Shadows of the Past

By Cheezey

Eyes bright with childlike urgency, the little girl went to the divan upon which her mother sat reading a book and tugged at the hem of her satin dress, ornate as was appropriate for her royal title and colored a dark, rich plum appropriate of such station. In her past the girl's mother had been fond of pink and white and brighter, cheerier colors, but those were hues of much happier and innocent days. Though they once suited her well, time and circumstance had changed her enough that she rarely wore them anymore. Such colors certainly did not fit in where she was now, and if the truth were to be told, they reminded her of times long past that, while happy in some ways, were best left buried in the depths of fond memory.

"Mommy!"

Allura lifted her eyes from her book, a leather bound fiction written in standard language imported at some expense from a Galaxy Alliance world, and absently patted her daughter's head. "Mommy's reading now, Lilyra," she said gently. "And shouldn't you still be with your tutor?"

The girl's small powder blue hands clenched at the dark purple fabric of her mother's sleeve with an impatient insistence. "No," she said in a slightly defiant tone. "I finished." It was not a bold faced lie, although not entirely the truth, for she had finished her lesson. The child was smart and generally went through her lessons quickly, but she was also high strung and the tutors could not get her to spend any extra time doing extra learning work unless it was something Lilyra wanted to. The youngest of three children, she was the only female and quite spoiled in some ways. Her father spent more time teaching things to his sons when he spent time with his children at all, and although he was not as cruel to the children as Allura once might have expected him to be, his attention spent on Lilyra was generally more in the form of indulging her whims for dresses, dolls, toys, and trinkets. Allura had voiced her concerns about her becoming a brat, but her voice carried little weight in that court. It wasn't like how it was on Arus, so there was only so much she could do without being undermined.

"You finished?" Allura asked with a suspicious raise of her eyebrow, and glanced at her timepiece. "In forty two minutes?"

The child gave an emphatic nod yes. "Uh huh. So you can read me a story now, right Mommy?" She tugged at her sleeve again.

Allura looked down at her child with rueful fondness, at her pretty features, her haunting drule eyes, and her champagne hair tied in black ribbons and sighed. She certainly was her father's daughter. He never took "no" for an answer either. Allura had learned that the hard way years ago, when Lotor had successfully taken her and the rest of the Voltron force captive before they had been able to form the once great defender of the universe. She had learned it when he delivered the ultimatum to marry him or else, in front of them all and in front of his own wicked allies, while her friends were held at gunpoint. That day she had also learned that defying Lotor did little good when in a situation like that, and that as much as she believed she meant it when she said she would never marry him no matter what he said or did, that she did not once she saw the robot holding Pidge hostage pull the trigger and drop him in an instant.

By the grace of the gods the pilot of the green lion had survived the wound—a painful blast to the back that he carried an ugly scar and occasional reminding twinges of pain from to that day—but thinking that she had been responsible for his death for even an instant flooded her with unimaginable guilt. And when she saw the other robots raise their weapons, when she saw Haggar and Cossack sneering back at her in smug victory, and especially when she saw that one robot roughly shove his weapon against Keith's temple…

She caved.

"All right," she had screamed in horror to Lotor. "I'll marry you! Just let them go, just stop hurting them, just stop," she had wailed in anguish, her voice shrill with the flood of emotion.

Surprisingly enough, Lotor retained enough honor somewhere in the recesses of his twisted soul that he granted her request. Perhaps it was because he was satisfied to finally attain that which he so obsessively sought, or perhaps it was because he knew that if he actually slaughtered them all in front of her he ran the risk of driving her over the edge, of plunging her into a vengeful and grief-wracked state that would have permanently snuffed out the very kindness and innocence that appealed to him so. It was even possible that Lotor really did love her in his twisted way, and he did not want to cause her any undue pain—ultimately what he wanted was her, after all. Maybe that was why the robot's shot did not kill Pidge. Allura would never know, though, because she would not ask. Lotor would likely never admit to it anyhow, and even if he did, she had no way of trusting that what he said was not a lie to curry her favor. Besides, what was done was done, and there was no use in mulling over events that could not be changed. The fact of it was that Lotor had honored his word for whatever reason, and right there in Zarkon's court, right on the very spot that Zarkon had ordered the execution of Lotor's mother countless years before, a high priest of Doom had married them.

And Allura's life as she knew it ended forever.

