear her to pieces, literally. She shrugged. The girl would be dead by the end of the week. "Our friend is awake and he's ready to meet with you."
Lotor's eyes widened with a growing excitement. "And his memory?"
Hagar cackled. "You doubt my skills, young Prince?"
With another sly look at Romelle, Lotor puffed out his chest in a need to prove his authority in front of his conquest-to-be. "Do not try my patience, Hagar! Just ask my lover, Romelle, what happens when I tire of a woman's games."
Romelle had been doing her best to remain silent and still, a skill she had learned in her own court when just a child. The things that one heard when no one thought they were listening could often make all the difference in the world. And this seemed a conversation that could very well be of the greatest value. With Lotor drawing the witch's attention to her, Romelle lowered her head as if in deference, hoping the act would fool the old hag into thinking it was safe to continue speaking openly.
Witch Hagar took a moment to study the young woman's face. Romelle had tried to hide the burning fury in her eyes, but the older woman had seen it anyway. She quickly ducked her head and pretended to cough in order to cover a chuckle. Lotor was so much like his father, believing he could tame these human females. But, Hagar knew different - she knew how difficult it was to break their spirits. Many years before, she had done everything in her power to rid herself of Lotor's human mother, but the damn woman had proved to be a worthy foe. Eventually, Hagar was victorious, but that was a story for another time...
"Of course not, My Prince," she finally replied. "I only meant to lighten your mood."
"Tell me that Sven's mind has been wiped clean and I will be elated."
The witch smiled. "Indeed it has, Prince Lotor. As far as I can tell, he remembers nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not even his own name..."
"Then we must proceed immediately," Lotor stated as he began to re-dress.
"Of course, as you command, Sire," Hagar spoke as she studied the striking resemblance that Romelle bore to the Princess Allura. "I do believe we should try one last test before we begin the process of turning him into a robeast, My Prince."
He stood perfectly still and waited. When the second knock came, he flew into a rage. He grabbed his sword from its sheath and strode to the door and flung it wide as he brought his razor-sharp blade up in preparation of slashing the offender to pieces.
"Put that thing down. You could put someone's eye out."
"Hagar! I said I was not to be disturbed!"
The old woman scanned the room quickly as she shoved her way past him. Her eyes made their way from the bound and gagged, naked girl on the bed to the still chained and scantily clad Romelle. She made her way to stand before the Polluxian Princess. She turned to face Lotor and chuckled at seeing the bulge in the front of his breeches. "I can see that you are..."
Lotor slammed the door closed before stalking across the room to tower over the gnarled witch. He poked her in the chest with his sword and roared. "Get out before I kill you for ruining our fun!"
With a wave of her hand, she used her magic to disarm the Prince, his sword clattering as it hit the stone floor.
The two glared at one another before the witch sighed and did her best to look contrite.
"I can see you were having fun playing with your new pet, My Most Gracious Master. You must realize that for me to intrude, it is a matter of utmost importance."
Lotor looked somewhat appeased. He glanced at Romelle, hoping that the exchange would impress upon her just how highly he was regarded. "So what is it? Go on..."
"Sire, I do believe we should speak in private."
"We are in private, Hagar. And the Princess Romelle has given me her word that she will be freely joining with me and taking her place in court as my mistress. You may speak in front of her."
For just a moment, she considered arguing with the young Prince, but then she decided the human female was no real threat. After all, like most of his past conquests, it wouldn't take Lotor long to tire of her and toss her to the soldiers. And they would tear her to pieces, literally. She shrugged. The girl would be dead by the end of the week. "Our friend is awake and he's ready to meet with you."
Lotor's eyes widened with a growing excitement. "And his memory?"
Hagar cackled. "You doubt my skills, young Prince?"
With another sly look at Romelle, Lotor puffed out his chest in a need to prove his authority in front of his conquest-to-be. "Do not try my patience, Hagar! Just ask my lover, Romelle, what happens when I tire of a woman's games."
Romelle had been doing her best to remain silent and still, a skill she had learned in her own court when just a child. The things that one heard when no one thought they were listening could often make all the difference in the world. And this seemed a conversation that could very well be of the greatest value. With Lotor drawing the witch's attention to her, Romelle lowered her head as if in deference, hoping the act would fool the old hag into thinking it was safe to continue speaking openly.
Witch Hagar took a moment to study the young woman's face. Romelle had tried to hide the burning fury in her eyes, but the older woman had seen it anyway. She quickly ducked her head and pretended to cough in order to cover a chuckle. Lotor was so much like his father, believing he could tame these human females. But, Hagar knew different - she knew how difficult it was to break their spirits. Many years before, she had done everything in her power to rid herself of Lotor's human mother, but the damn woman had proved to be a worthy foe. Eventually, Hagar was victorious, but that was a story for another time...
"Of course not, My Prince," she finally replied. "I only meant to lighten your mood."
"Tell me that Sven's mind has been wiped clean and I will be elated."
The witch smiled. "Indeed it has, Prince Lotor. As far as I can tell, he remembers nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Not even his own name..."
"Then we must proceed immediately," Lotor stated as he began to re-dress.
"Of course, as you command, Sire," Hagar spoke as she studied the striking resemblance that Romelle bore to the Princess Allura. "I do believe we should try one last test before we begin the process of turning him into a robeast, My Prince."
Within a short period of time after Lotor and Hagar had left to do their plotting, Romelle and Darla had been returned to their cell deep in the dungeon. But, things had been different this time... the cell was empty, the other two women gone.
She had demanded to know what had happened; where her two other ladies-in-waiting had been taken and why. She used her most commanding and regal tone in an attempt to intimidate the Doomian soldiers, but they had remained unimpressed. The only response she had been given was a quick shrug with a detached, "Prince Lotor's orders. Ask him."
Frustration, exhaustion, fear...despair...they filled her mind, her body...her very soul until there was no longer room for hope. Still clutching at the metal bars that separated her from her indifferent captors, Romelle sank to her knees and let out a blood-curdling scream.
"Princess!" Darla cried as she rushed to her monarch, pulling her back onto her feet and away from the door. "I'm so sorry, Princess."
"Child...none of this is your fault..."
"But it is, Your Majesty," Darla hung her head, and Romelle had to strain to hear her quiet words.
"When the guards came they took us all...we were all..." a small sob caught in the girl's throat. "Maudi, Egla - they did worse things to the others than they did to you."
Listening, Romelle felt as if the very air had been sucked out of the room and for a brief moment she thought she may faint. But then Darla continued.
"You told us not to draw their attention, Highness, but I didn't listen! I was only trying to help, but I made things so much worse! If only I had remained silent--"
Princess Romelle reached out and took the girl into her arms, stroking Darla's hair in an attempt to soothe her aching heart. "Hush. You did nothing wrong." She spoke as she gathered the child in as close as possible, resting her cheek against the top of the girl's head. "You spoke up when you saw an injustice - what you did was brave!"
"But..."
"No but," Romelle insisted. "What has happened is not your fault. Prince Lotor and these Drules are a cruel lot, their actions are depraved and deplorable. They are monstrous, Darla. They have waged war against innocent peoples; they have enslaved planet after planet! And the way we have been treated..." She pulled the girl away and met her eyes. "Darla, you must know that when someone touches you against your will, they are abusing you, and it is never acceptable. It is one of the most vile of wrongdoings..."
Darla nodded and Romelle pulled her into an even tighter hug. "We must try to rest. I overheard Lotor and his witch talking and I have a feeling we are going to need our strength."
"What were they saying?" The girl's voice quivered with fear.
Romelle released the girl, and hurried to the door and listened for a moment, ensuring that no guards were nearby. She moved back to where Darla stood and motioned for them to sit. Once settled onto the sleeping mat they shared, Romelle covered them with a blanket, then leaned in close and began to whisper.
"I heard them talking about another prisoner...I do not know him, but I know who he is - and that gives me hope."
"Who is he?"
"He was a member of the Voltron Force, the pilot who was thought killed by Witch Hagar. Do you remember when my cousin, Princess Allura visited me?" Romelle studied the girl for a moment and at her nod, she continued. "There was a pilot who flew the Blue Lion before my cousin - he was one of the original five space explorers that the Galaxy Alliance sent to bring back Voltron. His name is Sven."
"I have heard the tale, Highness, and he did die."
Romelle shook her head. "Apparently not. Somehow he is still alive, and Hagar has done something to him. Maybe a spell or a potion...I don't know, but she has repressed his memories."
"What does that mean for us?"
"It means, memory or no, there is a member of the Voltron Force right here in Castle Doom, and if we can find a way to communicate with him, maybe we can trigger something to help him remember who he really is..." Romelle hoped her voice didn't give away her uncertainty. "It means we may have just found a way off this wretched planet."
She had demanded to know what had happened; where her two other ladies-in-waiting had been taken and why. She used her most commanding and regal tone in an attempt to intimidate the Doomian soldiers, but they had remained unimpressed. The only response she had been given was a quick shrug with a detached, "Prince Lotor's orders. Ask him."
Frustration, exhaustion, fear...despair...they filled her mind, her body...her very soul until there was no longer room for hope. Still clutching at the metal bars that separated her from her indifferent captors, Romelle sank to her knees and let out a blood-curdling scream.
"Princess!" Darla cried as she rushed to her monarch, pulling her back onto her feet and away from the door. "I'm so sorry, Princess."
"Child...none of this is your fault..."
"But it is, Your Majesty," Darla hung her head, and Romelle had to strain to hear her quiet words.
"When the guards came they took us all...we were all..." a small sob caught in the girl's throat. "Maudi, Egla - they did worse things to the others than they did to you."
Listening, Romelle felt as if the very air had been sucked out of the room and for a brief moment she thought she may faint. But then Darla continued.
"You told us not to draw their attention, Highness, but I didn't listen! I was only trying to help, but I made things so much worse! If only I had remained silent--"
Princess Romelle reached out and took the girl into her arms, stroking Darla's hair in an attempt to soothe her aching heart. "Hush. You did nothing wrong." She spoke as she gathered the child in as close as possible, resting her cheek against the top of the girl's head. "You spoke up when you saw an injustice - what you did was brave!"
"But..."
"No but," Romelle insisted. "What has happened is not your fault. Prince Lotor and these Drules are a cruel lot, their actions are depraved and deplorable. They are monstrous, Darla. They have waged war against innocent peoples; they have enslaved planet after planet! And the way we have been treated..." She pulled the girl away and met her eyes. "Darla, you must know that when someone touches you against your will, they are abusing you, and it is never acceptable. It is one of the most vile of wrongdoings..."
Darla nodded and Romelle pulled her into an even tighter hug. "We must try to rest. I overheard Lotor and his witch talking and I have a feeling we are going to need our strength."
"What were they saying?" The girl's voice quivered with fear.
Romelle released the girl, and hurried to the door and listened for a moment, ensuring that no guards were nearby. She moved back to where Darla stood and motioned for them to sit. Once settled onto the sleeping mat they shared, Romelle covered them with a blanket, then leaned in close and began to whisper.
"I heard them talking about another prisoner...I do not know him, but I know who he is - and that gives me hope."
"Who is he?"
"He was a member of the Voltron Force, the pilot who was thought killed by Witch Hagar. Do you remember when my cousin, Princess Allura visited me?" Romelle studied the girl for a moment and at her nod, she continued. "There was a pilot who flew the Blue Lion before my cousin - he was one of the original five space explorers that the Galaxy Alliance sent to bring back Voltron. His name is Sven."
"I have heard the tale, Highness, and he did die."
Romelle shook her head. "Apparently not. Somehow he is still alive, and Hagar has done something to him. Maybe a spell or a potion...I don't know, but she has repressed his memories."
"What does that mean for us?"
"It means, memory or no, there is a member of the Voltron Force right here in Castle Doom, and if we can find a way to communicate with him, maybe we can trigger something to help him remember who he really is..." Romelle hoped her voice didn't give away her uncertainty. "It means we may have just found a way off this wretched planet."
Sven considered his situation as he looked around what he had been told was his apartment. He now stood with his back to a roaring fire whose flames danced cheerfully in the hearth. His mood certainly did not match the fire's good cheer but he was thankful it had begun to chase the biting chill from the room.
Physically, he still felt incredibly weak. Hagar had explained it may take a few days before he regained his strength and the icy feel in his bones faded; an unfortunate side effect of being frozen for months while his body healed. He understood and would be patient; only a few hours before, he couldn't even stand on his own! His body would improve, but his mind... He couldn't even remember his own name! He felt lost, even afraid. He didn't know what to do, or think, so for now, he would simply observe.
He watched as stewards cleared the table of what remained of his evening meal. The food had been hot, and surprisingly quite delicious, even if he had no idea what it was he had been eating. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the unopened bottle of wine that remained on the now clean table. A glass of wine would surely go far to warm his insides, and help him sleep tonight, but something deep down in his gut warned him against it. He found that, although he couldn't remember anything per se, he knew things were not what they seemed and that he couldn't afford to let his guard down.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rapping sound. Crossing the room, he paused to collect himself as best he could before he opened the door.
"Ryou..." Witch Hagar stepped to the side and motioned to Lotor, "I've brought our Prince."
"Highness," Sven lowered his head in unfelt deference before stepping aside to grant his visitors access.
"You are looking much better." Lotor began, unsure of how to proceed. This man was one of his greatest enemies! Could Hagar truly have erased his memories? How sure could he, the Prince of Doom, be that this once-member of the Voltron Force now believed himself to be one of Doom's greatest warriors? Hagar had warned him not to betray his uncertainty, but he was finding that much harder to do than not.
"Thank you, Sire."
A slightly uncomfortable silence filled the room as the two men sized one another up. To stop the mounting tension, Hagar crossed the room and lifted the unopened wine. "Ryou... was the wine not to your liking? Our great Prince had his personal steward pick it out himself."
Sven's eyes met Lotor's dissecting gaze for a brief moment before the former lowered his head once more.
"Please, my Prince, know that your gift is much appreciated. I am honored by your generosity. I simply felt it best not to partake while I am recovering from my injuries." This was both truth and lie.
"Of course, my good man." Lotor clasped Sven on the shoulder. "The sooner you are recovered, the sooner we can return to your training and get you back in the battle!"
"And we can begin the special treatments we were about to start right before you were injured," the witch added.
"Treatments?" Sven looked to Hagar, clearly concerned.
"Why yes, right before you were injured, you had agreed to treatments that would enhance your physical strength as well as your skills on the battlefield."
Lotor took his cue. "You are one of my greatest warriors, Ryou, and have always done anything to advance our cause."
Sven looked a bit uncertain, but something about this rang true. He knew he would fight to the death for something he believed in. He just wasn't sure he believed in these two.
"Well," Hagar said, "I think young Ryou must be overwhelmed by today's events. Perhaps, first thing in the morning, one of the guards could show him around the castle, maybe jog his memory a bit? Would that be acceptable, my Prince?"
Lotor nodded his assent. This was the part that he and Hagar had worked out in detail just moments before they had knocked on Sven's door. "But a guard?! I'll have no such thing!" Lotor's voice rang out with disapproval. "Ryou, we have fought side by side in many battles. You are a great warrior, and I have grown to call you friend. Tomorrow, I will personally escort you around the castle and it's grounds. Perhaps, it will trigger some memories."
"If it pleases you, I would like to come along," Hagar spoke. "I may be able to assist you in your recollections."
Sven looked from the Witch to the Prince and back again- it certainly did seem they meant him no harm and truly wanted to help. But there was that feeling of distrust that just wouldn't fade away...
Slowly, he nodded his head.
"I would be grateful for any help either of you could offer."
