The Supremacy

by LostinNY

Follow up to the Academy. Lotor has graduated the Academy and is sent off to complete his military training under Hazar. The brutality of the Drule Supremacy shapes his identity. M for murder, violence, rough language and some sexual situations.

10. Chapter 10

I apologize for this super, super long chapter. Thanks to everyone who has been subscribing and encouraging me to keep writing this.

The Festival of Kitor

It was late afternoon when Lotor finally woke. He was exhausted from the morning's consecration ceremonies which still left his with an uneasy feeling. The hallucinations had bothered him so much that he foolishly threw away the cornucopia of pills he had stashed in his bags. He thought he was strong enough to break free of their hold. For months, he had told himself, he did not have a problem. He truly believed his consumption was well within normal limits; the demands on the Kiros were hard. In order to be promoted, he had to fulfill certain requirements as diverse as overseeing an engineering crew balance the flux in the engines to picking up a crew member who had been detained by the local authorities while on leave. There were never enough hours in the day; so he turned to the pills to give him the extra push he needed to complete his tasks. Then, after he was attacked by Ravok and Utor, he had trouble keeping focus. He was anxious and the ship's doctor gave him pills for that. In the beginning, it was under control, but during the campaign for Taran the use began to escalate.

Lotor pulled out the bag full of pills shoved deep inside a pair of running shoes and slumped into a chair. He looked at those pills and a nightmare vision of his own execution came to mind. Drug addiction was punishable by death; especially if it had endangered the ship or another member of the crew. He feared that if these hallucinations continued then he too might face these charges and the punishment that accompanied them. He would not be too surprised if the Imperials would take advantage of an opportunity to rid themselves of the Korrinoth heir. When he was at the Academy, he assumed that the other crown princes that refused to serve the Imperial Forces were cowards; now he knew that they were just more intelligent than he was. Why his father had insisted on him ever leaving Korrinoth was beyond him. Lotor looked at the pills and convinced himself that he would do without. He knew his body would protest; but he had reasoned that he had been through worse before.

Lotor made his way to his bathroom and flushed the pills down the toilet. The contents of his stomach were soon to follow as he heaved up what little was in there. He then broke out into a cold sweat. Exhausted, he lay on tiled floor hoping that the cool would ease his pained stomach and throbbing head. Finally, he brought himself up and looked in the mirror and let out a small huff. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin had a washed out look to it. It was his fault. He had consumed too many pills that morning and overdone it on the wine in the Temple. He had no time to sleep it off. He threw himself into the shower and got dressed; not in the uniform of the Supremacy's officers but in that of a Korronite warmaster. In truth, he looked at the close fitting blue pants and the tunic and cringed as he put them on. Over it, the leather top piece which was fringed with white leather; each tag representing an oath taken to the King. The leather skirt was of no concern; he had worn those since he was a boy as did the belt adorned with the House of Daibaza'al signature skull. All his father's vassals wore the skulls to show their homage to their lord.

He had one thing to do before the festivities. He went back to the greenhouse where in the corner was the transplanted rosebush. He had cut a few buds and slipped into the banquet hall placing them in a small decorative vase in front of the King's seat. The servants, noting that the Prince had placed them, left them undisturbed. For a moment, Lotor stopped and looked at the all too familiar banquet room. He closed his eyes and remembered the last Festival of Kitor it had been decorated before. He had slipped away from his nanny, curious for the noise. He was young and was shocked at what he was seeing. All of a sudden the room became quiet and everyone was staring at him. His mother approached him in a red dress. He had never seen her dressed like that. She looked more like a harem girl than a queen. She handed him a rose and told him to follow her; Zarkon demanding she stay. He was worried as they walked away and he told her to go back. Lotor had overhead them fighting earlier that day; Althea saying hurtful things to his father.

Lotor was not feeling exceptionally ill; stopping often as he made his way to his father's main reception hall. His father's warmasters were already gathering. He took a seat in the back; trying to keep his eyes closed; when he opened them the sick feeling intensified and the room was spinning. It was even an effort to rise when his father entered. He, along with the rest of the Court, fell unto their knees; humble before the Great King.

One by one, Zarkon called up his warmasters in order of their seniority. Their service was rewarded with lazon and properties. The fleets under some were expanded in order to help their conquests. Slaves were generously granted, necessary to replace the ones no longer needed or wanted. They were brought for fun to the Arena. Zarkon called up the newly minted warmasters, only that morning consecrated by Batak, and granted them their first holdings. He smiled and told them that these homes would only grow in size and wealth if they did good service to their king. The men pledged their loyalty to their king; and he to them and their kin. One by one, they were declared friends of the King. Finally, he called up Lotor to join him on the dais.

Lotor, with his head down and his arm in salute, made his way up the seemingly endless staircase, His father had a wide smile on his face; his eyes were eager with excitement. He looked at Lotor, and for a minute the Prince saw a flash of concern in his eyes, he sensing there was something not quite right. Lotor could barely focus on the words as Zarkon professed his joy for his son's accomplishments. He recounted the doubt his Court had that a hybrid could carry on his father's mantle; berating them for their lack of faith. He pointed to the newly installed throne that was adjacent to his; happy that his son would also represent the might of Korrinoth. Lotor would not only be feared as a warmaster but also as the Crown Prince of Doom; what all others generally called their planet. Let the offworlders insult their world with this appellation; they would embrace it. With his son and his warmasters at his side; Doom would take on a new meaning.

Zarkon continued on about his vision for the Ninth Kingdom; talks of alliances were meshed in with the promise of new technologies that would revolutionize their military forces. Finally, he announced that he was granting Lotor his own residence, the new fortress that ha recently been erected in the capitol city of Sorrinoth. The King hinted that there was plenty of room for any women he would acquire tonight bringing forth laughter from the crowd. Lotor silently groaned at the thought of the Arena that evening; he was in no shape to fight anyone as he could barely keep himself from doing a dry heave on the dais. Zarkon, annoyed at Lotor's lack of enthusiasm, gave him a harsh look.

Lotor finished by pledging his sword to Zarkon. Unlike the other men, his fealty was not considered a true submission to his father's royal authority. His royal birth, blessed by the gods as much as his father's ascension to the throne was, entitled him to challenge anyImperial King or Prince to their throne, even the Emperor. Korrinoth, unlike most other kingdoms, did not keep a champion to fight their ruler's challengers; their tradition required the ruler defend his own throne. Survival of the fittest, from the lowliest microbe to the royal throne, was the true law of Korrinoth. Of course, even if you defeated a ruler you still needed his warmasters and his Court to back you –there laid another problem. Most of the Court officials were not sworn to the King, but the throne. The only thing that made them comply with their King's orders was the fear that a warmaster's blade would be run through their heart. One could never challenge a standing king unless one had the supporters to back you. Several Korrinoth kings had died from old age in their bed.

The ceremonies were over. Zarkon called for his warmasters to join him in the banquet hall. He turned to Lotor and smiled. He asked him if his gift pleased him. Lotor gave his thanks, calling him a generous father. The king seemed pleased as he bounded down the stairs not giving a second look to see if his son followed.

Zarkon had been looking straight ahead when he sat down at the banquet table; proudly overlooking several tables seating his senior warmasters. He enjoyed the mood of his men; some accompanied by scantily clad females. Anticipation was in the air as the food came out and the wine was poured. The feast traditionally preceded the more sordid entertainment to follow. Moments passed and he wondered where Lotor was; the boy seemed not himself on the dials earlier. His keen eyes scanned the room for the boy but came up empty. He sighed and inhaled deeply catching a familiar scent of a fragrant flower. For a moment, in elation, he forgot where he was and excitedly looked around as if he expected someone to walk through the door. He groaned to himself; it was a foolish feeling to be overcome by. Althea was dead; killed by his own hand.

He looked around to see where the scent emanated from; shocked to find the roses in front of him. Zarkon wondered who would have the audacity to remind him of such a thing; especially here of all places. He could not even imagine how the flower had been acquired; few knew of its true origin. The greenhouse, were they were traditionally grown, had been in disrepair for many years. It stood only because Haggar had expressed some interest in using it for an herb garden.

