Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

The Sindariin

Chapter Fifteen:

Fala tugged on her bindings and glared daggers at the closed door. He wouldn't just leave her here... would he? No. He was to much of a sex-obsessed neurotic to dose her with a strong aphrodisiac and just walk away! He would be back, he would untie her and... and have his fun. But then he'd be done and she could go back to her room. Right?

...

Sincline pored himself a large glass of yarbara, the blood-wind, drinking it down without a pause for breath. He pored himself a second glass and drank that one as well but as he moved to pore a third his hand stopped, glancing between the bottle and the glass. Sincline replaced the dirty glass in its cabinet and sat down with the bottle instead. The Emperor flopped down on his sitting room sofa next to his book, which he promptly ignored.

He just didn't understand Fala at all. Why couldn't she just accept his dominance and submit to him? Why did everything have to turn into a power-struggle between them? From a simple conversation to sex. It seemed like he was never allowed to be 'right' and she always had to have the last word. It was always 'stop', 'don't', 'no', 'please'. Never 'come on', 'yes', 'that', 'mm'. He wanted her enjoy time spent with him but she wasn't even trying! She refused to see beyond what he had been under his father's rule, she refused to see him as anything more than the invading tyrant that had threatened her people and planet for so long. He certainly didn't see her as the princess of a rebel nation, he looked past the roles that fate had dealt them to see the witty, strong and yet delicate woman she was. Couldn't she be bothered to do the same for him? After all, they were sort of married.

But there really wasn't much he could do about it. If Fala was determined to forever hate him then she would forever hate him no matter what he did, or said, or tried, or didn't, didn't say or try. If she was so resolved to loath him for the rest of their lives together then he might as well try and have what little fun he could have with her. The heterogeneous hybrid almost wanted to rush back into the bedroom and take advantage of the strong aphrodisiac he had dosed her with but he didn't. At the moment he wanted to punish her more than he wanted to sheath himself in her. And so instead he sat alone in his sitting room in self-loathing silence.

Sincline pulled his book to him and opened it to his powerder-blue bookmark. After reading the same line three times, however, he decided that any attempts to read were futile, he just couldn't concentrate. Turning his head, the Emperor cast a forlorn glance at the closed bedroom door and wondered how Fala was doing. If the aphrodisiac had begun to affect her yet, how aroused she was, if she wanted him... Oh, how he wished she wanted him! Her being madly aroused didn't amount to much if she still rejected him. He wanted her so much... his feelings so strong that some times his chest physically hurt when she rejected him. When she had confessed her aversion to being his ardan even knowing what such a bond was... For a moment Sincline had wondered if he were going into a cardiac arrest. Of course he hadn't been. That would be ridiculous! But there was nothing else he could think of to explain the pain he felt after her ardent and firm rejection.

'We are not ardan.'

Her words echoed through his mind and the distraught despot felt another metaphorical dagger stab at his core. Was he really so repulsive to her? Did the idea of her meaning so very much to him really repel her so? Would it truly be so terrible for her to open her mind to the idea of being his willingly? Of opening her heart and letting him in as he had already let her into his own heart? Apparently, it was to much to ask. Apparently, she did find him repulsive. Apparently, his feelings for her were repellant. Apparently, it would be terrible for her to open for him willingly.

Sincline turned back away from the bedroom door and took a long gulping swig from the yarbara bottle.

Fine. That was all just fine! He didn't need his women to like him. He didn't need his women to find him attractive. He didn't need his women be willing. All they needed to do was know and remember their place! If Fala didn't want to be his lover and mate, his companion, his partner, his ardan then fine. He would teach her her proper place then. If she wasn't going to sit by his side, then she would kneel at his feet! On her knees... in front of his lap... with her face on his cock like the bitch she was choosing to be. He had been willing to share everything with her, his power, his kingdom, his throne... Sincline would have laid the galaxy at her feet! But she rejected all he had to offer time and again and now she had rejected him. The young Emperor had never been one to take rejection well but thus far he thought that he'd displayed remarkable patience with his stubborn and obstinate wife. But now it was time to just give up.

The ideas of divorce or annulment had crossed his mind but those both felt to much like a defeat. He would not turn her louse, no. She didn't deserve the freedom to return to her beloved home-world. Besides, the moment she set foot back on Altea the rebellion in that sector would begin again and he could not risk a civil war, not when the other four Lions were still unaccounted for. He couldn't make her a proper slave, she was still his wife, his Empress and Empresses do not become slaves. Doing so to her would cast a poor reflection on him. Besides, while she may be a spiteful little bitch, he still wanted to spare her the horrors of slavery, to spite all her continued rejections and assurances of her hatred for him he still cared for her. It was rather tragic in his opinion.

'You're a weak pathetic fool!'