Sensing Sven's hesitancy, Lotor gave Hagar a meaningful look before he said, "We will take our leave and let you rest. If you need anything at all, just ask. I will leave a guard posted outside your door."
When Sven's dark blue eyes met Witch Hagar's yellow ones, she saw the uncertainty and added, "After all, we wouldn't want another attempt on your life, Ryou. It is merely a precaution."
Physically, he still felt incredibly weak. Hagar had explained it may take a few days before he regained his strength and the icy feel in his bones faded; an unfortunate side effect of being frozen for months while his body healed. He understood and would be patient; only a few hours before, he couldn't even stand on his own! His body would improve, but his mind... He couldn't even remember his own name! He felt lost, even afraid. He didn't know what to do, or think, so for now, he would simply observe.
He watched as stewards cleared the table of what remained of his evening meal. The food had been hot, and surprisingly quite delicious, even if he had no idea what it was he had been eating. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the unopened bottle of wine that remained on the now clean table. A glass of wine would surely go far to warm his insides, and help him sleep tonight, but something deep down in his gut warned him against it. He found that, although he couldn't remember anything per se, he knew things were not what they seemed and that he couldn't afford to let his guard down.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rapping sound. Crossing the room, he paused to collect himself as best he could before he opened the door.
"Ryou..." Witch Hagar stepped to the side and motioned to Lotor, "I've brought our Prince."
"Highness," Sven lowered his head in unfelt deference before stepping aside to grant his visitors access.
"You are looking much better." Lotor began, unsure of how to proceed. This man was one of his greatest enemies! Could Hagar truly have erased his memories? How sure could he, the Prince of Doom, be that this once-member of the Voltron Force now believed himself to be one of Doom's greatest warriors? Hagar had warned him not to betray his uncertainty, but he was finding that much harder to do than not.
"Thank you, Sire."
A slightly uncomfortable silence filled the room as the two men sized one another up. To stop the mounting tension, Hagar crossed the room and lifted the unopened wine. "Ryou... was the wine not to your liking? Our great Prince had his personal steward pick it out himself."
Sven's eyes met Lotor's dissecting gaze for a brief moment before the former lowered his head once more.
"Please, my Prince, know that your gift is much appreciated. I am honored by your generosity. I simply felt it best not to partake while I am recovering from my injuries." This was both truth and lie.
"Of course, my good man." Lotor clasped Sven on the shoulder. "The sooner you are recovered, the sooner we can return to your training and get you back in the battle!"
"And we can begin the special treatments we were about to start right before you were injured," the witch added.
"Treatments?" Sven looked to Hagar, clearly concerned.
"Why yes, right before you were injured, you had agreed to treatments that would enhance your physical strength as well as your skills on the battlefield."
Lotor took his cue. "You are one of my greatest warriors, Ryou, and have always done anything to advance our cause."
Sven looked a bit uncertain, but something about this rang true. He knew he would fight to the death for something he believed in. He just wasn't sure he believed in these two.
"Well," Hagar said, "I think young Ryou must be overwhelmed by today's events. Perhaps, first thing in the morning, one of the guards could show him around the castle, maybe jog his memory a bit? Would that be acceptable, my Prince?"
Lotor nodded his assent. This was the part that he and Hagar had worked out in detail just moments before they had knocked on Sven's door. "But a guard?! I'll have no such thing!" Lotor's voice rang out with disapproval. "Ryou, we have fought side by side in many battles. You are a great warrior, and I have grown to call you friend. Tomorrow, I will personally escort you around the castle and it's grounds. Perhaps, it will trigger some memories."
"If it pleases you, I would like to come along," Hagar spoke. "I may be able to assist you in your recollections."
Sven looked from the Witch to the Prince and back again- it certainly did seem they meant him no harm and truly wanted to help. But there was that feeling of distrust that just wouldn't fade away...
Slowly, he nodded his head.
"I would be grateful for any help either of you could offer."
Sensing Sven's hesitancy, Lotor gave Hagar a meaningful look before he said, "We will take our leave and let you rest. If you need anything at all, just ask. I will leave a guard posted outside your door."
When Sven's dark blue eyes met Witch Hagar's yellow ones, she saw the uncertainty and added, "After all, we wouldn't want another attempt on your life, Ryou. It is merely a precaution."
"Someone's coming," Darla whispered.
Romelle nodded, watching intently for their approaching visitor. "Stay behind me, and remain silent, please Darla."
"Yes, majesty." Darla promised, but when she saw it was Prince Lotor himself who now stood in the open doorway of their prison cell, she whimpered in fear.
"What do you want, Lotor?" Romelle demanded while using her own body in an attempt to shield Darla from the prince's lewd and roaming eye.
"Why, Princess, is that anyway to speak to your lover?" Lotor stepped into the dank room and reached out to caress Romelle's cheek. When she jerked her head away, he shook his head and made a "tsking" sound. He met her midnight-blue eyes for a moment before reaching behind her and jerking Darla away. Without breaking eye contact with the Polluxian monarch, he pulled the young maid tightly against his chest, holding her still as he brought his lips to Darla's neck and began to bite down over and over, leaving ugly, dark purple welts up and down her tender throat.
Romelle's eyes widened as she reached out and grabbed Darla's arm in an attempt to pull her away from the Prince of Doom. "Please..."
Lotor grinned. "You know the rules. You made me a promise."
Romelle's head dropped, defeat washing over her. "Of course."
He took this as her acquiescence and in one quick movement shoved Darla to the floor and pulled Romelle into his arms. In no more than a few strides, he had her body pinned between his and the cold, damp rock of the cell's wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but he quickly covered it with his own, claiming her lips in a violent kiss. His teeth tore at her lips until she tasted blood and felt them swell as his force bruised them. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she struggled against him in a futile attempt to push him away. He pulled away for just a moment, looking down to study her beautiful form.
"Lotor..." Her throat was tight with unshed tears. "Please, don't do this..."
The Prince of Doom threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Oh, darling princess, this is just a bit of fun."
He proceeded to push her skirts up and over her hips, bunching them around her waist. Discovering she had nothing under the thin fabric, his breathing quickened, and his gold eyes lingered on her exposed womanhood. He reached out and touched the triangle of dark gold curls between her legs.
"Drule women have no hair here."
She turned her head away and slapped at his hand, which only made his smile, and his manhood, grow. He lifted her up, pulling her legs around his waist, and pressing his erection against her most intimate of places. He ground himself against her and let out a low groan.
"Oh, my beautiful Romelle," his voice was hoarse with a twisted desire. "I cannot wait until I feel your naked body writhing under mine," he cooed. "I will make you scream out your pleasure. Before this night ends, you will beg me to fill your body with my seed. I promise you this, my darling love."
Romelle remained completely still, not wanting to encourage him, terrified that at any moment he might free himself from the constraints of his breeches and make good on his threats. Her thoughts ran wildly through her mind, a paralyzing jumble of fear, disgust and confusion.
'It's as if he believes I truly want him! As if he doesn't understand he is forcing me into his bed by threatening my ladies-in-waiting.'
Her stomach twisted, tightening into a tight ball of nerves and she felt bile rise in her throat. She had known all along that Lotor had a warped sense of entitlement, but she had never realized just how deranged and out of touch with reality the Doomian Prince really was!
Lotor loosened his grip on Romelle and allowed her body to slide down the length of his own until her feet once again met the floor. Reaching out with complete tenderness, he tipped her chin up and met her lips in what she could only reluctantly describe as an incredibly tender and gentle show of affection.
"I will never love you as I do your cousin, the Princess Allura." He spoke the words against her ear in a lover's whisper. "But I do love you, my mistress. You will learn, you must not challenge my authority. I do not want to hurt your little friend; I know you care for her."
He pulled his head away and took a step back. "However, I will do whatever is necessary to protect our budding romance."
Romelle's entire body had begun to tremble as terror filled her heart. She glanced at where Darla now lay on the floor. The young girl's face had drained of color while she watched in horror at the scene playing out before her. Romelle knew whatever choices she made here and now would decide this poor child's fate.
As she drew in a deep breath, Romelle nodded her understanding; both that the Prince of Doom was in complete control of their fates, and that he was utterly mad.
"Good." Lotor offered a rather charming smile. "Now, I will be bringing a guest to meet you later today. I can assume you will be on your best behavior?"
Afraid to meet his eyes and give away her thoughts, Romelle continued to stare at the floor as she again nodded her agreement.
Lotor exited the small room, stopping long enough to have one of his guards enter the cell and snap a collar and leash around Darla's throat. At Romelle's gasp, the prince turned back to face her.
"I will return her to you this afternoon, unharmed, as long as you are a good girl." The look he offered her left no room for argument. "In a few moments, someone will be here to bathe and dress you. Simply do as they request, Romelle, and make both our lives a little easier."
The Princess of Pollux dropped to her knees as she watched her captor stroll away and her maid dragged off like an animal by one of his guards to some unknown place.
Romelle nodded, watching intently for their approaching visitor. "Stay behind me, and remain silent, please Darla."
"Yes, majesty." Darla promised, but when she saw it was Prince Lotor himself who now stood in the open doorway of their prison cell, she whimpered in fear.
"What do you want, Lotor?" Romelle demanded while using her own body in an attempt to shield Darla from the prince's lewd and roaming eye.
"Why, Princess, is that anyway to speak to your lover?" Lotor stepped into the dank room and reached out to caress Romelle's cheek. When she jerked her head away, he shook his head and made a "tsking" sound. He met her midnight-blue eyes for a moment before reaching behind her and jerking Darla away. Without breaking eye contact with the Polluxian monarch, he pulled the young maid tightly against his chest, holding her still as he brought his lips to Darla's neck and began to bite down over and over, leaving ugly, dark purple welts up and down her tender throat.
Romelle's eyes widened as she reached out and grabbed Darla's arm in an attempt to pull her away from the Prince of Doom. "Please..."
Lotor grinned. "You know the rules. You made me a promise."
Romelle's head dropped, defeat washing over her. "Of course."
He took this as her acquiescence and in one quick movement shoved Darla to the floor and pulled Romelle into his arms. In no more than a few strides, he had her body pinned between his and the cold, damp rock of the cell's wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but he quickly covered it with his own, claiming her lips in a violent kiss. His teeth tore at her lips until she tasted blood and felt them swell as his force bruised them. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she struggled against him in a futile attempt to push him away. He pulled away for just a moment, looking down to study her beautiful form.
"Lotor..." Her throat was tight with unshed tears. "Please, don't do this..."
The Prince of Doom threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Oh, darling princess, this is just a bit of fun."
He proceeded to push her skirts up and over her hips, bunching them around her waist. Discovering she had nothing under the thin fabric, his breathing quickened, and his gold eyes lingered on her exposed womanhood. He reached out and touched the triangle of dark gold curls between her legs.
"Drule women have no hair here."
She turned her head away and slapped at his hand, which only made his smile, and his manhood, grow. He lifted her up, pulling her legs around his waist, and pressing his erection against her most intimate of places. He ground himself against her and let out a low groan.
"Oh, my beautiful Romelle," his voice was hoarse with a twisted desire. "I cannot wait until I feel your naked body writhing under mine," he cooed. "I will make you scream out your pleasure. Before this night ends, you will beg me to fill your body with my seed. I promise you this, my darling love."
Romelle remained completely still, not wanting to encourage him, terrified that at any moment he might free himself from the constraints of his breeches and make good on his threats. Her thoughts ran wildly through her mind, a paralyzing jumble of fear, disgust and confusion.
'It's as if he believes I truly want him! As if he doesn't understand he is forcing me into his bed by threatening my ladies-in-waiting.'
Her stomach twisted, tightening into a tight ball of nerves and she felt bile rise in her throat. She had known all along that Lotor had a warped sense of entitlement, but she had never realized just how deranged and out of touch with reality the Doomian Prince really was!
Lotor loosened his grip on Romelle and allowed her body to slide down the length of his own until her feet once again met the floor. Reaching out with complete tenderness, he tipped her chin up and met her lips in what she could only reluctantly describe as an incredibly tender and gentle show of affection.
"I will never love you as I do your cousin, the Princess Allura." He spoke the words against her ear in a lover's whisper. "But I do love you, my mistress. You will learn, you must not challenge my authority. I do not want to hurt your little friend; I know you care for her."
He pulled his head away and took a step back. "However, I will do whatever is necessary to protect our budding romance."
Romelle's entire body had begun to tremble as terror filled her heart. She glanced at where Darla now lay on the floor. The young girl's face had drained of color while she watched in horror at the scene playing out before her. Romelle knew whatever choices she made here and now would decide this poor child's fate.
As she drew in a deep breath, Romelle nodded her understanding; both that the Prince of Doom was in complete control of their fates, and that he was utterly mad.
"Good." Lotor offered a rather charming smile. "Now, I will be bringing a guest to meet you later today. I can assume you will be on your best behavior?"
Afraid to meet his eyes and give away her thoughts, Romelle continued to stare at the floor as she again nodded her agreement.
Lotor exited the small room, stopping long enough to have one of his guards enter the cell and snap a collar and leash around Darla's throat. At Romelle's gasp, the prince turned back to face her.
"I will return her to you this afternoon, unharmed, as long as you are a good girl." The look he offered her left no room for argument. "In a few moments, someone will be here to bathe and dress you. Simply do as they request, Romelle, and make both our lives a little easier."
The Princess of Pollux dropped to her knees as she watched her captor stroll away and her maid dragged off like an animal by one of his guards to some unknown place.
Sven sat cross legged on the floor, hands resting on his knees. His eyes were closed as he drew in a deep breath through his nose, held it to a count of ten, then slowly exhaled though his mouth. He concentrated on his body's energy flow, leaving his conscious mind behind and focusing on what he felt, hoping he would somehow stimulate his memory.
He floated through his own psyche, but soon found himself stopped by what appeared to be an all encompassing black wall. Panic started to rise up from the very depths of his soul, but he quickly stilled the feeling and forced himself to really look at this blackness.
The longer he looked, the more he was sure he was missing something very important. And then he saw it! Hidden in the darkness there was a faint glow, as if a light shone from around a door. Hope blossomed inside his heart, and in his mind's eye, Sven watched himself step forward and place his hand against this aperture.
He gasped and started to jerk his hand back as a brilliant white flame enveloped his entire being, but before he could pull away, he felt the most amazing sense of peace fill his soul. This was his chi, his life force! And he knew, this was the way back. He removed his hand from the wall and stepped back, but continued to glow within the surge of his own energy.
Taking a moment, he went back to studying the blackness once more, but this time he found it seemed there was more light, as if tiny pinholes now punctured the wall here and there. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be a start in the right direction - maybe he would get his memory back, after all!
A sharp rapping sound accompanied by a creaky voice calling from the other side of his door jerked him back into the physical world.
"Ryou?"
'It's that damned witch!' Sven thought. He stood up and crossed the room, pausing to take a deep breath and quickly blow it out before he opened the door.
"Witch Hagar, please..." He said, stepping back and ushering her in with a wave of his arm.
"It took you some time to answer." Hagar eyed the space explorer carefully. She was sure she had felt some sort of energy pulse coming from behind that closed door. "Is everything all right?"
"Of course," Sven offered her a smile. He certainly had no intention of sharing anything with her, or that Prince, until he could figure out why he felt this overwhelming sense of imminent danger. A feeling he couldn't help but notice had grown rapidly after he had reconnected with his chi. "I apologize for taking so long, I would never keep a lady waiting."
