Author's Note: Ok this is my first fan fic in 14 years, so bear with me. LXA pairing (and not at all KXA friendly). This is not a very happy story. It is a dark story. There are major character deaths. (Please note the plural). There are descriptions of the aftermath of extreme violence. There will be reluctance/non-con situations.
So if you find any of these things upsetting or triggering, please don't read it.
OMG nearly forgot - I do not own Voltron or any of its characters, settings, etc.
Allura's glassy eyes fixated on the snowflakes as they meandered down from the gray sky, and for a brief moment everything seemed well with the universe. Winter and snow had always brought her comfort; huddling around the fire; drinking hot chocolate. One of her last happy memories before the war began was of winter. Her mother had helped her build a snowman in the palace garden. Nanny insisted Allura was too old for such frivolity and should be focusing on her studies (for all the good they did her now). However, perhaps aware of the horrors that were bound to come, the queen ignored the governess and played with her daughter. Allura tried to remember how old she was then but couldn't. Her thoughts began to scramble and it became harder and harder for her to focus. A now all too familiar sensation began to take hold.
Her fist clenched as a pain ripped through her entire body and a sound began to emanate from her. It started as a simpering moan before quickly transitioning into a roaring scream. At this point the others in the room turned toward her, including him. How she wanted to gauge out those golden eyes. This was his doing. They returned to their hushed conversations, taking great pains to insure she did not overhear what they were saying. But she knew they were talking about her and what was to be done to her. Their eyes looked at a series of monitors and would glance at her for only the briefest of moments. Craning her head she tried to see what they were looking at but she couldn't. All she could see was the small puddle of her blood at the foot on the table.
Allura felt so at their mercy and she hated it. Oh, if she could only make them feel what she felt. She could see a table with bizarre looking metal instruments. At the moment, she didn't know their purpose other than they were going to be used on her. Some were sharp enough that if she could get just one, she could maim that handsome blue face of his. Yes, she would enjoy that!
Before she could indulge her fantasy any further, another scream erupted from her as every fiber of her being resonated fire and tightness. Perhaps if everything else didn't hurt she would have realized how raw her throat had become from the screams. Her breathing degraded to hisses and she didn't even attempt to moderate the sobs flowing from her. She swore she would be dignified about this but nothing had prepared her for the pain.
Lotor walked toward where she laid. He attempted to stand next to her. Allura convinced it was so he could admire his handy work. Before he could get his satisfaction, she began swinging her arms and he halted.
"I don't want you near me!" she hissed through clenched teeth. Looking at her, her long golden mane matted and unkempt, her eyes bulged out, one would have thought her a feral animal. But she didn't care. Let them think what they wanted of her. If she could just reach that stupid table, then she would show him.
"Should we restrain her, your majesty?" one of the others asked. Perhaps, they had read her thoughts and knew her intentions.
He rolled his eyes as if he would need protecting from her, which only infuriated her. He approached her again, this time without outburst; the pain wracking her body nearing a peak. He picked up the washcloth sitting in a bowl of ice water and dabbed her forehead with it. She only just became aware her hair was soaked from sweat. The king knelt beside her and leaned in toward her ear, whispering, "These…exertions are only making things worse."
"Make it stop," she begged, her words punctuated by sobs.
"It's a little late for that, love," he laughed, kissing her forehead.
"Don't touch me," she cried, snapping her head toward the falling snow again. The fucking bastard was laughing at her!
Focus! She tried to find comfort from the snow as it fell peacefully to the ground. But alas, she couldn't. All she could think of was how this all began in the snow.