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 Twenty-One:

As Sincline had said, it had taken some time for him to make arrangements for the banquet at which he would officially announce that his Empress was carrying. Traditionally, Imperial functions such as this were organized by His Eminence's favored concubine (or in this case the Empress). However, Fala neither had any desire to neither did she know all that was required for such an event. Thus the responsibility fell to the Emperor and by extension, his staff (more so the staff).

Three days in total it had taken the Emperor's staff to organize and arrange for the event. Invitations (more like polite summons) had been sent, confirmations of attendance had been received. The throne room and banquet hall had been appropriately decorated for the even with the Imperial red, black and gold color combination as well as crème-yellow, the color of female fertility. And all this had happened in no more than three days. All to soon as far as Fala was concerned.

But then again, everything seemed to be happening far to soon for her. Some times it felt more like she was watching her life projected on a view-screen and played in 'fast-forward'; one event whizzing by so fast she barely registered it before another one occurred and took precedence only to shoot past her before she could adjust and so on… Everything was so complicated. She almost missed her days of violence and fear when her husband was her enemy attacking her planet almost every Saturday morning like clockwork.

Back then her days were dominated by anxiety and fear, her hours filled with gratuitous robot violence, but at least that had been simple. Black and white it had been, good and evil, right and wrong. Now… now she felt like she just didn't know anything anymore. She almost felt like an ignorant child waking up to meet the real world and learning that it was not the beautiful shiny happy place where good always wins and evil never prospers and lines are clearly drawn and defined like the childen's stories had always taught her it was. No. This world was gray and murky with confusing rules and vague, ill-defined moral codes.

Lovers could sleep around with who ever they wanted and as many people as they wanted, but 'mating pairs' remained exclusive to each other for several years (according to Sincline whom was a questionable source). Fala would have thought that having a child together would have made her and Sincline a 'mating pair' but apparently that wasn't what defined them as such. According to him (again, a questionable source of information) a mating pair was two people whom agreed upon the terms of their mating ahead of time and came together for the specific purpose of procreation. Their temporary exclusivity was so that they could focus their combined energy on raising said offspring with little distraction or interference from other partners.

Ardan, what Fala equated to 'lovers' in her mind often ended up having children together however, the children where not the intended result of the coupling but rather a bi-product of it and so did not have any significant effect on the parents' relationship beyond the fact that they now had a kid (or another kid in some cases). This, the Empress had learned from Captain Nera whom she did trust as a decent source of information and whom also had three daughters or her own with her ardan. (The Captain had shared this information only as an example to help the Empress better understand, she was not in the practice of discussing her personal life at work.)

'And where does marriage fit in, in all of this?' The Empress had asked after this explanation.

Nera had persed her thin reptilian lips at that question and taken a pause before answering. When she finally did, she explained that mating pairs, ardan and just casual sex were all an individual's right and business. Coupling of those sorts involved nothing and no one else beside those with whom said coupling was taking place. Marriage, however, was a legal affair. It was a contract to be agreed upon by the parties involved (and often their families) and approved of by the state. Most often within the Galra Empire, marriage was only practiced by property owners looking to combine their estates and expand their fortunes; it was just a business deal with sex as an added bonus. Or, occasionally, a man might marry one of his ardan because he wanted the offspring of that particular woman to be legally recognized as his heirs over any other children he might have from other women.

All this the Captain explained, but Fala still thought it didn't make much sense. Sincline had already owned Altea by the time he forced their marriage, so the first reason couldn't possibly be why he had married her. And then he still maintained the he had thought himself sterile prior to her pregnancy as well, so the latter reason didn't make any sense either. The Empress did not share any of these thoughts with Nera, however. She liked the woman and thought of her as a friend of sorts, but… some times she just wished for a human friend to confide in.

Fala had spent a great deal of time in the company of her Guard Captain over the past three days. Both out of a need to better understand the culture she had unwillingly married into and also out of the simple desire for friendly female company. She had tried becoming friends with her maid, Marisol, but the woman seemed reluctant to relax enough to allow for any sort of true friendship to form between them. The Empress had observed similar such behavior in the other slaves within the castle and had slowly come to realize that while she was human as they were, they did not view her as one of their own. She was married to the Galran Emperor, she was one of 'them', she was an Imperial, a master.