'A lady?' Hagar thought with a certain sense of delight. She hadn't been treated like a lady for some time...She certainly didn't get a whole lot of respect around this place, let alone any consideration whatsoever. Especially from those two buffoons who thought they were running the show! Without meaning to, Hagar let slip a giggle.
"What the hell was that, Witch?" Lotor bellowed from the doorway. He gave a short bark of laughter as he stepped into the room and clapped Sven on the shoulder. "It sounded like a cat chocking up a hairball, don't you agree, Ryou?"
Not wanting to alienate the Prince, nor the Witch, Sven remained silent.
Lotor took in Sven's discomfort and Hagar's growing fury and laughed even harder. "What's wrong, friend? Cat got your tongue?"
"Prince Lotor-" Hagar began in a tone meant to chide.
"Be careful there, Ryou, it seems whenever she gets her hands on a handsome young man, he disappears in her laboratory never to be seen from again...Rumor has it she takes them as lovers, but after they've pet her kitty they end up covered in warts and turned into toads!"
Lotor found himself so amusing that he fell back against the door and laughed until tears began to fill his eyes.
Sven watched the Prince of Doom with a growing disdain. There was nothing wrong with a little good natured teasing, but this was just plain mean. He looked over at the witch and saw the fury burning in her eyes. And then he felt it - a deep sense of agony; a pain used to fuel her seemingly endless anger. His heart filled with sorrow for the old woman. What a sad existence she must live.
The problem was, Hagar felt it too. She watched Sven with a growing sense of urgency. 'Some how, he has reconnected with his psychic energy!' There was no way to tell if this meant he was already regaining his memories; no way to know just how much he remembered, if anything at all. This meant, with time, he would remember. But she had no idea if that would take days, weeks or even years. She had to warn Lotor - but then she looked over at the spoiled prince. Laughing and snorting with amusement as he did everything in his power to humiliate and degrade her.
'Well, I guess we'll just wait and see how Mr. I'm-so-funny does without my help.'
"If you will excuse me," Hagar said as she pushed Lotor out of her way and exited the room. "I just remembered something I must attend to."
She was going to make herself scarce until it was time to turn Sven into a robeast. If he didn't figure out who he was first! And if that happened, well she would let that little twit of a prince deal with it.
Lotor watched as the old witch scurried from the room. Turning to Sven, he said, "Well, maybe this won't be such a bad day after all."
"Sire?" Sven asked in confusion.
"That hag gives me the creeps, always slinking around the castle." He admitted, "It will be much more fun with just the two of us! Now, are you ready to start this tour?"
"Of course, Sire." Sven replied, thinking to himself, 'She may give me the creeps too, but I would never leave my back turned to you!'
He floated through his own psyche, but soon found himself stopped by what appeared to be an all encompassing black wall. Panic started to rise up from the very depths of his soul, but he quickly stilled the feeling and forced himself to really look at this blackness.
The longer he looked, the more he was sure he was missing something very important. And then he saw it! Hidden in the darkness there was a faint glow, as if a light shone from around a door. Hope blossomed inside his heart, and in his mind's eye, Sven watched himself step forward and place his hand against this aperture.
He gasped and started to jerk his hand back as a brilliant white flame enveloped his entire being, but before he could pull away, he felt the most amazing sense of peace fill his soul. This was his chi, his life force! And he knew, this was the way back. He removed his hand from the wall and stepped back, but continued to glow within the surge of his own energy.
Taking a moment, he went back to studying the blackness once more, but this time he found it seemed there was more light, as if tiny pinholes now punctured the wall here and there. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be a start in the right direction - maybe he would get his memory back, after all!
A sharp rapping sound accompanied by a creaky voice calling from the other side of his door jerked him back into the physical world.
"Ryou?"
'It's that damned witch!' Sven thought. He stood up and crossed the room, pausing to take a deep breath and quickly blow it out before he opened the door.
"Witch Hagar, please..." He said, stepping back and ushering her in with a wave of his arm.
"It took you some time to answer." Hagar eyed the space explorer carefully. She was sure she had felt some sort of energy pulse coming from behind that closed door. "Is everything all right?"
"Of course," Sven offered her a smile. He certainly had no intention of sharing anything with her, or that Prince, until he could figure out why he felt this overwhelming sense of imminent danger. A feeling he couldn't help but notice had grown rapidly after he had reconnected with his chi. "I apologize for taking so long, I would never keep a lady waiting."
'A lady?' Hagar thought with a certain sense of delight. She hadn't been treated like a lady for some time...She certainly didn't get a whole lot of respect around this place, let alone any consideration whatsoever. Especially from those two buffoons who thought they were running the show! Without meaning to, Hagar let slip a giggle.
"What the hell was that, Witch?" Lotor bellowed from the doorway. He gave a short bark of laughter as he stepped into the room and clapped Sven on the shoulder. "It sounded like a cat chocking up a hairball, don't you agree, Ryou?"
Not wanting to alienate the Prince, nor the Witch, Sven remained silent.
Lotor took in Sven's discomfort and Hagar's growing fury and laughed even harder. "What's wrong, friend? Cat got your tongue?"
"Prince Lotor-" Hagar began in a tone meant to chide.
"Be careful there, Ryou, it seems whenever she gets her hands on a handsome young man, he disappears in her laboratory never to be seen from again...Rumor has it she takes them as lovers, but after they've pet her kitty they end up covered in warts and turned into toads!"
Lotor found himself so amusing that he fell back against the door and laughed until tears began to fill his eyes.
Sven watched the Prince of Doom with a growing disdain. There was nothing wrong with a little good natured teasing, but this was just plain mean. He looked over at the witch and saw the fury burning in her eyes. And then he felt it - a deep sense of agony; a pain used to fuel her seemingly endless anger. His heart filled with sorrow for the old woman. What a sad existence she must live.
The problem was, Hagar felt it too. She watched Sven with a growing sense of urgency. 'Some how, he has reconnected with his psychic energy!' There was no way to tell if this meant he was already regaining his memories; no way to know just how much he remembered, if anything at all. This meant, with time, he would remember. But she had no idea if that would take days, weeks or even years. She had to warn Lotor - but then she looked over at the spoiled prince. Laughing and snorting with amusement as he did everything in his power to humiliate and degrade her.
'Well, I guess we'll just wait and see how Mr. I'm-so-funny does without my help.'
"If you will excuse me," Hagar said as she pushed Lotor out of her way and exited the room. "I just remembered something I must attend to."
She was going to make herself scarce until it was time to turn Sven into a robeast. If he didn't figure out who he was first! And if that happened, well she would let that little twit of a prince deal with it.
Lotor watched as the old witch scurried from the room. Turning to Sven, he said, "Well, maybe this won't be such a bad day after all."
"Sire?" Sven asked in confusion.
"That hag gives me the creeps, always slinking around the castle." He admitted, "It will be much more fun with just the two of us! Now, are you ready to start this tour?"
"Of course, Sire." Sven replied, thinking to himself, 'She may give me the creeps too, but I would never leave my back turned to you!'
The depravity Sven had witnessed today seemed unreal. People forced into slavery, used in the most atrocious ways. Animals twisted by dark magic until their species were no longer recognizable. Experiments performed on all manner of creature, man and beast alike, that were so sickening he had to fight the urge to expel the contents of his stomach. And that was just the beginning!
The deeper they moved into the bowels of Castle Doom, the more disturbing the "sights" became. And the more glee Prince Lotor took in sharing them. It was the definition of perverse.
Lotor turned to look at Sven and flashed a quick smile as he announced, "And now, our crowning glory!" the Drule had to admit, he was impressed by this human! So far, it seemed nothing got under his skin - his face remained expressionless. Even better, he remained quiet, listening rather than constantly blathering on and on like that irksome Captain Keith. The Prince's smile grew into a grin, 'I bet Keith won't have so much to say when he sees my new robeast!'
"Come, Ryou," Lotor indicated they should enter a nearby doorway. "This is a project my father and I have spent many years working diligently on. One of the few things we built together!"
Sven stepped through the arched door and into what he could only describe as a living nightmare.
"This is where we teach our children about inferior species."
Sven felt his legs shake as he looked around a room with all manner of species, humanoid and animal alike, stuffed and mounted. It seemed there were hundreds of alien races on display; thousands of victims. Men, women - adults, children... Infants.
Some of the displays were scientific. Skeletal remains hanging from wire frames. Creatures that had been skinned, preserved in tanks of liquid (much like the one he had recently been freed from) so their musculature systems could be studied. Skulls cut open and brains displayed, organs in cases with descriptions of what they were and how they worked.
Other displays were of differing species in their natural habitats, animals in the wilds of their home planets - or humanoid creatures in their dwellings... Replicas of homes; of families. One showed a family sitting together and playing a board game. Another a couple sharing an intimate dinner.
Stepping forward, he read a plaque placed before a particularly disturbing scene - a man and woman in a room that resembled a hospital, looking for all the universe as if they were holding their newborn child for the first time.
Terran adult male and female with freshly hatched larvae.
"I caught those beasts myself," Lotor said from over Sven's shoulder. He sounded incredibly proud of himself. "It was on my first raid on Terra. My father was so proud of me - to make such a large and important kill when I was still so young! Do you see how clean my kills were-" he pointed, "-when I slit that woman's throat it did leave some scarring, but I used a small curved blade on the man and you can barely see anything!"
When Sven remained silent, Lotor took it as a sign of awe, and continued on. "This is what inspired my father to create this place! A museum of sorts, where we can teach our children all about animals like-"
"Animals?" Sven's eyes blazed with fury as he turned to face Lotor. "These are humans!"
Again, misreading the situation, Lotor sought to soothe his new friend's concern. "Now, now Ryou. Do not worry! Although you may not have quite the superior intellect, nor the exceptional physicality of someone like myself, or another of my species, we do recognize there are special specimens from all species, like yourself! We have found that there are always exceptions, and that they make wonderful pets!"
"Pets?" Sven repeated. He was beginning to feel rage burning throughout his body and knew he had to get it under control. Looking down at his boots, he briefly closed his eyes and reached for the bright white light he had found his way back to early this morning. When he felt the light's brilliance, he wrapped his entire body within and allowed the calm to wash over him.
"Perhaps the word 'pet' is incorrect." Lotor felt somewhat ill at ease. Last night in a private conversation, Hagar had been sure to reiterate that Sven had no memory of his former life, but that he would maintain a large amount of his knowledge as well as a certain degree of his personality. 'It seems this Sven has a bit of an ego!'
"I do not wish it to seem that we are not friends, Ryou! You are indeed a fine specimen for a human. But, even you must see, we are not equals."
After an intensely quiet moment that Sven used to regain control over his temper, he replied. "You are correct, Prince Lotor. We are not equal at all."
Unaware of underlying meaning to Sven's words, Lotor grinned. "Glad you can see things my way!" He clapped Sven on the back before turning toward a door in the far end of the room. "Now, we will continue through there! We have a small dungeon over here. There are a few cells to keep the animals we are going to kill for the museum, but we also use those cells for important prisoners!"
Sven allowed Lotor to usher him across the massive room only because he was at a complete loss of what else to do right now. He didn't know how much more he could take. His self-control and composure were already beginning to crumble. As they reached the door, he still didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to find a way out of this place. With every beat of his heart, he grew more confident that this was a place he did not belong.
When Lotor spoke, his tone was almost jubilant, like a child showing off a new toy, and it drew Sven's attention back to the moment.
"I have a special guest staying here, right now!" Lotor grinned and used his hands to outline the shape of an hourglass. "Just wait until you see her! She's an incomparable beauty."
The deeper they moved into the bowels of Castle Doom, the more disturbing the "sights" became. And the more glee Prince Lotor took in sharing them. It was the definition of perverse.
Lotor turned to look at Sven and flashed a quick smile as he announced, "And now, our crowning glory!" the Drule had to admit, he was impressed by this human! So far, it seemed nothing got under his skin - his face remained expressionless. Even better, he remained quiet, listening rather than constantly blathering on and on like that irksome Captain Keith. The Prince's smile grew into a grin, 'I bet Keith won't have so much to say when he sees my new robeast!'
"Come, Ryou," Lotor indicated they should enter a nearby doorway. "This is a project my father and I have spent many years working diligently on. One of the few things we built together!"
Sven stepped through the arched door and into what he could only describe as a living nightmare.
"This is where we teach our children about inferior species."
Sven felt his legs shake as he looked around a room with all manner of species, humanoid and animal alike, stuffed and mounted. It seemed there were hundreds of alien races on display; thousands of victims. Men, women - adults, children... Infants.
Some of the displays were scientific. Skeletal remains hanging from wire frames. Creatures that had been skinned, preserved in tanks of liquid (much like the one he had recently been freed from) so their musculature systems could be studied. Skulls cut open and brains displayed, organs in cases with descriptions of what they were and how they worked.
Other displays were of differing species in their natural habitats, animals in the wilds of their home planets - or humanoid creatures in their dwellings... Replicas of homes; of families. One showed a family sitting together and playing a board game. Another a couple sharing an intimate dinner.
Stepping forward, he read a plaque placed before a particularly disturbing scene - a man and woman in a room that resembled a hospital, looking for all the universe as if they were holding their newborn child for the first time.
Terran adult male and female with freshly hatched larvae.
"I caught those beasts myself," Lotor said from over Sven's shoulder. He sounded incredibly proud of himself. "It was on my first raid on Terra. My father was so proud of me - to make such a large and important kill when I was still so young! Do you see how clean my kills were-" he pointed, "-when I slit that woman's throat it did leave some scarring, but I used a small curved blade on the man and you can barely see anything!"
When Sven remained silent, Lotor took it as a sign of awe, and continued on. "This is what inspired my father to create this place! A museum of sorts, where we can teach our children all about animals like-"
"Animals?" Sven's eyes blazed with fury as he turned to face Lotor. "These are humans!"
Again, misreading the situation, Lotor sought to soothe his new friend's concern. "Now, now Ryou. Do not worry! Although you may not have quite the superior intellect, nor the exceptional physicality of someone like myself, or another of my species, we do recognize there are special specimens from all species, like yourself! We have found that there are always exceptions, and that they make wonderful pets!"
"Pets?" Sven repeated. He was beginning to feel rage burning throughout his body and knew he had to get it under control. Looking down at his boots, he briefly closed his eyes and reached for the bright white light he had found his way back to early this morning. When he felt the light's brilliance, he wrapped his entire body within and allowed the calm to wash over him.
"Perhaps the word 'pet' is incorrect." Lotor felt somewhat ill at ease. Last night in a private conversation, Hagar had been sure to reiterate that Sven had no memory of his former life, but that he would maintain a large amount of his knowledge as well as a certain degree of his personality. 'It seems this Sven has a bit of an ego!'
"I do not wish it to seem that we are not friends, Ryou! You are indeed a fine specimen for a human. But, even you must see, we are not equals."
After an intensely quiet moment that Sven used to regain control over his temper, he replied. "You are correct, Prince Lotor. We are not equal at all."
Unaware of underlying meaning to Sven's words, Lotor grinned. "Glad you can see things my way!" He clapped Sven on the back before turning toward a door in the far end of the room. "Now, we will continue through there! We have a small dungeon over here. There are a few cells to keep the animals we are going to kill for the museum, but we also use those cells for important prisoners!"
Sven allowed Lotor to usher him across the massive room only because he was at a complete loss of what else to do right now. He didn't know how much more he could take. His self-control and composure were already beginning to crumble. As they reached the door, he still didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to find a way out of this place. With every beat of his heart, he grew more confident that this was a place he did not belong.
When Lotor spoke, his tone was almost jubilant, like a child showing off a new toy, and it drew Sven's attention back to the moment.
