The New Order
Part Two
By Cheezey
The mood was far more somber in the green, yellow, and red lions as they flew home to Arus. The four Voltron Force pilots barely said a word to each other as they flew home, mulling over the shocking news in their own ways. Lance was so angry that he could barely see straight, let alone talk about it. To him, Allura's decision was no less than a betrayal—unintentional, perhaps, but one that he found hard to reconcile or forgive. Though he was young, he was a cynical soul, and he shared none of the faith she seemed to have that Lotor would honor a single word he uttered to her. He fully expected him and Zarkon to enslave and further decimate Arus under their rule, and the fact that she did not see that, and had not even trusted the rest of her own team and friends enough to so much as discuss it with them hurt him deeply on a personal level.
Hunk too was angry, although less so at Allura than he was at Lotor. A part of him still clung to the belief that there was something else afoot, mental or magical manipulation at the hands of Merla or the witch, or that Allura had in some other way been tricked or misled. He did not feel as overtly betrayed as Lance, but like his friend he was also worried about what would happen to the people of Arus, and everyone else without Voltron. The thought of abandoning his lion and turning it over to have who knows what happen to it felt like someone ordering him to destroy a faithful pet that had bitten someone who provoked it. It ran against his very grain and as a result he piloted home in a broody silence.
Though Pidge and Keith shared the ride home in the green lion, little conversation took place between them as each was lost in his thoughts. Pidge was heartsick over the mess. He had already lost so much in his young life—his parents, his siblings who he saw only rarely, then his entire home world at the hands of Zarkon and Lotor. The thought of losing his new home and members of his surrogate family was almost too much to bear. While Allura had promised he could stay on Arus, what was the point of doing so if Hunk, Lance, and Keith were all forbidden to be there? And where would they go without their lions? Back to Earth, to get reassigned by the Galaxy Alliance? To Pollux, where Sven had been welcomed by Romelle and Bandor? He did not know; he only knew that he liked none of those options and just wanted things to be the way they were.
Keith was quietest of all. So many thoughts churned in his head that the long ride passed quickly, although not pleasantly. Allura's decision had hurt him on levels he not even known possible. In his eyes, her decision was pure insanity. He understood that she was kind-hearted and trusting, and that she was still very naïve in the way she always had to believe the best about people. Those were qualities he admired in her. Her compassion and willingness to forgive were what made her such a special person, one of the reasons she was beloved by her friends and her people. Unfortunately it also made her easy to manipulate, and that was exactly what he believed Lotor had done and would now do until the end of her days.
The hard expression that had been on his face when he left Castle Doom was still present as he watched the monitor. How could she do it? Knowing the reason why had not helped make it any easier to accept, especially when he did not understand it beyond an intellectual level. The pragmatic Keith did not run on Allura's emotional wavelength, and as much as he cared about her—much more than he could bear to admit given that it was something obviously meant never to be—he could not wrap his mind around Allura, or any sane woman, actively choosing to marry the man responsible for so much suffering on her world.
Yes, Lotor had saved her life. But Lotor was also the reason it had been imperiled to begin with, and in Keith's opinion at least that severely undermined any heroic praise it merited. Was Lotor completely evil with no redeeming traits and did he deserve to die? Perhaps not. People could change, and Keith did believe that in his twisted way, Lotor probably did care about Allura. That did not excuse his actions, however, and Keith thought someone like Lotor deserved at best to rot in a cell somewhere for the rest of his days where he could never harm anyone again. At any rate, he believed wholeheartedly that there must have been a better answer than what Allura had so impulsively done! Had she just gone to them, to him; had she trusted…
His lips pressed together more thinly. He could not think about that any more. It just hurt too much. To think about how one of his closest friends, a trusted member of his team, someone he had known so well…
Maybe we didn't know her so well after all. Maybe she really wasn't a team player, and she is as irresponsible and immature as Nanny treats her.
Keith did not really believe that in his heart, but it was easy to think in that moment, and in light of the emotional blow he had been dealt such thoughts were the best immediate defense he had. Because if he did not believe that, if he had known her so well, shouldn't he have seen it coming and been able to stop her? After all, if Allura had made that decision to marry Lotor and bind her world and herself to him not in a moment of impulsive foolishness but in calm, rational thought, then maybe it meant that Allura had a valid reason to put that sort of trust in Lotor. Maybe it meant that a part of her wanted to be with Lotor, and that was even harder for Keith to bear.
"Almost home," Pidge's voice cut into Keith's thoughts.
"Yeah." Keith's voice was uncharacteristically flat as the bright orb that was planet Arus came clearly onto their view screens.
"Guess we get to break the happy news now," Hunk's sour tone came over the speakers.
"Yeah, and then pack our bags," Lance's embittered voice responded. "I can hardly wait."
"Better that Coran and Nanny hear it from us than Galaxy Garrison, or worse, Lotor," Keith said resignedly. "And we might as well get it over with." The conversation then ended as the lions descended onto Arus and returned to their respective dens in the forest, volcano, and earth. Each of the pilots felt heartsick knowing that it was likely the last time they would ever fly in those ships, which felt almost like an extension and a part of them. Keith felt another pang of regret and loss as he thought about the black lion and how it sat waiting for its pilot to return to it at Galaxy Garrison, but Allura still held the key to it. He wondered what would become of his lion and the others.
"I'm gonna miss you," Keith heard Pidge say softly to the green lion as they disembarked, and he saw the shorter pilot pat its claw in an affectionate manner. The two of them then made their way into the castle proper, and they reached the control room around the same time Lance and Hunk did.
As soon as they came in an anxious Coran and Nanny greeted them, eyeing them with hope that turned to panic as soon as they realized Allura was not with them. "Where is my baby?" Nanny demanded heatedly.
"You didn't answer our hails when we saw you approach," Coran said, a dreadful feeling rising in him as he took in the expressions of the Voltron Force men. "I hoped it just meant our systems were malfunctioning or that Allura wanted to speak to us in person…"
Nanny was adamant, and her panic became more evident. "Where is the princess?"
Keith decided the direct approach was best. There was no nice way to break the news, so he figured he might as well just say it flat out. "She's with Lotor."
Both Nanny and Coran's eyes went wide. "What?" the latter asked, while the former paled visibly.
"You were supposed to rescue her!" Nanny howled in outrage. "How dare you come back without her, leave her in the hands of that—that scoundrel! You call yourselves heroes, how could you—"
"She wanted to be there, lady," Lance snapped angrily. "We don't like it any more than you do, so don't give us crap because she has it for brains!"
Too angry upon hearing that to even take umbrage at his crude language, Nanny leaned forward and drew breath to yell again, but Coran cut her off before she could. "Wanted to be there?" he exclaimed in shock. "What are you talking about?"
Hunk stepped between Nanny and Lance to defray their confrontation. "She stayed there of her own free will," the yellow lion pilot explained. "She married Lotor."
"What? You're joking," Nanny declared with a dubious look on her face.
Pidge shook his head. "I wish we were."
Coran looked from the youngest pilot to the team leader. "Keith?"
The black lion pilot nodded solemnly. "It's the truth. She married him all right. Back at Galaxy Garrison."
"Why?" asked the castle keeper with a gasp.
"My baby wouldn't do that." Nanny's tone was insistent, but with an unmistakable note of desperation.
"She said she did it to save Lotor's life. She didn't want to see him executed, and there was some law that said she could bring a family member to Arus if they were a prisoner." Keith shook his head. "That's what she told us."