At this desolate realization the Empress heaved a heavy sigh. She was like a slave in her own mind, Sincline's own personal companion. But she was not a slave as the rest of them were, she wore no collar, followed no orders save the Emperor's own, bowed for no one, offered submission to no one… She might think herself a slave, but she was not, just a prisoner.

…

Sincline paced the perimeter of his wife's sitting room in impatience. What was it about women that took them so damn long to get ready for anything? It was a common steriotype among most peoples of the galaxy whether they be from Galra, Altea, Earth or wherever; women just plain took forever preening themselves.

It wasn't even like Fala actually wanted to look her best this evening. Oh no, Sincline was perfectly aware that his wife loathed the fact that her attendance at the evening's banquet was required. Her delay of primping was far more likely just an excuse to avoid the inevitable by just a few more moments, much to the annoyance of her husband.

Just when his patience was at its limit and the Emperor was ready to barge into her bedroom and demand she come out, the door opened and the Empress' maid stepped aside for her Lady to pass and Sincline's breath caught in his chest.

Her slaves had dressed her in an exquisite gown of gold and black with ribbons of shining crimson trailing from the sleeves and waist. The back had been laced downwards with red-silk thread that came to an elegant bow at the small of her back but above the curve of her buttocks. The collar was low-cut, its drooping neckline displaying just enough cleavage to make him stiffen and drool but not nearly enough to be indecent. The sleeves were low at the shoulders and exposed the torn, gnarled flesh of her scar from his velhil, and Sincline found himself suppressing the urge to sink his fangs once again into that most erotic and delicious part of her.

There eyes met and Fala immediately averted hers, finding the unmasked hunger in his gaze uncomfortable. Color rose in her cheeks and down her chest to crown the tops of her breast. Her breasts seemed rounder; all of her was full, lush, and her skin seemed to glow from the inside. Sincline was suddenly struck by the fantastical idea that he was gazing at a creature of such power and beauty only talked of in songs and tales from the First Age.

"Is.. is something wrong?" She asked, voice soft and tentative as a cool winter's down on a planet with clear skies. "Do I have something on my face?"

"What?" He blinked as is waking up from some spell she had cast upon him.

"You were staring."

"Oh, I…" The Emperor cleared his throat and straitened his already perfect posture in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. He turned from her and retried a package that he had set on the couch before he had begun his pacing of the room. It was a black lacquered box with intricate patterning carved around the corners and around the sides and painted in gold. "I ordered this be made for you after our wedding."

Lifting the lid, he withdrew from the box platinum diadem. It was spiked as the Emperor's crown was but not as tall, where the Imperial crown had been fitted with a ruby in the center, this diadem sported a flawless blue sapphire. Smaller blue stones ran the circumference of its base in a pattern of alternating sapphire and blue-topaz and from its sides, just in front of where her ears would be dangled two short silver chains fitted with topaz, sapphire and diamond. Fala blinked at it, as the light played off its sparkly surface.

"Gold is the traditional color for royalty." Her husband was saying. "But I thought, seeing as how your hair is already gold, that a different metal might look better. Galra has not had an Empress since the reign of Finagaal ni Undomil and she wore my crown. There is no heirloom meant for an Empress that I can give you and so I had this made."

He placed the silver-colored crown on her golden head and stepped back to admire her.

It did not match a thing she was wearing and felt heavy and uncomfortable on her head. Fala quickly decided that she did not like it and she could not for the life of her understand why Sincline was continuing to gaze at her with warmth and admiration like some love-struck puppy. It was not in keeping with his usual character and made her uncomfortable and wary.

"We should go." He finally said at length, offering her his arm and leading her out into the corridor and to the lift. "I must confess," he began once the lift door was closed, "while I never thought I would have children I did imagine it every now and again."

"Oh?" Fala said fanning interest but ultimately not caring.

"Of all the scenarios I ran through in my mind, this was never how I imagined this moment." He sighed. "I imagined this happening much latter in our lives, I imagined it having been planned for, prepared for, I imagined my Empire stable and I imagined you happy."

"You imagined me?" She asked skeptically.

"Always."