"I have a special guest staying here, right now!" Lotor grinned and used his hands to outline the shape of an hourglass. "Just wait until you see her! She's an incomparable beauty."
Romelle was alerted by the sound of boots clicking on the stone floors. Her hands began to tremble and her stomach knotted with anxiety. She could tell there were at least two people approaching.
'It must be Lotor with whomever he was talking about bringing to meet me...' She didn't understand the game that was being played, but she had a pretty good idea of why.
After Lotor had assaulted her, her two missing maids had returned to the cell along with a female Drule whom Romelle had never met before. The Drule hadn't said much, and had been quick to discourage any unnecessary communication between the Polluxian Princess and her ladies-in-waiting.
'At least I know they're still alive!' she thought as she considered the situation.
After they had helped her bathe, she had been dressed and her hair styled. Then just as quickly as they had been returned to her, the two maids had been ushered from the room and Romelle had been left alone once more.
'This must be about Sven!' she thought, and not for the first time. She looked down and ran a hand across the pink satin of the dress she now wore. Why else would she have been forced to wear what looked to be the tattered remains of her cousin's old gown. She shook her head, '... this is insanity!'
She wondered where the dress had come from and a chill ran up and down her spine. The more she examined it, the more certain she became that this wasn't just a replica of Allura's gown. Shutting her eyes tightly, she prayed for her cousin's safety. Lotor's obsession with the Princess of Arus was absolutely appalling.
For all the stars in the galaxy, she could only think of one reason for the dress - Sven's memory was returning! She had to hope this was the case. The only other idea she had come up with was that Lotor or Hagar felt the need to see just how Sven reacted when faced with what should be a familiar figure in distress. Either way she had to hope that she could find a way to trigger his memories of Princess Allura.
She saw something move from the corner of her eye and turned to face the cell door just in time to watch Prince Lotor approaching, a sickeningly delighted smile playing across his deceptively handsome face.
"My Sweet," Lotor drawled while eyeing Romelle. He turned to face the nearby guard. "Open this door."
As the Prince of Doom stepped aside to allow for the guard to unlock and open the cell door, Romelle caught just a glimpse of the man with Lotor. She couldn't see much, but she could tell he was human and that he matched Allura's description of Sven.
"Now," Lotor spoke as he stepped through the doorway, confidently approaching Romelle. He placed a kiss on her cheek before taking her hand in his own and moving to stand at her side. "May I present to you, my dear friend Ryou. And Ryou, this is my paramour, Romelle."
When their eyes met it was if the entire universe had melted away, leaving behind just the two of them.
Romelle's breath caught in her throat. Tall, broad-shouldered, slim. Hair so black it shone with purple highlights; eyes so blue it was like looking at the night sky just as the stars began to twinkle. Perfectly arched brows, a straight nose, and lips that looked oh-so kissable! Oh, he was certainly the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on to be sure, but this feeling had nothing to do with that. There was something in those eyes of his. She couldn't name it, but in that moment, she felt as if his soul called to hers, singing a melody only they knew. She didn't understand how, but she knew he felt it, too.
The spell was broken as Romelle slowly became aware of the growing intensity of Lotor's grip on her hand. Glancing up, she saw that the smile had faded from his lips. Fear began to bloom in the pit of her stomach at the snarl that now twisted the Prince's face - he was on the verge of flying into a fit of rage! Quickly, she dropped into a curtsey, lowering her head and speaking so softly that both men had to strain to hear her voice.
"It is an honor to meet any friend of my beloved Lotor."
Lotor's jealous fits were no secret anywhere in the universe, and she knew she must keep his attention directed away from Sven, at least for a moment or two. It seemed that was all the time it ever took for his mercurial temperament to flip moods once he was distracted. Romelle seized the opportunity to throw the Prince off his game just a bit by looking up at him through her thick lashes and gracing him with a beguiling smile.
Lotor couldn't help himself. He brought Romelle's hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm.
And that's why the Prince of Doom never saw Sven coming.
'It must be Lotor with whomever he was talking about bringing to meet me...' She didn't understand the game that was being played, but she had a pretty good idea of why.
After Lotor had assaulted her, her two missing maids had returned to the cell along with a female Drule whom Romelle had never met before. The Drule hadn't said much, and had been quick to discourage any unnecessary communication between the Polluxian Princess and her ladies-in-waiting.
'At least I know they're still alive!' she thought as she considered the situation.
After they had helped her bathe, she had been dressed and her hair styled. Then just as quickly as they had been returned to her, the two maids had been ushered from the room and Romelle had been left alone once more.
'This must be about Sven!' she thought, and not for the first time. She looked down and ran a hand across the pink satin of the dress she now wore. Why else would she have been forced to wear what looked to be the tattered remains of her cousin's old gown. She shook her head, '... this is insanity!'
She wondered where the dress had come from and a chill ran up and down her spine. The more she examined it, the more certain she became that this wasn't just a replica of Allura's gown. Shutting her eyes tightly, she prayed for her cousin's safety. Lotor's obsession with the Princess of Arus was absolutely appalling.
For all the stars in the galaxy, she could only think of one reason for the dress - Sven's memory was returning! She had to hope this was the case. The only other idea she had come up with was that Lotor or Hagar felt the need to see just how Sven reacted when faced with what should be a familiar figure in distress. Either way she had to hope that she could find a way to trigger his memories of Princess Allura.
She saw something move from the corner of her eye and turned to face the cell door just in time to watch Prince Lotor approaching, a sickeningly delighted smile playing across his deceptively handsome face.
"My Sweet," Lotor drawled while eyeing Romelle. He turned to face the nearby guard. "Open this door."
As the Prince of Doom stepped aside to allow for the guard to unlock and open the cell door, Romelle caught just a glimpse of the man with Lotor. She couldn't see much, but she could tell he was human and that he matched Allura's description of Sven.
"Now," Lotor spoke as he stepped through the doorway, confidently approaching Romelle. He placed a kiss on her cheek before taking her hand in his own and moving to stand at her side. "May I present to you, my dear friend Ryou. And Ryou, this is my paramour, Romelle."
When their eyes met it was if the entire universe had melted away, leaving behind just the two of them.
Romelle's breath caught in her throat. Tall, broad-shouldered, slim. Hair so black it shone with purple highlights; eyes so blue it was like looking at the night sky just as the stars began to twinkle. Perfectly arched brows, a straight nose, and lips that looked oh-so kissable! Oh, he was certainly the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on to be sure, but this feeling had nothing to do with that. There was something in those eyes of his. She couldn't name it, but in that moment, she felt as if his soul called to hers, singing a melody only they knew. She didn't understand how, but she knew he felt it, too.
The spell was broken as Romelle slowly became aware of the growing intensity of Lotor's grip on her hand. Glancing up, she saw that the smile had faded from his lips. Fear began to bloom in the pit of her stomach at the snarl that now twisted the Prince's face - he was on the verge of flying into a fit of rage! Quickly, she dropped into a curtsey, lowering her head and speaking so softly that both men had to strain to hear her voice.
"It is an honor to meet any friend of my beloved Lotor."
Lotor's jealous fits were no secret anywhere in the universe, and she knew she must keep his attention directed away from Sven, at least for a moment or two. It seemed that was all the time it ever took for his mercurial temperament to flip moods once he was distracted. Romelle seized the opportunity to throw the Prince off his game just a bit by looking up at him through her thick lashes and gracing him with a beguiling smile.
Lotor couldn't help himself. He brought Romelle's hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm.
And that's why the Prince of Doom never saw Sven coming.
Sven lunged forward and grabbed Lotor's sword. Once the weapon was freed from its scabbard, he brought it up, resting its tip against the delicate underside of the prince's chin.
"Let the woman go," Sven met Lotor's glare with one of his own.
"Ryou-"
Sven twisted his wrist and blood drizzled down the blue skin of the prince's throat. Reaching up, Lotor touched the hot liquid. He lifted his hand in from of his face and examined the scarlet color that now coated his fingers.
"You will regr-"
"If you do not release the woman, you will be dead."
Reluctantly, Lotor allowed Romelle to pull free of his grip. He spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to Sven. The fire burning behind Lotor's yellow eyes would be enough to terrify a lesser man, but Sven remained unimpressed.
"To me, Princess."
Romelle's eyes widened at Sven's words. This had to be a sign that he remembered something.
"Princess." Lotor spat the word out as if it soured his tongue. "She is no more than a whore."
Sven's body tensed and he twisted the blade a little deeper into Lotor's throat. He would end this piece of sh- A small hand placed on his arm stopped his train of thought.
"Please," Romelle plead, "we must escape this place."
Sven nodded his acknowledgement but never once removed his eyes from Lotor's face. "Call your man."
The Prince of Doom seemed to consider his options; it didn't take long for him to choose to save his own skin. "Guard."
As the Drule soldier stepped into the room, he couldn't believe his eyes! His Prince being held captive in his very own dungeon by one of those damned space explorers and a whore. He didn't know whether to draw his weapon, or laugh. Sven quickly remedied his indecision.
"Toss your weapons onto the floor and kick them away or I will slit Lotor's throat."
The guard's eyes widened and he looked askance at his mighty Prince.
"Just do as he says, you moron!" Lotor growled.
Once the weapons were stripped away from the Drules, Sven instructed the guard to stand by his prince.
"Miss, please bring me the ray gun."
Romelle did as asked. As she handed the weapon to Sven, he handed her Lotor's sword.
"Miss, please gather the other weapons and take them from the room. Wait there for me, outside the cell. I do not wish a lady such as yourself to see any more violence than you must."
"Of course," Romelle spoke the words in little more than a whisper. She felt a deep flush work its way across her cheeks and down her throat. It was incredulous that in such a place, under such circumstances, she could feel this way. Once more, she was struck by the deep connection she felt to this man. 'Perhaps it is his valor or that he is my savior?' Somewhere inside her heart, she knew that simply wasn't the truth. Somehow, the fates had brought them together.
Suddenly aware of Lotor's glare crawling over her skin, Romelle picked up the pace, grabbing the weapons and hurrying from the room. As she stepped through the doorway, she hesitated for just a moment as she considered looking back at the Prince of Doom just to be sure he was truly under Sven's control. But she decided against it, refusing to give the piece of scum the satisfaction.
"Now," Sven held the ray gun aimed at Lotor's head. "Both of you, remove your clothes and toss them over by the door."
"Are you mad? I am the Crown Prince of Doom!" Lotor bellowed.
"No, I am not mad, but I am growing impatient." Sven smirked. "And I do not care who you are, if I shoot you through the head, you will die."
"You wouldn't dar-"
Lotor's words were cut short as Sven fired a single shot through the guard's head. The sight of the man's brains splattered on the wall and floor surrounding them made Lotor's stomach turn.
"You were saying, Prince Lotor?"
Lotor quickly removed his clothing, now convinced that whatever Hagar had done to the Terran had addled his brains!
"His clothes too," Sven commanded, indicating the dead soldier.
"But-"
"NOW!" Sven's growing ire spurred Lotor into action and he quickly pulled the clothing from the guard's body. He tossed everything toward the door and started to stand but just as he did so, Sven brought the butt of the gun down hard, cracking it against the prince's skull. Lotor slumped to the ground.
Leaning down, Sven felt for a pulse. When he found one, he considered finishing the monster off. 'One shot...' he thought. But a sound from the doorway caught his attention and he looked up to find a terrified pair of midnight blue eyes watching his every move.
"It is all right, my lady." Sven tried to sound as soothing as possible. "I will not allow this beast to hurt you any more." At her nod, he continued. "Please, I need you to bring me their belts so I can restrain Lotor before he wakes."
"He will live?" she whispered, handing him both of the Drule's discarded belts.
"Yes." Sven said as he set to work binding Lotor's hands, then feet. When he looked up, he saw the terror in Romelle's eyes.
"They murdered my family," tears began to slip unbidden down her cheeks.
"Do you want me to end his life?" Sven asked without emotion. Even though he did not remember, his instincts had taken over. The Galaxy Alliance had trained him as a specialist - a sniper, an assassin - and right now, that training had saved his life, whether he knew it or not.
He watched Romelle and when he looked at her, something tugged at his memory. He felt as if he knew her, and yet he had this feeling they had never met before. Sven examined her every feature; a slim but curvy figure, long blonde hair, eyes that glittered like sapphires. She had an adorable, slightly up-turned nose, and lips that were rosy and lush. Spirited. His pulse quickened and a fiery rage burned through his veins at the very thought of what the Prince of Doom may have done to her. In that moment, he knew he would do anything for this woman.
"No," Romelle's voice was soft and low. "I just want to leave this place."
"Of course," Sven said. "Please, step outside so I can change into the guard's clothing and then we will find a way out of this hell."
"Let the woman go," Sven met Lotor's glare with one of his own.
"Ryou-"
Sven twisted his wrist and blood drizzled down the blue skin of the prince's throat. Reaching up, Lotor touched the hot liquid. He lifted his hand in from of his face and examined the scarlet color that now coated his fingers.
"You will regr-"
"If you do not release the woman, you will be dead."
Reluctantly, Lotor allowed Romelle to pull free of his grip. He spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to Sven. The fire burning behind Lotor's yellow eyes would be enough to terrify a lesser man, but Sven remained unimpressed.
"To me, Princess."
Romelle's eyes widened at Sven's words. This had to be a sign that he remembered something.
"Princess." Lotor spat the word out as if it soured his tongue. "She is no more than a whore."
Sven's body tensed and he twisted the blade a little deeper into Lotor's throat. He would end this piece of sh- A small hand placed on his arm stopped his train of thought.
"Please," Romelle plead, "we must escape this place."
Sven nodded his acknowledgement but never once removed his eyes from Lotor's face. "Call your man."
The Prince of Doom seemed to consider his options; it didn't take long for him to choose to save his own skin. "Guard."
As the Drule soldier stepped into the room, he couldn't believe his eyes! His Prince being held captive in his very own dungeon by one of those damned space explorers and a whore. He didn't know whether to draw his weapon, or laugh. Sven quickly remedied his indecision.
"Toss your weapons onto the floor and kick them away or I will slit Lotor's throat."
The guard's eyes widened and he looked askance at his mighty Prince.
"Just do as he says, you moron!" Lotor growled.
Once the weapons were stripped away from the Drules, Sven instructed the guard to stand by his prince.
"Miss, please bring me the ray gun."
Romelle did as asked. As she handed the weapon to Sven, he handed her Lotor's sword.
"Miss, please gather the other weapons and take them from the room. Wait there for me, outside the cell. I do not wish a lady such as yourself to see any more violence than you must."
"Of course," Romelle spoke the words in little more than a whisper. She felt a deep flush work its way across her cheeks and down her throat. It was incredulous that in such a place, under such circumstances, she could feel this way. Once more, she was struck by the deep connection she felt to this man. 'Perhaps it is his valor or that he is my savior?' Somewhere inside her heart, she knew that simply wasn't the truth. Somehow, the fates had brought them together.
Suddenly aware of Lotor's glare crawling over her skin, Romelle picked up the pace, grabbing the weapons and hurrying from the room. As she stepped through the doorway, she hesitated for just a moment as she considered looking back at the Prince of Doom just to be sure he was truly under Sven's control. But she decided against it, refusing to give the piece of scum the satisfaction.
"Now," Sven held the ray gun aimed at Lotor's head. "Both of you, remove your clothes and toss them over by the door."
"Are you mad? I am the Crown Prince of Doom!" Lotor bellowed.
"No, I am not mad, but I am growing impatient." Sven smirked. "And I do not care who you are, if I shoot you through the head, you will die."