"Was she under a spell? Forced?" Coran asked as his mind reeled from the news.
"Yes," Nanny chimed in, "Maybe trickery from that nasty old witch."
The black lion pilot's head shook again. "No. At least I don't think so."
"They let us land in peace and everything," Pidge said.
"I thought that was funny," Hunk muttered, shaking his head sadly. "We should've smelled some kind of rat."
"It stank all right," Lance said darkly, and folded his arms. "But Keith didn't tell you all the good news. Not only did she stay there with her new hubby, Arus is now part of their empire."
"Yes, it would be if what you're telling us is true," Coran whispered weakly, while Nanny clutched at his arm for support.
"May the divine help us," the governess whispered. Fear had become evident on her plump features, fear for Allura, for themselves, and for Arus as a whole.
"Zarkon did mention one thing while the princess was arguing with him," Pidge said.
"Yeah, arguing about not shooting us," Hunk muttered with a groan.
"He said something about a contract. I'm guessing she made some kind of agreement with Lotor about that before the ceremony, and from what they said it sounded like she got him to agree to let citizens of Arus be Drule Empire citizens if they took the planet into the empire. So you guys and any Arus citizens will probably be okay, not enslaved or anything," he offered with as much of an encouraging note as he could muster.
"As all right as any unwilling citizens of a new regime, I suppose, and assuming he honors that agreement." Coran closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "Oh dear… oh, this is terrible."
Nanny let go of Coran and wrung her hands. "Coran, can't you find out something from Galaxy Garrison about this and what we can do? What the boys can do to get our baby back here?"
"There's nothing we can do," Lance told her bluntly. "Because they also made another part of that agreement very clear—Arus keeps the lions, but since we're not Arusians, we have to go… within 24 hours, or all bets are off, according to Lotor." He glanced at Pidge. "Except him, since Allura gave him citizenship."
"Hey, I'm not abandoning you guys," Pidge said earnestly. "You're like family."
"Don't you abandon us either," Nanny urged, eyeing them with panic. "We need you here! Those beasts on Doom—you know they have no honor. You know what they're capable of, what they've done to this planet, and what they did to our king and queen, may they rest in peace!"
"We don't have a choice," Keith replied with a heavy note in his voice. "What can we do? We don't even have all the lions. The blue lion's down, the black lion is locked out—the princess still has the key and she's on Doom—and she and Lotor have some kind of agreement that we can leave 'peacefully' as long as we leave the lions behind. If they're legally married, then this world probably is bound to their empire in some way by law, right? Even the Alliance wouldn't be able to contest it?" He looked to Coran, who nodded back solemnly.
"Not without risking an inter-empire incident, no. I'll find out the specifics from the Galaxy Alliance database right away. But you're probably right," he said regretfully. "If what you're saying is correct, it might be for the best if you relocated at least temporarily to a planet that's not in contest to avoid making the situation worse. I'm sure Prince Bandor would allow you to stay on Pollux until this is cleared up."
Nanny clutched at Coran's arm again, and tightly. "But what about Allura? When will I see my baby again?"
"She said Arus was her home," Keith said, his voice catching a bit in his throat. He found it increasingly hard to talk about now that the true reality of it had more time to sink in.
"She'll probably be back soon," Pidge offered. "I don't think she likes being on Doom."
"Who would?" Hunk said with a shake of his head.
Lance's scowl deepened. "Yeah, well, I don't like being where I'm not wanted or allowed, so I say we honor her highness,'" he said the title bitterly, "wishes and move on. Sven'll help us out."
"Lance…"
"I don't want to hear it, Pidge." The red lion pilot's voice was clear in its both anger and hurt.
"Okay."
Hunk looked between his friends upset and distraught as they were with a profound sense of loss, to the desperate countenances of Coran and Nanny. "I guess we don't have a choice. We ought to go. Can't risk making a bad situation for you two, and I don't think Allura'd let them attack you. Lotor probably wouldn't do that to her as long as we're not here."
"Oh, please stay in touch with us. I just know we're going to need your help," Nanny said, searching their somber faces.
"And if you need it, we'll help you if we can," Keith assured her with an increasingly heavier heart. "Come on guys. We might as well get in touch with Galaxy Garrison to get a ship now."
Lance shook his head. "Screw that, Keith. They want us out of here that fast? Then I guess we don't have time to wait, you know how Alliance red tape can be," he said sarcastically. "Can't risk missing Lotor's deadline, so let them pick them up later. Because I've had enough, of all of this, and I'm not staying where I'm not wanted any longer than I have to!" With that he turned and stormed off, and leapt into his lion chute before anyone could stop him.
Keith slammed his hand on the console. "That's just great," he said through a clenched jaw. "That'll really help Arus' cause, him running off in a lion we're supposed to turn over."
"Just let him go and blow off the steam," Hunk suggested, equally drained from the situation. "He'll turn the keys over on Pollux. The rest of us can go in an Alliance ship."
"Yeah, Lance isn't a thief, and the princess knows that," Pidge agreed. "He's just upset, and I can't blame him." He frowned. "I don't know what she was thinking either. Maybe Sven, Bandor, and Romelle can help us make sense of it."
"Let's hope so," Keith said, and then looked at Pidge. "But until it's resolved, we can't be sure." He continued to eye the green lion pilot, deep in thought.
"What?" Pidge said, suddenly aware that his team leader's gaze was so strongly upon him.
Keith met the younger pilot's eyes. "Pidge, I want you to stay here."
"What? Why?" Pidge exclaimed.
Briefly looking from Pidge to Nanny and Coran and then back to him, Keith explained, "You have amnesty here because you're a citizen, Allura stated as much in Zarkon and Lotor's presence and they didn't challenge it. You can keep an eye on things here and you'll know how to get in touch with us if things go badly. You're a trained Galaxy Alliance explorer, and you're a Voltron Force team member. You can help them if they need it." He left the thought that Pidge could get to and pilot the green lion in a pinch unspoken, but he hoped that the young man caught onto it.
Closing his eyes as he picked up on the gist of Keith's intent, he said softly, "You want me to spy." He did not like the notion, not because he was averse to making sure Coran and Nanny—and the princess if she returned—were safe, to helping his friends, or because he was afraid of Lotor and Zarkon—but because it forced him to stay at the source of all the conflict rather than go with those who were like brothers to him.
"Not spy, keep an eye on things," Keith clarified. "For everyone's own good."
"Yeah, I understand." His lack of enthusiasm was quite evident. "But I don't like it. Like you said, we're a team."
"Oh man," Hunk said with a frown. "Losing the princess, Lance losing it and taking off, and now we gotta leave you behind. This day just gets better and better."
Pidge forced a cynical smile. "At least at this point it can't get much worse, right?"
"Heh," Keith replied as he fought back an unpleasant wash of memories of happier times in the Castle of Lions, times that included Allura and all of them celebrating happily as a team. "Famous last words," was all he said quietly as he turned to depart.
Though with the heavy cloud cover and driving rain from the storm that raged outside the fortress one could hardly tell, morning came all too soon for Prince Lotor and Princess Allura on the dark planet of Doom. At the appropriate hour a sentry was sent to Lotor's quarters—presumably by his father, for no one else had the authority or audacity to disturb the prince on the morning of his honeymoon—to rouse them, and their rest came to an abrupt end.
"Lotor," Allura murmured sleepily as the reality of all that had happened the day—and night—before tumbled through her consciousness.