After the ceremony Lotor had ordered the Voltron Force men off the planet and gave them only a gracious enough lead to escape alive without pulling anything sneaky to retrieve Allura. Much as they would have wanted to try they could not anyway. Time was of the essence in saving Pidge's life and they had no choice but to leave. Allura would never forget the way big, strong Hunk had scooped his fallen comrade up into his arms with tears in his eyes or the hateful glare Lance had cast in their direction as she saw them for the last time. She wanted to believe that Lance's anger was only toward Lotor, but as time passed she came to the realization that it might well have been at both of them for making the decision she did. The boys' military training taught them not to trust the bargains offered by tyrannical types like Lotor, but she was not military. She was a naïve and kindhearted princess who could not bear to see her friends suffer and there was no other decision she could have made.

Worst of all had been the look on Keith's face. The way he looked at her, the hints of strongly controlled emotion that crossed his heroic and stoic features when she had agreed to Lotor's cruel demands, was burned into her mind forever, as was the flash of hurt and betrayal she saw in the wince he made when the priest declared her marriage to Lotor sealed. How she had wanted to run to him, to tell Lotor to do something indecent to himself, and throw caution to the wind and gamble on their nonexistent chances of escape at that moment! But she had duty to think of, a duty of loyalty to those she loved, and no matter how much she loved Keith—and yes, though it was destined to never be consummated or realized in the way she often dreamed—she would not risk his life on such odds. Not when it was in her power to save him.

Even if saving Keith meant losing him forever.

Even if saving Keith meant losing herself to Lotor forever.

Even if it meant regretting it for every day and every night for the rest of her long life.

Over the years she heard very little about Keith or the others on the former Voltron Force. After the wedding Lotor had wasted no time and quickly isolated her in his chambers with him. Within an hour after their ceremony ended Doom's prince saw to it that their union was consummated. He had not raped her—in his twisted way, Lotor loved her too much to violate her by brute force the way he had Romelle, but he had made his desires clear and the defeated Allura knew that she truly had made her bed and must lie in it. Denying Lotor for a night or two would only delay the inevitable, for eventually the prince would grow too impatient and disregard whatever bit of Doomite chivalry held him back from forcing her, and she was still numb enough from the reality of what had just happened that she was only concerned with her own survival. The experience had been surreal to her until after it was over. She did not particularly enjoy it for the union was loveless and physical, and certainly not the stuff of fantasies that a girl dreamt of…

Fantasies about a man of her dreams that would woo her with amazing romance and sweep her off her feet. A noble man she formed a soul bond with that would shower her with adoration, affection, unwavering loyalty, and make love to her on a bed of roses. A knight in shining armor to save her from the bad guys… and for Allura, a pilot in a shining black lion who would do anything for her, who would give his very life for hers… and for whom she would do the same. Allura remembered how as Lotor took her virginity, she cried out—not tears of pleasure or physical pain, but at the loss of her dream, the loss of her prince, a prince by deed and soul rather than title like the one who had his way with her that night.

The days turned into weeks and after a time they all seemed to blend together in her memory. Lotor agreed to keep separate quarters from her so she had privacy, but he still visited them far too often for her taste. Soon she found herself with child, and as her condition made her increasingly unable to satisfy Lotor the way he wanted, he started frequenting his harem more often to satisfy the more lustful and animalistic urges that Allura would not. Strangely, she realized that Lotor loved her enough to not force her into the more demeaning acts he demanded of his slaves, though why that was she did not understand. After some thought she chose not to question why and was simply relieved that was the way it was.

As the years passed, Allura came to genuinely care about Lotor and she adjusted as well as could be expected into the role she had been forced into. She bore Doom's prince one son, then another, and finally the daughter that was with her in the room that day. She would never love Lotor the way he wanted, but she did love all of their children. For their sake she would never wish harm on their father, and if the truth were to be told she harbored a measure of feeling for him. It was not rooted in love, though, but compassion and pity. Living in Castle Doom Allura learned quickly just how cruel and dysfunctional Zarkon's relationship with Lotor was, and that Lotor's father was a large part of the reason why Lotor was the way he was. It did not excuse it, but it did explain it.

