The entire village was painted red. Banners, flowers, clothing, everything gleamed the same dark, mournful shade of wine, the traditional Lepidoptan color of grief and heartache, and Klara absolutely hated it. She hated the smell of the rare incense her people only burned at funerals as it wafted through the air, its scent so pungent it made her eyes water. She hated how the usual sound of children playing and young musicians practicing their instruments had been replaced by lamenting wails and slow, woeful melodies played by seasoned hands. She hated look of agony on her mother's splotchy, tear-stained face, pain that words could never truly describe weighing heavily on her already fragile heart as she gazed upon the ornate caskets containing what remained of her husband and her father, all the while dabbing at her face with a handkerchief that was already thoroughly soaked. However, what angered her most was none of these things; what angered her the most was herself.
She couldn't focus. After all she had sacrificed, after all she had put herself through in order to arrive at this moment, she couldn't concentrate. Instead of lingering on the memories and love she held for her father and grandfather, her mind wandered aimlessly through a thick fog of swirling, distant worries that refused to disperse, leaving her feeling numb and detached from everything around her. No one else seemed to notice her apathy, either because her glassy stare resembled so well the gleam of unshed tears or because those around her were so caught up in their own grief that they were completely oblivious to everything else around them, but her heart still ached with shame and loathing as she internally cursed herself for her wickedness. A nauseating sourness permeated her mouth as she robotically pressed her lips in a farewell kiss to the gold-embellished glass of each coffin in turn, and though her people's faces gleamed with approval as she waltzed about in unison with her mother and grandmother in a final performance for the deceased king and prince, her movements felt stiff and unnatural to her own body for they lacked the passion and emotion that gave them meaning, without which they were no more than an empty, rehearsed routine. The comforting words and sympathetic smiles her people offered were lost on her as she deemed herself unworthy of any solace because of her disrespect to those that she claimed to cherish, and as everyone around her gathered to feast in honor of their two patriarchs, she chose instead to sit in somber, self-imposed solitude at the edge of the village square and gaze listlessly at the budding foliage of spring around her up until the familiar clack of armored boots broke her focus.
"Mind if I join you?"
Klara gave no response, so Lotor gracefully eased himself down beside her before depositing down in front of her the plate of food and goblet of wine he had been holding.
"I know it is probably the last thing you feel like doing, but you really should eat something, for your mother's sake if not your own." he continued, his usual silky tone laced with tenderness, as he shot a glance over his shoulder back at the crowd.
Klara's brow wrinkled in confusion, but upon following the prince's gaze, she soon realized what he meant. While the rest of the villagers sat in clusters on ornate rugs and chatted idly while they ate, her mother was hovering off along the edge of the dining area by herself, arms wound tightly around herself as her eyes darted anxiously from Klara and Lotor to the prince's generals, who had congregated on a single carpet that was set up several feet away from the rest, to the villagers and then back to her daughter again. A few servants tried on several occasions to offer her some food and drink, but Enoi sharply shooed them away each time before resuming her obsessive routine. Though the sensation was faint due to the fog still shrouding her mind, a trace of guilt did manage to pluck at the strings of her heart, and after staring at the plate before her for a tick or so, she reluctantly plucked one of the small fruits from the pile and brought it to her lips. The pulp tasted sickeningly sweet to her now, her tongue having grown used to the blander food that was served to the Galra prisoners, but she forced herself to keep eating until the entire thing was gone and then downed a large gulp of wine to cleanse her palate of the overwhelming sweetness. When she gazed at her mother once more, however, she was rewarded with the reassuring sight of her mother now picking at a small plate, though she continued to sneak glances up at her daughter and the Galra prince every so often in between bites, and for the first time that day, the corners of Klara's lips curved upwards ever so slightly. The somewhat peaceful moment didn't last long though, coming instead to an abrupt halt when a muffled snicker caught her attention and earned Lotor a questioning look.
"What?"
"You have a little something on your lip, my captain."
Klara's grin disappeared as her fingers flew to her mouth, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment when she felt the wet line of wine along her top lip. Hearing another chuckle, she shot Lotor a pointed glare.
