A/N

Hello readers!

Voltron: Legendary Defenders has become a recent favorite of mine, and though I know relatively little compared to the true fans out there who have followed even the original shows, I still wanted to contribute to this lovely fandom with a story of my own! I haven't even finished season 3 yet of the series, mind you, so what you read here is not cannon (to my knowledge). I merely exercised some creative liberties for my own amusement, and hopefully for yours as well. Thanks for clicking! The summary is pretty much self-explanatory. Enjoy!

-2Tame a River

Betrothed

Chapter One

...

What a discovery! Lotor could scarcely remain seated within his command console chair. What gods had planned this blessed coincidence? Had the fates looked down upon his hard life's labors and determined to pay him his proper dues, he could scarcely still be worthy of the incredible fortune that now befell him. It was simply too good to be true.

General Acxa, who was ever so perceptive, could not help but approach Lotor's chair warily. The startling display of ecstasy on her prince's usually stoic features was greatly disconcerting.

"Sir? Dare I even ask what has brought you into such a pleasant mood?"

"Ask you may, but an answer I cannot give at present. I must ensure that my suspicions are in fact, correct," the prince replied evenly. Once again resuming his usual temperance, he stood from his chair. "I owe a visit to our prisoner. Mind the helm and do not disturb me for any reason," he commanded, making for the exit of the bridge. Then, he paused as if remembering something, and turned to dawn one of his slow, sly smiles. "Save for the arrival of our good friends the paladins, of course," and with a furl of his cape tails, he waltzed off, shouting, "I have no doubt they are scrambling to enact a rescue plan for their beloved Blue Lion and its paladin, Princess Allura!"

Generals Acxa, Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti looked at each other with mutual surprise and delight.

"Is it just me or did he just say princess?!" Ezor exclaimed.

"I heard it too," Acxa assured. Narti's cat, Kova, meowed loudly, swishing his tail.

"With the Altean Princess our prisoner, there is nothing Voltron won't do to secure her safety," Zethrid proclaimed, lifting a victorious fist in the air. "We shall soon have the greatest weapon in the universe begging for our mercy!"

"This calls for a great celebration!" Ezor announced, cartwheeling her way out of the brig and returning scarcely thirty seconds later with a bottle of fizzy and four small glasses. After promptly filling and distributing the alcoholic beverage to each of her companions, Ezor lifted her glass to the air.

"To Prince Lotor and the Galra Empire!"

"Where did you get this?" Acxa demanded.

"No matter! Drink!" Ezor insisted, throwing back her head to down her shot glass. Zethrid eagerly followed her example, and with a sigh of resignation, so did Acxa.

"Whatever it is, it's fantastic!" Zethrid praised, pouring herself another round. Narti, however, simply held her full glass.

"Narti!" Ezor admonished, "I said drink- OH, right. Sorry!" she grimaced, liberating the masked assassin of her bubbly. Without a second thought, Ezor drank it for her.

...

Well, Allura reflected, as far as prisons go, this is far beyond anything I had expected.

Her cell was not only sparklingly clean, but only a half hour upon her imprisonment, she had been presented with a fully dressed dining table, set for two. No guards had attempted to shackle her, but instead, one had arrived to inquire how she would like her meal prepared: blackened, medium, or rare. Completely puzzled at this strange inquiry, Allura answered, "Medium," through stupefied lips.
"Very good madam. If you please, be seated. His excellency will be joining you shortly," replied the guard, who then turned and exited the cell. Had he been wearing an apron? Allura slowly came to seat herself at the table, gawking at the illustrious dining set of dishes and silverware before her. Was this some sort of dream?

Of the countless other undesirable places she had been subjected to throughout these last hectic months, she had in no way been prepared to be greeted by such extravagancy upon an enemy ship. Especially when that enemy ship was Galra.

Upon my word, Prince Lotor certainly knows how to make his prisoners feel welcome, thought Allura. Or perhaps... this hospitality is a courtesy reserved only for a paladin of Voltron?

It wasn't unlikely. As far as Allura could tell, capturing Voltron had been Prince Lotor's sole obsession these past six months together. Without her, the other paladins could no longer form Voltron, and thus, put them at a great disadvantage. Doubtless, Lotor was very much aware that the Blue Lion's capture, along with her own, was a very great victory. She could hardly deny him this feast of triumph. But a feast in which she was invited? Highly peculiar. There had to be some motive behind it.

Thus far, Lotor had proven himself a highly capable warrior, not just in his unparalleled piloting skills or his flawless swordsmanship, but predominantly in his incredible tact for strategy. Lotor was capable of concocting any number of plots to deceive her. Was this dinner yet another bizarre tactic to gain the upperhand?

Well, whatever he's trying to get at, he will find he'll have a difficult time getting anything from me, she vowed. I will fortify my mind, and make my manners indiscernible. Soon he will see I am not to be trifled with. I am a princess, after all. Not that he has any knowledge of that fact.

Nor would he, if she had anything to say about it. While her identity as a paladin was now known, her lineage was still kept a precious secret. Who knew what kind of leverage would be attained should Lotor discover her true title. She didn't even want to think about it. Lotor had already exhibited a remarkable ability to adapt to all kinds of circumstances. Why, after having Allura escape him once already, Lotor had wasted no time on rethinking his hunting strategy. Evidently, he'd thought it prudent to dispense with all notions of playing fair. Had he kept to those unspoken rules of war etiquette, Allura doubted she'd be in the position she was.

Somehow, the prince had engineered an electrical field of disorienting pulses which had then been triggered at the nearing of her Blue Lion, rendering herself unconscious, and her Lion powerless. His victory had hardly been an honorable one. She'd reawakened to find herself being carried by guards and deposited into this very cell. Now, here she was, sitting at a dining table and preparing for her captor to reveal his next despicable ploy. And speak of the devil...

Allura stiffened in her chair at the sound of her cell door and watched as in strode the resplendent figure of the Galra prince himself.

No longer attired in his military uniform, Prince Lotor was instead looking quite striking in a slim, formal suit of pale grays trimmed in black. His illustrious white hair, so very much like her own, trailed down either side of his shoulders with only the front portion tied back to keep out of his face. Allura was momentarily awestruck by his intense yellow gaze, which contrasted dramatically against the violet colored skin of his handsome face; a face in which bore the smallest insinuation of a smile. He entered the cell with all the dominance of a predator having cornered his prey.

"Greetings, princess. I've been looking forward to this moment with great anticipation..."

Allura's blue eyes widened in alarm.

Oh... no...