Then there were times when Lotor showed her, inadvertently or not, moments of conscience and true vulnerability, and those rare glimpses into his soul gave Allura hope that he was not truly beyond redemption. She was not pleased to be the one put up to the task of redeeming him, but she did suppose that someone like her was good for Lotor. If nothing else, he acted more human than he would otherwise have when she was around, and his desire to spare the one he loved the distress of something she hated as much as she did unnecessary bloodshed spared a number of innocent souls in and of itself.

But love? No, Allura would never love Lotor, at least not the way he wanted her to. There was only one man Allura would ever truly love…

A heavy feeling of sadness came over Allura every time she thought about Keith. The same feeling filled her whenever she heard a tidbit of news about any of the former members of the Voltron Force, but news of Keith affected her far more strongly than anything else. Those updates were rare, for under both Lotor and Zarkon's orders Allura was kept very sheltered in Castle Doom. She was told in a moment of blunt honesty by Lotor that it was to keep her from escaping as well as it was to protect her life. A human bride was politically unpopular when there were eligible princesses of Drule lineage or alliance that Lotor could well have married, and Doomites as a whole were snobs and felt humans inferior to them. Lotor had confided in her that his mother—also human—had been unpopular with the nobility of Doom and political pressure and rumors originating from them, the allied governors, and Haggar that painted her in a bad light were what turned Zarkon's hand to dispose of her. Lotor seemed to not believe the rumors that his mother and the former Queen of Doom would ever have plotted against Zarkon, but Zarkon certainly had, else he would not have ordered his own wife's execution.

Still despite her isolation, trusted servants—she refused to acknowledge them as slaves and always treated her attendants with dignity—would repay her kindness with what gossip they could learn. She found out in time that Pidge recovered from the gunshot wound and was treated by the best doctors in the Alliance. The Voltron force recruited Sven to take back the helm of blue lion in her absence and continued to use the mighty robot to fight injustices where they could. On a personal level, she heard very little. A few years later rumor got back to her that Hunk had fallen in love with a girl from Arus, and that Lance had been promoted several levels in the Alliance hierarchy to attain a rank nearly equal to Keith's. It was not until years after that that she heard anything specific about Keith. When she did, it was bittersweet.

Allura would never forget the day that her servant and close confidant Nysteis, a half-breed slave born on Doom to a Polluxian born mother and a Doomite soldier that had forced himself on her, told her that she had news of the black lion pilot that she still ached for to that day.

Keith was happily married.

The ivory-handled hairbrush in Allura's hand had clattered to the ground and her eyes clouded with tears. On some level those tears were genuinely happy. Allura would never have wanted to see Keith unhappy or lonely for the rest of his days, and if anyone deserved to be loved it was him. He was everything a woman could want—kindhearted, loyal, strong, smart, and handsome. It would have been unrealistic and selfish to think that no other woman would see in him what she had, or that he would pine for her forever when she had been the one to make the decision that it impossible for them to ever love each other as they might otherwise have. No more than Keith could have expected her to not give herself to Lotor or make her situation—a situation she put herself in out of love for him—livable as she could, could Allura expect Keith to not get on with his life.

Then why did it hurt so much to think about, even years later?

Because I still love him, Allura thought as she blinked back a fresh wave of sad tears while her daughter looked on. Gods help me, I still love him and miss him and wish that could be me at his side.

"Mommy!" Lilyra's tone was even more demanding and it snapped her out of her thoughts. "Please?"

Forcing back the tears of her conflicting emotions, Allura met the gaze of her daughter. Though she loved Lilyra with all her heart and knew that if she'd had her dream she would not have her or either of her two older brothers whom she loved with equal intensity, it was hard to not get caught up in all of her regrets when the memories came…

"Mommy's reading her own story now," she explained patiently to the girl.

"Can't you read that one to me?"

Allura glanced down at the book. It was a romance novel, a story about a woman who loved a man she could never have. It had a complex and intense plot, and some racy parts definitely not appropriate for a girl her daughter's age, but partway through it looked as though the hero would get the girl, and Allura loved those kinds of stories.

She picked up her bookmark, closed the book, and patted the cushion beside her. Lilyra immediately climbed up beside her, and Allura smoothed a gentle hand over her silky hair. "I don't know if you'd like this book. How about I tell you a story instead?"

Satisfied with that offer, Lilyra leaned against her mother and smiled. "Okay. What's it about?"

Smiling back at her, Allura answered, "A noble prince who flew a big black lion ship in a world far from here…"

The End