He picked up one of the buds, gently putting it to his nose in hopes of dismissing the notion that this was Althea's. He could not. It was the scent he always associated with her. It had been on her skin, in her hair, and he thought, in her bed sheets. He looked over the room and sighed. Truthfully, he no longer cared to attend this particular festival. Even in his prime, Zarkon had detested it. Year after year, he had increased his harem with this custom but Batak was not kind. He was not blessed with any children. It was only when he approached his old age did Batak grant him this wish. He laughed to himself; an impotent king now presided over a fertility rite. The loss of desire being the price he had paid for the taking of Althea's life.

The Festival of Kitor was the first thing and the last that they ever fought about. He closed his eyes and put the rose to his lips as he remembered the first day he laid eyes on Althea Carris. He remembered his men dragging in the helpless girl; who fought like a wild beast. His men, who had been ordered not to harm her, were filled with claw and bite marks as she occasionally broke free enough to strike. When she stopped her struggle, somehow, though a disheartening mess, she still maintained some dignity. Her eyes flashing with stubborn pride; and though he did not know what the words meant; he noted her arrogant tone when she refused his advances. He still remembered when he first saw her and the words of lotor escaped his lips. He was filled with such lust for her that it made his heart ache. He wanted to worship her body and posses her soul. He wanted to tie her to him and make them truly one. He approached her and took in her scent. It was sweet and clean; seemingly to suit her. She would not have him until he killed one of her crewmates and threatened another's life. He took her, and when he finished, he looked into her cold eyes and found he was unable to meet her stare.

At first, he kept her in his harem. Things did not go well there. The other women were jealous when they heard of what happened in court. His current favorite, hearing he had uttered that particular word, was especially cruel to her. Garroth, the harem master, had tried to keep her away from the others but at times their paths crossed and the human had the marks to prove it.

Althea, though grieving her situation, was also desperate to survive this ordeal. She had been raised to be shrewd; to exploit the weakness of her competition. This was the way of the Carris clan. He called her often enough, his lust for his new pet was still new. With sweet words and loving touches she complained of her treatment by the woman as she bore the weight of his body. Partially as a punishment to his favorite one, a name he could no longer even remember, he moved Althea up to his private chambers. He smiled remembering it had been at her suggestion and not his. Zarkon had foolishly thought he had won some small victory over this arrogant creature. He was even amused by her attempts to manipulate him. He found himself actually excited that a woman of a harem would dare to even suggest such a thing to a warmaster. The generally tended to live in their own separate quarters, even after taking a wife. Her brazenness, like all things about her, intrigued him. It was only meant to be temporary; he had truly hoped he had not fallen under her spell. He refused to believe that he could succumb to a lotor. He had hoped that he would eventually bore of her. Instead, he became more fascinated by the temperamental; there was no other way to describe her, woman who had taken over his rooms.

It was not long before he smelled the estrogen on her skin, not even a week. He took her. She somehow knowing his intent was different; struggled under him trying to break free. The first time they tied she had clawed at his skin. He still bore one small scar on his shoulder to remember their first mating. The woman had somehow clawed deep enough to leave a mark, a rare thing since Drules barely scarred at all. He still looked at it with fondness. She could be a wildcat at times. He still remembered her pleas to get off of her which were just answered by more grunts and thrusts into her womb. And then, there was the first taste of her blood. It was not like a Drule's blood; it did nothing to excite his final release, but there was still pleasure to be had from the act. Doing that to her, knowing how much she had fought him, had its own eroticism. She had a long, lovely neck which he would eventually have necklaces made to show off its lines. How many times had he laid awake thinking of what it had felt like to run his tongue along its taunt skin. He remembered his hands running through her hair, pulling her head gently to its side, to expose as much skin as possible for his tongue to explore. The fragrance of the perfume was strong on her pulse points; the heat of her skin mixing with the alcohol in her perfumes; releasing its scented oils. All this was added to her own unique, sweet scent.

Years later, he learned to keep his teeth at bay only ripping into her flesh when his passion, not checked by discipline, demanded it. Looking back, there were many of those nights. This brought a smile to his lips; her blood was more enticing than any Drules he had ever tasted. Zarkon was surprised at the arousal he was now feeling just thinking about her hands, her lips, her breasts as he looked over at the women dancing before him. It had been many years since he had felt anything at all.

The banquet was in full swing; the hall loud with the sounds of men, their women and music. The wines being passed around were from Tyrus, laced with aphrodisiacs. He laughed at the obvious arousal of his guest and the slaves that were ushered in, for many of the woman it would be the last time they experienced these expensive beverages. It would be the only time they would ever enjoy having sex with their masters. Tonight all the men would watch these captives, their bodies on fire, accept their affections with abandon. The next morning these same women would probably weep with the memories of what they allowed or even initiated under the wines' influence.

Zarkon watched as the tables were cleared away and couches and tables were brought in. These surrounded a small area put aside for the men to, in good cheer, fight with each other. It was a friendly competition, there were plenty women for all. The more important gathering had occurred earlier where he had shared his wealth with his warmasters. Some, having wives, began to depart at this point. They were not allowed to partake in this and even risk sullying their marriage vows. Occasionally, a particular woman could cause an upset, and even a death or two, but these things rarely happened. The night had been designed for entertainment; not tragedy. Zarkon still had not seen Lotor and he was getting concerned. He had been very careful in his selection this year; specifically having the harem master choose women of his son's physical preferences so that he would compete harder and amaze the other warmasters with his ability to fight. Instead, he was no where to be found. He looked down at the rose in his hand and crumpled it within his fist; not quite ready to let it and the taste of Althea it brought go.

Althea's womb, to the shock of the Court doctors, took to his seed. She was soon pregnant and at first Zarkon had feared it was her lover's child because it happened so quickly. He had seen her reaction to the man in the hall. He had brought his sword up to kill the human and her response had been immediate. She had done nothing to save her other shipmate; the fear or disgust of being with him had overrode the desire to save that life. Or she could have been in shock that the Demon King wanted to bed her, most humans were fearful of having sex with A Drule. He never knew which it had been, revulsion or fear, but she stood by and watched him well knowing that her refusal had caused his death. Althea was one of those rare people, that at time, he found to be unreadable; such were her defenses. Lotor, he mused, was developing that skill. As the boy aged, he saw more and more of her emerging. This man that she cared for did not survive long; he made sure he was sent to the most dangerous mines. In the end; the child was his, but it was not the son he has longed for.

Zarkon, upon hearing of the pregnancy, never returned her to the harems. Instead, he gave up one of his larger rooms and had it converted into her personal suite. It was a strange time for him; he dare not touch her fearful that this pregnancy would end in failure like the others. It was not that he had been intent on the child, it was only another female to be dealt with, but he was curious if she could sustain the life within her. The women in his harem, and the witch, had brought forth dead, deformed issue. He felt cursed by Batak himself; and he wondered if his dreams of an heir were only an illusion. Even the daughters promised by the witch had never emerged and soon even she stopped talking about it saying that Batak had other plans for the both of them. Zarkon slept with Althea most nights; still wanting to be close. He often wondered what she felt; knowing that the man that had stolen away everything from her had fathered the child she carried. He sometimes would look at her face and touch her belly; and occasionally she would voice her fear that she harbored a monster. He still spent many days relieving his lust on his harem; but he no longer lingered there. He preferred her icy company. She had a sharp tongue and a delightful wit when it suited her. Her words were filled with black humor; her coping mechanism to survive.

He knew the exact moment his lust for her turned to love. One day, she was standing on the balcony overlooking the black seas that were west of the fortress. There was a lightening storm; and her face was lit up by fearsome strikes. She had a strange smile on her face. Her eyes were wide and shining. She would tense as she waited for the thunder to follow; almost breathless in anticipation. He walked over and gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"It is the first thing that has pleased you." He whispered.

"They are so beautiful. All that power surging in those bolts." She took in a deep breath and exhaled. He was jealous as he watched her chest rise up to met her breaths; knowing that their increase was for unborn child. He felt no desire to share her; not with anyone. "Enough to lit up a sky as dark as Korrinoth's." Althea murmured. His hands slid on her belly; he could feel his child kick. He smelled her hair and sighed.