"Good morning, my love," Doom's prince greeted his new bride with a sour note in his voice. Father can't even stand for me to enjoy myself by sleeping in on the morning after my wedding, he thought grouchily, although he still managed to muster a smile for the sight of the beautiful Allura clad in nothing but his luxuriant sheets. "I'm afraid you won't get the proper luxury of a gourmet breakfast in bed the way the wife of the prince of Doom should today, Allura. Romantic that he is, Father made good on his word to call a state meeting first thing this morning."
Allura sat up, and upon remembering her immodest state, pulled the covers up around her. Although she and Lotor had been intimate the night before, she still felt it embarrassing and unbecoming to show herself in such a way when not engaged directly in such an act. Lotor on the other hand had no such shame, and boldly strode naked across the room to find clean clothing. "He mentioned that last night," she said softly, and did her best to avert her eyes from his bared muscular form as was proper. "What's going to happen at it?"
Lotor selected a formal dark blue velour tunic out of his wardrobe and put it on. "Father will announce our marriage to the nobility of importance—the high seats, the military leaders, and any on-planet visiting delegates. He'll also officiate our marriage under our laws and customs," he paused as he pulled his pants on, "which will include a marriage ceremony with one of our clerics. I don't know what your religion entails as far as marriages go, if your priests get involved as ours do, but you'll be expected to swear obedience and loyalty to our gods in the nobility presence even if you don't agree to worship them. Otherwise there'll be scandal, and the nobility will be resistant to accepting the union." He smiled thinly. "Athgar and the rest of the pantheon don't demand outsider faith, but they do demand respect. I dare say that's one of the reasons the old witch's magic fails so often. Her magic comes from outside their realm, and she makes sure they know it."
"Athgar, that's the name of your god?" Allura said softly, and climbed out of bed, quickly donning a nearby robe. It felt strange to converse with Lotor on such personal matters, the way one would speak to a friend or companion they wanted to get to know better, when such a short time ago and for so long before he had been a fierce and dangerous enemy to her world and all she stood for.
"One of our nine, yes," he said with a nod. "I follow Athgar, the god of war, battle, and glory." He smiled and put on his belt, patting the skull on it briefly. "This is his crest. You'll notice it in many other places in the castle along with the crests of our other gods; many members of the royal family have been Athgar followers. As conquerors it only makes sense to get his blessing above the others. We always honor all the gods, but in our youth choose one as our patron." The prince then glanced at a timepiece. "But we really don't have time to talk about this now. I'll have sentries take you somewhere to get you a gown to wear." His smile returned as he envisioned Allura in a beautiful formal gown, not the pink Arusian one, but from his world with her at his side as his bride, finally his for all to see and admire.
Allura nodded in assent, unsure of what else to say, and allowed the robot to escort her out of Lotor's quarters—her husband's quarters, her mind corrected—to another part of the dark and gloomy castle. As the metallic sentry silently guided her through the hallways, she edgily took in her surroundings, keeping a wary eye all around her as if expecting it at any moment to turn out to be some sort of trick and she would be attacked and thrown into a dungeon. Although she knew logically that would not happen, to her Castle Doom was still more an enemy fortress than a home, and she did not expect that feeling to change anytime soon. Moreover, she did not want it to. The day I could call a place like this home…
"Guard," a stern and familiar feminine voice called out from behind. "Where are you taking the princess?"
Allura whirled around and saw Merla standing there, a quizzical expression on the queen's ice-blue features. She was dressed in a manner that Allura had never seen before; gone was the "evil and chic" metallic warrior's armor she usually wore. Instead, Merla was clad in a rich purple gown of slightly iridescent material trimmed with vibrant blues, greens, and gold in an ornately embroidered and tasteful design. The platinum tiara with the crescent moon and her impeccably styled pink braid were the only familiar accents to her attire. While the robot replied with a repeat of Lotor's instructions, Merla frowned thoughtfully.
"Gowns, hmm? Well, while I'm sure there's probably something passable in the ladies' wardrobe, the prince's new wife deserves better than to wear the special occasion attire of royal arm candy." She strode over to Allura's side. "You're dismissed, guard. I'll escort the princess to where she needs to be myself."
"Yes, your highness," the robot replied obediently, and before Allura could say anything, Merla took her arm.
"Arm candy?" the princess repeated with a curious look at the queen.
"Lotor's harem girls. Since you don't have a wardrobe of your own here yet, their circuits processed the request to outfit you from a general pool," she explained. "The girls have clothing for all occasions; ironic considering what he likes them for most requires little of it. But occasionally men like to see their women well-dressed, and it's no secret that many of them have your look and build." She chortled. "But one can't expect robots to understand the finer points of etiquette and fashion sense, especially ones with masculine programming, now can we?"
"I suppose not," the bemused Allura said as she fell in step with Merla. "So where are you taking me? And why?" she added with a suspicious note.
"To keep my," she paused a moment, and then smirked, "daughter-in-law, is it? From showing up to her first state meeting wearing something that would brew an even bigger gossip storm than what's already been stirred by your little spur-of-the-moment marriage."
"Heh," Allura said softly, hardening her gaze in suspicion at the pink-haired queen. "You're a fine one to talk about spur-of-the-moment marriages, aren't you?"
Merla only smiled back at her. "Touché."
"Why did you marry Zarkon? I thought you'd changed—that you wanted to be a better person, and leave all of this behind." Her tone held a noticeable tone of disappointment, one that both amused and irritated Merla on some level.
"The same reason you married Lotor: it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"To marry someone you hate?"
At that Merla laughed. "Hate? Oh my dear, not loving someone is hardly the same as hating them." She mirrored Allura's intense look back at her as they ascended a staircase. "Or do you really think love and marriage are interchangeable, even after marrying Lotor?"
Allura frowned at the implication in Merla's statement, and the cloud of confusing emotions it stirred. "That's none of your business," she replied curtly.
"Very well, tell me whatever you like, but remember, you can't hide your feelings from a telepath." The two of them stopped in front of a large set of double doors decorated with a skull crest, one Allura supposed was another of the Doom gods' icons. "And I mean this sincerely," Merla went on to say, "I pity any woman that gives love to a man like Lotor. Women in positions like yours and mine do better to use our heads rather than hearts dealing with these kinds of men."
"I know what kind of man Lotor is, Merla. I'm not a fool."
"No," the queen replied, and met the princess' defensive look with a surprisingly understanding one of her own. "But you are trusting, Allura. This is a friendly warning from someone who once benefited from that trust and kindness not to misplace it. Trust in Lotor too far and you will be sorry."
"How you can talk about trust…" Allura's voice trailed off as she looked away. How someone like Merla, who had supposedly reformed and wanted to turn over a new leaf after she had been shown kindness only to turn around and marry Zarkon in a power play as soon as it suited her, could lecture about trust was beyond her.
Picking up on her thoughts, Merla snapped back in a momentary lapse of decorum, "And how you can doubt my motives but believe so wholeheartedly in a liar like Lotor is beyond me. I guess there's truth to the saying 'love is blind.'"
Allura's eyes narrowed at the bolt of emotion the queen's words stirred, but she managed to keep her composure and instead looked at the door. "Where are we?"
Merla opened the door and gestured for Allura to enter. As they went in Allura saw that it was a lavish bedchamber, although it was somewhat musty as though it was not a room frequently entered. "An unoccupied set of royal quarters; ones that haven't been in use for some time. They belonged to the last member of Doom's royal family with your stature; Queen Altora."
"Lotor's mother," Allura said softly under her breath, and looked around the dark suite for a moment before she returned her gaze to Merla awaiting elaboration.
