Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

The Sindariin

Chapter Four:

Blood mingled with the cold water from the shower, lightening it from its natural dark violet to a softer shade of lavender as it circled the drain. Sincline watched it, almost hypnotized, as he washed his father's blood from him. It was done. The old Emperor was dead, long live the Emperor. It hadn't happened how he had planned it, but then, nothing had been going exactly according to plan since he'd first learned that Fala had been captured. The Emperor Pro-Tem shook his head, wet locks of long silvery hair slapped his face as he did so. How could one human woman turn everything upside-down for him? Perhaps he really was just as weak as his father had thought. But if he were really so weak why was he the one that now ruled and his father now dead? Obviously he had strength of another kind, he just wasn't quite sure what to call this 'other strength'. And besides, his weakness for Fala wasn't entirely crippling. Sure, nothing had been going exactly according to plan since she became a factor in them, but the desired result was still achieved, just not in the way he might have wanted. He had the crown, he had killed his father, he had Fala and soon would have Altea.

Hm, Altea... He had considered offering a marriage treaty to Fala. It seemed the simplest way to both integrate the planet into the Empire and also make the beautiful blond princess his. But after additional thought the Emperor Pro-Tem had decided against this idea. If it was a treaty then he would have to make concessions and give up a small bit of the control he'd have over the planet and as much as he wanted both Altea and Fala he just wasn't willing to do that. He was an 'all or nothing' kind of guy, like his father before him and he did not much like the idea of sharing or giving up power. So then, he would keep Fala as his hostage until Raible surrendered. Once Altea was officially part of the Empire then he could finally take the princess to bed. Finally. There would be no political strings or subtleties if he waited, it would be no different than when he took his slaves to bed.

Finally clean now, Sincline shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He padded himself down with the towel before two slave-girls from his Collection entered with his clothing. Not the usual blue and black prince's garb, no, these were clothes fit for a king. A solid black pair of trousers and form fitting tunic with intricately patterned gold trim on the high collar, sleeves and hem. Around his waist was fastened, not his usual sword belt which was made for brutal practicality, but rather one meant for decoration and ceremony. It was hard leather plated in solid gold and studded with rubies, his lazon sword had been given a matching scabbard so that it did not look out of place. His boots, also black were trimmed with the same intricate gold patterning and studded with rubies in a row across the top. The Emperor Pro-Tem admired his reflection, it would look better with a cape and a crown but he would be getting those soon enough.

Sincline dismissed his slaves and stepped out, ready for his coronation.

...

The throne room was packed, Fala had never known the Galra Empire had so many nobles and dignitaries, it was quite literally a full court. She had always assumed the Empire was ruled by just Dabazaal and Sincline, she had never imagined they would have an actual aristo-class or hold court. They all stood strait and still, at almost military attention, lined up along the red carpet that lead from the massive double doors of the throne room all the way up to the golden seat itself. An alter of sorts had been arranged in the center of the room, half-way between the door and the thrown but the Altean princess could only guess at what it would be used for. She couldn't imagine Sincline having to take a vow and be ordained by a priest before he was crowned. The Galra just did not seem like god-fearing people to her, least of all their Prince Imperial.

'Speak of the devil and he shall appear.' The old saying went, or in Fala's case, think of him.

The double doors opened slowly and the Emperor Pro-Tem entered to the accompaniment of a trumpeting fanfare not unlike the ones given for the royal family on Altea. Fala did not much like the parallel her mind had drawn between her culture and his, but at the same time, she also took comfort in the familiarity of the practice (small and mundane as it was). The prince strode right up to the alter and locked eyes with another Galran whom Fala decided was a priest of sorts. Sincline said something in his native language, a long rhyming verse that sounded like some version of ritual language and the priest replied in kind before motioning for Sincline to kneel. The Emperor Pro-Tem sank gracefully to his knees keeping his chin held high. On Altea a soon-to-be-crowned King would bow to the clergy man whom was preforming his coronation, it was a simple courtesy! But Sincline did not.