"I was told my mother was a great beauty; like you. I think our daughter will take after the women in my family." She turned around and faced him.

"Let me go back to Arus. I will leave you the child." Tears were in her eyes.

"A child needs her mother. It is the woman's job to raise it." He answered; hiding his upset that she would even think of abandoning him; even if it met giving up her child. He caught himself; what else did he expect. She was not like most women he knew; there was selfishness intrinsic to her very being. Why did he expect anything more than her resentment about her condition? He tried to think of something to please her. She had not asked for anything since she had been installed in his chambers.

"There is a city on Korrinoth called Gershon. This storm pales to the ones that come there in the summer. I will take you there after the child comes. I need a vacation away from this place." He said softly.

"I am sure it will be beautiful." She said and turned her face to him. She touched his cheek; a rare gesture. He closed his eyes; lingering in the ecstasy of such a small touch. She watched his face and smiled; he knowing that at that moment he had given himself away. She leaned in and kissed him. He wished it was more than a calculated move; but everything that woman ever did had a purpose even when he, or sometimes even she, did not understand her motives.

"Althea Carris, will you marry me? I will make you Queen of the Universe. My sword will be yours to command." He whispered. "All you desire will be yours."

"Is it important to you?" She softly said.

"Yes, I would not have asked you if I thought otherwise. You are about to bear my only child. She may be Queen of Doom one day. I do not want my nobles to challenge her rights. Until I take you as a wife; they will continue to offer their own daughters to me. It will make the politics in my court very difficult." His voice was rough with passion when she slid her hands around his waist and caressed his buttocks. It had been so long since he had her and he ached at the memory. To his surprise; she pulled his head down and kissed him again. Her tongue slide across his lips; she pressed hard into his; forcing him to part his lips. She continued her assault; he rejoicing in her every movement. For the first time, she was the aggressor. Perhaps, she finally realized that he could be good for her. His heart raced for joy thinking that she had finally come to accept his affections. Her hands were deft and he soon found her massaging his aroused manhood. He was lost in pleasure.

"If you want it so, why have you not forced me to be your bride? You were not shy in anything else you wanted." She whispered.

"Marriage is a holy thing. An oath to the gods cannot be forced by another. So holy is the marriage oath, which once given requires the taker to forsake all others. I will have to dismiss my harem. That is how much your affections means to me, Althea Carris." Her kisses continued and he moaned in pleasure. His hands gently felt her belly, brushing against her breasts, wondering if taking her so far along in the pregnancy could really cause any harm. He, in a moment of discipline, pulled back. She smiled; and stepped forward as if she was the predator; and not him. She pulled him close to her.

"You seem to want this very much." Her voice, husky in his ear, raw with what he believed to be passion, filled his head. His erection was pressed against her and he thought he might come right there such was his desire for her.

"More than anything I have ever desired. I will make you the happiest woman in the galaxy. Your every wish will be my command." He answered back.

"You took away everything I ever wanted." She said as she forced him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were like ice and a cruel smile crossed her lips. "I will keep the only freedom I still have; and that is to refuse you this small thing. I do not care if you strike me down for my rejection; it would be easier for I do not have the strength to take my own life. I will never be your wife. You can make me share your bed, eat with you, suffer your touch, and even use my body to give you the heirs you seem so desperate for. But you will never make me yours. I am a Carris, born from an ancient and noble family. My father tried to make me marry a man and I fled. To this day I do not regret it even though I have fallen to such a low state. I will not be told who to love." He cheeks were flushed and her nostrils were flaring as she pronounced these words. It was a challenge; the first direct one she had thrown at him. She was beautiful in her anger; terrifying as Korrinoth's storms. In that very moment, his lust had turned to love. He pulled her even closer.

"One day you will agree to be mine." He said as he stoked a talon down her back.

"I will die first." She spat back.

"That will be your choice." He said. He released her and made his way down to his harem. He had few humans to choose from; save for her; he had no strong desire for the weak creatures. He had two blondes brought forth. Their bodies were lovely; but their eyes did not rage like hers did. He ordered them to the bed that was in the back of the harem and told them to bend over. He did not want to see their faces; just their hair. He took one and then the other. They screamed and cried out for there was no preparation for him. He was purposively brutal, pulling their hair and clawing their backs. Every lunge, every bite, every scrape was a testament to his frustration at her refusal. His rage filled the woman as much as his seed did. Like dolls, he threw them down on the bed and left them broken and crying. He had only had them once before, they were his prizes at the Festival of Kitor, an afterthought in that frenzied night. He had taken them only because someone else, another warmaster that he was angry with, wanted them. Now, they became his favorites. For every blow he wanted to place on Althea, for every time she refused to scream out underneath him; for every icy glance or cold word she gave to him they were there to bear the brunt of his fury. He never laid a hand on her in that manner; knowing he would lose discipline and perhaps mar his lotor.

During the next couple of years, his harem was replaced by blond human females. Eventually, they too would be dismissed as Althea's power over him grew. Occasionally, he would push back by taking a slave or a whore to his bed, but in the end he was driven back to Althea. The task of finding human females was a difficult one for any harem master; their exotic looks were much desired by many a warmaster. Zarkon, like all the others, had to fight for them at the Festival of Kitor to claim them as his own. Rarely did his men challenge him for one; but sometimes a particularly fetching one would cause a stir. Sometimes Zarkon relented; he was a generous man. Other times, it came to blows. And once, he killed a man who would not back down. This went on for five years until he came up with another plan to win her hand in marriage. He had tired of these women and wanted only her. Though any other Drule would argue they looked like Althea, he could never see the resemblance save for the hair.

Zarkon no longer went down to his harem for pleasure, since he could only find that in her bed – but to punish her. Even though he told her what he did to the women; she did not budge. Finally, thinking she did not believe his words, he forced her to come with him to watch their humiliations. Althea took it as another challenge. She even would sometimes run a commentary; giving suggestions as to how he should abuse them or what position he should take on in. The slaves, along with the Court, shared this amongst themselves. Zarkon was amazed at her tenacity; thinking just out of mercy she would free these women from his tortures. Instead she would just fix their eyes on the scene; giving her icy stare to both him and them. It was not the Court that named her the Ice Queen; but his slaves. They too hated her, though she was technically one of them. The problem was that no matter how many times she called herself that, everyone knew that it was Zarkon who had become totally enslaved. It was many years before she used her influence to ease their suffering; and that, along with everything else that Althea did, was on a whim.

Zarkon had heard that humans could be as cold as any Drule; even more savage but he did not believe it until he met Althea Carris. He cursed himself for falling in love with such a human; for she did not limit her nature just to him. She let him torture these women. She would say it was he, and not her, that brought their pain about; and therefore, she felt no compelling urge to interfere though the women begged her to relent. Just like the crewmate that she allowed Zarkon to kill; her arrogance sealed their fate. When he asked her how she could be so heartless; she responded that she felt no guilt. The sin was not hers to bear; she was only its witness. Finally, even the women failed to serve their purpose. Abusing them did not lift his rage or frustration and, though he cared not for the females; like everything they were just another possession; he rarely did anything without a purpose. They did not serve him and he resolved to rid himself of them. Other warmasters would gladly accept his gifts as there were no children attached to his women. On the birth of his son; he dismissed them totally. If Althea would not marry him; well, he thought, she could not stop him from marrying her. At least, he could make her his Queen in his mind.

Zarkon watched impassively as the men moved closer to the area set aside. He got up and moved to his seat; high above the scene. He had not participated in years; and his men preferred it that way. Zarkon had always been a bit greedy; taking the women and then parceling them out as gifts later. His warmasters were reminded that, even though he was getting on in years, he still possessed the brutal strength and cunning that brought him the throne. He looked around the room; concern now replacing his annoyance with Lotor's absence. This was something any warmaster would look forward to; not shy away from. His mind turned back to Lotor's birthday party where he had refused to take a woman to bed. Perhaps, his father thought, he was not interested in them but the servants told him otherwise. He had taken several of the servant girls to his bed; he was not excessive but he was no saint either.