"Even before you met me?" She glanced at him sideways.

"I did not imagine having children with you, Fala of Altea, before I met you." He turned to look her squarely in the eyes. "I decided that if I were to ever have a child I would want it to be a woman that could be a leader as strong and fierce as myself. I wanted a woman who was already a queen in character regardless of her actual title or status. I wanted a woman who could raise an Emperor. And then I met you. You gave a name and a face to my ideal, but it had always, ever, been you. You are my dream, Fala. You…"

The lift door opened and he cut himself short, as they no longer had the luxury of the lift's privacy to continue their conversation.

…

Fala had tried to look happy for the first few minuets of the affair, but decided that it was a lousing battle and gave up. Sincline would just have to be satisfied with her not looking miserable. She sat in her gold-painted chair beside the Golden Thrown and studied her surroundings for a lack of anything better to do. She seemed to spend a great deal of her time these days just studying her surroundings. Had it been a sport of sorts, she was confident she would earn a gold medal in observation.

Even for Sincline's coronation the throne room hadn't been this decked out. With banners and streamers of red, gold and black all bearing the Imperial insignia of the horned skull as well as ones in a creamy yellow that bore a stylized yet simplistic image of a chalice. These, Fala assumed, were something specific to the celebration but she did not want to ask Sincline for fear that she might misinterpret her question as actual interest rather than the idle curiosity that it was.

On the floor below the dais the men and women of the court disported themselves, dancing with such delicate grace one could scarcely know that they were the same barbarous people that had invaded and enslaves countless peoples and planets to satisfy all their excesses. Dressed in fine silks and furs, jewels and brocades; they twirled and spun, joined hands in two circles, one inside the other, broke the circle, changed partners and began the dance anew. It was almost hypnotic to watch and Fala felt her mind drifting to other things.

'This was never how I imagined this moment.' Sincline had told her.

Well, it wasn't how she had imagined it either. As he did, she had imagined herself older, and more prepared. But unlike her alien husband, she had not imagined this moment with him, ever, not even for a second. She had not imagined it on Galra, an evil planet populated by wicked people, no. She imagined herself happily married to an Altean nobleman of some sort or perhaps a foreign dignitary from another planet, a political union Raible might have arranged for her. But not Sincline, certainly not Sincline, never Sincline. Neither did she imagine a large fancy party such as this, all this fancy and frippery did not suit her. To spite her status as a princess, she had no love of fancy parties or courtly intricacies. To announce her pregnancy she had imagined a small intimate dinner with just close friends; herself, her husband, Raible, Hys, the Golion team… just small gathering, nothing like this.

The Empress heaved a heavy sigh and adjusted the heavy diadem upon her head. It was heavy, the weight of it beginning to bother her neck ever so slightly.

"Are you ill?" Sincline asked at her sigh. He leaned over in his throne to whisper to her, his lips almost brushing against the delicate curve of her ear.

"No." Was her curt reply. Only after the word was out of her mouth, however, did she think that if she had said 'yes' he might have let her go back up to her chambers and leave this elaborate soiree behind.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him, however and he leaned back. After two more dances the Emperor stood and clapped his hands for silence, saying that it was time to retire to the banquet hall for dinner. He offered Fala his arm and the Imperial couple descended from the dais leading the precession out of the throne room.

It was not until every last nobleman, officer and lady that made up the Imperial court was seated the Sincline stood again, holding his goblet of wine in his hand. The actual announcement that the Empress was now carrying was actually rather short, but was followed by a rather long monologue praising Vianya goddess of sex and fertility that (to Fala's ears) sounded like something her husband had memorized out of requirement rather than any actual reverence for the goddess. It was rather like a student reciting a lesson in class.

After this was a toast and then the food was finally brought out, the Empress suddenly finding herself ravenous.

Fala attacked the serving dishes the moment their golden lids were lifted, piling her plate high with beef, pork, lamb; anything she could easily recognize as 'not people' and knew wouldn't make her sick.

"Why, Fala, you're starting to eat like a Galran." Her husband commented hiding an amused smile behind his wine goblet.