"Are you going to help, or are you just going to sit there and laugh at me?" she growled rather tartly.
"Yes, yes, of course. My apologies. Here." Lotor twittered as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her, smirking at how quickly she snatched it from his hand. As she vigorously wiped away the stain, he continued with a suave purr before he could think and stop himself, "It's too bad that your people associate such a lovely shade of red with something as tragic as mourning; it is truly a pretty color on you."
Klara came to an immediate halt while Lotor fought the urge to bite his tongue till it bled; that comment had come completely out nowhere. However, to his surprise, Klara merely smiled again, though her bottom lip was starting to quiver.
"My father used to tell me that, but I always thought he said it just because he loved the color red. He actually tried to convince the village to choose a different color for funerals once, but my grandfather wouldn't have it…" she mumbled until her throat constricted so tightly that her vocal cords could hardly move and her lips started to tremble. Lotor sensed what was coming long before it happened, and spurred by pure impulse, he quickly enveloped Klara in a tight embrace just as her first woeful wail broke through the air. Her body molded like warm clay against his shape as he pulled her to him, one hand guiding her face into the crook of his neck while his other arm coiled around her middle just below her wings. He could feel the scalding gazes of Enoi and several of the other villagers on his back but he didn't care. At that moment, all that mattered to him was Klara as he comfortingly stroked her hair and listened to her sobs, his heart wrenching at each pained cry.
"I've made a mistake, Lotor. I've made an awful mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"I've sacrificed the lives of those who trusted me, and for what? For two dead men! My crew, my friends, they all are either dead or bound in chains because of me, and my people are now captives of the Galra Empire. All of that loss for something as futile as the remains of two corpses, and that isn't even the worst of it! After all that I have been through, all my crew and I have given up, I can't even focus long enough to pay proper respects to my father and grandfather because I'm too busy worrying about how I am now going to fix this giant mess I've made. I can't decide who that is a bigger insult to! What was I thinking, Lotor? How could I be so reckless and stupid?! None of them deserve this. This was my mission and dream, not theirs; I should be the only one that suffers for it, not them!"
Lotor did not answer right away, choosing every word of his response with the utmost care, and when he did finally speak, his voice was as cool and soft as a morning breeze, its calmness alone combating some of Klara's swelling anxiety as it whispered in her ear, "Perhaps your mission started as a quest to retrieve the wings of your father and grandfather, but I think that as time went on and more people joined you in your pursuits, it evolved into something far greater. On the day your father and grandfather perished, you were exposed to a much greater and more savage universe than you had known, but instead of relenting to it, you rather rose to challenge it, a spark that would later inspire and spread to those you surrounded yourself with. Your ranks may have been small, but you offered your men something they might not have had otherwise, something they were willing to suffer or even die for."
"Maybe so, but that doesn't solve the predicament they are in now or justify me putting them there." Klara refuted bitterly, raising her head from his shoulder and taking another sip of wine to chase away the vile, nauseating taste that was attempting to creep into her mouth once again. "Not to mention that I have no idea where I'm supposed to take things from here or what I'm supposed to do now, and that scares me. What do I do?"
"You breathe." Lotor crowed as he gently cupped her face in his hands and gingerly ran his fingers over her soaked cheeks to clear away some of her tears. "You don't have to have everything figured out right away; when the time is right, it will come to you. In the meantime, you just have to breathe and take each day one at a time."
Klara couldn't explain why, but even Lotor's touch she found reassuring, causing her to lean into one of his hands while her own rose up to tightly clasp his wrist. "What about my men and my people? I don't have time to sit around and wait for my solution. The longer I take to figure this out, the longer they will continue to suffer. How do I justify taking my time with circumstances like that?"
A pitying smile stretched across Lotor's face, perfectly mirroring the sympathy that gleamed in his eyes. "I know it's hard, but you have to remember that you yourself are just as mortal as they are. There is only so much you can do at times, and there are certain limits you simply can't overcome."