The evening storms of Korrinoth had begun to rage; the lightening adding to the dim glow of lamps. A large group of dancing girls had been brought in to flame the lusts of the men. Some, he was sure, would not even make it to the main event before they took some of the more comely servants. This was Kitor, the night that Batak commands his warmasters to forgo discipline and to unleash the Evil Impulse. When Zarkon was younger he thought it was his solemn duty to comply; he had been as devout as Lotor – maybe even more so. Now, he realized that is was no more than an institutionalized orgy. At least, that is what Althea called it.

He still clutched the rose as he looked outside the large windows. The lightening and the fragrances combined in his mind; triggering off a memory of her lying in his arms, in Gershon. He had brought her there to give her a break from the baby. She was playing the devoted mother role well; but he could see it did not suit her. Still, she was uneasy about being away and he was trying to get her forget about the infant and to refocus her attentions on him. She had given birth three months ago, and he had not been alone with her. He had first thought to just take her but he had decided to try to woo her instead. He took her to Gershon. She met him with her cold stare; sizing up the situation. She turned away from him.

"Did you think I would wait much longer?" He said as he stroked her hair. "I have been patient for so long. I have not touched you in a year."

"You have plenty of women to attend to your lusts. Why so much affection for me? I have heard you are a generous king; you might share more of your affections with them and less with me. They hate me enough; you should not make me look so greedy." She said as he pressed his erection into her.

"Do you want to give up your position as my favorite? I could choose another. I can arrange for you and Leanarra to be sent back into the harem?" She turned to face him.

"As if you would. You have been sniffing around my door since she was born; harassing the doctors to find out when you could honor me with your affections." Zarkon smiled. Althea was the only women he had ever met that showed him no fear. Even the witch would flinch when his temper arose.

"You speak the truth. I am desperate to make love to you." His hand started to caress her body. She moved away. He pulled her close.

"Drules do not make love; they rut like animals." She hissed.

"We are just enthusiastic." He chuckled. "Our women like it."

"Then fuck one of them." He rolled her back to face him. Her body had become even more womanly after the pregnancy; her hips filling out. Her rear was now more rounded and he already was thinking of his hands digging into it. He had already decided that he would take her from behind several times before this trip was over; he was getting harder thinking of how deep she could take him before she cried out. She was right; he should take his time when he fucked her. He was always so excited when he entered her that he tended to rush to orgasm; he needed to work on his discipline. Perhaps, she would scream out to him to be quicker, even just to make it over. He so wanted to hear to react under him.

"I will decide who I take to my bed; not you." He answered back.

"What will it take for you tot make this enjoyable for me?" He whispered. "There must be something you want?"

"My freedom." She answered; a delicious smirk on her face. Althea was taunting him.

"The repetition of that request bores me. Something more reasonable." His fingers twirled around her golden strands.

'I heard that you are going to Gorlos next month, please take me. I have always wanted to go the Western Territories." She stroked his cheek and turned his face toward her.

"Gorlos is a world made for sin, chaos rules its shores. A lady such as you should not see such a place." He grabbed her fingers and bit lightly on their ends. She was considering her next move carefully. He enjoyed the fact that all of her attention was on him.

"I am no lady, I am a slave. I hear there is a dressmaker that could make a mere mortal look as beautiful as Keturah. I want her to make me a wardrobe fit for a goddess." She mused.

"You are no Keturah. You are more like Jera, Lord Tavor's woman." He said, laughing to himself.

"Who was this Jera? I have not heard of her." She said, curious of the comparison.

"Jera is the goddess of passion. She lusted after Bashir and stole him from Batak's bed; He promised her that he would protect her from Lord Tavor's wrath. But in the end, Bashir abandoned her for Batak, taking his sword with him. It is a morality tale about the destructive power of the Evil Impulse"

"What happened to Jera after Bashir abandoned her?" Althea asked.

"Lord Tavor killed her." Zarkon said with a smile.

"That is horrible. All of these stories end up with someone dead." Althea looked at him. "Your religion is as savage as your people."

"They are dark gods, my love." He said. "Why do you want more dresses, you have closets full of them. I am the only one you see. "

"Exactly. I have been shut up in your chambers for over a year. This does not suit me at all. I plan to attend Court. I want to dazzle your humble servants." A look of bemusement crossed Zarkon's face.

"Really. Did I say I want you there? Have you forgotten that you serve me?" Althea smiled as her hand sunk into the sheets, massaging his groin. It was the first time she had ever touched him in bed like that and he sucked in his breath.

"It is a little thing I ask." Zarkon almost laughed as she said the Drule phrase usually meaning something entirely else.

"If I say yes, will you beg my bed?" He reached over and started to nibble at her neck.

"For tonight only. You will have to negotiate for tomorrow." She said, moving her hand away. She made sure it was only a taste to tempt him.

"Tonight is a trip to Gorlos. Tomorrow, I will grant the dressmaker. And the day after, you may come to Court. It may please me to have you there. You have gone from a slave to a whore." He murmured into her hair as his hands slid down her legs; she parted them willingly.

"No, I was raised to be a trader. I have just traded the only thing I have that interests you. But it is only a temporary thing; do not read any more into it than it is." She said as she planted a kiss on his neck.

"I have slept with better bodies, more beautiful women." He said; trying to negate what power she thought she had over him.

"I wasn't talking about my body; it has always been yours to claim. And as for the other, that it is said is in the eyes of the beholder. You are discussing things that are not even up for negotiating. That is not what you want. You want my desire, my lust." She sat up, tucking her legs under her. Her ice eyes were warm.

"You lust for me. That I would never believe." He huffed back; his breath getting shorter.

"I lust for the things that the Great King can give me. You can easily pretend it is lust for you. You can lie to yourself that it is out of want that I will do the things you ask of me." She leaned over and softly said in his ear. "You would like me to pleasure you willingly."

"As long as I am careful, I see no harm. It is dangerous when a Drule believes his own lies." He grabbed her and pulled her up onto his body, tracing his hand across her breasts. She did not flinch. Her eyes were still on fire; he could hear the thunder crashing around them. She leaned over and kissed him.

"Anything I want?" He said as he massaged her thighs.

"As long as you do not send me to the hospital." She laughed. It was only the first of such bargains. She always delivered the goods without complaint. Her lust, as she promised, was a temporary thing that she could turn on and off at will. The nights, that would bring him to the very heights of ecstasy, were followed by mornings where she let her revulsion for him known. The remarks that barely stung before, now felt like daggers. He hardly believed that the passion they had shared was a false testament on her part. Sex with Althea, would become an addiction, and she made him pay a high cost to get his fix. That night he learned the difference between his taking her body; and her taking his. It was a lesson best left unlearned.

The next request was not so simple. She wanted a greenhouse with a type of flower found only on Arus. It amused her that it was named after her. She proudly told him that her father had it commissioned especially for her; a particularly fragrant hybrid. He sent a diplomatic mission to Arus in order to open up trade. Their young king, eager for lazon, offered up many things in exchange. The Drules considered the list, rejecting some of the things, and adding one. They wanted the roses known as the Althea grown on the Carris estate. It was non-negotiable. Carris charged his King a fortune for the bushes that made their way to Doom. Korrinoth had not let a flower take root in 1,200 years. The planet, like its sovereign ruler, relented to Althea Carris's request. He built her a greenhouse and showed it to her. For once, he found her lurking in his bedroom. He was overcome with ecstasy. Not because she gave herself willingly, but because he had truly pleased her. Occasionally, she could be kind.

Zarkon looked at the rose; his heart full of regret for what he had agreed to that evening. He knew that was the night when Zarkon of Korrinoth, born of the House Daibaza'al, known to history as the Demon King, sold his soul to an Arusian trader. He had never met a Carris before; any Terran could have told him to be wary of dealing with them as they always took more than their fair share.

He looked below. The men were calling him. A few attractive virgins had been found; the slave traders were a little more restrained as the festival approached realizing that hey would fetch a higher price. Korrinoth was not the only world in the Drule Empire practicing this custom. These virgins were always offered to the liege lord first. No one expected him to come down and them. It was his right, but it had been long gone unused. A gasp came from the gathered group as he made his way down and examined the first girl. This girl, along with the two others, was meant for Lotor's use this year. The duty of the ritual deflowering should have fallen to him after his father had rejected them. In the past, Yurok had been given the honor.