The priest formed an elegant 'come here' motion with his hand and two guards marched swiftly up the aisle dragging a slave along with them. He was not a human slave, the first non-human slave Fala had seen the entire time she had been planet-side, actually. His skin was pink and bubbly looking, like a sponge and she wondered if he had originally hailed from a water-planet. He did look rather amphibious. However, more than she wondered what they planned to do with him. She could not imagine a coronation ceremony were only a single servant (or in this case slave) was necessary. Her confusion quickly passed into horrified understanding as the guards bent the slave over the alter and lifted his head up by his hair-like spines, effectively exposing his throat.

Another Galran dressed as a pries, though this one less grandly than the 'High Priest' that stood before Sincline came up and offered the prince a golden chalice on a red velvet cushion. The Emperor Po-Tem took the cup wordlessly and placed it on the alter under the man's neck. A second priest offered him a black bladed dagger on a gold velvet cushion. Dagger in one hand and chalice in the other, Sincline slit the slave's throat and caught the dripping blood in the golden cup. Fala was horrifyed. As the man's life-blood flowed out of him the High Priest began to chant. He was followed by the two other priests and then the guards that still held the slave's dyeing body, then the whole room seemed to be chanting the mantra. All except Sincline, he was silent as a statue, holding the cup to catch the blood. Twelve times the chant was repeated and when the chalice was full they stopped and a hush fell over the crowd.

When all was silent Sincline raised his bloody glass as if offering tribute, and that was when he began to speak. A short prayer or vow or whatever, Fala had no idea, and when he was done he lowered the cup to his lips and began to drink. He did not pause for breath until the chalice had been completely drained of blood and then he held it between his hands, one hand on bottom supporting, the other on top shielding and muttered what could only have been ritual language. "Narhand ni minyeh, narhand ni atai."

The priest then brought forth a gold crown on a black cushion. The High Priest reverently lifted it from it's soft velvet pillow and placed it upon Sinclines head. The Emperor Pro-Tem, ney, the Emperor then smirked triumphantly and stood. The second priest rushed forward and fastened a cape about his shoulders, a cape as red as human blood, and Sincline strode the rest of the way to his thrown and sat. The HIgh Priest then projected his voice over the crowd. Fala didn't need to know the language to understand what was said, "Long live the king." Everyone in the room was suddenly kneeling and bowing, gracefully descending to their knees and lowering their heads in reverence.

The Altean princess refused to bow.

All eyes were suddenly raised to her. Who was this foreign, alien woman to dare dishonor their king his own court? The guards that had brought in the slave-sacrifice paused in their task of hauling the body away to gape at her. One of them left the task of dragging the body to his partner and moved to ward Fala, no doubt with the intent of forcing her to submit to Sincline's rule. He did not get all the way to her, but was rather intercepted by one of Fala's own personal guard; the Captain of her guard, actually. The princess had no idea from where she had materialized or how she had managed to move so quickly. The Altean princess hadn't even known that her guard Captain had been in attendance. The two guards exchanged words that Fala could not understand. All the wile, the court's full attention was fixed on the three of them.

And then the Emperor laughed, breaking the tense atmosphere. Sincline motioned for his guard to stand down and that the woman he had appointed as Captain of Fala's personal guard bring her up to him. Apprehension battled with sheer disoriented confusion as she was lead up the tall stairs of the dais to the throne. The captain of her guard pressed down on Fala's shoulders in an attempt to get her to kneel before him but she still refused so the woman gently kicked her knees out from under her with just enough force to make sure the Altean princess prostrated herself before the Emperor but not nearly enough force to cause any lasting pain.