"So I'm just supposed to sit back and do nothing then?"
"I never said that."
"Then what are you saying?!"
Lotor fought back the urge to chuckle at the fire in Klara's remark, a glimpse of her true resilient nature that still burned beneath her gloom. "I'm saying that while you may not be able to come up with any permanent solutions to your problems right now, together you and I may be able to at least come up with some temporary ones."
The steeliness of Klara's expression began to melt away, softened by the warmth of the hope that was steadily beginning to grow inside her once again despite doubt's overwhelming presence. "And why would you do that? After all I did to you, why would you help me?"
"Because ultimately I want what you want: peace." Lotor hissed, unconsciously leaning closer to Klara as he spoke. "I want a universe where we all live in peace with one another, not as the conquerors and the conquered but as allies."
"If that's what you want then why can't you just let us all go?"
Once again, Lotor's face grew a little sad as he tentatively tucked a strand of Klara's shimmering hair behind her ear before slipping his fingers beneath her chin, forcing her eyes to continue intently staring into his. "Sadly, the rest of the Galra do not yet share my dream. My father brainwashed them all into seeing the universe in only one way, so implementing such a large change too quickly will hurt my mission more than help it."
"So what do we do now?"
"We start out small and subtle, implementing little changes here and there that will gradually grow and spread as the Galra become more accustomed to the idea of a new kind of empire. That is my plan."
It seemed too good to be true, but no matter how meticulously they searched, Klara's doubts could find no loophole or flaw in Lotor's words, a fact that made her heart race with excitement as she contemplated whether or not to voice what was on her mind. Lotor must have been able to tell that she wanted to say something because he inched closer to her still and offered her a reassuring smile.
"What is it? You can tell me."
"I...I want my crew to be placed under protection from Haggar." It was a selfish request and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself. If she had even the slightest chance of improving her comrades' lives the she was going to take it.
"I'll do what I can." Lotor promised with a purr, a wave of relief washing over him as he watched the light slowly return to Klara's eyes and face. However, as he continued to stare, the light soon became too bright for him to look at and too warm for him to be so close to her, so he politely but quickly drew back and averted his eyes as he waited for the heat in his face and neck to disappear, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.
"This is that feeling again, the one she told me she could make go away." he thought to himself with an inkling of panic, yet as he sat there and focused on it, he soon realized that the sensation wasn't quite as unpleasant as he remembered. In fact, it was rather invigorating. The way his entire body seemed to be buzzing with energy but also oozing tranquility and peace made him feel more awake and alert and optimistic; it made him feel alive.
"Lotor, are you alright?"
Hearing Klara's voice in his ear and feeling in her hand on his arm, Lotor turned around only to freeze when he found Klara's face a mere breadth away from his own, her gorgeous cerulean orbs glittering with concern. At first, he felt like he couldn't breathe, his breath having been stolen from him by those beautiful eyes, but the longer he stared into them, the more he realized that he had to say something.
"I...I"m fine. I was just thinking." he eventually managed to stutter, mentallying chastising himself as his own lips and tongue failed him. Thinking quickly, he snatched up another piece of fruit and held it out to Klara, hoping to distract her while he slid his usual suave, sly mask back into place. "You need to eat some more. If I'm not mistaken, you still have another dance to perform before the night is over, and I don't think you passing out in the middle of it from lack of sustenance will warrant a positive response."
Now it was Klara how giggled, a sweet, merry that sent Lotor's heart into another series of convulsions. "You really need to stop researching my people. It's getting kind of creepy."
"Well pardon me for wanting to be culturally sensitive." Lotor chirped in mock offense, earning more of the wonderful tittering noises from Klara that he was now starting to crave. Unfortunately, just as the atmosphere around them began to take on a certain lightness, a dark shadow suddenly fell over them, both figuratively and literally.
"Sir, we just received a radio transmission from the team currently working on the project. There's been….an injury. They're awaiting your orders on how to proceed." Acxa recited rather bluntly as her eyes flitted distastefully from Klara to Lotor.