He looked again, the boy was no where to be found. He, on the other hand, was feeling something that he had not in years. He was hard; not for any girl in particular. A feeling of lust seemed to envelope him. She was clad in little. A small thong and a slave's collar adorned her. He sat her down on the coach and started to kiss her. She was drunk with Tyrusian wine and did not fight him, instead moaning in pleasure. He remembered the last time he was going to take a virgin at the festival and laughed. It almost cost him his life. He looked down at the rose; its petals crushed in his hand. He opened his fist and they fell onto his lap, a small red tempest to remind her of him.

He could still see her standing there. Her hair was up in a bun; looking so very proper. She had been angry with him again. He had gone to Tyrus; and though she would not say it; she did not like to share him. The thought amused him as he had only slept with one high priced escort. He would still test the waters to see if another could arouse his desire as much as Althea did. The woman hardly compared and it had meant nothing. He could have pleasured himself and it would have been the same. He had sensed something akin to jealousy; or maybe she was afraid she was just losing her hold on him. He approached her with the gentlest affection he could muster.

"When will you marry me, Althea Carris?" He sighed. "And then I would not go looking elsewhere."

"Never." She stiffened to his touch. He tried to quell his rage. Had he not been good to her and their child? He deserved more from her than being relegated to someone that she took recreation with.

"Have it your way. I have no desire for this year's offering. You will come with me to the Festival of Kitor." He hissed. He performed his duty. He first took the virgins in front of her. And then, he brought out a table covered in her precious roses, her most beloved possession. He forced her down and took her in front of his warmasters. She turned her face away as he punished her body; trying to humiliate her into submission. Her eyes focused on the crowd. His warmasters, who had little interest in the virgins, were now watching everything closely. Some had started to unzip their pants and pleasure themselves. One had already mounted a serving girl and was watching his king as he was thrusting into her. Althea did not fail to notice she was a human.

"I will humiliate you every year until you agree to be my wife. Wives are not allowed, nor their husbands, to attend the Festival of Kitor. You might want to consider that the next time I ask." He hissed as he finished up. He looked into her eyes, the arrogance and defiance were still present, but so were the tears that not only erved to arouse him but his men. They were a cruel race.

"Even your lust can't spoil my roses." She pulled down her dress, not wanting the panting men to see any more. She remembered their looks as they passed by her that evening. For some, the look continued in Court following the Festival. Zarkon took no other women that night, nor did he touch her again. He was more content in watching his favorite's reaction to his men's stares. He had hoped she was frightened by their unmitigated lust.

The next year went no better. For a week the servants heard their impassioned fights. It was always the same, breaking vases and then, from the condition of the sheets, the wild sex that preceded the week of the festival. Zarkon was desperate trying to win her favor by buying her gifts and plying her with wines in order to try to get her to give up and give in. Finally, the night of the festival would arrive. He would sit there as they dressed her up as a whore goddess; each year the outfits had become more and more revealing,

He had her positioned on the bed of roses, in a way she looked like an offering to his god. His men gathered around to watch her yearly defilement. She no longer even looked ashamed as Zarkon began to move himself in between her legs. His lust was quite under control as he had already finished with the virgins who had been thrown back into the herd of women to be fought over. The men had barely noticed them; they were intent on watching their King conquer the gorgeous creature before their eyes. He leaned in to whisper into her ear, offering her a release from this degradation. She knew what he would say before the words came out.

"When will you marry me Althea Carris?" It had almost become a pitiful litany. She looked at the men surrounding them, aware of the effect she was having on them. A look of concern crossed her face. This year, more than last, they looked as if they wanted to devour her. Zarkon also looked over to his men; he was not looking forward to the challenges in the Arena that would probably follow. He was not a young man any more.

"You are not my wife. Any of them can challenge me for you." Zarkon purred in her ear.

"They will not. You are their King." She answered back arching her back up as she felt his hand lift the small of it up. She knew that he was trying to tilt her hips up to meet his thrusts. He laughed as she struggled a bit; he had one or two tricks under his belt. He could usually get what he wanted from her if he was patient.

"You never know. Women are the one thing a warmaster is illogical about. Until I began to bring you here, you were just Althea Carris, the king's favorite. Now they see as a human woman that can take a Drule without screaming." His talon stroked her cheek.

"I thought Drules like it when women scream." She said.

"In pleasure, not pain. But when you are fucking them the ear makes it seem no different." His tongue slid up her neck. He bit into her heard and made her scream causing some of the men to lick their lips as Zarkon lapped up her blood. Althea, feeling his tongue, smiled at the men staring at them. She put her hands on Zarkon's shoulders and scratched deep enough to make him bled, causing him to thrust even harder. She knew it was a contest to see which one of them would hold out longer. Althea laughed; it was all too easy to make A Drule lust and even easier to make them finish up faster.

At that point, Zarkon had forgotten to why he had even brought her down there – his body was filled with the wine and he wanted to make savage love to her. To his surprise, she was more than willing. She matched everything he had and offered more. Althea had found his soft spot and attacked. Warmasters no longer challenged Zarkon for his throne; but to take possession of the woman he called wife. Althea would watch her husband take on her foolish suitors, what else one would call them, in the Arena. Mostly he made short work of them, but sometimes they got in a blow that hurt. She had brought dissent to his Court, it was the price he paid for trying to humiliate him.

The years rolled by, and still nothing had changed. That year, he had started his yearly campaign to bring her to the altar earlier than usual, determined to batter her down. He knew she hated it when he made his trips to Tyrus for an occasional tryst. She would never come outright and complain but she would pout and it could be a weeks and even sometimes months before she requested something worth trading for. What, he wondered, would her reaction be if he really took another lover. He found a willing partner in a warmaster's daughter. This was not a slave but a free Drule; one he told her that he considered marrying since she had not given him the son her desired. For two months, he had barely touched her. Each night, he took the woman to his bedroom and took his recreations with her; it was obvious that he wanted Althea to hear their passionate lovemaking. The next day he would eagerly describe what they did. She had no reaction. He decided to step up his plan, make her seem that he was seriously going to replace her. He made a move that left no doubt to his new favorite was. Althea, curious, decided to play the game and shamed herself, wondering how far he would go. He also replaced Althea with this woman at Court, seating him by her side there and at the banquet table. In the end, it culminated in the Imperial Arena. Had Althea Carris actually won this round, delegated to a warmaster's harem, she may have never suffered her eventual fate. But oddly enough, she had no real desire to win it either. It had been set up to humiliate her King as he had her by bringing another woman into his bed.

The year that Althea tried to have Zarkon assassinated was legendary in the history of the Festival. He remembered that momentous fight, each circling around each other in a macabre dance. The yearly fight had become one to avoid; the servants and even the slaves, moved as far away from Zarkon's chambers as possible. His new favorite, she was sure, must have had her ear to the door. Zarkon had been promising her all sorts of things that week, and the woman told Althea that he was going to marry her. She told Althea she had been pleased with her, and Zarkon had agreed to keep her on as the woman's pleasure slave. Althea looked at the woman and laughed. The poor thing had no idea what was going on. Not a week later, the woman was now hiding behind the almost closed door. Althea could see the young's woman's eyes widen in horror as the conversation progressed.

"You will be my wife." He hissed.

"No, I am your slave. " She said as she turned away from him. "I am just a slave."

"You should be a queen, only your arrogance denies your proper station." He said, hurt by her words.

"Would a king make a queen do the things you have made me do?" She whispered as she dropped to her knees and tugged at his belt. There was no lust here; she was doing this to bait him. "Would a queen be told by her king's mistress that he was going to make her a pleasure slave to serve her lust?" He grabbed her by the arms and picked her up. Her feet dangling. Her eyes were filled with defiance.

"I have been more respectful of late." She looked him in the eyes; until finally he looked away.

"Only a little. You were unforgiveable two weeks ago." She said. A small smile was on her face. "I could not believe what you asked me to do."