The pink-haired queen strode across a large wine-colored circular rug that was embroidered in gold with the same skull crest that had been upon the door and beckoned for Allura to follow. "Like I said before, Lotor's harem girls might have dresses that would be appropriate, but I'm sure they're distinct and revealing, and we wouldn't want the prince's bride to be introduced in something one of those old nobility shrews might remember some concubine on his lap wearing at a recent function. I'd offer you one of my dresses, but you and I don't have the same build." Merla flashed a friendly smile that bared her fangs as she brought Allura to the walk-in closet. "After all, while we're both slender and have nice cleavage, I'm much taller. My formal dresses would drag all over the floor and look terrible on you without being hemmed, and we simply don't have time for alterations." She paused. "And while I suppose Haggar is about your height, I think you and I would both agree that those drab little robes hardly make for high fashion."
Allura entered the closet and scanned the racks while Merla pulled out a dress and held it up against the light. "Queen Altora, on the other hand, was reputed to have very nice taste. Elegant and beautiful, but classic and always stylish. Even after all these years, these hold up to recent Denubian trends."
"How many years?" Suddenly Allura felt quite awkward and ghoulish in Lotor's mother's closet, and wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but there—preferably on Arus where she belonged.
"A long time," Merla answered, her yellow eyes once again fixed on the princess. "Queen Altora's death was long before I assumed the Seventh Kingdom throne, back when Lotor was still a young child."
"And they still haven't cleaned out her room," Allura murmured, the quip being the first thing that came to her mind in an attempt to defray the uneasy feeling that being in the room gave her.
Merla let out a delighted laugh and pulled a different dress off the rack. "I always knew you were fun, Allura. One day I think you and I could get to be good friends." She walked over to the comparatively petite princess and held the gown, a satiny light blue floor-length garment that was somewhat form fitting but not overtly suggestive, up against Allura's figure. "This looks like it would be quite flattering on you, and highlight those blue eyes that are so lovely in humans like yourself."
Allura turned the dress over in her fingers. Merla was right; it was a nice enough gown, although not anything she would choose for herself. But since she doubted that she would find anything like her favored pink and white ruffled dresses in a closet in Castle Doom, she supposed it would do for the time being. "I'll take your word for it," she said with as much of a smile as she could muster.
"That's the spirit," Merla said while Allura stepped behind a screen to dress. The queen then selected some shoes and other accessories, and within a few minutes Allura emerged looking every part a regal member of Doom's royal family—and unbeknownst to her, eerily similar to Lotor's late mother. Had it not been for the tied-up hairstyle—one Allura had hastily done with a brush and a few pins to hide the fact that she had not had time to properly wash or brush out her long tresses—and the more muscular build that had come with her tenure as a Voltron pilot, one might easily have mistaken her for the former queen of Doom on a quick glance.
"You look quite stunning. I have a good eye for color, if I do say so myself," Merla said wryly as she looked her over. "We should go. The meeting will begin shortly."
Allura forced a smile again. "I guess it wouldn't do for royalty to be late here any more than it would back home." She felt a pang of sadness as she found herself longing for the comfort of a familiar nagging from Nanny about an Arusian social function at that point.
"Not necessarily. Royalty invented the term 'fashionably late.' Nothing would dare start without us anyway." As Merla pushed open the grand doors leading out the bedchamber, the duo found themselves face to face with the dark and withered features of witch Haggar. "Sorry Haggar," Merla cooed with sarcasm, "hope you didn't mind not being invited closet shopping with the ladies."
The old witch's eyes looked from Merla to Allura. "The meeting begins shortly. The prince was concerned. He was afraid Allura had gotten lost."
"As you can see, she's quite fine," Merla said abruptly. "So run along. My husband doesn't like his court members being late to state meetings."
Though Haggar bristled inwardly at the deliberate reference to Zarkon as such, she did not show how much it irritated her. "Very well. Show the princess to the main doors so Lotor can escort her in."
The tension between the queen and witch was almost palpable to Allura, and although she did not feel particularly comfortable with either Merla or Haggar, the unacknowledged animosity made it worse. "Thank you, Haggar," she said after a moment in an attempt to ease it.
The old witch only nodded, and turned back down the corridor. Merla started to walk along as well, and Allura fell in step beside her. "Don't mind her," Merla said with a clearly sarcastic edge to her deceptively sweet voice, "old Haggar just isn't very sociable sometimes. That's one of her quirks, but you'll get used to it."
In return Haggar had some very uncharitable thoughts toward Merla, but she left them unspoken, and Merla, who heard them telepathically, let them pass unacknowledged. Soon they reached the outer chamber where Lotor waited for Allura. He frowned when saw that Merla was with his bride, but he said nothing about it and simply took Allura's arm while Haggar and Merla went ahead into the meeting chamber, leaving them alone for a moment.
"You look lovely," Lotor told Allura with an appreciative smile. "I've never seen you wear anything but pink. Blue suits you; like your lion."
"It was your mother's," Allura replied, and smoothed her hand down the dress somewhat nervously.
Lotor seemed surprised by that answer, but not unpleasantly so. "I was always told my mother had good taste. I don't really remember much about her, but I know she was beautiful. Again, like you."
"Thank you." She glanced down, uncomfortable under the weight of Lotor's gaze again. Although she had become resigned to her situation, her feelings about it—and Lotor—were anything but resolved.
He glanced at the door and took her arm in his. "It's time to make our entrance. Let's make an impression on them that none of them will ever forget," he declared boldly, the pleasant fantasy of everyone admiring the two of them in awe and respect swelling his pride to new heights. Without waiting for a response from Allura, he then strode forward through the doors with her at his side.
The reaction was no less than Lotor expected. The grand hall, the room in which that particular meeting was being held, was filled on both sides with individuals of importance. Nine prominent seating areas lined one entire side of the room upon which either couples or single individuals in decorated garb sat, flanked by others in clusters. On the other side of the room were countless figures in military uniform and robes of office, dignitaries and officials. Allura felt the collective weight of the crowd's stare upon her and found it impossible to not be intimidated—although she managed to keep her calm and regal bearing somehow—as she walked in on Lotor's arm.
Amidst the gasps and whispers she scanned the room for faces she knew, not necessarily friendly ones—she knew there were none of those to be found where she was—but even seeing someone she knew like Merla, Haggar, or even Cossack would be a tiny relief. The evil you know is better than the one you don't, she mused as she spotted the first at Zarkon's side at the head of the room, the second standing close to the royal couple on the side of the room with dignitaries and advisors, and the third on the side of the room opposite Haggar's in one of the nine seats beside a Doomite she did not recognize. Allura recalled the conversation on the battleship where Lotor and Haggar had made remarks about Cossack's recent wedding and she supposed that was the woman they had been talking about.
As she and Lotor traversed the room, Allura heard hushed more remarks and exclamations from those she passed. "It's true, that is the Arusian one," an elder Doomite woman murmured to a man seated next to her.
"Incredible resemblance…" whispered another.
"I wonder what this means about the Arus war…" yet another voice in the crowd theorized.
"I heard the rumor, but talk about a dead ringer—" a boisterous male voice carried slightly over the din of those around him, cut off abruptly by a sharp elbow to the gut by a woman Allura presumed was the man's partner.
His expression stern, Lotor's grip on Allura's arm tightened. "Pay them no mind. They are your subjects, your inferiors… their opinions are meaningless."