His father's words echoed once again through his mind, this time in his own voice. "You just might be right, old man. I'm trapped. Trapped in a cage of my own making."

...

Fala rubbed her thighs together in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the throbbing need that pulsed between them. All she managed to achieve, however, was to smear her upper legs with the nectar of her own arousal. A bright pink blush covered the whole of her body and she felt feverish and hot. She glared up at her bound hands and gave the rope another futile yank. She hadn't expected anything by this point, she just had nothing better to do.

With effort the Empress rolled from the position of laying on her back and onto her knees facing the headboard to which she had been tethered. In her new position she tried to venture down with her hands to the needy throbbing area of her wanton torture but alas, her husband had not left her with a long enough leash and her hands could go no lower than her naval. Fala whimpered in frustration and tugged futilely against her bindings once more. Her whole body quaked with unwelcome desire for relief that only an unwanted man could give.

She though of his granite-hard cock, long and tick and textured with those odd bumps and ridges. Her core heated even more at the though of it (if such a thing were even possible!) and tiny droplets of sticky nectar trickled down her thighs to stain the bedspread in delicate wet dots. Her body ached for him to return and enter her while her mind screamed that it wanted nothing of the sort. She didn't want him! She didn't need him! It was the last thing she could ever want! He was vile! He was detestable! He was horrible, dreadful, abominable, atrocious, offensive, obnoxious, odious, unsavory, repulsive and loathsome!

But to spite all of that the delicate cleft between her thighs drooled at the idea of having him fill her.

Fala gave a wretched moan of strangled frustration and tried to rub up against the headboard instead. This, of course, she could not do either and her needy frustration only heightened. As loath as she was to admit it, as much as she hated him and detested the idea of allowing him to lay with her... the Empress began to realize that the only thing that could alleviate her pulsing wanton need was Sincline.

"Sincline!" And she shouted his name in hatred and rage, but somehow came out sounding deep, throaty and needy.

...

The afore mentioned Emperor whom was currently sitting despondent in his sitting room jumped to his feet at the sound of his name. He rushed to the door separating him from his wife but paused when his fingers touched the cold metal of the nob. He was not going to rush in at the slightest beck and call to satisfy her. There was a lesson to be learned here and he wanted to make sure she learned it. What kind of a weak-willed fool would he be if he folded every time she batted those pretty little eyelashes of hers and whispered his name? No, he would not go rushing in at his wife's call; he would remain firm, hold to his word. He would not return to relive Fala of her sexual need. Let the bitch suffer for a while, the gods knew she deserved it!

...

Calmer than she had been after her training session with Kogane but still annoyed with the overly demanding Golion Chief, Princess Amue entered hangar where the Galran ship she'd captured was being studied. The Chief was still on watch and she gave him a stiff but respectful nod of acknowledgment as she passed by his chair. And then she paused in slight confusion to see that he looked a tad bit scraped up. Had something happened? No, she would have heard about it long before arriving at the hangar. A message would have been sent to her brother back at the castle. Then she saw Kurogane and noticed that he looked far worse than the Black Lion pilot and assumed the two men had had a little tussle. She would not have been surprised if Kogane had beaten-up one of his own me, as aggressive as he'd been since Altea was taken, since Fala was taken...

Amue pushed the thought of her cousin aside for the moment. She knew very well what Fala was having to endure at this very moment, the Heraclesian princess had had her own taste of Sincline's 'affection'. But dwelling on it was not the way to rescue her distressed damsel of a cousin, no. She could dwell in her sympathies for Fala all she wanted, but that wouldn't save her, action would! That was why she had come to check on the progress Shorty and his team of techs had made on the freighter. The sooner they figured out how to penetrate the barrier that surrounded planet Galra the sooner she could -they could rescue Fala.

She osmosed into the group of people that were leaning over a large paper-print schematic of the ship. She recognized it as the same one from the ship's databanks that she had briefly studied during the short skirmish when she had first stolen the ship. A number of the Galran labels had been crossed out with their translations written next to them in plain but messy script. They were still working on figuring out what everything was, they hadn't even started considering how it worked! This was taking forever! They'd never rescue Fala at this rate!

"Pathetic!" The Princess slammed her hand flat onto the table with a loud smack. She glared at the group of startled scientists, noticing that it was the Green Lion pilot, Shorty, that held the pencil. It was his messy hand-wrting on the schematic. "Give me that!"

She didn't bother to wait for the boyish hero to comply, instead plucking the writing implement from his small hand herself. She was no where near fluent in the Galran language, but she had spent enough time on their dreadful planet, immersed in their dreadful language to learn enough. She could both read and write enough Galran to at least finish translating the parts of a space ship. What she hadn't learned on Sincline's hand as his whore she had been tough after joining Ryou's rebel unit. Amue filled in the missing labels before throwing the pencil contemptuously onto the table where it bounced a couple of time before rolling onto the floor.