"Ah, Fala..." Sincline crooned when she was finally on her knees before him. "You are so proud. But you forget yourself, my dear." The Emperor reached out his black-gloved hand and took a lock of her golden hair between his fingers. "You are not a Queen yet, my dearest, and princesses must still bow before Kings. Although... if you are in such a rush for your promotion, I'd be more than willing to accommodate you." He lifted the lock of her hair he held to his lips and kissed it sweetly before offering her a wicked grin.

"I will never marry you!" She snarled with a the vehemence she could muster (which was a considerable amount).

To this, His Eminence merely shrugged and leaned back in his throne. "We shall see. For now, since you seem so adverse to the idea of prostrating yourself for me, you may sit at my feet as my special guest."

"I will not sit at your feet like a dog!"

And to this he gave another wicked grin. "You're always welcome to sit on my lap like a cat."

Fala flushed at the implications his retort carried and hurriedly sat down upon the top step and a little to the side. 'Its just until Kogane comes to rescue me.' She reminded herself passionately. 'I'm just playing along to give Kogane more time...'

...

Raible had finally finished his message to Amue and her rebel unit and had sent a capsule containing the autoreder on which he had recorded it out into space on (what he hoped) was a direct course to planet Galra and he prayed it would reach its intended recipient and not be picked up by a Galran scout or other. But he would not worry about that now. He had done all he could do on that score, now it was time for him to call the Empire's capitol directly and tell Daibazaal that he was surrendering. It was with a heavy heart the strategist sat down in the single chair in the center of the Command Center and dialed for Planet Galra. It took some time for the signal to cross the distance between planets and the Steward sat back and listened to the waiting signal that sounded almost like an old fashioned telephone.

Unlike short range transmissions which sent an out going signal and waited for a reply signal, communication that took turns going back and forth. The interplanetary comm. instead sent out a single short-lengh wave to be picked up by a receiver at its intended destination, the receiver would then transmit a similar short-length wave that would meld with and enhance the already existing wave. This way a solid connection was formed between the two points of communication and conversations could be held in as close to real-time as physically possible for people speaking from two separate planets. Some lag still occurred but usually only when the two planets were farther away from each other than a little over eighteen light-years or when there was interference from a nearby body such as a star or quasar. There were no such bodies between Altea and Galra, however, and the two planets were just within eighteen light-years from each other.

The old fashioned telephone sound that was the comm's waiting signal suddenly stopped and the main screen was fill with the ugly reptilian face of a Galran communications officer. He glared down at Raible and ask a question in his own guttural language. The strategist didn't speak the language but he guessed at what the question must have been. "Who are you?"

"I am Raible the Strategist, acting Steward for the royal house of Altea." He said in a clear commanding voice. "I demand to speak with your Emperor about the terms of our surrender."

There was a moment of silence between them and Raible wondered if the man had understood him at all. Its true that very few people within the Galran military spoke the human languages of the universe, about the same ratio of humans whom spoke the Galran language. But one would think that the the Empire would at least make sure its communications officers could speak at least some of the languages of the people they were attempting to subjugate. And then, in a thick accent the Galran said, "Wait."

HIs face vanished from the main view screen to be replaced with a waiting screen. A simple animation of the emblem of the Galra Empire, the horned skull, slowly rotating inside a ring also rotating but in the opposite direction. Not knowing what else there was that he could do, the strategist sat back in his chair to wait for Daibazaal to attend to him.

...

A slave filled Fala's wine glass; a pale blush wine, pink and transparent not the horrid dark red blood-wine that Sincline and the rest of the Galran court was drinking. The Altean princess was thankful for the consideration it showed to not force her to drink the vile fermented blood that they called 'wine'. But at the same time the special treatment was making her chafe. Since she had arrived on the planet it seemed Sincline had been showing her favor that one should not normally give to a prisoner of an enemy nation. She was more than well aware of his 'romantic' interest in her (and she used the word loosely) and she supposed that did explain why she hadn't been thrown in prison but it didn't explain why he hadn't forced himself on her. As much as she feared and dreaded the possibility that he would all this not knowing, being unsure and insecure was killing her.