"You wouldn't dar-"
Lotor's words were cut short as Sven fired a single shot through the guard's head. The sight of the man's brains splattered on the wall and floor surrounding them made Lotor's stomach turn.
"You were saying, Prince Lotor?"
Lotor quickly removed his clothing, now convinced that whatever Hagar had done to the Terran had addled his brains!
"His clothes too," Sven commanded, indicating the dead soldier.
"But-"
"NOW!" Sven's growing ire spurred Lotor into action and he quickly pulled the clothing from the guard's body. He tossed everything toward the door and started to stand but just as he did so, Sven brought the butt of the gun down hard, cracking it against the prince's skull. Lotor slumped to the ground.
Leaning down, Sven felt for a pulse. When he found one, he considered finishing the monster off. 'One shot...' he thought. But a sound from the doorway caught his attention and he looked up to find a terrified pair of midnight blue eyes watching his every move.
"It is all right, my lady." Sven tried to sound as soothing as possible. "I will not allow this beast to hurt you any more." At her nod, he continued. "Please, I need you to bring me their belts so I can restrain Lotor before he wakes."
"He will live?" she whispered, handing him both of the Drule's discarded belts.
"Yes." Sven said as he set to work binding Lotor's hands, then feet. When he looked up, he saw the terror in Romelle's eyes.
"They murdered my family," tears began to slip unbidden down her cheeks.
"Do you want me to end his life?" Sven asked without emotion. Even though he did not remember, his instincts had taken over. The Galaxy Alliance had trained him as a specialist - a sniper, an assassin - and right now, that training had saved his life, whether he knew it or not.
He watched Romelle and when he looked at her, something tugged at his memory. He felt as if he knew her, and yet he had this feeling they had never met before. Sven examined her every feature; a slim but curvy figure, long blonde hair, eyes that glittered like sapphires. She had an adorable, slightly up-turned nose, and lips that were rosy and lush. Spirited. His pulse quickened and a fiery rage burned through his veins at the very thought of what the Prince of Doom may have done to her. In that moment, he knew he would do anything for this woman.
"No," Romelle's voice was soft and low. "I just want to leave this place."
"Of course," Sven said. "Please, step outside so I can change into the guard's clothing and then we will find a way out of this hell."
When Sven, now wearing a Drule soldier's uniform, stepped into the hallway, Romelle handed him a dagger along with Lotor's sword. He looked her up and down, and noted she had cut both the sleeves off her gown, as well as a considerable length off of the skirt. She had made use of the remnants by using them to strap a dagger around her thigh.
"The skirt would only slow me down and get in my way," Romelle explained, sensing his discomfort.
"Smart." Sven replied and he couldn't help but notice that the Polluxian Princess blushed prettily. He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, to spend hours with her, to get to know her. But he knew this wasn't the time or the place - he had to get them both to safety.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" he asked.
"I know how to get outside," Romelle began, "and I know which building houses the smaller airships, but I have people here - my ladies-in-waiting."
Sven seemed to consider this. "How many and where?"
"Three, and I don't know."
"And how long before a guard will come to relieve the one I killed?"
She winced at the memory of the dead man's body. "Three and a half, maybe four hours, at most."
"Then we had better start searching." Sven eyed her for a moment. "If we do not find them-"
"Then you can leave without me."
"I didn't mean-"
Romelle turned her back to him. "I will not leave my maids to suffer in this horrible place."
Sven sighed. He knew he wouldn't leave his people behind if he were in her place, either. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, I will not abandon you, or your ladies here, but we must work quickly. We must leave this place as soon as we can."
Romelle turned back around and met his eyes. "I'm exhausted. I was over-reacting. I am sorry, Sven."
"Sven?" He looked at her, perplexed. Something about the name felt incredibly familiar.
"Yes, Sven." Romelle gave him a hopeful smile. "It is your real name."
"Do we know one another?"
Romelle felt a deep sadness at the excitement in his voice. "I'm sorry, but no. I only know who you are because you were close to my cousin, before..."
"Before what? And who is your cousin?"
"Wait, Sven," she laid a hand against his chest, her breath catching in her throat when he covered it with his own hand and held it against his heart. For a moment she couldn't remember what she was about to say.
"Go on...?"
"Sven, it is a long story and I promise I will tell you everything I can, but first we must leave this place!"
Although he looked disappointed, Sven nodded his understanding. "Will you at least tell me why I called you Princess?"
She gave him a bashful smile. "Because I look just like my cousin. The Princess Allura of Arus."
"Does that mean you are royalty, too?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I am the Princess of Pollux, Romelle."
"Romelle, what a beautiful name." He tried it out, but with his thick Norwegian accent, it sounded like he was saying, "Roma."
"The skirt would only slow me down and get in my way," Romelle explained, sensing his discomfort.
"Smart." Sven replied and he couldn't help but notice that the Polluxian Princess blushed prettily. He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, to spend hours with her, to get to know her. But he knew this wasn't the time or the place - he had to get them both to safety.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" he asked.
"I know how to get outside," Romelle began, "and I know which building houses the smaller airships, but I have people here - my ladies-in-waiting."
Sven seemed to consider this. "How many and where?"
"Three, and I don't know."
"And how long before a guard will come to relieve the one I killed?"
She winced at the memory of the dead man's body. "Three and a half, maybe four hours, at most."
"Then we had better start searching." Sven eyed her for a moment. "If we do not find them-"
"Then you can leave without me."
"I didn't mean-"
Romelle turned her back to him. "I will not leave my maids to suffer in this horrible place."
Sven sighed. He knew he wouldn't leave his people behind if he were in her place, either. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, I will not abandon you, or your ladies here, but we must work quickly. We must leave this place as soon as we can."
Romelle turned back around and met his eyes. "I'm exhausted. I was over-reacting. I am sorry, Sven."
"Sven?" He looked at her, perplexed. Something about the name felt incredibly familiar.
"Yes, Sven." Romelle gave him a hopeful smile. "It is your real name."
"Do we know one another?"
Romelle felt a deep sadness at the excitement in his voice. "I'm sorry, but no. I only know who you are because you were close to my cousin, before..."
"Before what? And who is your cousin?"
"Wait, Sven," she laid a hand against his chest, her breath catching in her throat when he covered it with his own hand and held it against his heart. For a moment she couldn't remember what she was about to say.
"Go on...?"
"Sven, it is a long story and I promise I will tell you everything I can, but first we must leave this place!"
Although he looked disappointed, Sven nodded his understanding. "Will you at least tell me why I called you Princess?"
She gave him a bashful smile. "Because I look just like my cousin. The Princess Allura of Arus."
"Does that mean you are royalty, too?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I am the Princess of Pollux, Romelle."
"Romelle, what a beautiful name." He tried it out, but with his thick Norwegian accent, it sounded like he was saying, "Roma."
They had checked all of the cells in the small dungeon where Romelle had been held and unfortunately had found no trace of her ladies-in-waiting. They had decided to head down into a deeper level of the castle where the torture chambers and slave dungeons were located. Before they did so, Romelle had told Sven she wanted to show him how to escape the castle if something were to prevent her from being able to lead him out later. They approached a door at the end of the same corridor where her cell had been. The door was made from a thick metal and had the word "surgery" painted across it in red lettering.
"This way," Romelle said pushing the door open and stepping into a dimly lit room. "There is a chute in the far wall where they dump bodies into the Pit of Skulls."
Sven followed her into the room, but stopped her by reaching out and taking her hand. "How do you know all of this?"
"I overheard the guards talking about...about...they have a room," she tried to explain. "They call it a museum..." her voice trailed off.
"I know," he said simply, "I saw it."
She looked up at him and almost allowed herself the luxury of leaning against his broad chest when a small scratching noise caught her attention. She gave Sven a questioning look as she pointed at the closet door where the sound had originated.
He nodded, acknowledging he'd heard it too. Stepping in front of Romelle, he indicated she should remain close but allow him to take the lead. When she acknowledged him with a quick nod of her head, he lifted three fingers and began to count them down. On three, he leapt forward, brought the ray gun up and swung the door wide.
A tiny, doe-eyed form huddled on the floor of the closet, looking up at Sven as if the entire universe had just crashed down around her. Large tears slipped down her cheeks and she whimpered.
"Darla!" Romelle rushed forward and pulled the young girl out of the cupboard and into a tight hug. "Oh, thank the heavens!"
"Your Majesty!" Darla exclaimed holding on to Romelle with all her might.
"It's okay, child," Romelle soothed. "We are going to get out of here."
With widened eyes and a fearful look Darla took a step back and returned her attention to Sven. Her voice shook, "Princess?"
"It's okay, Darla," Romelle realized the poor girl must be confused by the Drule soldier's uniform. "This is Sven, and he is going to help us to escape!"
"Sven?!" The maid's voice took on an unbelieving note. "As in the Voltron Force pilot Sven who everyone thinks is dead?"
"One and the same," Romelle said.
"What is going on, Roma?" Sven asked, "What is she talking about?"
"It's that long story I was telling you about earlier," Romelle explained. "I promise, Sven, as soon as we are away from here, I will explain."
When Sven nodded his understanding, Romelle returned her attention to her little maid. "We have to get out of here as quickly as possible. Darla, do you know where the others are?"
Darla began to shake, her mouth opened and closed, and at first no noise came out. After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she spoke her words were rushed. "I'm sorry, I tried to stop them."
"What do you mean?" Romelle's heart was growing heavy with dread. "Darla, where are they?"
"We were being held in the cell across the hall."
Romelle glanced at Sven who looked lost and helpless. "And?"
"The guards...they..."
"Go on, child," Romelle encouraged.
"They kept coming into the cell and threatening us. They kept telling us that Prince Lotor was going to throw all of us, including you, into the Pit of Skulls," the girl's voice shook with terror. "When they brought them back to the cell today, they forgot to lock the door."
Romelle felt her stomach drop. "What happened then, Darla?"
One slim arm raised up and the girl pointed at the chute. "They said they would rather take their chances than to wait for someone to kill them and dump their bodies..." she burst into tears again, but continued on. "I said I wouldn't leave without you, but they said they couldn't wait any longer and that you would be better off if you no longer had to worry for us."
"They jumped?" Sven interjected.
"Yes," Darla glanced in his direction but quickly returned her attention to Romelle. "But Princess, I hid. I was waiting for the guards to fall asleep and then I was going to steal their keys and free you."
"You are a good girl, Darla. So very brave." As Romelle spoke, she held out her arms and the little maid rushed in for a hug. Not for the first time, Romelle felt herself in awe of this child and her courage. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to stop the overwhelming need she felt to cry.
'This can't be happening!' She thought fiercely. 'If only we had been here a little sooner-'
Sven cleared his throat. "I am very sorry for all of this, Roma. But we must think of our survival. We will look for your ladies when we get outside, but we must move on before someone realizes what's happening."
Romelle opened her eyes and looked at Sven from over the top of Darla's head. Her beautiful face was filled with an aching grief, her eyes betraying a guilt deep in her heart.
Sven moved to stand next to them, his eyes reflected her profound sorrow. Reaching out, he cupped her face, tenderly stroking his thumb over her cheek. "Please, Princess, the others are gone, but we can save this child. I know your heart is breaking, but we must go."
Her eyes drifted closed as Romelle turned her head into Sven's hand, finding comfort and strength in his touch. Reaching up, she placed her hand over his, entwining their fingers. She held him there for just a moment longer before slowly opening her eyes and meeting his gaze.
It was if time stood still. As if two long-lost lovers had been reunited and now took a moment to affirm their love before facing what could very well be their deaths. Neither Sven nor Romelle knew what to think of these intense and undeniable feelings sparking between them. But, they both knew they would never have a chance to figure this out if they didn't make their way to freedom.
Romelle dropped her hand and Sven did the same before stepping back.
"Come, Darla," the Princess of Pollux said. "We must get you home."
"This way," Romelle said pushing the door open and stepping into a dimly lit room. "There is a chute in the far wall where they dump bodies into the Pit of Skulls."
Sven followed her into the room, but stopped her by reaching out and taking her hand. "How do you know all of this?"
"I overheard the guards talking about...about...they have a room," she tried to explain. "They call it a museum..." her voice trailed off.
"I know," he said simply, "I saw it."
She looked up at him and almost allowed herself the luxury of leaning against his broad chest when a small scratching noise caught her attention. She gave Sven a questioning look as she pointed at the closet door where the sound had originated.
He nodded, acknowledging he'd heard it too. Stepping in front of Romelle, he indicated she should remain close but allow him to take the lead. When she acknowledged him with a quick nod of her head, he lifted three fingers and began to count them down. On three, he leapt forward, brought the ray gun up and swung the door wide.
A tiny, doe-eyed form huddled on the floor of the closet, looking up at Sven as if the entire universe had just crashed down around her. Large tears slipped down her cheeks and she whimpered.
"Darla!" Romelle rushed forward and pulled the young girl out of the cupboard and into a tight hug. "Oh, thank the heavens!"
"Your Majesty!" Darla exclaimed holding on to Romelle with all her might.
"It's okay, child," Romelle soothed. "We are going to get out of here."
With widened eyes and a fearful look Darla took a step back and returned her attention to Sven. Her voice shook, "Princess?"
"It's okay, Darla," Romelle realized the poor girl must be confused by the Drule soldier's uniform. "This is Sven, and he is going to help us to escape!"
"Sven?!" The maid's voice took on an unbelieving note. "As in the Voltron Force pilot Sven who everyone thinks is dead?"
"One and the same," Romelle said.
"What is going on, Roma?" Sven asked, "What is she talking about?"
"It's that long story I was telling you about earlier," Romelle explained. "I promise, Sven, as soon as we are away from here, I will explain."
When Sven nodded his understanding, Romelle returned her attention to her little maid. "We have to get out of here as quickly as possible. Darla, do you know where the others are?"
Darla began to shake, her mouth opened and closed, and at first no noise came out. After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she spoke her words were rushed. "I'm sorry, I tried to stop them."
"What do you mean?" Romelle's heart was growing heavy with dread. "Darla, where are they?"
"We were being held in the cell across the hall."
Romelle glanced at Sven who looked lost and helpless. "And?"
"The guards...they..."
"Go on, child," Romelle encouraged.
"They kept coming into the cell and threatening us. They kept telling us that Prince Lotor was going to throw all of us, including you, into the Pit of Skulls," the girl's voice shook with terror. "When they brought them back to the cell today, they forgot to lock the door."
Romelle felt her stomach drop. "What happened then, Darla?"
One slim arm raised up and the girl pointed at the chute. "They said they would rather take their chances than to wait for someone to kill them and dump their bodies..." she burst into tears again, but continued on. "I said I wouldn't leave without you, but they said they couldn't wait any longer and that you would be better off if you no longer had to worry for us."
"They jumped?" Sven interjected.
"Yes," Darla glanced in his direction but quickly returned her attention to Romelle. "But Princess, I hid. I was waiting for the guards to fall asleep and then I was going to steal their keys and free you."
"You are a good girl, Darla. So very brave." As Romelle spoke, she held out her arms and the little maid rushed in for a hug. Not for the first time, Romelle felt herself in awe of this child and her courage. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to stop the overwhelming need she felt to cry.
'This can't be happening!' She thought fiercely. 'If only we had been here a little sooner-'
Sven cleared his throat. "I am very sorry for all of this, Roma. But we must think of our survival. We will look for your ladies when we get outside, but we must move on before someone realizes what's happening."
Romelle opened her eyes and looked at Sven from over the top of Darla's head. Her beautiful face was filled with an aching grief, her eyes betraying a guilt deep in her heart.