"Is this what you've all been doing this whole time!" She roared. "All this time, wasted! And why? Did none of you ever think to consult me? Have I not spent the most time on Galran than anyone in this room? Idiots! All of you, idiots!"

"We, uh, we didn't want to distract you from your Lion pilot training." Shorty admitted meekly.

The Heraclesian warrior-princes focused her furious gaze on the diminutive Green Lion pilot. "I've just done in two minuets what you couldn't do in three days. How is that a distraction?"

His cheeks colored in embarrassment and he instantly demurred.

Amue was going to say more. She was going to remind the naive little hero of Fala's suffering and that every minuet they delayed was one more minuet Fala was forced to cater to Sincline's depraved carnal demands. And she would have gone into detail about what those demands were likely to be as well. After all, she would know. But her tirade was cut off before the words could even begin to flow from her lips. The princess felt a strong male hand on her shoulder and that familiar stab of fear seized her.

"That's enoug-" Kogane's words were cut dramatically short when the Heraclesian princess suddenly grabbed the hand that touched her by the wrist and pulled his body into her just as her other arm impaled his ribs with her elbow. The surprised and suddenly winded Black Lion pilot was then flipped over the petite princess' head in a strait-line judo toss to land on his back on the table before her. "Ooff!"

Everyone stood in shocked silence.

"Kogane!" Amue gasped. "Don't... don't ever sneak up on me. And don't ever touch me without my permission! I don't... I don't like to be touched."

The Golion team Chief blinked at her in stunned surprise, then understanding sunk in and he climbed down from the table, a grave expression on his face. He knew what kind of man Sincline was and he knew that Amue had been his prisoner and slave for a time, but he had failed to realize the full implications of what that meant. The dastardly despot had left scars on the Heraclesian princess, not scars anyone could see but were there and were very real all the same. And if they didn't hurry the same thing would happen to Fala. The longer she was with Sincline the more damage he would do to her.

"Go back to the castle." He told her.

"I don't take orders from you!" The princess snarled back.

"Yes, you do." Kogane patiently shot back. "So long as you plan on piloting Blue Lion you will follow my orders to the letter. Go back to the castle, go to your room there, have a good cry or whatever you need. When you feel up to it I... I have questions for you."

The Black Lion pilot averted his eyes slightly as he said that last part. He wanted to ask her what Sincline had done to her, what he could be doing to Fala but he was also afraid to. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know...

...

Fala never did get the relief she so needed, but she had managed to exhaust herself to the point of collapse and was fast asleep when Sincline finally aloud himself to enter the bedroom once more. He padded across the bedroom floor with silent steps and stood at the bedside. Even in sleep she was lovely and the Emperor couldn't help but brush a strand of her sweat-matted hair behind her ear.

The air in the room was thick the scent of her arousal and he felt himself go ridged. She was asleep, still tied up and probably still wet, it would be easy for him to just slip inside her and take his pleasure. He wasn't obligated to offer her anything in return, she was not his ardan, by her own choice she had made herself just another plaything for his pleasure.

… But she wasn't just a plaything.

That was the problem. She could say whatever she wanted about him, what she thought of him, how he disgusted her, how she despised him. All sorts of nasty hurtful things. But none of that would change the fact that he felt strongly for her, feelings so strong and passionate that it could only be called arda. Hopeless as it seemed, she was still her ardan even if she would not be his.

She was different than all the other women he'd had. Even her cousin Amue, whom resembled her so greatly, was a pale substitute compared to Fala.

With a heavy sigh Sincline untied his unconscious bride and carried her back to her own bedroom and layer her down atop her own frilly pink bedspread. Standing over her naked from the Emperor studied his sleeping beauty. He couldn't identify what it was exactly that set her apart. At first the frivolous warlord-prince had though it was simply her stunning beauty that caused other women to appear lack-luster and unexciting in his eyes. But Amue was just as beautiful as she was and even that Heraclesian bitch couldn't satisfy him. She wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Fala and no one else.

Of course, that didn't stop him from sleeping with other women. No. He was a man and he still had needs. He wasn't about to become a celibate, saving himself for the one woman that it seemed destiny had chosen for him. Fuck that! He was a prince, now an Emperor; he was never short on bed partners.

But none of them were Fala.

As irritating as her constant opposition was, as often as she tried to fight him, as hurtful her words were… Sincline still would rather endure a frustrating naked banter with her than have a room full of slaves licking his cock. Maybe he had become a masochist, or maybe Fala had bewitched him in some way. He wasn't sure.

…

(A/N: Another short chapter is short. I just haven't felt like writing much lately. –sigh- I just wish I could have advanced the actual story more in this chapter. But whatever, character development is important too… right?)