Klara noticed Lotor's expression visibly darken, and for a second she could have sworn that he shot an apprehensive glance in her direction. Yet, her eyes must have been tricking her, for when she blinked, the prince's face was entirely normal as he now loomed over her, his hand politely outstretched for her to take.
"I apologize for this interruption. I shouldn't be more than a moment." he chirped apologetically as he pulled her to feet, turning his head slightly to the side so his eyes would not become locked with hers once more and thus expose his inner trouble.
"No, no, it's alright. Do what you must. I'm sorry that this who ordeal has kept you away from your duties for so long."
Smiling to himself, Lotor swiftly scanned his immediate surroundings, and upon finding what he desired, he delicately plucked the largest and prettiest blossom out of the nearest bouquet and wordlessly tucked it behind Klara's ear, purposely ghosting his fingers over the shell of her ear just to rattle her before uttering his final words for her.
"Do not worry about anything else for now; there will be time for that later. Be with your people and focus on the moment before you."
In that moment, Klara's tongue forgot how to before its function, so she merely nodded in understanding. Her eyes remained glued to the prince's back as he followed Acxa over to the other generals, all of whom were scowling at her, and while foreboding murmurs still echoed in the back of her head, their voices had grown so quiet that she barely heard them now. Taking the flower Lotor had adorned her with, she gazed thoughtfully down at it for a moment, and for the first time, it dawned on her that perhaps her father and the prince were right about its color being somewhat appealing. Perhaps she didn't hate it so much after all.
"You didn't eat any of this did you?!"
Startled by the sheer volume of her mother's voice in her ear, Klara jumped a little where she stood before spinning around to find Enoi standing directly behind her, her already aged features carved into a look of complete horror as her eyes bounced between her daughter and the tray of food that she had retrieved from the ground.
Klara's brow wrinkled in confusion, and she carefully inserted her flower back into her hair just above the ornate clip at the back of her head before responding, "Yes?"
"Klara! He could have poisoned it! Please tell me you at least didn't drink the wine?!"
"I did."
"Oh my….for the love of the stars, Klara! Have you no sense at all?!"
"They're not poisoned, mother. Lotor isn't stupid enough to try such a thing here." Klara remarked rather flatly, her head now beginning to throb because of her mother's shrill squeals.
"You don't know that! He's a Galra, Klara! Of what value is your life to him?" Enoi continued to wail.
"It is apparently of some value if he has kept me alive this long!" Klara snapped back, irritated now. However, she soon came to regret her reaction when her mother shrank back from her, looking both surprised and hurt.
"I'm sorry." she quickly blurted, cheeks burning as her heart clenched in her chest.
Enoi's eyes dropped to the floor at her feet. "...Come and dine with your people, Klara. You shouldn't isolate yourself."
"Yes mother."
Following Enoi quietly over to the crowd of dining Lepidoptans, she immediately dropped down onto the first rug she saw that had no other occupants, but seclusion soon proved unattainable as her mother dropped down beside her after obtained a fresh plate of food and two new cups of wine.
"What were the two of you discussing?" Enoi inquired rather coldly between bites of fruit, watching the removed company of Galra out of the corner of her eye as she ate.
"He was trying to comfort me, nothing more."
"And you're certain he didn't poison the food and drink he gave you?"
"Mother!"
"I have every right to worry, Klara!"
"And what good would it do him to kill me here and now, in front of the entire village?!"
"He's a Galra, Klara!"
"He's half Galra!"
"So?"
Klara gave an irritated huff. "Forget it."
Sighing, Enoi's expression started to soften as she gingerly placed her hand overtop of her daughter's. "I'm sorry….I just worry. His people are the whole reason we are having this funeral in the first place."
"If not for him, we wouldn't have father and grandfather's wings back at all."
"You are not wrong, but I….I just don't trust him."
In truth, Klara couldn't blame her mother. Unlike herself, Enoi only knew Lotor as a conqueror and the son of Zarkon; she had not gotten to see the sides of him that Klara had, the soft, vulnerable, compassionate side of him. Even after witnessing such parts of his personality, even she was still wary of him, so what could she expect from someone who hardly knew him at all?