Allura cast her gaze forward and did her best to ignore the gawking and staring from the crowd as they walked on. She could then feel Zarkon's calculating stare upon them both as they neared, and she felt more conspicuous and on display with each passing moment. Merla's lips parted in a cordial smile as they approached, one Allura would have guessed was meant to be friendly or reassuring, but she found no more comfort in that than she did the otherwise neutral, quietly observant look in Haggar's yellow eyes as they watched from the sidelines.
Another hushed exchange just on the edge of what Allura was able to hear, and out of Lotor's direct earshot, interrupted Allura's thoughts when they passed the cluster of nobility seats in which Cossack sat. "Marrying someone that looks so much like his mother, my, there's something psychological to be said about that." The Arusian princess turned her head to glance in their direction and she saw it was the woman seated beside Cossack that had said it.
As she glanced in their direction, Allura saw a robed middle-aged Doomite man with a greenish hue to his blue complexion standing slightly behind them shift his weight and curl his lips in a sneer. "Much like marrying the man in one's dead son's job, eh Kuryaki?"
Anything further the man might have said was then cut off with the click of a weapon, and Allura noticed one of Commander Cossack's fingers twitching upon the edge of something on his belt while he glowered in the man's direction. "If I were you, Tonchelon, I'd watch what I said," he interjected in an incongruously amicable tone, "You never know when something—or someone—might go off in one of these things." It was then that Cossack noticed how close Allura passed, and the commander flashed her and Lotor a grin that only made Allura feel all the more uncomfortable inside.
If Lotor took notice of any of the exchange while basking in the crowd's surprised reactions, he did not show it and a moment later the snide interchange was forgotten as Lotor and Allura reached the foot of Zarkon's seat of prominence. Straightening to his full height, the king of Doom raised his arm and held his scepter high, and Merla shifted to an equally regal pose at his side. "Honored court members, lords and ladies of planet Doom, and esteemed leaders of my mighty forces, arise as I, Zarkon, high king of planet Doom, seat of the Ninth Kingdom and lord of royal house Dar'skel'Ayr, call this state meeting to order." Zarkon's powerful voice boomed throughout the hall and in an instant all whispers died, and the only sound to be heard was the shuffling of the king's subjects rising as bidden.
"As I'm sure you've all heard, this emergency gathering was called to address the matter of the end of the Arus war, and my son's marriage to Princess Allura of that planet."
A murmur went through the crowd again upon hearing the king make the official announcement that rumor had told them he would, but it died out just as quickly once Zarkon spoke again. "To settle any questions up front, I'm going to state for the record that both I and Queen Merla wholly approve and endorse that union, which will bind Arus' royalty to ours and annex the planet into our empire once and for all, with no further resistance. As a nice bonus," he went on as his features lapsed into a victorious smile, "Voltron is no more, and what remains of him is in our custody and control."
"My custody," Allura corrected softly, but still firmly enough to interrupt, which Zarkon did not appreciate.
"Yes, our custody," Lotor echoed. He knew how his father would react to Allura rebuking him in such a way in front of the crowd, and it gave him a perverse rush of pleasure to witness it. Lotor also knew, however, that Allura treaded on dangerous ground by provoking Zarkon, so he stood protectively at her side just in case he reacted harshly.
Lotor was right in that Zarkon was indeed annoyed, both by the presumptuousness of the Arusian princess and his arrogant son, but he did not respond in a grand display, instead he retaliated in kind. "Custody of the royal family is our custody, my dear." His tone, coupled with the superior way he regarded the Arusian princess, addressed her in the way one would a child who had made some cute—but obviously childish and stupid—observation.
Allura felt a flush creep into her fair cheeks, both in indignation and embarrassment. Although she did not care what Zarkon or anyone in the room thought about her, she already felt awkward enough being gawked at by Doom's political hierarchy and Zarkon's public dig at her intelligence while he gloated about Voltron's destruction and claiming her world simply added insult to injury.
"Sire," a battle-scarred Doomite of mid to advancing age on the military side of the room spoke up while Allura's edgy frown wore deeper, "Can you please tell us just how this came about?"
"Yes," a court member wearing long blue robes agreed in a somewhat nasal tone, "last we heard, the prince was in Alliance custody as their political prisoner, yet here he is." He gestured to Lotor.
"The news reports have been interesting in their inconsistency at best," a sharp-faced elderly Doomite woman seated in one of the nobility high seating positions chimed in. "Would you be so kind as to sort fact from rumor for us, mighty King Zarkon?"
Zarkon smiled pleasantly as he addressed the court. "Absolutely, Lady Ristai. My son, whose questionable judgment landed him in that Alliance prison in the first place," he said, that time inspiring Lotor to frown at the public insult, "had an incredible change in luck. My faithful witch Haggar, with the help of Commander Cossack, was engaged in an operation to free him just as the newest member of our royal family—this lovely princess here—saw fit to do the same on her own. You see, under Alliance laws, a marriage granted her the right to override their sentence and pardon him." He grinned so widely that his fangs showed. "What young fools will do for love these days, eh?"
A polite rift of laugher then filtered through the room, although Lotor failed to see any humor in it and it only made Allura feel worse considering the derision inherent in it. Before Lotor could vocalize what was on his mind however, Zarkon continued, lapsing into a more serious tone once more. "The end result of that marriage is the end of our long standing war with Arus. Princess Allura has agreed to call any rebellion on the world to a halt and permit the Ninth Kingdom the rights of a planet within it."
"And the Galaxy Alliance, sire?" asked another of the advisory court, a green-haired Doomite that clearly had other alien blood in him. "Arus was an Alliance world. Have they severed their ties with the enemy?"
"We haven't negotiated that far yet," Allura interjected, suddenly panicked at the thought of how the Galaxy Alliance might respond to all that had transpired. When she had first put together her plan, she had not considered the full political ramifications of her decision, and her mind raced to find a peaceable solution. Although she was angry with the Alliance leaders, she did still value the friends and allies Arus had through being a part of the Galaxy Alliance.
Otherwise silent up to that point, Queen Merla sensed Allura's conflicted thoughts and, perhaps out of a touch of sympathy for her, spoke up. "The Alliance likes negotiations; we all know that. Look at Commander Hazar of the First Kingdom. Arus' status in the Alliance hasn't been set yet, but we'll iron out the details in due time."
"Rest assured that no matter what happens, the Alliance won't have any say on how things are run Arus," Zarkon asserted in a stern, unchallengable tone. "Besides, I doubt they're very fond of my dear daughter-in-law right now considering she busted their trophy political prisoner out of the slammer before they could execute him."
"I didn't break him out, I saved his life," Allura snapped angrily with a glare at Zarkon.
"Yeah," Cossack chimed in from his seat amidst the nobility high seats, "technically Haggar and I did the busting. She just got hitched to him."
"Regardless," Zarkon said, shooting a look at Cossack that told him firmly without stating such to zip it, "the fact remains that their marriage was officiated in Alliance territory and binding by their laws, and as of this moment I as king of planet Doom and all of the Ninth Kingdom declare it official by planet Doom and Drule Empire law as well." He turned toward the side of the room with the dignitaries and motioned to a Doomite man with puffy light blue hair combed slightly to one side in the front. "Veltaor, High Cleric of Athgar, step forward."
Veltaor, a mature Doomite man clad in a black satin robe, golden armored boots and gauntlets, and wearing a shining golden emblem of the same skull figure that was on Lotor's belt upon his chest took his place in front of the king and bowed. "At your service, great King Zarkon and beautiful Queen Merla," he said in a smooth, surprisingly pleasant and charming voice for a priest of what Allura recalled was Doom's war god.