She was seated on his left hand at the high table of the banquet hall, a place that (in normal courts) was reserved for the king's wife or favored concubine, it was not meant for political prisoners. Fala glanced sideways at him talking softly with one of his ministers. To spite his spoiled and selfish personality and the great cruelties and fell deeds he was capable of, the Altean princess had to admit that he was rather handsome. His combined alien and human features blended together rather well and gave him an almost unreal etherial sort of beauty, like an idealized creature from myth. She just wished she could figure him out.

Fala was actually considering the idea of talking with him, of asking him to explain his barbaric coronation ceremony when another Galran dressed in the uniform of the military's communications division approached the high table and whispered something in Sincline's elegantly pointed ear. The Emperor grinned an evil sort of grin, dripping with triumphant glee and wicked pleasure. He ended the conversation with his minister and stood to leave the banquet hall.

"Where are you going?" Fala blurted out, suddenly anxious over being left at the high table with no one she was familiar with or who knew her language, for all intents and purposes alone. She did not like Sincline by any stretch of the imagination, in fact, she was rather confident that she hated the man, but he was the devil she knew. Loath as she was to admit it, she felt more comfortable around him here on Galra than she felt without him here on Galra.

"There is some business that I must attend to." He informed her and then, to the princess' shock, kissed her hand. "By your leave."

He left.

...

The waiting screen blinked off, replaced by the face of the Emperor of the Galra Empire. Raible straitened in his chair only to freeze in shock at the man he saw. "Sincline!"

The heterogeneous hybrid peered down at the Altean strategist, the menacing golden crown that now sat upon his silver-haired head looking large and imposing atop his fair features. "You were expecting perhaps Andy Bogard?"

"No, I..." The strategist stuttered. "You're supposed to be dead! Daibazaal was going to execute you... you..."

This changed everything. They had formed their plan around the belief that Daibazaal was the one running the show, but if Sincline was instead the one in charge... They didn't have to worry about Fala as much as they had, and they had to worry about her more as well. With Sincline as Emperor her life was not in danger, the rest of her on the other hand... Raible did not want to think about what that monster could have already done to his little princess already in the short time she had been his captive.

"As you can see, I am very much alive. Now, I believe you were about to surrender."

Raible paused to consider the new situation. With Sincline in command of the Empire Fala's life was not in danger and it was her life that they had originally been concerned with. However, that was when they had thought that Daibazaal was Emperor, with Sincline they needn't fear for her life but rather her virtue. But that did not change the fact that the Lions still couldn't rescue her without a way to penetrate the energy field that surrounded the planet. They still needed time to devise a new way to penetrate the field and time to get a new pilot for Blue Lion. Now the question was: Would Fala's maiden-chastity suffer for their surrender? Or, had she already been robbed of her purity and was the question moot? The strategist glared back up at the blue skinned devil.

"I want to know Princess Fala is alright. Let me see her first!" He demanded.

"No." The new Emperor replied flatly. "I can assure you, she is in prime condition. The very picture of health."

"I want her to tell me that!" Raible insisted. Sincline's use of the phrase 'prime condition' made him inwardly cringe a bit and he had to wonder what she was in 'prime condition' for exactly.

The heterogeneous hybrid sighed dramatically and shrugged his shoulders. He called to someone off screen and gave a short order in his own alien language before returning his attention to the strategist. "Very well, Raible, you'll get your wish."

There was a prolonged pause filled only by an awkward silence while the two men waited for the princess to be brought to them. Rable took this time to study the new Galran Emperor, his already familiar enemy. He sat with the calm self-assuredness one would expect in a leader of nations, his expression giving away nothing of his true feelings, whatever those might be. Reclining slightly, one arm draped lazily over the arm of the chair in which he sat, the other with elbow propped up supporting his chin, it looked as if he were studying Raible as well. It occurred to the strategist then that the two of them, while very familiar with each other's tactics in battle, neither had ever had the opportunity to become aquatinted as men. Immediately following this realization, he suddenly took note of just how young Sincline really appeared. This train of thought, however, was cut suddenly short by the appearance of Princess Fala.