"Everything will be alright, mother. You just have to trust me." she crowed softly, taking her mother's hand in her own and giving it a comforting squeeze.
The corners of Enoi's eyes and lips wrinkled slightly as her lips took the shape of a forlorn smile. "I know. I just wish I could do more."
"I know, mother. I know."
As Klara watched, Enoi's demeanor unexpectedly started to shift. After glancing from side to side over her stiff shoulders, she suddenly slipped her hand up into one of her sleeves and withdrew from it a small, clear vial filled with a red liquid so dark it almost appeared brown or even black, which she hastily shoved into the hands of her puzzled daughter.
"At least take this. Knowing you have some way of protecting yourself will be of some ease to my mind." she said in a hushed whisper, her eyes once again darting around her to ensure that none had observed their exchange.
"Mother...is this what I think it is? How did you get this?!"
"I made it."
"You what?"
Enoi's eyes took on a somewhat prideful sparkle. "Even I have my special talents, Klara. Now would you put that away before somebody sees it?!"
Unsure of what else to do, Klara slid the vial into the pocket of her dress, where it burned hot against her leg despite being cool to the touch. The nauseous feeling had suddenly returned to her stomach, destroying her appetite once again, so she shakily rose to her feet and averted her eyes from her mother.
"I...I think I'm going to go practice my other dance a few more times. I didn't get to go over it as much as the other one and I want to do everyone proud."
"I know you will, but do what you think is best." Enoi answered, quickly adding before her daughter could slip away, "Klara, you know I love you and want what is best for you, right?"
"I know."
"Good. Go on then."
Klara didn't even bother with a forced smile for her mother before hurrying off as quickly as she could back out of the crowd, her mother's gift weighing down her pocket like a mound of pure lead. As she wove her way between the many mats of villagers, she began to notice that her mother wasn't the only one who was watching Lotor. Dozens of hostile eyes took turns glaring at the prince's back, shooting him looks that would have killed him many times if they had had the power to do so, and the adrenaline coursing through her left her shaking. Forcing herself to look away, she quickened her pace as she drew nearer to the edge of the crowd, but just as she was about to cross into the open, one of the seated suddenly stood up right in front of her, causing the two of them to collide.
"Lady Klara, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you! Are you alright?"
"It's alright, Torc. I'm fine." Klara said rather robotically as they separated. As she meet his gaze, she soon remembered one of the other goals she had wanted to obtain during her time back home. "Actually, do you have a moment? I wanted to talk to you about something."
"There's something I need to ask you about to actually." Torc muttered rather sheepishly.
Eying a spacious patch of shade nearby, Klara beckoned for Torc to follow her and, upon reaching it, sat down with her legs and arms outstretched. "Act like you're just helping me stretch."
"Alright."
Once Torc had sat down in a position that mirrored her own and firmly grabbed hold of her wrists, Klara started to talk as he pulled her towards him, causing her to bend forward, "Have you heard any word from Coban's family?"
"Yes, I did. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Torc replied uneasily.
Klara's shot her friend a questioning look. "What did they say?"
"They said thank you for returning the medal and that they hoped you were doing alright."
"Alright might be a bit of a stretch, but I'm enduring."
Torc didn't laugh; in fact, he didn't respond at all, something Klara found rather unsettling. Pulling herself free from his grasp, she sat up straight and looked him dead in his wide, anxious eyes.
"What's the matter?"
"Klara, how did Coban's family get his medal?"
"What do you mean? Coban died in battle in a Galra arena, so I negotiated for you to be given the medal to send to his family…."
Klara's voice broke off as the heavy weight of realization rammed full force into her chest, knocking the air from her lungs and breaking more than a few things.
"Klara?" Torc called worriedly, sounding almost a little frightened.
Klara barely heard Torc at all as her gaze snapped to Lotor, her entire body burning hot as the sick feeling in her stomach was usurped and replaced by something far, far worse. He hadn't; he didn't.
There was no other explanation. He did.