Sven moved to stand next to them, his eyes reflected her profound sorrow. Reaching out, he cupped her face, tenderly stroking his thumb over her cheek. "Please, Princess, the others are gone, but we can save this child. I know your heart is breaking, but we must go."
Her eyes drifted closed as Romelle turned her head into Sven's hand, finding comfort and strength in his touch. Reaching up, she placed her hand over his, entwining their fingers. She held him there for just a moment longer before slowly opening her eyes and meeting his gaze.
It was if time stood still. As if two long-lost lovers had been reunited and now took a moment to affirm their love before facing what could very well be their deaths. Neither Sven nor Romelle knew what to think of these intense and undeniable feelings sparking between them. But, they both knew they would never have a chance to figure this out if they didn't make their way to freedom.
Romelle dropped her hand and Sven did the same before stepping back.
"Come, Darla," the Princess of Pollux said. "We must get you home."
Sven had gone down the chute first. He had instructed Romelle to wait three minutes before sending Darla, after which she was to immediately climb in the chute and slide down herself. Sven had warned the two that once out in the open, there would be no time to hesitate. They would have to make a run for the airship's hanger or risk capture.
Right now, Sven was extremely thankful he had given Romelle those instructions. The few minutes had given him a chance to ensure there was nothing waiting at the bottom for them. More importantly, it had given him a moment to hide the mutilated bodies of what he knew must be Romelle's other two ladies-in-waiting. He felt sickened and decided it was for the best that he kept this to himself, at least for now. He would tell Roma the truth later, but he didn't want her to see the bodies, or to know they had been killed by monstrous robeasts looking for a meal. Her friends half-eaten bodies would only give her more nightmares.
Darla and Romelle appeared behind him with two thuds as they found themselves deposited into the mud.
"Was there any sign of my hand-maids?" Romelle asked as she surveyed the area.
Sven clamped his mouth tightly shut and shook his head.
Romelle gave him a stubborn look. "Then we have to search-"
"Princess, it is too late." His voice brokered no room for argument. "They are gone-"
"How can you know?" She demanded, "Maybe they found a place to hide!"
"It's too late for them," his dark look explained more than his words.
"I see." She looked as if he had struck her.
"Quickly now," Sven whispered as he hid them all behind a large pile of bones. "There is no more time to waste!"
"Are these..." Darla sounded panicked. "Are these people?"
"Look at me," Romelle grabbed the girl's hands, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Darla, you will focus on me, and only me. Do not let go of my hand, do not speak. Look only at me. Nod if you understand."
At her maid's nod, Romelle turned to Sven, "We have to hurry."
Sven looked from the Romelle to Darla, then back to Romelle before nodding his understanding. They were not going to be able to keep the girl calm for too long.
"That building there," Romelle pointed. "The one with the Red roof?"
"I see it."
"That's the hanger where the smaller airships are docked. There were never more than two guards on duty when we would fly in and out of here."
Sven looked at her in confusion but decided not to ask why she had been allowed to come and go freely. Once they were off this damned planet, he would be sure to find out. He sat still, considering how best to reach that hanger with as little attention as possible. Something metallic gleamed across from them and caught his eye - something was buried in the mud.
"Wait here," he said as he crawled over and dug out a thick length of chain. He gathered it up and hurried back to where Romelle and Darla waited. "I have an idea."
Right now, Sven was extremely thankful he had given Romelle those instructions. The few minutes had given him a chance to ensure there was nothing waiting at the bottom for them. More importantly, it had given him a moment to hide the mutilated bodies of what he knew must be Romelle's other two ladies-in-waiting. He felt sickened and decided it was for the best that he kept this to himself, at least for now. He would tell Roma the truth later, but he didn't want her to see the bodies, or to know they had been killed by monstrous robeasts looking for a meal. Her friends half-eaten bodies would only give her more nightmares.
Darla and Romelle appeared behind him with two thuds as they found themselves deposited into the mud.
"Was there any sign of my hand-maids?" Romelle asked as she surveyed the area.
Sven clamped his mouth tightly shut and shook his head.
Romelle gave him a stubborn look. "Then we have to search-"
"Princess, it is too late." His voice brokered no room for argument. "They are gone-"
"How can you know?" She demanded, "Maybe they found a place to hide!"
"It's too late for them," his dark look explained more than his words.
"I see." She looked as if he had struck her.
"Quickly now," Sven whispered as he hid them all behind a large pile of bones. "There is no more time to waste!"
"Are these..." Darla sounded panicked. "Are these people?"
"Look at me," Romelle grabbed the girl's hands, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Darla, you will focus on me, and only me. Do not let go of my hand, do not speak. Look only at me. Nod if you understand."
At her maid's nod, Romelle turned to Sven, "We have to hurry."
Sven looked from the Romelle to Darla, then back to Romelle before nodding his understanding. They were not going to be able to keep the girl calm for too long.
"That building there," Romelle pointed. "The one with the Red roof?"
"I see it."
"That's the hanger where the smaller airships are docked. There were never more than two guards on duty when we would fly in and out of here."
Sven looked at her in confusion but decided not to ask why she had been allowed to come and go freely. Once they were off this damned planet, he would be sure to find out. He sat still, considering how best to reach that hanger with as little attention as possible. Something metallic gleamed across from them and caught his eye - something was buried in the mud.
"Wait here," he said as he crawled over and dug out a thick length of chain. He gathered it up and hurried back to where Romelle and Darla waited. "I have an idea."
Approaching the hanger, Sven kept his head down and his gun leveled at Romelle's back. Their clothes tattered and filthy, the two women looked for all the world like nothing more than bedraggled slaves. Sven had used the chain to wrap around Romelle's waist before having Darla hold one end between her clasped hands. At a glance, it looked as if the two were chained together, but Sven knew even the slightest inspection would give them away. He noted luck was on their side - only one guard stood duty.
"What've you got there?" called the Doomian soldier standing watch.
"Gifts for some fancy-pants on planet Demos," Sven replied; he worried his accent would give him away. "Open the door."
The guard stood still, watching them as they approached. The closer they got, the more certain Sven became that he would be forced to kill this man too. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the guard turned to the key pad, and punched in the entry code. The doors slid open, and as they hurried inside, the soldier met Sven's eyes.
"Fire off a few shots, shoot the panel," the guard indicated the keypad. "I never saw anything, this isn't worth my life."
Sven pointed the gun at the guard's chest, but after a moment, did as asked.
"Not every Drule and Doomian wants this war." The soldier's words were spoken quietly as he quickly moved in the direction opposite the castle.
"What've you got there?" called the Doomian soldier standing watch.
"Gifts for some fancy-pants on planet Demos," Sven replied; he worried his accent would give him away. "Open the door."
The guard stood still, watching them as they approached. The closer they got, the more certain Sven became that he would be forced to kill this man too. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the guard turned to the key pad, and punched in the entry code. The doors slid open, and as they hurried inside, the soldier met Sven's eyes.
"Fire off a few shots, shoot the panel," the guard indicated the keypad. "I never saw anything, this isn't worth my life."
Sven pointed the gun at the guard's chest, but after a moment, did as asked.
"Not every Drule and Doomian wants this war." The soldier's words were spoken quietly as he quickly moved in the direction opposite the castle.
Once inside the airship, Romelle turned to Sven. "Do you think he will give us away?"
"I don't know," Sven replied. "But if we get this thing in the air, it won't matter. We will be free and away from this place within moments."
Romelle nodded and strapped herself into the co-pilot's chair. She pointed to a door at the far end of the ship's bridge. "All right. Darla, through that door are more seats. Strap yourself into one of them."
Sven stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "I don't know how to fly-"
"Yes, you do."
"I-"
"Sit down, Sven, and just let your heart guide you." Romelle's voice was both encouraging and soothing. He remained hesitant and she continued. "Sven, you are one of the best pilots in the entire galaxy!"
Sven slipped into the seat, still unsure. But he knew that had to do something. Closing his eyes, he reached deep down inside of himself, searching for that energy, that light he knew burned within his soul. Keeping his eyes closed, he used his mind's eye to wrap his body in that white light. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and took hold of the ship's controls.
'This feels right,' he thought.
Opening his eyes, he set to work launching their ship. It was as if something inside him had simply burst free, and he knew exactly what needed to be done.
As they lifted off, Romelle felt her body sink back into the seat. Within moments, they were breaking free of Doom's atmosphere and on their way. She watched Sven at the helm, he handled the ship with such ease - his lack of confidence from just a few moments before was gone completely. She knew he could do it!
And, for the first time in months, she also knew everything really would be okay!
"I don't know," Sven replied. "But if we get this thing in the air, it won't matter. We will be free and away from this place within moments."
Romelle nodded and strapped herself into the co-pilot's chair. She pointed to a door at the far end of the ship's bridge. "All right. Darla, through that door are more seats. Strap yourself into one of them."
Sven stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "I don't know how to fly-"
"Yes, you do."
"I-"
"Sit down, Sven, and just let your heart guide you." Romelle's voice was both encouraging and soothing. He remained hesitant and she continued. "Sven, you are one of the best pilots in the entire galaxy!"
Sven slipped into the seat, still unsure. But he knew that had to do something. Closing his eyes, he reached deep down inside of himself, searching for that energy, that light he knew burned within his soul. Keeping his eyes closed, he used his mind's eye to wrap his body in that white light. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and took hold of the ship's controls.
'This feels right,' he thought.
Opening his eyes, he set to work launching their ship. It was as if something inside him had simply burst free, and he knew exactly what needed to be done.
As they lifted off, Romelle felt her body sink back into the seat. Within moments, they were breaking free of Doom's atmosphere and on their way. She watched Sven at the helm, he handled the ship with such ease - his lack of confidence from just a few moments before was gone completely. She knew he could do it!
And, for the first time in months, she also knew everything really would be okay!
"That was much easier than I thought it would be." Sven's voice held a note of relief. "This may sound strange, but I feel like I've done this before."
"We still have to reach a safe place," Romelle countered. "And I recommend Arus be our destination."
Sven programmed the coordinates into the ship's path. Taking a moment, he looked over and studied Romelle's face. "Arus. That is the home-planet of your cousin? The one you said I knew?"
"Yes," Romelle said. "Would you like me to tell you what I know about your past?"
"I would," his voice was quiet, hesitant.
"As I told you before, we did not know one another, but I had heard your tale from my cousin, Princess Allura." Romelle paused to weigh her words. "Allura's family was also murdered by Zarkon's forces, but many years ago when she was just a child."
"This Zarkon is Lotor's father."
"Yes," Romelle confirmed. "Zarkon has been trying to conquer the universe for the last fifty years or so."
"Fifty years?" Sven sounded incredulous. "Wouldn't that make him a very old man?"
"In our life spans, yes it would, but the Drules live for several centuries." Romelle understood his confusion. "That aside, with Allura's father dead, the side of good lost it's greatest defender, Voltron."
"Voltron?" Sven sounded excited. "I do not know what this 'Voltron' is, but I recognize the name."
"Voltron is a mighty robot defender. Our Voltron is made out of five robot lion ships, which when joined together, form Voltron, and Voltron has yet to be defeated." Romelle felt hope well up in her heart - perhaps Sven would remember his life after all!
"I see," he said, although he wasn't sure that he really did.
"When Arus was razed, Princess Allura was just a tiny child. Her father's best friend and royal advisor, along with the royal governess, secreted Allura away and kept her alive all these years. When they were able to come out of hiding, Coran, the royal advisor, began sending transmissions to all known allies in hope that they would send help." Romelle sighed before continuing.
"Unfortunately, with Voltron out of commission, Zarkon and his forces had run amuck throughout the universe and most planets were unable to send help. But the Galaxy Alliance specially trained a team of young cadets and sent them to Arus to help revive Voltron."
Sven listened with rapt attention but was growing impatient. "This is all very interesting, but I don't understand what it has to do with me."
"You were one of those pilots, Sven. You piloted the Blue Lion before my cousin took your place when they believed that you had been killed."
"And why did they think I had been killed?"
"Because Witch Hagar killed you."
"I don't understand." Sven shook his head. "How did she kill me if I am here, alive?"
It was Romelle's turn to shake her head. "I don't have the answers, Sven. I did hear Lotor and Hagar talking about you once, and they mentioned that your memory had been erased. Although, I did get the impression that you had been under some sort of sleeping spell, or perhaps a potion had been used on you. I'm sorry, but that's all I know."
"It is more than I knew an hour ago." Sven studied the ship's control panel. "Perhaps we should try and contact your cousin, I wouldn't want to have our ship mistakenly shot down after everything we have survived."
Romelle thought carefully before she spoke. "I agree, but..."
"What is it, Roma?" Sven felt her concern and reached out to take her hand. "Please speak freely."
"Keith is the Captain of the Voltron Force, Lance is his brother and pilots the Red Lion. The three of you grew up together, you have been friends since childhood."
Sven nodded his encouragement, making it clear he wanted her to continue.
"Hunk, Pidge and Allura are the other three pilots." She looked as though she might cry. "They have believed you dead for almost a year, Sven. This is going to be a terrible shock. Both wondrous news that you are still alive, and at the same time heart breaking news that you no longer know any of them."
"I know you must be right, but I don't see what I can do to change any of this."
Romelle moved over and knelt next to him. She took his hand in both her own and brought it up to her heart. "Sven, I think you should allow me to send a transmission to my cousin, and that we should keep you a secret - just until we land and they can see you with their own eyes."
"I see your point," Sven said. "And I agree. Only, your obvious worry concerns me. I would never be angry over you speaking your mind."
Romelle let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. "I just don't want to hurt you, Sven."
He gave her a roughish grin. "The only way you could hurt me is if I never saw your beautiful smile again, Roma."
With his free hand, Sven reached down and cupped her face, tilting her chin back and smiling into her eyes. When he lowered his head, Romelle closed her eyes and waited with baited breath for his lips to caress her own. Somehow, she wasn't surprised at all when she felt him kiss her cheek before pulling away.
When she opened her eyes, she found the handsome space explorer watching her intently. She blushed under his scrutiny, feeling both excited and embarrassed. As if sensing her mood, Sven caught her hand.
"You deserve better. To be cherished." When she kept her head turned away, Sven added. "You are a woman who must be courted properly."
She turned and looked down her nose at him. "And are you the man who can do so?"
"Perhaps," Sven gave her a look that curled her toes. "In time, I promise we will see."
Romelle felt the flush move up her throat to stain her cheeks. She searched for a snappy comeback but found her tongue tied. She spun on her heel and headed for the ship's state room. "I'm going to check on Darla."
Sven chuckled as the flustered Polluxian Princess slammed the door closed.
"We still have to reach a safe place," Romelle countered. "And I recommend Arus be our destination."
Sven programmed the coordinates into the ship's path. Taking a moment, he looked over and studied Romelle's face. "Arus. That is the home-planet of your cousin? The one you said I knew?"
"Yes," Romelle said. "Would you like me to tell you what I know about your past?"
"I would," his voice was quiet, hesitant.
"As I told you before, we did not know one another, but I had heard your tale from my cousin, Princess Allura." Romelle paused to weigh her words. "Allura's family was also murdered by Zarkon's forces, but many years ago when she was just a child."
"This Zarkon is Lotor's father."
"Yes," Romelle confirmed. "Zarkon has been trying to conquer the universe for the last fifty years or so."
"Fifty years?" Sven sounded incredulous. "Wouldn't that make him a very old man?"
"In our life spans, yes it would, but the Drules live for several centuries." Romelle understood his confusion. "That aside, with Allura's father dead, the side of good lost it's greatest defender, Voltron."