Sincline stood to offer her his seat as it was the only one in the direct line of site for the comm screen. "My dear."

She ignored his affectionately kind words and sat in the chair he had just vacated, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Raible!"

"Princess," began the strategist, his heart suddenly in his throat, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She answered.

Thinking her response nothing more than brave words he pressed, "He hasn't hurt you has he? He hasn't forced you to do anything... inappropriate? He hasn't..." Raible couldn't bring himself to say the word 'raped'. "... been fresh with you?"

Off-screen the strategist hear a snort of derisive laughter. No doubt Sincline found his word choice about his concerns amusing.

"I'm fine." Fala said again. "He really hasn't done anything to me." And she sounded genuinely surprised by that fact. Her own disbelief at being unharmed convinced Raible that it was the truth and he nodded in acknowledgement. Sincline might be an evil bastard, but he was an honest evil bastard (at least today), as he had said, he hadn't hurt Fala. She was the picture of health.

Sincline's face reappeared within the screen. "Are you satisfied?"

Raible nodded.

"With what?" Fala asked, but her question went ignored.

Sincline motioned to someone off screen and two female Galran guards came up to escort Fala away. The princess did not go quietly, continuing to demand what was going on and what they were discussing, what they were planning. Raible wished there were some way for him to comfort her, to let her know that he wasn't really going to surrender and that it was just a ruse to give the Lions the time they needed to rescue her. But he couldn't do that with Sincline standing right next to her. He just had to trust to hope that Fala wouldn't do anything stupid when she heard to news. The strategist remembered her threat to kill herself if he surrendered Altea and he could only hope that she had been bluffing or, heaven help him, hope to trust that Sincline would keep her safe from herself.

"Now then..." The Emperor reclaimed the seat in front of the view screen. "I trust we can finally get down to business."

...

Fala had sat brooding in her chambers ever since her guards had escorted her back to them. She was angry and anxious and wanted to do anything but sit and wait to find out what that thing with Raible was all about, if she ever found out that was. Sincline could just as easily never tell her. But then, she was no fool, she knew perfectly well that there were only so many reasons for the Steward of the Royal House of Altea to be calling the Galran Emperor.

"If he surrenders, I swear I'll do it!" She promised herself in a voice softer than a whisper.

If Raible surrendered Altea then she would have no purpose anymore. Her life's work had been keeping her planet and people safe from the Empire, if the strategist chose to give all that up to save her single life then she didn't want it. And besides that, with her planet under Galran control what life did she have to look forward to? Existence as Sincline's pleasure slave did not sound in the least bit appealing to her. And hadn't she also promised Sincline once that she would kill herself before she ever went to his bed? Well, she'd be keeping two promises with one action! Kogane had mentioned something about ritual suicide once before? Something that his people used to do back on his planet in ancient times? When a warrior suffered defeat he would kill himself rather than live with the shame of the defeat. They even had a word for it... 'seppuku'.

Thoughts of the Earth-born Lion pilot suddenly made her pause in her thoughts. He mind conjured up an image of his face, chiseled and handsome features with his exotic slanted eyes and thick main of ebony hair. In her mind's eye she saw him grinning at her, one of his 'things are bad but there's still hope' grins. What a fool she was. He had been a slave on this very planet after Eath had been conquered by Galra but he had not given up. No. Kogane and the others had persevered and managed to escape their vile captors, they had stolen a ship and made it all the way to Altea! They had done it, not by giving into despair, but by biding their time and waiting for the opportune moment for their escape. If Fala killed herself than all hope was lost, but if she bided her time and waited as Kogane and the rest of the Lion pilots did, she might still be able to find a means of escape.

"Even when you're not around, you're still my hero." She said aloud. "I'll be strong for you, Kogane."

...