Zarkon gestured to Lotor and Allura with his scepter. "If you would be so kind as to do the honors…"
"Of course, sire," Veltaor replied, and positioned himself in front of Lotor and Allura. Familiar enough with the ceremony from having witnessed countless marriages—including his recent failed one with Merla—Lotor took Allura's hands in his as was expected. Allura made no protest and followed along with a neutral expression on her face as the cleric began to speak, addressing first the court and then the couple directly.
The ceremony took the better part of a half hour, longer than many but short considering the status of who was being wed. Allura was mildly surprised to learn that Doom marriage ceremonies, while different in wording and custom, were not all that dissimilar to Arusian ceremonies. She did not understand a good portion of what was being said whenever the cleric lapsed into a foreign tongue—one she recognized from the sound as native Doomish but nothing beyond that—but her instincts gave her no cause for alarm or dread. Even the gravity of the situation, a marriage to Lotor, was something she had been through once already and had come to terms with. That ceremony simply made it official on one more world, in one more kingdom, and felt to her more redundant than anything else.
Lotor on the other hand was in his element, being witnessed by the important people of his world to finally laying claim to that which he had sought so aggressively and desired so deeply. Many, especially his father and Merla, had criticized and doubted him over the years, calling him a failure and implying he should grow up and quit dreaming, and that his pursuit of his treasure Allura was foolish. It gave him just as much satisfaction to publicly prove them wrong as it did to claim Allura as his bride with the blessing of his chosen god.
The part of the ceremony that dealt with exchange of adornments arrived, and the priest held out two appropriate items, no doubt selected by his father or Merla prior to the meeting. Following the instruction of the priest, Allura placed the adornment for Lotor, a simple-looking but expertly crafted golden ring bearing the crest of the royal house of Doom with tiny jewels interlaced in its design, on his finger first, as was custom in Doom ceremony for the one of lesser social status to adorn the one of higher standing first. Lotor then took his adornment for Allura, a bracelet—one that unlike the one he gave Merla, fitted tightly with a clasp and was reminiscent of a bejeweled shackle—and clicked it into place on her arm as the cleric said his invocation for Lotor to "adorn and claim" her as his bride.
Soon the ceremony drew to its close and the newly-again wed royal couple was bidden to kiss. Allura felt that strange sense of displacement as her and Lotor's lips met again, as if a part of her still did not believe it was all really happening and not some fantasy or story. The kiss then ended and Veltaor declared their marriage official in the eyes of Athgar and the rest of Doom's pantheon, and stepped down to allow Zarkon to reclaim the floor.
"Noble citizens, esteemed court, and brave warriors of Doom," Zarkon declared in a booming voice, scepter raised dramatically, "from this moment forth, I, King Zarkon, declare that the Princess Allura, first daughter of Alfor and Alyssa of the royal house of Arus, wife to Prince Lotor, first son of King Zarkon and Queen Altora of Dar'skel'Ayr, royal house of Doom, is to be recognized with the aforementioned title and accorded the privileges and respect due thereof." The room fell silent as he finished his announcement, and everyone present immediately bowed to the royal couple.
Zarkon smiled in smug victory once again. Though he did not like Allura, he was pleased to see Lotor acquire her and quite delighted to acquire Arus even if it meant he had to tolerate the insipid human girl in his court. He took a bold step forward and addressed the assemblage again. "In light of this auspicious turn of events, and to ensure a smooth transition for Arus into the mighty empire of Doom and the Ninth Kingdom, Princess Allura," he fixed his gaze upon her for a moment, "I'll honor your agreement with Lotor, and conditionally release all Arusian slaves."
Murmurs of surprise and indignation went through the crowd at that, though no one dared speak outwardly against Doom's king. Zarkon's expression hardened stubbornly as he faced the crowd again. "Naturally, replacements will be given to any who experience significant impact from that decree. In fact," he turned to a high admiral nearby, "I want you see to it that we acquire them as soon as possible." After the man nodded his assent, Zarkon looked to Allura and his son again. "I'll also allow you to dwell in the Castle of Lions and manage the merge of Arus into the Ninth Kingdom, and ensure that the new order is carried out in accordance with that rule."
A stronger wave of dissent rippled through the assemblage that time, and a military official wearing the uniform of high admiral spoke up. "King Zarkon, with all due respect… a teenage girl from an enemy world, barely not a child, from the very Alliance world that's been rebelling against us since before she could walk until now, she is going to enforce Drule Empire law?"
Lotor's face hardened into a glare at the high admiral. "Did you forget that Allura was a Voltron pilot?"
Zarkon also frowned, but held up a hand to indicate he would handle it and for Lotor to quiet down. "I didn't think I needed to state the obvious, but apparently I was wrong. Lotor will be there to see to it that order is restored, Glork. Now settle down and behave and don't question my judgment again."
Lotor turned to his father with a start. That was the first he had heard from Zarkon about remaining on Arus for any length of time, although it did not come as a surprise and he had planned to spend some time there anyhow ensuring the Arusians properly bowed to him, and for the satisfaction of gloating. Regardless of the spin his father put on it to the assemblage or the Drule Empire as a whole, it was a given that Allura would not be trusted as one of them until it was proven they could do so. Thinking on it, Lotor suspected that his father ordered Allura to oversee Arus to appease her, to throw her a bone that would make it seem as though he was willing to work with her so she would be easier for him to control. He also suspected it was also a convenient way for Zarkon to get her out of his way on Doom, and on both counts the prince's instincts were on target. Lotor may not have liked his father, but he knew him well.
"King Zarkon," a tall and hulking Doomite seated in one of the high seat chairs interjected respectfully, "what exactly are you doing with the Voltron lions if we may ask? We heard that one was destroyed when the prince was captured, but the others still exist. They were a threat once with only four of them. I'm sure we all recall how that first battle with them went? An entire invasion force and a robeast annihilated in short order?"
"In all fairness, Lord Galohar, that robeast was hardly our best," Queen Merla pointed out with a pleasant smile, and with the sole purpose of needling its creator.
She was not disappointed by Haggar's reaction. As if on cue, the old witch tapped her staff against the floor and narrowed her yellow eyes defensively. "Nor was the leadership."
The predictable outburst led Merla to chortle amusedly. "Still blaming Yurak for your failure after all these years? You need to let things go, Haggar. The truth is, regardless of who deserves the lion's share of the blame," she went on, her smirk broadening at the pun, "the fact still remains that robeast was not up to par with the ones we've used recently."
"Because I've had three more years of experimentation and experience creating them that you weren't around for a good part of, Queen Merla," Haggar retorted with evident exasperation. "The older models did fine against conventional ships. At the time, the lion ships were stronger than anything we came up against. It took trial and error to create something that could stand up to them." Her bony fingers clenched her staff. "Remember, it was one of my robeasts that ultimately destroyed Voltron."
"It destroyed the blue lion, actually, not Voltron. Voltron was never formed." Merla flashed a faux smile as she corrected Haggar in a nauseatingly insincere tone, while Allura experienced a fresh stab of heartache at the mention of the incident that had led to everything that was happening to her now.
"In destroying the blue lion, it did destroy Voltron," Haggar asserted to the queen. "And I can easily create another that could do the same to the green, red, yellow, or black. That robeast might be gone, but I still have the design."