"Voltron?" Sven sounded excited. "I do not know what this 'Voltron' is, but I recognize the name."
"Voltron is a mighty robot defender. Our Voltron is made out of five robot lion ships, which when joined together, form Voltron, and Voltron has yet to be defeated." Romelle felt hope well up in her heart - perhaps Sven would remember his life after all!
"I see," he said, although he wasn't sure that he really did.
"When Arus was razed, Princess Allura was just a tiny child. Her father's best friend and royal advisor, along with the royal governess, secreted Allura away and kept her alive all these years. When they were able to come out of hiding, Coran, the royal advisor, began sending transmissions to all known allies in hope that they would send help." Romelle sighed before continuing.
"Unfortunately, with Voltron out of commission, Zarkon and his forces had run amuck throughout the universe and most planets were unable to send help. But the Galaxy Alliance specially trained a team of young cadets and sent them to Arus to help revive Voltron."
Sven listened with rapt attention but was growing impatient. "This is all very interesting, but I don't understand what it has to do with me."
"You were one of those pilots, Sven. You piloted the Blue Lion before my cousin took your place when they believed that you had been killed."
"And why did they think I had been killed?"
"Because Witch Hagar killed you."
"I don't understand." Sven shook his head. "How did she kill me if I am here, alive?"
It was Romelle's turn to shake her head. "I don't have the answers, Sven. I did hear Lotor and Hagar talking about you once, and they mentioned that your memory had been erased. Although, I did get the impression that you had been under some sort of sleeping spell, or perhaps a potion had been used on you. I'm sorry, but that's all I know."
"It is more than I knew an hour ago." Sven studied the ship's control panel. "Perhaps we should try and contact your cousin, I wouldn't want to have our ship mistakenly shot down after everything we have survived."
Romelle thought carefully before she spoke. "I agree, but..."
"What is it, Roma?" Sven felt her concern and reached out to take her hand. "Please speak freely."
"Keith is the Captain of the Voltron Force, Lance is his brother and pilots the Red Lion. The three of you grew up together, you have been friends since childhood."
Sven nodded his encouragement, making it clear he wanted her to continue.
"Hunk, Pidge and Allura are the other three pilots." She looked as though she might cry. "They have believed you dead for almost a year, Sven. This is going to be a terrible shock. Both wondrous news that you are still alive, and at the same time heart breaking news that you no longer know any of them."
"I know you must be right, but I don't see what I can do to change any of this."
Romelle moved over and knelt next to him. She took his hand in both her own and brought it up to her heart. "Sven, I think you should allow me to send a transmission to my cousin, and that we should keep you a secret - just until we land and they can see you with their own eyes."
"I see your point," Sven said. "And I agree. Only, your obvious worry concerns me. I would never be angry over you speaking your mind."
Romelle let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. "I just don't want to hurt you, Sven."
He gave her a roughish grin. "The only way you could hurt me is if I never saw your beautiful smile again, Roma."
With his free hand, Sven reached down and cupped her face, tilting her chin back and smiling into her eyes. When he lowered his head, Romelle closed her eyes and waited with baited breath for his lips to caress her own. Somehow, she wasn't surprised at all when she felt him kiss her cheek before pulling away.
When she opened her eyes, she found the handsome space explorer watching her intently. She blushed under his scrutiny, feeling both excited and embarrassed. As if sensing her mood, Sven caught her hand.
"You deserve better. To be cherished." When she kept her head turned away, Sven added. "You are a woman who must be courted properly."
She turned and looked down her nose at him. "And are you the man who can do so?"
"Perhaps," Sven gave her a look that curled her toes. "In time, I promise we will see."
Romelle felt the flush move up her throat to stain her cheeks. She searched for a snappy comeback but found her tongue tied. She spun on her heel and headed for the ship's state room. "I'm going to check on Darla."
Sven chuckled as the flustered Polluxian Princess slammed the door closed.
"Planet Arus, please come in...This is Princess Romelle of Planet Pollux hailing Castle Control"
Romelle felt her heart jump into her throat and tears sting the backs of her eyelids when the view screen flickered to life and Coran's wizened face appeared. As always, his voice was cultured and commanding when he spoke.
"Castle Control here," Coran leaned in and studied Romelle's image. "Princess Romelle, is that really you?!"
"Oh, Coran!" Romelle could no longer hold back her tears. "Thank the heavens! Please, I need your help. I've escaped Lotor and I'm in a Doom airship, about to enter Arussian air space."
"Thank the heavens indeed, Your Highness!" Coran sounded jubilant. "I will ping your ship and send troops out to meet you. Are you alone?"
"No, sir. There are two other prisoners who escaped with me, but I know they can both be trusted."
"I see," Coran seemed worried regardless. "Are you being pursued?"
"I'm sure that they are looking for us now, but we were able to make a quick escape and I don't think they were alerted right away."
Coran nodded. "Good. But I will send one of the lions out to meet you just to be sure."
"Thank you," Romelle looked as if she had more to say. "Coran, my brother...? Do you know if, if he's..."
"Yes, my dear, Prince Bandor is alive and well. He has been working hard to regain control of your home world." Coran understood the young woman's pain, he had lost his wife and son to Zarkon's evil ways many years before. "But we will discuss this further when you are safely inside the castle's walls."
"Of course," Romelle smiled her thanks and cut the transmission.
Coran leaned back in his chair for just a moment. Thank the universe Romelle had survived, but for all the stars in the sky, he felt as if she were holding something back. He stood and shrugged off the feeling. He would have to work quickly to ensure all the proper arrangements were made to welcome the young monarch.
Romelle felt her heart jump into her throat and tears sting the backs of her eyelids when the view screen flickered to life and Coran's wizened face appeared. As always, his voice was cultured and commanding when he spoke.
"Castle Control here," Coran leaned in and studied Romelle's image. "Princess Romelle, is that really you?!"
"Oh, Coran!" Romelle could no longer hold back her tears. "Thank the heavens! Please, I need your help. I've escaped Lotor and I'm in a Doom airship, about to enter Arussian air space."
"Thank the heavens indeed, Your Highness!" Coran sounded jubilant. "I will ping your ship and send troops out to meet you. Are you alone?"
"No, sir. There are two other prisoners who escaped with me, but I know they can both be trusted."
"I see," Coran seemed worried regardless. "Are you being pursued?"
"I'm sure that they are looking for us now, but we were able to make a quick escape and I don't think they were alerted right away."
Coran nodded. "Good. But I will send one of the lions out to meet you just to be sure."
"Thank you," Romelle looked as if she had more to say. "Coran, my brother...? Do you know if, if he's..."
"Yes, my dear, Prince Bandor is alive and well. He has been working hard to regain control of your home world." Coran understood the young woman's pain, he had lost his wife and son to Zarkon's evil ways many years before. "But we will discuss this further when you are safely inside the castle's walls."
"Of course," Romelle smiled her thanks and cut the transmission.
Coran leaned back in his chair for just a moment. Thank the universe Romelle had survived, but for all the stars in the sky, he felt as if she were holding something back. He stood and shrugged off the feeling. He would have to work quickly to ensure all the proper arrangements were made to welcome the young monarch.
"That seemed to go well."
"Yes," Romelle answered through her tears. "We should prepare to enter the atmosphere and land this thing."
"It is good news that your brother lives."
"It is," it was taking all of her self control to keep from breaking down. "He is the only family I have left, besides my cousin, Allura."
"I am sorry, Roma."
"I can't talk about this anymore, Sven." She looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. "Maybe we can talk in the coming days, after we have had some time to rest."
"Of course," Sven said as the two traded places; Romelle moving back into the co-pilot's chair and Sven back into the pilot's seat.
"Let's go home, Princess."
"Yes," Romelle answered through her tears. "We should prepare to enter the atmosphere and land this thing."
"It is good news that your brother lives."
"It is," it was taking all of her self control to keep from breaking down. "He is the only family I have left, besides my cousin, Allura."
"I am sorry, Roma."
"I can't talk about this anymore, Sven." She looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. "Maybe we can talk in the coming days, after we have had some time to rest."
"Of course," Sven said as the two traded places; Romelle moving back into the co-pilot's chair and Sven back into the pilot's seat.
"Let's go home, Princess."
It was a bumpy landing. Not terrible, but they had been knocked around a bit. Darla stepped onto the bridge as Sven and Romelle unbuckled their seat belts.
"So, that's a Lion Ship?" Sven looked from Darla to Romelle for confirmation. They both nodded.
"That's the Yellow Lion piloted by Hunk," Darla blushed. "He's really quite handsome!"
Sven and Romelle looked at each other before breaking into laughter. The sound was beautiful, especially after their horrifying experiences.
"Well, he is!" Darla insisted.
"He is, Darla." Romelle agreed. "Now, why don't we head outside and you can meet him in person?"
For a second it looked like the girl might swoon, but she didn't and before another word could be uttered, she stood by the hatch waiting for it to be opened.
As Sven pushed the button to open the door and lower the ramp, Romelle gave him one more encouraging smile.
"Now, remember to let me do the talking at first, Sven."
Sven agreed and the two women started down the ramp. Darla stayed at Romelle's side as they stepped out into the sunshine. Sven remained a few steps back, hidden by the shadows. He took the opportunity to survey the situation. Nothing looked threatening, but he wouldn't allow any more harm to come to his Roma.
"Princess!" Hunk called as he ran across the open field where all their ships now sat. He rushed forward, ready to scoop Romelle up into a giant bear hug but found himself instead looking at the business end of a ray gun being pointed at him by a Drule soldier.
"What the-" Hunk spat out as he reached for his own gun.
Romelle rushed to stop Sven who had moved to stand between herself and Hunk. She placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Please, he is a friend."
"I will not allow you to harm the Princess."
Hunk's gun fell into the soft grass. He knew that voice, that accent. He shaded his eyes and tried to make out the man's features.
"Sven?"
"Yes, Hunk," Romelle confirmed. "It's him, but he has no memory of his life."
Hunk continued forward at a slower pace. When he got close enough to make out the other man's features, he stopped and stood completely still. After a moment, he reached up and wiped away a tear. "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"
"Sven," Romelle admonished. "Lower your weapon. Hunk means no harm!"
After a brief hesitation, Sven did as Romelle asked. "I am sorry, I mean no offense."
Never one to be shy, Hunk stepped over and crushed Sven in a giant hug. "You might not remember me, buddy, but you've been one of my best friends for a long time." He released Sven and turned to Romelle.
"I don't know what the devil is going on, but let's get you all back to the castle for some hot food and clean clothes. I know your cousin is dyin' to see you! Coran had to threaten to lock her in her room to keep her from coming out to meet you herself!"
Romelle laughed. "Hunk, you read my mind!"
"So, that's a Lion Ship?" Sven looked from Darla to Romelle for confirmation. They both nodded.
"That's the Yellow Lion piloted by Hunk," Darla blushed. "He's really quite handsome!"
Sven and Romelle looked at each other before breaking into laughter. The sound was beautiful, especially after their horrifying experiences.
"Well, he is!" Darla insisted.
"He is, Darla." Romelle agreed. "Now, why don't we head outside and you can meet him in person?"
For a second it looked like the girl might swoon, but she didn't and before another word could be uttered, she stood by the hatch waiting for it to be opened.
As Sven pushed the button to open the door and lower the ramp, Romelle gave him one more encouraging smile.
"Now, remember to let me do the talking at first, Sven."
Sven agreed and the two women started down the ramp. Darla stayed at Romelle's side as they stepped out into the sunshine. Sven remained a few steps back, hidden by the shadows. He took the opportunity to survey the situation. Nothing looked threatening, but he wouldn't allow any more harm to come to his Roma.
"Princess!" Hunk called as he ran across the open field where all their ships now sat. He rushed forward, ready to scoop Romelle up into a giant bear hug but found himself instead looking at the business end of a ray gun being pointed at him by a Drule soldier.
"What the-" Hunk spat out as he reached for his own gun.
Romelle rushed to stop Sven who had moved to stand between herself and Hunk. She placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Please, he is a friend."
"I will not allow you to harm the Princess."
Hunk's gun fell into the soft grass. He knew that voice, that accent. He shaded his eyes and tried to make out the man's features.
"Sven?"
"Yes, Hunk," Romelle confirmed. "It's him, but he has no memory of his life."
Hunk continued forward at a slower pace. When he got close enough to make out the other man's features, he stopped and stood completely still. After a moment, he reached up and wiped away a tear. "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"
"Sven," Romelle admonished. "Lower your weapon. Hunk means no harm!"
After a brief hesitation, Sven did as Romelle asked. "I am sorry, I mean no offense."
Never one to be shy, Hunk stepped over and crushed Sven in a giant hug. "You might not remember me, buddy, but you've been one of my best friends for a long time." He released Sven and turned to Romelle.
"I don't know what the devil is going on, but let's get you all back to the castle for some hot food and clean clothes. I know your cousin is dyin' to see you! Coran had to threaten to lock her in her room to keep her from coming out to meet you herself!"
Romelle laughed. "Hunk, you read my mind!"
Several days had passed since Romelle's return. The afternoon found Allura and Romelle sitting together on a plush settee in Allura's private sun room. The room was quiet, which suited their moods, and filled with sunshine, which lifted their spirits. They sat close enough that their shoulders brushed, and they both basked in the warmth of their familial love for one another.
Allura reached over and held Romelle's hand. "Bandor will be here tomorrow."
Romelle smiled. "It will be so good to see him."
Quiet once more washed over the room and the two sat in silence for some time. When Allura spoke, her voice shook.
"I- I still can't believe Sven is alive."
When Hunk had returned to the castle with Romelle, they had all been ecstatic. When Hunk stepped aside and they all saw Sven...
You could have heard a pin drop.
At first she wondered if it were some kind of trick, but one look in Sven's eyes and she had no doubt it was really him. She had rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, while tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Sven had returned the hug, but hesitantly. When Allura stepped away from her old friend, she looked at her cousin and the two women rushed to each other, holding on as if they might never let go.
She thought about the rest of the team...Keith had looked baffled, relieved and concerned all at once. Pidge had dashed forward and jumped onto Sven's back in what was a strange show of affection. But Lance, poor Lance, had fallen to his knees and began to pray.
Lance had been so torn apart by Sven's death. For months after the incident, Lance had tortured himself, placing all the blame onto his own shoulders. It was only recently that he had started to come around and work through his grief.
"I wouldn't have been able to escape without his help."
Romelle's voice cut into Allura's musings. The Princess of Arus looked over at her cousin and felt her heart sink just a little. Although each day brought a little more color to Romelle's cheeks, her skin remained pale and her eyes were shadowed by dark rings. The two had been sharing a room because Romelle didn't want to sleep in alone, and Allura knew her cousin only slept a few hours each night. There had been many times when she had awoken to find Romelle sitting near the window, looking out at the night sky and silently crying.
It worried Allura, and she hated Lotor more than ever for putting her cousin through such torment, even though she didn't know what that torment was. Maybe one day, Romelle would talk to her, but for now, when asked, the Princess of Pollux would just smile sadly and reply that she needed some time.
"Allura?"
"Yes."
"My maid, Darla?" Romelle turned to face her cousin. "When I return to Pollux, I would like her to stay here with you."
"Of course!" Allura was happy to help in any way she could. "What about her family?"
Romelle shook her head sadly. "They were killed along with my father. She has no one. But she has told me how wonderful she's been treated here, and that your Nanny has taken her under her wing. It would be good for her to remain here, where she could have stability and find new friends."
"I will make sure she is well looked after."
