1Unwanted Sacrifice
A few weeks passed during which Zarcon left Aris completely at peace. They didn't know what this meant, this lull, but they surmised it couldn't be anything good.
The Opponents were increasingly aggressive, using a guerilla tactic that proved to be trying for all the V team.
During one of Pidge's shifts, the small Baron was happily clicking away on his laptop while Lotor was taking his morning shower. They were as far as possible in the suite without bumping into a wall.
The Opponents attack was as brutal as it was swift. Upon hearing a scream, Pidge's quick mind immediately understood what was happening and was at the bathroom's door in seconds. As he got closer, the spirits evaporated, and a moment later Lotor stumbled out, his caftan askew, his eyes wild and his hair soggily draping his shoulders.
It had been mere seconds, but Lotor didn't want to relive that kind of attack anytime soon. He hated being assaulted in such a way he couldn't fight back.
They soon discovered, following this incident, that the pilots had to stay within close proximity, otherwise, the spirits took advantage.
This new constant was hard on both the pilots and the ex-prince. Lotor became more irritable and nervous. He lost his newly acquired khiaran grace to revert to the furious madman he'd become prior to his exile.
***** ***** *****
Lance was on guard duty that night. Lotor was pacing his room, visibly preoccupied. The repetitive turns and furious pace was dizzying.
"Will you stop that?" Lance huffed, exasperated. "You're driving me nuts."
"Is that so," began Lotor frostily, "What about your insipid staring? Shall we run a wager on who will drive the other insane first?"
"You'd win for sure! What the hell is eating you?"
"Should I rattle it on by your alphabetical order? Take your pick! I can't take two steps without you around so close it's a wonder nobody yet made inane comments on our preferences. Moreover, people are starting to stare at me with looks of pity. PITY!"
Lotor was once again trembling in impotent, barely restrained ire. Lance was not far from downright anger. This keeping close to the drule didn't appeal any more to him.
"Its not as if we have a choice," said Lance. "Would you rather have these spirits even closer, meaning right inside you?"
Lotor sat down abruptly on his bed.
"Of course not. Don't mistake me, pilot. I'm aware how this must be despicable to you. But being this closed in is unbearable."
"That may be the one thing we have in common, Doom and gloom. How about we go in the forest? That might calm us a bit, enough so we'll wont come to a fist fight..."
"Excellent idea. Let's get out of here. The stale air is getting to me."
Lance had not made this proposition without giving a thought to the spirit's love of darkness, but the moon was full and the lone wolf knew how the forest was lit in its magical silvery glow. He thought that it was so beautiful, so sacred somehow, that it should be safe haven.
Lance wandered in his territory. The fiery pilot had a heart so big, that even if it was filled with bitterness, it was still generous, and he brought the agitated drule to his favourite calming spot, his lake.
Without a word, he settled on a small sandy beach, barely large enough to merit the name.
Lotor resumed his pacing, but at a more sedate rhythm.
"All right," said Lance at last. "What crawled up your ***? And don't sell me that crap about listing your peeves. There's something specific, else you'd have been this strung up all the time."
"Why should I tell you"?
"I'm here and listening... it's not as if you have many friends to confide to..."
Lotor snarled at the sarcasm, but nevertheless admitted through gritted teeth :
"I'm angry at myself. There, are you happy?"
"Ecstatic. Not. It doesn't tell me anything. What about?"
Lotor folded down on the shore like a falling card castle.
"For not having enough courage to accomplish what I must," he whispered sadly.
The change in attitude was so sudden and complete, that Lance sensed he should keep silent and allow the drule to gather himself. It took a while, Lotor staring out at the moonlight scales' slow dance on the lake's surface. He let out a shaky sigh.
"I would have needed to talk to one of you eventually. I cravenly put it off. You know..."
He paused, swallowing painfully and taking a deep breath.
"...That I love her beyond reason."
There was no need to say who. He fell silent, lowering his head.
"...And?" Prodded Lance softly.
"...And that I can't... I can't..."
He turned toward Lance, teeth bared.
"I can't! If I were to take off this robe, human, even you, who has seen destruction from the inside, would oscillate between disgust and horror. I still do, myself, and its been years. I'm ruined, powerless... I've become so pathetic as to never be able to grant her happiness."
"Besides," he continued, passing his artificial hand in the sand, "She does not love me."
He closed it in a tight fist.
"She loves HIM!" He growled furiously.
Lance was shocked to see a moonlit tear tracking Lotor's face.
"She being so careful around me," he continued in disgust. "She tried to spare my poor little mechanically regulated heart. Me, her enemy, her tormentor, and she is still so kind... She is so pure, untainted. Here I was, conquering worlds, never caring for all was terror and exploitation. Take or be taken. And then, I see her and I see perfection, unmarred by the war that took all from her. Is it any wonder I adore her like a goddess? She wishes to spare me harm, but its obvious who she loves anyway, is it not, red boy?"
Lance shrugged. "We all know, except for Keith himself."
"That human is so oblivious it's a wonder I never could beat him," Lotor said through his teeth. "It must be his incomprehensible devotion to duty, something so alien to me I kept underestimating him. Still do. I guess I detest him so because in his own revolting way, he is just as pure as she is."
Lotor resumed his careful study of the sand, carefully fingering swirls in it.