"I was angry with you. I do not understand why you are playing the aggrieved. I do not recall forcing or cajoling you into doing anything at all." Zarkon said, his tone somewhat darkened.

"No you were not. That has always turned you on. You forget when you used to make me watch your harem girls do those things? I saw the Evil Impulse arise in you. Did you ever fantasize about making the woman you wish call wife a part of your harem, sad that she did not accept them as sisters in pleasure?"

"It is a moot point", he sighed. "They are gone now. But it would have made my life and yours easier. And what of you? Are you still upset that all my affections are for only you?"

"They have not been of late. You have only come to see me when I was ripe for a mating and to fulfill your favorite's fantasy, or was it yours?" She shot back. She pulled away from his touch. He shook is head. He would have been glad if it truly was jealousy, but he doubted it.

"A situation easily remedied if you would marry me. Are we going to play games are you going to tell me what you want? You were the one who asked me an audience, not the other way around. Did you see a new necklace or has a designer caught your ridiculously expensive eye?" He whispered in her ear.

"You are trying to change the subject." She put her hand on her hip.

"If you are not in the mood to bargain, then save the fight for your bed." He easily carried her over to her bed and threw her down. Zarkon and Althea both heard a small whimper in protest; the door was now more than ajar. He smiled knowing that the woman was watching them; it would make it all that much easier to rid himself of her. In truth, he had been lying in bed for months burning for Althea. The young woman he had been bedding was not even a suitable distraction. One way or the other, once Althea had the audacity to summon him he was going to take his due. "I am going to fuck you all night long. You might as well get something out of it." He said with a lecherous smile.

"I want you to marry that chit and be rid of me." She hissed, "Is that worth a trade?"

"Not even remotely possible." He said as he nuzzled her neck. Althea smiled. He was trying to be gentle with her; even accommodating.

"I want you to take her to the Festival rather than me. She is your favorite now." She whispered as he ran her hands across her breast.

"And disappoint my men. Ask me for something else. Ask me to become your husband." He was leaned into her; his erection was pressed up into her.

"If you ever drag another silly little mouse into your chambers again I will...." She said.

"Do what...marry me or refuse my bed? Either way, you are mine for the taking. Sometimes you forget your place." He said as he slid his hand up her leg. "You belong to me. I know why you are so mad at me but I do not understand it. You struck a deal, fair and square. Sorry, you were upset when I made you pay up. I think I finally bested you. That little bauble you wear around your neck today was a mere trinket when one compares it to the memory I have of you making love to her. It was priceless. I was surprised you sold out for so low. I was actually disappointed in you, but then I reasoned that you just might have been just curious. You needed an excuse to experiment." He chuckled.

"I was going to be nice to you until you brought all that up." Althea said with a smirk as she moved her head away from his; denying him her mouth to kiss. He did not care. He was just as angry at her for making him go to such extremes to claim her as his own. The woman was impossible to please. He had already decided to take her that night with no trade; it would be far more enjoyable to force her to accept his affections. If he was lucky she would fight him, even if she just lay there impassively he would still enjoy himself. He wanted submission on her part.

Even talking with Althea had been enjoyable; the other girl barely out of her teens was incapable of having an intelligent conversation. He sighed; that was not it. Althea was probably younger when he first had her. Althea was always different than the others; educated and cultured, she was usually current on Drule Empire affairs. For a human, she was quite intelligent with flashes of brilliant insight that delighted him. He was a little bit annoyed with her; sure she would break this time. She then confused him with her willingness to play with him and his mistress; which further angered him. He thought deep down that she liked being by his side, wielding some influence as the King's woman. The Court itself was confused when he placed this woman by his side; even at the height of his harem no woman was prominently displayed. Althea Carris was the first. And on top of that, he had one woman was in his chambers and another in the adjacent one. The court was not able to discern the right center of power to gravitate to in order to curry favor with the King. Althea Carris was supposed to be the King's lotor, not the foolish, but pretty girl, he had next to him.

Zarkon had been patient with this game though he wanted it over. He secretly longed to return to his days and nights by Althea's side. He was shocked, when as a joke; he offered her a necklace to come into his bed to play with his mistress after she made some ridiculous comment. She had always refused when she was in the harem, no amount of beatings or pleadings from him could get her to participate in the games that the girls played with each other– many taking place without Zarkon's presence. His harem master knew his tastes well, and as Althea pointed out, the women taking each other as lovers was something he liked to watch. Garroth had scoured the auctions for women with these tendencies. Althea Carris was not one of them and the women were mad she would not play with them. There was a pecking order in the harem; and it was just another way to reinforce it. When she arrived, Zarkon's current favorite had expected Althea to take care of her needs. She refused and the woman beat her.

The other harem girls were even angrier that Zarkon never pressed the point when he asked her to join them. If any of them had refused such a request they would have been sent to the dungeon, but not Althea. He treated her kindly and never laid a hand on her though she was disrespectful and would pointedly ignore him when he walked in. Zarkon had remembered all of this too. In fact, he was shocked that not only did she participate, but as the evening progressed, she seemed to lose all of her inhibitions as the avaricious Drule female demanded she pleasure her again and again. He was thrilled that she had such a good time with his new playmate, but something did not seem right. Althea could be quite an actress. He had tried for a repeat performance the next day; his new partner was more than willing to have the beautiful woman at her command again. This time, Althea flatly refused and he knew not to ask again. As usual, she was a mystery.

Zarkon had resigned himself to licking her neck; his moans troubling the girl behind the door. Where he was loud with her; he was almost cooing and purring with Althea. He already knew by Althea's mood that she was not going to give him any more enjoyment than an orgasm. She would just lay there when he finally took her. He would try desperately to get a reaction out of her; be it pain or pleasure. He still had not decided which. And she would fight either one, trying not react to either. It was not the most enjoyable thing to do with her in bed; he much preferred the nights when he was calling the shots but any sex with Althea was better than none at all.

Several hours later, he was done. His body was still clinging with sweat and she had that devilish smirk on her face. He did not know why, it was not like he had actually done anything to please her. Just the opposite as he looked at a claw mark on her breast. Her eyes were shining as she licked those ruby red lips. He was sorry that he was so old; debating whether taking her again was worth the effort. Her hair was wild. Her usually kept it straight, but it was a tangled mess. And her skin, it glowed. Althea, after she had sex, whether she liked it or not, looked liked a goddess.

"Stop mooning over me." She said. "I hate that look."

"I cannot help it. You are exquisite. Althea Carris, when will you marry me?" He said as he stroked her cheek.

"Never." She practically growled back as he cuddled against her. She was warm and soft like, a small pink doll in his arms. "Get rid of your little playmate. You shame yourself by making love to a woman who acts like a child."

"If it pleases you, Althea Carris." He murmured.

"I do not care." She said.

"Yes you do; you just refuse to admit it. Your jealous. You do not want to share me." He said with satisfaction in his voice.

"I do not want the father of my child looking like an old fool." She answered back. Her voice was sharp.

"The Festival of Kitor is next week. Do not humiliate yourself in front of my men." He said. "Althea Carris, I am begging you to marry me."

"It is on your soul if I am disgraced. You do not need to bring me. You have the virgins to fuck, and you can prove your virility to your men with your new favorite; that should be enough for any man." He felt her snuggle into his arms as if she belonged there. He had exhausted her and she wanted to sleep. It was hard to believe that there could be anything peaceful between them at times; but for a moment, she lay quiet. He was almost lulled by her actions. "Zarkon", she murmured, "you did not best me." He did not have to look into her face to know that her unforgettable smile was there. "The necklace was just a bonus, as much a trinket to me as you."

"I do not understand." He said.

"You will. I am glad that you enjoyed the show, but as always you will be paying for more than you bargained for. Oh, have that little bitch out of your bed tomorrow. And replace the mattress if you ever want me in your chambers again." It was the last thing she said before she fell asleep. In the morning, the beautiful woman resting so peacefully in his arms would turn into a little tyrant. For his own good, he knew to get rid of the girl. Althea, he had hoped, called a truce. Zarkon, stayed up all night debating what was going on between them. She knew she would never answer what the veiled threat in her words mean. Althea never did anything without calculating the costs. He was beginning to regret last week, in fact, the last two months. She easily agreed to do something she had always recoiled at before; in fact, she approached it as if it were a challenge. By the end of the evening, her inhibitions were gone. In fact, he thought she liked it so much he wanted to arrange another tryst immediately. Yet, the look in her eye told him that it was something she had arranged. After all, it was she who had made the comment that started that particular trade. Althea never asked for a small thing; not as small as the necklace she got in exchange for what had happened. She was planning something big.

