The two of them had found a dell where they had shelter from the rising east wind. Lotor busied his mind with starting a fire. The princess sat across from him, scrutinising the Altean box they had found earlier today. She had been attempting to open the blasted thing for some time.

At least the prospect of making shelter for the night had distracted him. He tried to block out the feelings that still reeled in him but strove to no avail. It was going to be something he needed to deal with sooner or later…

Part of him was growing concerned with the endeavour. What endeavour? He lost his gaze in the popping fire. It was a solid question. The princess conjured feelings in him. There. He had said it.

But did he think anyone could… care… for him?

"Ha," his father barked the vile noise like something unnatural. "I care little of you and your feelings, Lotor." The name was spoken with thick malice. "You are only what I deem, and even that is minuscule."

Lotor raised his head, ice glazed over his golden irises. He showed no weakness. Such a failing would incur wrath that the half-galran prince had no intention of dealing with. The scars raking down his back still burned under his skin. The roaring crowd… the sweat and blood…

Lotor was thrown into an even deeper recollection. Indeed, they would dwell within his spirit for the rest of his life.

Exhaustion. An overcoming feeling that turned his arms to lead, making the most minute movement a colossal stretch. His small hands curled around his sword. Shining black talons pricked into the leather hilt. They would be his final defence should he fail. His fangs also could be used as a weapon… just as his instructor had shown him.

The half breed bared the white tips before his foe, a disabled Galra with a grave injury from an unsuccessful fight.

"The weak deserve only the chance they rolled at the beginning of the battle."

The words echoed in his head. They rang in his ears as real as his charging scream.

He had won that night, returning triumphantly from the bloodshed.

"Father." The faintest hint of excitement laced young Lotor's voice. "Did you watch tonight's gladiator pits?"

Zarkon remained silent, facing the whirring vidscreen in front of him.

Lotor tentatively continued, growing more cautious. "I fought tonight. I won."

Zarkon finally turned to face his spawn. His dark countenance was impassive. His words were thick with mockery. "Do you think I care?" The last word dripped with searing sarcasm. "Foolish boy." The emperor's large hand waved for the boy to come closer.

Lotor swallowed, feeling a stabbing pain deep down in his chest. His careful feet stepped slowly to his father's side.

With a wave of his hand, Zarkon revealed the stars through the viewscreen.

Lotor's yellow eyes flicked upwards to follow his father's stone gaze: towards magnificent space.

"Your feeble victory is nothing. This. This empire is something far greater than any worthless contest you will ever fight. And it belongs to me. You are nothing until you take it." A sick smile cracked across the Galra's visage. "You will never take it."

Lotor fought back tears at the icy scorn in his father's voice. "But… why?"

Zarkon's dark face looked down. Lotor felt a surge of panic, telling him to run. However, no physical strike came. "Because you will always be weak."

He still remembered being ordered to report to his father. He pondered the meaning of the memory. They had given him honour but nothing else, prodding him to see Zarkon. To this day, Lotor wondered if it had been a test, a trial. He had settled on it having been just that, but they had seemed so genuine… sending him to tell the Emperor…

A flicker of movement shook him from his recollection. His amber eyes snapped up as Allura made her way to the fire. She gracefully sat on the ground across from him. A subtle wariness was in her eyes, but she attempted to sound cheerful and sincere. "Are you okay?"

Alarms rang through his skull. Lotor retained his composure as his heart skipped a beat, completely disconnected from his head. After a moment of silence his mouth caught up with the rest of him. He didn't even think as he replied. "I am fine."

Allura kept her façade up. She had expected the reply from him, but there was something else in his eyes. A distraction was throwing him off edge. There was even the slightest tinge of interest in his deep tones. It gave her hope for him and that hope lifted her spirits. A real smile crossed over her face. "That is good."

An awkward silence followed. She broke it for his sake after several painful seconds. "I think I will attempt to contact the Castle and then settle down." She watched him carefully for his reaction.

Lotor was aware of her scrutiny and nodded impassively. His voice was level, unsure as he was with the princess' behaviour… with his own sentiments roaring in his spirit. "If they respond, I would appreciate an update." The corner of his lip twitched with a smile.

She nodded, giving him a warm look and standing. "I will," she promised.

Lotor watched her silently as she walked to the edge of the camp and retrieved her communications device from her small backpack. While the princess fiddled with the controls and whirring static joined the popping symphony of his fire, Lotor eased himself into something akin to meditation. He focused on gathering his thoughts and planning the next day instead of thinking about the small, determined woman sitting in the firelight next to him.