"It's torture, pilot, seeing him hover, throwing adoring, sad looks when he think nobody's looking. Seeing him silent, never making a move. She is so close, just to look at her is like having walked for days in a desert, and finally being close to a river, yet not be allowed to drink a single drop! And HIM, he's standing RIGHT besides her, she loves him, and he does NOTHING! I want to strangle him!" He growled, fangs bared.
"Well, truth be told," Lance conceded, "sometimes, so do I."
Lotor looked at him, flabbergasted.
"Oh, don't give me those goggle eyes, Campanule. I too had a thing for Allura at a point. I could see it would lead me nowhere, what with Keith being a perfect guy for her, so I never said anything. Besides, I don't think that traipsing the galaxy and haunting places like V'thaï would have appealed to her that much."
"So you understand. I would let that idiot continue to be so ridiculously self effacing, and laugh at him, but the Nikolaï incident got me thinking. You probably know how royals are stuck and bound to their heritage."
"The very thing that keeps Keith silent. He's noble by heart, not by pedigree. It makes all the difference here in Aris. They would never approve of him and he knows it."
"What does it matter? She loves him. Is Allura ruler or not?"
"Its not Doom here, campanule. She can't go against the laws of her own monarchy. If she could, you and I wouldn't have fought this stupid duel. Good thing you were pretty bad back then."
Lotor didn't take offence: it was the absolute truth.
"Can't the idiot see this has the potential to completely ruin her life? Nikolaï turned out to be a worse villain then I, but what if he hadn't been? Allura would have been hard put to find a reason to reject him and still maintain political credibility. What if another would-be suitor used your obsolete laws to bind the princess? Its just a matter of who will think of it first, pilot."
Lotor returned to his silent brooding, again seeming to gather his strength. At last, he sighed like a man resigned to his fate.
"Tell him, pilot."
"What exactly?" Asked Lance, not unkindly.
"That I give up this silly, unsaid race. That I give her the only thing she asked of me, all the while granting me a safe haven she can't believe I truly deserve. I give her the right to choose her companion for herself. Tell him he is an imbecile for not clearly staking his claim. I can't speak civilly to that self righteous, blind..." Lotor was nearly strangling in rage. "I'd make my point with a nice slash," Lotor snarled, flexing his clawed fingers menacingly. He finally let fall :
"Tell him..."
With that, Lotor folded on himself, resolutely turned to the lake so the pilot couldn't see how it cost him to finally say this. His throat was in fire, and if he said another word he would collapse in tears, he knew. He closed his eyes so hard it hurt. He heard the pilot sigh.
"I'll talk to him. I can't say it'll work, He is pretty strung up on heritage and bloodlines. But I'll try. I hate to admit it, but seeing you turn your back to the river to face the desert again... has to be one of the bravest things I've ever seen."
Lotor lowered his head. Lance rose, thinking they should begin their way back, but he allowed the drule a moment to recompose himself. On the surface, scales of moonlight reflected. How strange that some of those reflexions were green... wait a minute. Green?
He shot toward the prince as a jet of sick green light shot from the lake toward him. Lance was by his side instantly, but the light didn't retreat as usual. Instead, it was joined by others, and the multicolored Opponents formed an incandescent ball around them both, trying to approach. The drule simply fell on his shoulder, where Lance unconsciously cradled him, his sworn enemy. He could hear their whispers, exuding such evil he was seized with horror.
*Let go of him, Angry One, you know how you hate him... give him to us and your reward shall be infinite*
Lance cried vulgarities to the things.
*You shall regret, Angry One, you shall be ours as well*
It seemed hours to Lance, the spirits calling to his anger, making it an unsupportable burden. His only desire was to lash out, and the minuscule part of him that stayed sane was locked in combat to keep a fragile hold on his self. Just as he thought they would overpower him, that he would go insane, they vanished so suddenly it left him nauseous. He saw the thin strip of the morning light winding through the branches. The lake was now tinted pink by the dawn of a new day.
He was shaking hard enough to generate a small earthquake, he was covered in sweat and, to his horror, he saw he had an armful of drule, holding him so tight as to smother him. He thought perhaps he had, he was so immobile. He let go of his grip and turned the limp head to see the golden eyes opened to unresponsive slits.
Getting shakily to his feet, he pulled the drule along and began the painful trek to the castle.. Lotor leaned heavily on him all the way, in a confused, silent daze.
Lance was beyond exhausted when he finally guided the drule to fall on the bed. He arranged Lotor's limbs, as he couldn't seem to be bothered to move much. He went so far as to remove his boots, covered him in a blanket and finally flopped gratefully on the drule's cushioned chair. He was chilled to the bone and frightened out of his wits. He wanted nothing more then human company right now. He reached to the communicator, thinking on who he should call. Someone calm, level headed. Hunk.
***** ***** *****
At this rosy hour, Hunk was blissfully sleeping, a contented smile on his face. When his communicator started to make a ungraceful noise, he told himself anybody who called at such an ungodly hour should and would be ignored. He let it bleep all its decibels, the caller would surely give up before he would be bothered to rise... But no, he was not to be granted peace. Sighing, he answered.
"Hunk?" Came a voice Hunk barely recognized as Lance's. He sounded... frightened? Now that was a novelty. Instantly wide awake, Hunk asked:
"Where are you?"
"Guard duty. The suite."
"I'm on my way."