On that particular year, Zarkon had an important guest at the Festival that year, the Imperial warmaster Charak. Charak had been visiting the Demon King's court regularly for the past two years. His official role was being the Emperor's Champion and only Zarkon had a steady supply of robeasts capable of keeping the man's form at its best. He was currently the highest ranked sword master in the Drule Empire; he had never been defeated. Zarkon had technically been defeated; he had given up all the time so he could grant favors to men. No one in Court took his defeats seriously; if he wanted to kill a man in the Arena then that man was as good as dead. Zarkon generally preferred to watch Arena fights than participate in them. He had his fill on the battlefields of his youth; he had nothing to prove.

It had all started out as usual. He granted his warmasters their villas, their warships, and an incredible amount of lazon to support their households. It had been an excellent year. Charak, as much as any of the others, seemed in good cheer as they entered the banquet. Althea, dressed more provocatively than he could ever remember, took her seat next to him and smiled her come fuck me smile to all of them. Zarkon shot her a look that could kill but she ignored him. He noticed that she did not eat or drink anything; while the rest of the room; including himself, fell to the spell of the wine. Men were already starting to take advantage of the women as the banquet tables were pulled away. All except his Imperial guest, conveniently seated by his side. He also did not touch what was offered. Not once, but three times had he seen the man make eye contact with his woman and she had returned his smile with her god damned smirk.

The evening only got worse. They brought the virgins out and as their king he went to do his duty. They brought the first out; but he was still watching Althea. She had moved over a seat and was whispering with the man. He had laughed. She put her hand on his shoulder to lean in; a touch far to familiar. He gave out a growl. He shook his head; the wine was affecting him. They brought out the girl and he started to kiss her. The wine was making it easy to forget that this was not Althea and he did not notice when she had joined them. But the crowd did and they encouraged her kisses to the woman's neck; roaring when she started to gently bite down on it causing the young girl to moan. With great interest they moved in. Zarkon, at first, sat their unbelieving as his wife made love to the girl. He was as aroused as his men as he watched Althea take possession of what should have been his. After all, it had been his favorite voyeur activity. Finally, after she decided that the girl had her fill, she left the panting young thing in front of him. Zarkon thanked the gods that there was only one more girl to take because he could barely handle watching her again. He was glad to have Althea on her bed of roses, high above the staring eyes. Even then, in a move that surprised him, she mounted him. She took control and rode him in front of the crowd, his moans were drowned out. Exhausted he rested on the bed as she went to mingle. It was only later that he found her dancing with the warmaster whispering things into his ear. They did not stay for the rest of the festival. He dragged her back to his chambers and thrust her up against the wall, for the first time he had his hands clutched around her throat. She did not seem afraid; in fact, she seemed gleeful.

"Are you finally going to choke the life out of me? I was wondering when this day would come." She sputtered out. Instead he slipped his hands to her waist pinning her against the wall. His erection making its way into her; she was till sopping with his seed. He rammed it into her and her head was being slammed against the wall in unison. Soon he tires of this and threw her on his bed. He continued his tireless pounding until he heard her sobbing underneath her. He had never been that cruel to her before. Finally, he pulled out. She was sobbing uncontrollably. He was shaking.

"No one ever touches you again but me. Not a man, not a woman. Do you understand?" He said; his voice was still shaking. "And to pick Charak of all men to flirt with, he had been lusting after you since he started showing up in my Court. What did he ask you?" Zarkon was starting to calm down. He was stroking her hair. He was rocking her. He had crossed a line.

"He wanted to know how you were in the Arena?" Althea answered back.

"And what did you say?" He looked at her intently. She said nothing. "Althea Carris, what did you say?" He began to shake her.

"I said you have not taken up the sword in years so I did not know." Althea cried out.

"Althea Carris, what have you done? You have basically artranged my death." Zarkon softly said. "He is going to ask for you and I will either have to fight him, and probably lose, or give you away. Do you understand?" She shook her head.

"Althea Carris, will you marry me now? Before it is too late." He pleaded.

"You brought another woman home into our bed. You no longer deserve mine." She stiffly said. He looked into her eyes. The Ice Queen had returned with a vengeance.

"What about Leanarra? We have a child to consider." He hissed back.

"I had not thought of her. She is more yours than mine." Althea answered flatly.

"You are always so selfish. She is your blood." He sat down next to her.

"If you are so worried about her, let me take her to Arus. You can come visit me, I you. I would even consider becoming your wife, but as a free woman. Grant me my freedom." She shouted back.

"No." He said.

"Then you must treat me like a slave." She cried out.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He sighed as he took her in his arms.

"Why are you so afraid to have something taken away from you?" She answered.

"Because I am a Daibaza'al" He whispered to her.

"And I am a Carris." She said. "We never give up until we get what we want."

They both looked up at the ceiling. He sighed. "Explain the trade. Explain tonight. You drank no wine." He started to laugh. She was beyond comprehension.

"I wanted to put on a good show. I had no experience in that area." She burst out laughing. "You brought that on yourself. Be careful for what you lust for."

"Althea Carris you are the most wicked creature that ever lived." He pulled her close. He knew as long as he had her he would die a happy man.

Three months later he was in the Imperial Arena. He fought the legendary sword master for his woman, and then, she made a scene at an Imperial dinner that became the gossip of every Court for months on end. He also remembered that was the night she conceived their son. The son he had dreamed about for so many years. That trip to Drule had been a good one for them. She still refused to marry him unless he let her go back to Arus; he still refused fearful that she would not return. In truth, he never did really know her heart. Yet, there was an understanding on their return. He would no longer go to Tyrus for his flings and she would act more like the wife he wanted. She was kinder and he was less cruel. Then the whole thing with Leanarra erupted; and that seemed to trigger off madness in her that even the witch's spells and medicines could not calm. It made her want to steal away his only son; his heir to the throne. How could he forget as he let go of the woman and called over Yurak to do the honors. He crushed the rose petals with his feet. This was the anniversary of night when the Demon King destroyed the most precious thing he had ever owned. No, he thought, this was the night that he killed the woman that he loved. The only thing that made his miserable life worth living.

It had been years since he had made her do anything more than sit at the Festival of Kitor. He had learned his lesson and after Charak, all other challenges had stopped. It was not fair to entice his men with an untouchable woman and he did not relish going to the Arena anymore. It was a younger man's sport. Still, he forced her to go.

He still remembered their last fight. She was very agitated and she had not been herself for weeks un end. She was dressed and as always looked like some male fantasy come to life. He tried to take her there but she rebuffed him.

"Save if for your virgins." She pushed him away.

"I have not touched them in years. But I may change my mind tonight; you have turned me into a monk." Hs said.

"Not possible. I am your slave. If you wanted you could take me, or whatever slut, whenever you wanted. I could do nothing to stop you." She hissed.

"I will not rape my wife." He said.

"I am not your wife. I had a husband once and you killed him." She cried out. "The desire you saw in my eyes was never for you; I always pretended I was with him. Every time I made love to you I was thinking of him and every time you brought me to pleasure I closed my eyes and pretended it was him instead of you." She screamed back at him.

"You are lying. I am taking you to the Festival tonight and I will make you mine again in front of the gods themselves." He screamed as he rushed out of her chambers. He saw their son at the door wondering how much he heard. He was angry and made his way down to the reception hall earlier than usual. Not knowing who to talk to, he went looking for the witch. She usually calmed his anger, but tonight he fueled it. She plied him with drinks that instead of lulling his mood made him feel even more rage towards the woman he had made his Queen. The Great King sat on the witch's bed and cried. He felt his whole life had been nothing but a cruel game played by the dark lords. They had given him everything just to take it away.