"Thank you," Romelle's voice held a sad note; she would miss Darla. "She is a wonderful girl, courageous and loyal."
Allura leaned over and hugged Romelle. "Why don't you stay, too, Roma?"
"I can't." Romelle pulled away to meet Allura's eyes. "You know what it's like to have your planet under siege. I must fight for my people."
Allura nodded. "Then know you have my full support, as well as Voltron to defend you! If you need us, dear cousin, you must only ask."
"There is one more thing I would ask from you."
"What is it, Romelle?"
"Sven wants to come with me back to Pollux, but he's uncertain of his duties here."
Allura swallowed hard. "Keith said that the Galaxy Alliance is working to allow Sven to resign his commission with them. We will all hate to see him go, but I would never ask him to stay here when he could do so much good for Pollux."
Romelle smiled. "Thank you, I told Sven you would say as much."
"Besides, I think it would help you to have him nearby." Allura looked at her cousin from the corner of her eye. "I've noticed the way you two look at each other!"
"Allura!" Romelle gasped. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
The Princess of Arus began to giggle at the dark pink stain on her cousin's face. She took a chance and nudged Romelle in the ribs with her elbow. "You can't hide it from me!"
Romelle giggled before making an attempt to sit up straight and ignore her cousin.
"He is awfully handsome, Roma. And I can tell he's sweet on you!"
Romelle broke into a huge grin. "Do you think so?"
"Oh, I do, cousin! I do!"
Allura blew a kiss at Romelle and winked lewdly. Both of the young women erupted into laughter, the sound filling the room with a tinkling music that had been missing from both their hearts for some time.
Maybe, everything was going to be all right after all.
Allura reached over and held Romelle's hand. "Bandor will be here tomorrow."
Romelle smiled. "It will be so good to see him."
Quiet once more washed over the room and the two sat in silence for some time. When Allura spoke, her voice shook.
"I- I still can't believe Sven is alive."
When Hunk had returned to the castle with Romelle, they had all been ecstatic. When Hunk stepped aside and they all saw Sven...
You could have heard a pin drop.
At first she wondered if it were some kind of trick, but one look in Sven's eyes and she had no doubt it was really him. She had rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, while tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Sven had returned the hug, but hesitantly. When Allura stepped away from her old friend, she looked at her cousin and the two women rushed to each other, holding on as if they might never let go.
She thought about the rest of the team...Keith had looked baffled, relieved and concerned all at once. Pidge had dashed forward and jumped onto Sven's back in what was a strange show of affection. But Lance, poor Lance, had fallen to his knees and began to pray.
Lance had been so torn apart by Sven's death. For months after the incident, Lance had tortured himself, placing all the blame onto his own shoulders. It was only recently that he had started to come around and work through his grief.
"I wouldn't have been able to escape without his help."
Romelle's voice cut into Allura's musings. The Princess of Arus looked over at her cousin and felt her heart sink just a little. Although each day brought a little more color to Romelle's cheeks, her skin remained pale and her eyes were shadowed by dark rings. The two had been sharing a room because Romelle didn't want to sleep in alone, and Allura knew her cousin only slept a few hours each night. There had been many times when she had awoken to find Romelle sitting near the window, looking out at the night sky and silently crying.
It worried Allura, and she hated Lotor more than ever for putting her cousin through such torment, even though she didn't know what that torment was. Maybe one day, Romelle would talk to her, but for now, when asked, the Princess of Pollux would just smile sadly and reply that she needed some time.
"Allura?"
"Yes."
"My maid, Darla?" Romelle turned to face her cousin. "When I return to Pollux, I would like her to stay here with you."
"Of course!" Allura was happy to help in any way she could. "What about her family?"
Romelle shook her head sadly. "They were killed along with my father. She has no one. But she has told me how wonderful she's been treated here, and that your Nanny has taken her under her wing. It would be good for her to remain here, where she could have stability and find new friends."
"I will make sure she is well looked after."
"Thank you," Romelle's voice held a sad note; she would miss Darla. "She is a wonderful girl, courageous and loyal."
Allura leaned over and hugged Romelle. "Why don't you stay, too, Roma?"
"I can't." Romelle pulled away to meet Allura's eyes. "You know what it's like to have your planet under siege. I must fight for my people."
Allura nodded. "Then know you have my full support, as well as Voltron to defend you! If you need us, dear cousin, you must only ask."
"There is one more thing I would ask from you."
"What is it, Romelle?"
"Sven wants to come with me back to Pollux, but he's uncertain of his duties here."
Allura swallowed hard. "Keith said that the Galaxy Alliance is working to allow Sven to resign his commission with them. We will all hate to see him go, but I would never ask him to stay here when he could do so much good for Pollux."
Romelle smiled. "Thank you, I told Sven you would say as much."
"Besides, I think it would help you to have him nearby." Allura looked at her cousin from the corner of her eye. "I've noticed the way you two look at each other!"
"Allura!" Romelle gasped. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
The Princess of Arus began to giggle at the dark pink stain on her cousin's face. She took a chance and nudged Romelle in the ribs with her elbow. "You can't hide it from me!"
Romelle giggled before making an attempt to sit up straight and ignore her cousin.
"He is awfully handsome, Roma. And I can tell he's sweet on you!"
Romelle broke into a huge grin. "Do you think so?"
"Oh, I do, cousin! I do!"
Allura blew a kiss at Romelle and winked lewdly. Both of the young women erupted into laughter, the sound filling the room with a tinkling music that had been missing from both their hearts for some time.
Maybe, everything was going to be all right after all.
It was the first time in a week that Lotor had ventured from his rooms. He had been humiliated by that damned space explorer, and worse, by that harlot. He had been made a laughing stock among his men and had sworn his vengeance. One day he would slit both their throats and watch them bleed out.
But, today, his father had ordered him to the throne room for the evening meal. He could still hear the old man's voice.
"No more skulking about, Lotor, my boy. The sooner you return to a normal routine, the sooner everyone will forget your latest blunder."
So he had bathed and dressed in his finest uniform. He strapped on his scabbard and placed his sword at his hip before taking one last look at himself in the mirror and admired his visage.
He looked at the time and sighed. He'd better hurry or he'd never hear the end of it from his father.
But, today, his father had ordered him to the throne room for the evening meal. He could still hear the old man's voice.
"No more skulking about, Lotor, my boy. The sooner you return to a normal routine, the sooner everyone will forget your latest blunder."
So he had bathed and dressed in his finest uniform. He strapped on his scabbard and placed his sword at his hip before taking one last look at himself in the mirror and admired his visage.
He looked at the time and sighed. He'd better hurry or he'd never hear the end of it from his father.
"There you are," Zarkon bellowed as Lotor entered the nearly empty throne room. "It's about time!"
"Where is everyone?" Lotor looked around in confusion.
"Do you really think I would want to dine with a fool like you in front of my entire army?"
Lotor eyed his father suspiciously. "You demanded I join you for dinner, Father."
"I did." Zarkon met Lotor's glare and laughed. "You might be a buffoon, but you are still my son."
Lotor strode up the stairs and seated himself across the royal dining table from his father. He had no more than placed his napkin across his lap when he heard a cackling voice come from behind.
"Well, look who it is! Lover-boy!"
"I don't need your commentary, hag."
Hagar simply laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.
"Now, now," Zarkon cut in. "Both of you sit down and shut up."
"Of course, Sire," Hagar took her seat to Zarkon's right. "I was just excited to see that Prince Lotor had decided to join us this evening. I've missed his witty humor."
Lotor kept any comments to himself as slaves scurried about placing food on their plates and filling their glasses with wine. The meal continued on in silence for quite some time before the King of Doom spoke up.
"So, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"Hagar's magic failed me once more, Father!" Lotor cried out. "She assured me that the space explorer had no memory."
Hagar sputtered, but for once, she didn't have to defend herself.
"Your problem wasn't that damned space explorer, Lotor!" Zarkon shouted. "Your problem is your obsession with women, especially that Arussian Princess."
"Leave Princess Allura out of this, Father." Lotor's tone had become angry. "She will be my bride."
Zarkon made a derisive noise that sound a lot like a snort. "That other girl, the one from Pollux, she looked just like her, and you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You had to show her off like some damned trophy."
"I wasn't showing her off-"
"Well, whatever it was you were doing, I hope she was worth it."
When Lotor refused to meet his glare and remained silent, Zarkon looked stunned.
"Lotor, don't tell me, you didn't even have your way with her."
Hagar just couldn't help herself. "I thought you said she was your "lover," My Prince. I thought she had agreed to become your Royal Concubine."
Lotor turned his glare onto the old hag and for just a moment, she actually felt a little fear. But it was only a little bit of fear, and it faded quickly.
"Shut up, you old bag!"
Lotor's ire filled Hagar with absolute glee! "I'm sorry, my Prince, I was just thinking how I never had the chance to ask her what happens to a woman when you tire of her games."
"I was trying to encourage her to give herself over willingly!"
"Lotor, you damned fool." Zarkon shook his head. "How many times have I told you, when you want a human woman, you just hold her down and take her. They are like animals. They're too stupid to understand anything else. Just hold her still and screw her."
Lotor's temper got the best of him. "Like you did to my mother?"
"That's exactly what I did to her, boy."
The Prince of Doom stood and stared his father down. "My mother was a Queen on her own world."
"And a whore on mine." Zarkon replied without missing a beat. "You are my son and it's time you started acting like it."
The Prince of Doom felt an all-consuming fury burning through his bones. Knocking his chair aside, he turned on his heel and stalked away. One day soon, the old man wouldn't be watching, and Lotor would put a knife right in his back. When he reached the door, he turned to give his father and the old witch a nasty glare.
"I may be your son," Lotor muttered under his breath. "But I will never be a monster like you."
"Where is everyone?" Lotor looked around in confusion.
"Do you really think I would want to dine with a fool like you in front of my entire army?"
Lotor eyed his father suspiciously. "You demanded I join you for dinner, Father."
"I did." Zarkon met Lotor's glare and laughed. "You might be a buffoon, but you are still my son."
Lotor strode up the stairs and seated himself across the royal dining table from his father. He had no more than placed his napkin across his lap when he heard a cackling voice come from behind.
"Well, look who it is! Lover-boy!"
"I don't need your commentary, hag."
Hagar simply laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.
"Now, now," Zarkon cut in. "Both of you sit down and shut up."
"Of course, Sire," Hagar took her seat to Zarkon's right. "I was just excited to see that Prince Lotor had decided to join us this evening. I've missed his witty humor."
Lotor kept any comments to himself as slaves scurried about placing food on their plates and filling their glasses with wine. The meal continued on in silence for quite some time before the King of Doom spoke up.
"So, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"Hagar's magic failed me once more, Father!" Lotor cried out. "She assured me that the space explorer had no memory."
Hagar sputtered, but for once, she didn't have to defend herself.
"Your problem wasn't that damned space explorer, Lotor!" Zarkon shouted. "Your problem is your obsession with women, especially that Arussian Princess."
"Leave Princess Allura out of this, Father." Lotor's tone had become angry. "She will be my bride."
Zarkon made a derisive noise that sound a lot like a snort. "That other girl, the one from Pollux, she looked just like her, and you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You had to show her off like some damned trophy."
"I wasn't showing her off-"
"Well, whatever it was you were doing, I hope she was worth it."
When Lotor refused to meet his glare and remained silent, Zarkon looked stunned.
"Lotor, don't tell me, you didn't even have your way with her."
Hagar just couldn't help herself. "I thought you said she was your "lover," My Prince. I thought she had agreed to become your Royal Concubine."
Lotor turned his glare onto the old hag and for just a moment, she actually felt a little fear. But it was only a little bit of fear, and it faded quickly.
"Shut up, you old bag!"
Lotor's ire filled Hagar with absolute glee! "I'm sorry, my Prince, I was just thinking how I never had the chance to ask her what happens to a woman when you tire of her games."
"I was trying to encourage her to give herself over willingly!"
"Lotor, you damned fool." Zarkon shook his head. "How many times have I told you, when you want a human woman, you just hold her down and take her. They are like animals. They're too stupid to understand anything else. Just hold her still and screw her."
Lotor's temper got the best of him. "Like you did to my mother?"
"That's exactly what I did to her, boy."
The Prince of Doom stood and stared his father down. "My mother was a Queen on her own world."
"And a whore on mine." Zarkon replied without missing a beat. "You are my son and it's time you started acting like it."
The Prince of Doom felt an all-consuming fury burning through his bones. Knocking his chair aside, he turned on his heel and stalked away. One day soon, the old man wouldn't be watching, and Lotor would put a knife right in his back. When he reached the door, he turned to give his father and the old witch a nasty glare.
"I may be your son," Lotor muttered under his breath. "But I will never be a monster like you."
Zarkon watched as his son stormed out of the room. 'It's always the same with that boy. 'Blah, blah, little pink princess, blah.' It has to end.'
"I grow tired of his constant blabbering over that girl."
"I seem to remember you being much the same way when it came to his mother, Zarkon." Hagar watched the old king as he mulled things over.
"I was," he began, "but I never let my desires for any woman get in the way of my greater plans."
"Of course, Sire."
"I could just kill the girl and get it over with."
"You could."
"But then I don't think that boy would ever shut up. He needs to get his lust for her out of his system."
Hagar's scratchy voice sounded thoughtful. "I can help him to capture his prize that way he can do as he pleases with her and get it out of his system, as you say."
Zarkon looked over at the crone. "I hear a 'but' coming, Hagar."
"He is half human, Zarkon." Hagar chose her words carefully. "Perhaps he has more of his mother's spirit in him than suits you."
"Spit it out, what are you trying to say, Witch?"
"Maybe, Prince Lotor really does love the Princess Allura."
King Zarkon sat quietly and thought about his son's behavior. He took his time, chewing on a turkey leg while he left Hagar to wait until he was good and ready to continue the conversation. When he finished eating, he dropped the bone onto his plate.
"You may be right, Hagar. But I will not allow my son to run about the galaxy making a fool out of me at every turn just because of some pretty face. So how do we get rid of that worthless girl?"
End
"I grow tired of his constant blabbering over that girl."
"I seem to remember you being much the same way when it came to his mother, Zarkon." Hagar watched the old king as he mulled things over.
"I was," he began, "but I never let my desires for any woman get in the way of my greater plans."
"Of course, Sire."
"I could just kill the girl and get it over with."
"You could."
"But then I don't think that boy would ever shut up. He needs to get his lust for her out of his system."
Hagar's scratchy voice sounded thoughtful. "I can help him to capture his prize that way he can do as he pleases with her and get it out of his system, as you say."
Zarkon looked over at the crone. "I hear a 'but' coming, Hagar."
"He is half human, Zarkon." Hagar chose her words carefully. "Perhaps he has more of his mother's spirit in him than suits you."
"Spit it out, what are you trying to say, Witch?"
"Maybe, Prince Lotor really does love the Princess Allura."
King Zarkon sat quietly and thought about his son's behavior. He took his time, chewing on a turkey leg while he left Hagar to wait until he was good and ready to continue the conversation. When he finished eating, he dropped the bone onto his plate.
"You may be right, Hagar. But I will not allow my son to run about the galaxy making a fool out of me at every turn just because of some pretty face. So how do we get rid of that worthless girl?"
End
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Please Note
"The Lion's Keep: The Next Chapter" is the most recent version of the "The Lion's Keep",
and was originally established November 08, 1999
Disclaimers
Voltron: Defender Of The Universe, Vehicle Voltron,
Voltron The Third Dimension, Voltron Force
Voltron: Legendary Defender
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I can't help it... I ❤ love ❤ Voltron!