"That won't be necessary, because Voltron's lions are under our control now," Lotor cut in boldly to end the bickering, and turned to Zarkon. "Father, Allura and I will see to it that Arus accepts our rule without question, and we'll restore order on that planet in the name of our empire and the Drules as a whole. Allura's people admire her; they'll accept her decisions."
"And if not, you will see to it that they do, by any means necessary," Zarkon stated with a firm edge to his voice. "Correct?"
Allura did not like the sound of that in the least, but before she could object, Lotor answered for them both. "Naturally, Father." He took Allura's hand again. "Under our rule, with you as its ruling queen and me as the planet's king at your side, we will see your world flourish again, for the good of your people and the good of any Drules who wish to travel or conduct their business there."
Merla nodded along with Lotor. "That's right, Allura. One benefit of this merger is that your world can be rebuilt once and for all. Now that we're all friends and there won't be any more invasions or bombings or robeasts, we can pool our resources. Your people can have homes outside of caves and live in cities again."
"That would be nice," the uncertain Allura said with a faint smile. Although it sounded good, she was not foolish enough to believe the transition would be so effortless. The Drule Empire as a whole held very different philosophies and lived a different lifestyle than most worlds in the Galaxy Alliance, Arus included. Slavery being not only condoned but encouraged was a big one, and Allura was not naïve enough to believe that all of her citizens would be willing to let bygones be bygones with those who were once their brutal enemy. Many lives had been lost, her own parents included, to those who would be making themselves at home on her world, and those kinds of transgressions were not easily forgotten or forgiven. Allura was not so sure her own father would be proud of what she had done, but it was too late now for second thoughts. She hoped that he and her mother, if they watched her from the astral, at least understood her reasons.
"Rebuilding Arus and establishing trade in that sector could prove quite lucrative for the empire," one of the advisory court, an individual named Norax whose responsibilities covered the contracting of energy sources and fuels for the royalty and military, stated. "But it will take work and time. There aren't even spaceports on that world anymore with how this war's dragged on."
"It won't be that hard to get those up and running," Cossack interjected from where he sat. "Bet we could get that going in a week or two tops."
"And where will we get that kind of manpower, Commander?" Norax scoffed with a clearly snide note in his voice.
Cossack folded his arms confidently. "Robear—the same guys that build King Zarkon's robot army. They can build anything in record time. I got some of them back at my place, and they can fix things faster than I can break 'em, out of stuff you'd think wasn't even usable."
"Efficient they may be, but do you have any idea how many Berbils it would take for an undertaking that size on planet Arus?" another member of the advisory court, that time someone from accounting, pointed out in a haughty tone. "We don't have that many Berbils on Doom or probably in the quadrant. And how would we get them there? Unless you'd like to donate the royal fleet's lazon supply for the next six months for such an undertaking?"
"There's a whole planet of 'em, for crying out loud," Cossack retorted in a mockery of the advisor's supercilious tone.
Ignoring the undercurrent among his inferiors, Zarkon considered what was being said and added his own thoughts. "The idea has merit—which surprises me since Cossack came up with it. But Robear Berbils are efficient little things, even if not very durable. Given how quickly they generate our robots when we need them, I don't doubt they could build us a workable spaceport system and rebuild cities in key points on the planet in a very short timeframe." He twirled his scepter and pointed it at Lotor and Allura. "I assume you two can keep track of that on Arus until we're established there."
"Of course, Father. That's simple."
"Well, I thought I'd check to be sure, since simple tasks have given you trouble in the past, my beloved son," the king replied on a sarcastic note. "But very well, we'll proceed with that plan. I want a sufficient force of Berbils on Arus to rebuild it as soon as possible."
"Great!" Cossack exclaimed, breaking into a smile. "'Cause I know just who can handle that for you." He nudged his wife's side. "Kuryaki deals on Robear all the time."
At that Commander Cossack's wife's eyes went wide in surprise, but not the sort that the well-meaning Cossack had intended. In fact, the bolt of emotion that the suggestion sent through her, while completely missed by the commander, was strong enough that a relative stranger with telepathic powers—Queen Merla—felt it as well.
How could he?
Merla heard the thought and experienced the unexpected outraged rush of emotion in a surprised start. Though Merla did not know Cossack's wife beyond acquaintance, she was curious about what she had just felt, and after properly shielding her own mental defenses—something she often found necessary as a telepath—she began to read the woman.
Arus is where they killed him… I hate Arus, I hate them… how could he expect me… Merla could hear fragments of the woman's thoughts, and then put two and two together. Of course; she's Yurak's mother, no wonder she'd have a grudge against Arus. Merla eyed her with detached interest as the conversation carried on, mildly entertained to learn that Cossack was as oafish when it came to interacting with those in his private life as he was with his colleagues in Castle Doom. "Cossack—"The commander, however, was utterly clueless to what Kuryaki felt or Merla noted telepathically, and grinned with pride, for he had not only gotten the king's approval, shown up a bunch of huffy pencil-pushers, but also gotten what he thought was a nice favor for his noble house and his wife. "Think nothing of it, baby. All in a day's work! You deal with Robear more than anyone else I know of."
Kuryaki clenched her fingers around the chair arm, doing her best to mask the emotional blow Cossack had inadvertently dealt her. "Yes, but—"
Still oblivious, Cossack then looked to King Zarkon, who nodded his approval. "All right then," the king said. "Planet Robear it is. I'll contract it out to your house. I want Berbils on Arus to start the reconstruction as soon as possible."
"As you wish, your highness." Kuryaki settled back in her seat, mood still quite vividly foul from Merla's still-observant viewpoint.
With that settled, Zarkon looked over the assemblage in the hall. "Does anyone else have any issues to raise, or shall I adjourn? After all, this is a happy occasion. It's not every day my only son gets married, and I do love a good celebration." When no protestations to the idea came, Zarkon raised his scepter. "Dismissed! Now Lotor, go and have a celebratory toast with your dear wife and our esteemed guests, and start making plans for your trip to Arus." As the crowd began to disburse he added to the newly re-wed royal couple, "I want you there before nightfall and those lion keys in our custody right away. Make sure those upstart pilots are gone."
Allura started to say something, but Zarkon cut her off before she could get a word out. "Not including the short one, don't you concern your pretty little head about it." He sneered at the Arusian princess, regarding her like a silly child yet again.
"I'll be more than happy to make sure they're gone," Lotor assured and added silently, and I'll be even happier to evict them personally if it comes to it.
"Good. I look forward to your report from Arus, then." Zarkon gestured to a servant to bring him a wine goblet. "Now about that toast…"
Nearby where he stood after the dismissal was given, Commander Cossack also picked up two wine goblets from a slave's tray and waited a moment to make sure Zarkon was not going to call him over. Once he saw the king in conversation with his son and Princess Allura, Cossack turned to hand a goblet to Kuryaki, only to notice that his wife, who he finally realized had been a bit quieter than usual, was already halfway across the room. "Hey," he called after her, and when she turned around, extended the drink. "Where are you going? Don't leave now; the wedding party is just starting. The boring meeting and ceremony part is done."
"I'm hardly in the mood for festivities," she informed him icily, and waved away the offered goblet.
Cossack blinked, taken aback by that reaction. "Huh? Why?"
She frowned at him. "I don't have time to sit and chit-chat with nobility. I have to get in touch with my contacts on Robear."
"Oh, that can wait," Cossack answered with a nonchalant shrug. "Berbils work fast; I'm sure they can fly fast too. You've got time for a glass of wine. It's the good stuff." He sniffed it. "King Zarkon paid Mom and Dad big bucks for this vintage. Hang out and celebrate a while. There's already too many dull people here without ones I like leaving."