That night would always haunt him. It, in the end, finished him off. Only rarely could he ever feel anything for anyone again. He still remembered the last time he saw her smile; this time it was not for him but for Lotor as she led him away. The witch was with him when he sent the hunters to track them down. She had told him something so disturbing that he hardly believed it himself. Had his head been clearer, had he not felt so much rage, he could have thought it through. Althea Carris, according to the witch, was going to kill their son. Looking back, he knew, no matter how insane she was acting, that she could have never done such a thing. He would have never let him leave with the boy had he actually believed that.

He looked on as the men were beginning to fight foe the women. Gavin, Timon's son, was actually doing quite well. He had already taken two women. He had his doubts about that boy but he seemed to be handling himself well. He was growing concerned about Lotor and sent a messenger to alert the guards.

It was Haggar who found him. He was passed out in her laboratory . It had been years since he had been in this part; avoiding it. Many places in the Castle had unhappy memories for the boy and this was one of them. She touched him but he did not budge, His skin was cool to the touch; his body was trying to put him into a healing coma. She called the guards to help her put him into a bed and to tell the king that the prince had been found. She had no idea why he was done here and not in the infirmary. She drew his blood and started her investigations. It did not take long for the computer to give her the readings she sought. The Great King was not amused at her findings.

Lotor woke up three days later in his makeshift hospital bed, the witch being the only other person in attendance. He sat up. His stomach was empty, his mouth parched and his head was pounding.

"Where am I?" He slowly said, not remembering much after he left the main hall.

"You are in the part of my lab that I do my medical experiments in." He nodded, taking in the room.

"I have been here once before. You sewed up my arm when Mitor bit me. You gave me something for the pain so I would stop crying." He swallowed.

"You were not crying because you were in physical pain. That's why you came here – looking for the elixirs that will take away the weight of your sins." The witch looked him over. He winced when she moved the blankets away started to pull out his catheter. She cackled as he blushed. She pointed to a bathroom. "There are clothes for you in there."

Haggar sighed. In the background she heard the water run. It had been many years since she had the prince come and visit her here. Mitor, the King's largest hunting dog had bit him in the woods. The boy returned covered in blood and his mother was screaming in the gardens for someone to come. Luckily, only Haggar was around. She was getting some medicinals for a potion. The boy was incoherent but had a look of totally contentment on his face. The boy only had a small wound; too small to account for the amount of blood that was splashed all over his body. Haggar saw the look in his eyes, the blood, and began to fret. She demanded that Althea not bring him to Nerok but to follow her. They washed the boy in that very bathroom and while Althea went to get him new clothes she repaired his arm. Then the boy out of nowhere began to scream; it was a terrible thing to hear and he would not stop it until Haggar gave him something to drink. It was bitter and they had to force it down his throat,

Finally, he calmed down enough to tell them what had happened. Mitor bit him and he became angry. Then, he said, he remembered no more." Haggar nodded, she seemed to understand. She demanded that he take her to where he had been with the dog. He was hesitant and Althea thought it best he should rest, but Haggar persisted. Lotor brought them to what was left of the mutilated corpse. Althea wondered who could have done such a thing. The ghoul dog was almost as large as she was; a massive beast with large jaws. The bite Lotor had would have been just a playful nip. If the dog wanted to he could have easily ripped off his arm let alone bite him.

"Mitor bit me. I killed Mitor. Father will be angry, it is his best dog." Tears were flowing down his cheeks. Haggar asked Althea to help her drag the body into a more secluded area. It was Korrinoth, it would be scavenged soon.

"The bloodlust is strong in him. It will be his undoing." Haggar whispered to Althea.

"Lotor is lying. He could have never done this. All he has is his small hunting knife." Althea said.

"You are thinking like a human. He has his teeth, and his claws, and he has the bloodlust. Lotor did this. If his father's warmasters find out about this they will kill him. Korrinoth is no place to raise a child afflicted with this. He needs a gentle environment." Haggar mused.

"Like Arus." Althea answered.

"Yes, like Arus." The witch said. "You must not tell Zarkon. He is bound by the Law to execute Lotor." The witch held back her joy as she saw the horror in the Queen's eyes. She knew the Law could be demanding in its punishments. That was the day when Haggar began to plot her return to Zarkon's bed, and hopefully, her rightful place as Queen of Doom. Had Althea told Zarkon what had happened he would have taught Lotor how he learned to control it; after all the feared trait had been handed down from time immemorial in the House of Daibaza'al; making them one of Korrinoth's famous warmaster families. He would have taught him discipline to control it and Althea would still be alive. She had not left Doom because of Zarkon; she left it because she was afraid that her son's life was forfeit.

Lotor came out of the bathroom; looking weak but better than he had several days before. She handed him a flask and a container full of a black powder.

"It will not show up on Imperial drug tests and it keeps your head clear." She pushed it into his hands.

"It is over. I am clean." He said, angry at her insistence to the contrary.

"The urge will come back. They will still make you do terrible things. You are a warmaster. When you drink this it will make it easier. It is what I prepare for your father's men. No one will think less of you for drinking it here. Even your father does."

Lotor stared at her. She was a horrid woman to behold; all wrinkles and flesh where there once was beauty.

"Fine, but I tell you I do not need this." He grabbed the containers and began to head out.

"Prince Lotor, the Great King requires your presence in the Main Hall. I suggest you make haste." She grabbed his arm as he started to leave. "He is angry about this. Act humble and hold your tongue."

Lotor dropped off the things in his rooms and found his way to his father's Court. His father's sharp insults were hurled down upon him. He had more than the usual of his warmasters in attendance and they listened and nodded with approval. In the corner of his eye, he saw Gavin there, a stupid smile plastered on his face. The only reason that they did not join in was that they still feared the Prince's sword. Lotor was finally dismissed. The transport taking him back to the Kiros would be departing late that evening. He did not have much to do but he decided the best thing was to lay low and keep out of everyone's way.

He was surprised when his father came up to say goodbye. The man looked at the tray in his room.

"You did not join me for dinner. Does this mean we are not speaking to each other? Considering your actions you should be thankful that all I gave you was a tongue lashing in Court." Zarkon said. He sat down on Lotor's white couch. His hand slid across the leather. "Your mother had exquisite taste." Lotor turned away and walked out onto the balcony. His room, like hers, overlooked the Western Sea. The lightening storms were beginning to start.

"When I was a child I was so frightened of the storms. She used to come in here and stay with me until I fell asleep. Now, when I see them it makes me happy. I feel like she is still here; keeping me safe." Lotor sighed. "I only wish I could have kept her safe that night she died. I will never attend a Festival of Kitor. It is the night you killed my mother. I remember everything." There was no anger in Lotor's voice, only sadness.

"It is done." Zarkon sighed.

Lotor turned to Zarkon. "Who was Hiro?" He saw his father rise up; his fists were balled as if he were going to hit him.

"He was a slave. He is long dead. Why bring up that name?" He snarled.

"It was the last thing she said to me. She said "Tell Zarkon, I lied about Hiro. None of it was true. Tell him, I finally learned to lie." Lotor was crying. "Father, you are a demon, you taught an Arusian to lie."

"Lotor..." Zarkon touched his shoulder but Lotor batted it away.

"Did it serve you to humiliate me in Court today?" Lotor looked at him. "Tell me, when does it stop? You have a head start this time, I am already broken and bleeding to death you just cannot see my wounds yet. Every time you look at me, you must know that a part of her, your lotor, still exists. You will never be free of her until I am destroyed."

"Always so arrogant. Leanarra and I get along fine. She looks so much more like Althea Carris than you ever will. There is no tension there. It could be the same with us." Zarkon said.

"Leanarra does not remind you of Althea Carris, but I do. To the grave we will be at each other's throats." Lotor turned and smirked." Were the words important." Lotor said.

"Devastating. She won." Zarkon said.

"Good. I saved them for a day like this." Lotor said. "You may strike me now." He stepped away from the balcony and faced his father.

"I am in no mood to fight with a Carris tonight. Lotor, the roses were a nice touch. You are a bastard." Zarkon wiped away a tear.

"I am the son of the Ice Queen, could you expect less?" Lotor bowed and Zarkon left. No, thought the old king, nothing less.