Kuryaki's eyes narrowed. "Celebrate," she said venomously, "You expect me to celebrate the cheerful rebuilding of the world that cost me my only son? I think not." Her scowl deepened. "And I can't believe you did that to me, put me in that position in the middle of a state meeting."
It was then that Cossack realized that her ire was not merely just a bad mood but also that it was directed at him, and he frowned. "Hey, I thought you'd be happy. I was trying to do you a favor."
She looked away. "Yes. I know." Her tone made it clear that did not make nearly as much of a difference as Cossack thought it should. "That's the only reason I'm speaking to you at all right now."
Although Cossack was a fairly easygoing individual by Doom standards, one thing he did not appreciate was being read the riot act for a well-meant gesture. "Look, I thought—"
"No Cossack, you didn't think, and that's the problem," Kuryaki snapped angrily, cutting him off. She then went on in a low tone as they exited the hall into the corridor outside, "You know how I feel about my children. How you could ask me to do something to benefit that dirtball of a planet simply because the prince saw fit to wed himself to that Arusian whore that helped kill Yurak and not think I'd mind…"
Cossack's frown wore deeper. His own mood was souring quickly being on the receiving end of misplaced anger on a day he'd been dragged out of bed early to attend a royal state meeting and a wedding ceremony first thing in the morning to begin with. "Actually I'd figure that the big bucks you'd get profiting off of the misfortune of the world that offed your son would be a nice way to stick it to 'em, that and it'd be a nice coup for our house to score royal bonus points."
Kuryaki straightened staunchly. "I'm not going to talk about this anymore, Cossack. Enjoy your toast." She turned and stalked off down the hall while Cossack scowled at her retreating form.
"Yeah, fine. Guess I might as well since I'm obviously gonna wind up on the couch anyway," he retorted, and crassly chugged down the full contents of one goblet, then the other, and tossed both angrily on the floor as he stomped back into the royal hall, not even noticing that he nearly ran over Haggar on the way out. The old witch frowned as he stormed past, but said nothing and only shook her head as he made his way back through the crowd.
Kuryaki meanwhile proceeded the opposite way through the corridors of Castle Doom, and as she passed an archway that led to one of the fortress' windowed balconies, she paused by the window and stared off into the light grey morning sky, stewing in bitter memory. A minute or two passed before a feminine voice broke into her thoughts. It was not Haggar, however, but someone else that neither Kuryaki nor Cossack had noticed left the meeting after Zarkon dismissed it. "Lady Kuryaki."
The noblewoman turned around with a start and then gave an obligatory bow when she saw it was Queen Merla that addressed her. "Your Highness."
Merla eyed her with concern, although it was not quite as altruistic as it might have seemed at first glance. Though it was true Merla had no reason to delight in the woman's pain—for she was an acquaintance and subject to her and little more—what caused her to follow was a purely selfish motivation. In catching a flash of Cossack's wife's emotion, Merla had discovered a potential way to manipulate the personal life of someone in her court, and that could indeed be useful to her. Though she hardly considered Cossack any sort of threat, she knew his loyalties to Lotor were strong, and Lotor was not as easily dismissed. Besides, if Cossack's lips were as loose in private as they were in Castle Doom, odds were she had found a source of dirt on Lotor if she could befriend the woman and gain her trust. Though Allura was a more direct source, Allura also had far more reason to distrust her. Though Merla was confident she could earn that before long, why not explore all options in the meantime?
"Pardon my intrusion," the queen said gently, "but I couldn't help but notice, well... that you seem like you could use someone to talk to."
Kuryaki forced a cordial smile. "Very kind of you, your highness, but I wouldn't presume to intrude on your time. I hope that," she frowned, "disagreement I had with Cossack in the hall isn't why you're here."
Although Merla had not heard their argument, mention of it fueled her curiosity further. Even if all she learned was useless for her purposes, gossip was always delicious, especially when it involved someone she disliked, and the commander certainly ranked on that list. "No, I didn't see Cossack. Actually," she paused and joined the other woman's side in a friendly manner, "I felt your mood." Kuryaki eyed her somewhat warily at that, and Merla explained further. "An unpredictable aspect to my mind powers is that occasionally I pick up on strong emotional states of those around me without trying. It's rather like overhearing a shout when the feelings are strong enough."
The other woman sighed and turned away. "I see."
"Don't get me wrong, I completely understand why Cossack's suggestion affected you that way," she said, laying it on as thick as she could without sounding insincere, "but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how brutish he can be at times."
"No," Kuryaki conceded with a hollow laugh. "And he meant well in his way. A woman my age should know that a few weeks are hardly enough to bring about any sort of positive change in thirty-some odd years of bad manners." She looked out into the morning sky again. "But he should have known better. He knows how I feel about my children."
Merla nodded empathetically and smiled at her. "Naturally."
Kuryaki returned the queen's smile with a faint one of her own. "With all due respect, Queen Merla, I do appreciate your sympathy, but you don't have children. I think that would make it difficult to appreciate how it feels to lose one."
"Perhaps, but I do know how it feels to lose someone I love, and the raw emotions of grief and loss feel the same in all of us; it just manifests differently in how we choose to express it. That's one thing I can vouch for as a telepath." Merla's face was the perfect expression of concern as she proceeded to bring up the subject she was certain would procure the woman's receptiveness. "Did you know that I met your son once? A few years ago, on Myrlon. Zarkon sent him to me on a messengerial mission."
"Really?" As Merla had predicted, Kuryaki brightened instantly at the mention of Yurak. "No, I didn't know that."
The queen nodded an affirmative. "Pleasant fellow, although a little tightly wound. It was a pleasure to meet him. It's a shame what happened to him… Doom lost a fine warrior that day on Arus." It was true enough, Merla had met Yurak and had indeed enjoyed said encounter, and it was also true that she had found the news of his death at the hands of Voltron when it reached her corner of the empire disappointing. Though brief, their meeting had been Merla's first real interaction with any of Doom's hierarchy aside from Drule Empire council meetings, and it had given her the first insight into the dark world she had eventually come to and had now become an inextricable part of.
"Thank you," Kuryaki said sincerely, her mood lightened considerably by the queen's remarks—just as Merla had hoped it would. "That means a great deal to me to hear royalty speak so well of him after," she sighed, "you know."
"Think nothing of it," Merla replied warmly. "All of that was years ago, and the Arus war is over now. There's no point in tossing around blame when it's obvious that Voltron was the real problem. But fortunately he's gone, and that's definitely worth celebrating." Merla felt a fleeting stab of hypocrisy in saying that as a part of her recalled the Voltron force helping her not long ago, but she quickly banished it.
"No, I can't argue with that, your highness. It pleases me beyond measure to know that robotic abomination is no more."
"Please, call me Merla. A girl can't have too many friends, especially when she's new to the world as a permanent resident, now can she? And I think you and I could get along fabulously." She draped an arm around Kuryaki's shoulders and kept the mischievous thought behind her smile that it would infuriate that oaf Cossack to learn that his wife enjoyed her company, especially if such girl-chat became a habit.
Oblivious to the manipulative undertone in the queen's friendliness, Kuryaki smiled back at Merla and fell in step beside her as they made their way down the hall. "Thank you, Merla. I'm quite honored."
From the shadows nearby, another pair of eyes, one that Merla was too wrapped up in her own scheming to notice, watched them depart. Cossack is not going to be happy about this at all, the witch Haggar mused suspiciously in the darkness.
Continued...