She flushed at his remark and slowed her pace, calling up the polite Altean table manners Hys had drilled into her. She cut off small, dainty bites from the meat and ate them slowly with care, exaggerating the motions a bit in an attempt to distance herself from any semblance of 'manners' his vile people might follow. This only seemed to amuse him further and his smile deepened. Heaving an exaggerated sigh of mock exasperation he turned his attention to filling his own plate, selecting for himself a somewhat wider and more diverse assortment of meats than his adorable but skittish wife had.

Fala's eyes were drawn to his place as she watched him cut into an alien meat that was almost lavendar in color. Dark violet juice (that might possibly have been the creatures blood, Sincline seemed to prefer his meat rare) oozed out from the cuts and for reasons unknown it did not disgust her. Quite the opposite actually, whatever the hell it was he was eating, it smell fantastic and she found herself wanting to try it. She glanced at the serving dish off of which it had come and saw no small cuts of the meat, her gaze returned to her husband's plate and the second bite he was cutting for himself.

"Something the matter?" He asked before popping this second bite into his mouth.

She felt another blush color her cheeks as she tentatively asked, "What are you eating?"

He took a moment to finish chewing and swallow before answering, "Food." With a wolfish grin.

Fala huffed and turned back to her own plate, never one to enjoy his games.

"Would you like to try some?" Her husband asked, cutting a small pied off for her. He used his fork and knife to transfer the morsel onto her plate.

Fala stabbed the slice of meat with her own fork and brought it half way to her mouth before pausing. "This wasn't a person, was it? It doesn't look human, but was it sapient? Did it beg for its life? I don't want to eat people."

Here his look turned less playful and he donned a serious expression. "Knowing your delicate sensibilities, I would never intentionally try to feed you something you might have called a 'friend'."

That was good enough for her. The Empress popped the morsel in her mouth and nearly moaned with pleasure at the rich flavor that seemed to explode within her mouth.

"Good, isn't it?" Sincline smiled as he selected a cut of the same meat off the serving platter and deposited it on her plate. "Its actually my favorite."

…

"This thing's so heavy." Fala groaned the moment she and Sincline were once again alone in the lift on their way back up to the royal residential suits. She reached one hand up for pulled the uncomfortable platinum and silver diadem from her head while the other massaged her sour neck.

"The weight of a crown does take some getting used to." Her husband agreed as he removed his own golden crown. He pulled one glove off and ran his hand along her shoulder and neck following the path her own hand took. "You're really tight."

"God! Coming from you that sounds sexual." She groaned.

He smiled in amusement at that. There were days when he himself heard sexual innuendoes everywhere. The idea that Fala ni Altea in all her innocents and naïveté could also find a double-entendre in a harmless statement was greatly amusing. "Come to my rooms. I'll give you a massage."

"No!" She gasped with enough passion to bruise his feelings. "I… I'll take a hot shower and try and sleep with a strait back. That should take care of it."

The lift door opened but just as the Empress was about to step out she found that her feet were no long on the ground and the rest of her was held firmly in the arms of her husband.

"Ah, Fala…" He said. "When are you ever going to learn that I don't take 'no' for an answer."

"Put me down!" She shouted and she struggled in his arms. This only succeeded in making him tighten his hold on her, however, and so she stopped.

"But, because you're so averse to coming to my room, I'll take you to yours." Her said with a smile.

Opening the door took a bit of maneuvering with her in his arms but he eventually managed to get the door open and the both of then inside without dropping in precious pregnant bride. He deposited her on her sofa before walking around behind it and gathering up her hair.

"What are you doing?" Fala asked in utter confusion.

"Exactly what I said I would do." He answered, tying her hair in a knot to keep it out of his way. "I've going to give you a massage."

"Oh." She blinked in honest to goodness surprise. "I had thought you meant…" She trailed off. They both knew what she had thought he'd meant. It didn't need to be said aloud. Come to think of it, he hadn't made a move on her since learning she was pregnant and she suddenly found herself wondering if he was as averse to sleeping with a pregnant woman as he was to sleeping with a woman on her period. These thoughts were driven from her mind, however, when she felt his hands begin to gently knead, rub and caress the stiffness of her sore neck away.

He ran his hands down from her earlobes to her shoulders and back again, his hand pausing ever so slightly over the scar of his bite mark from so many weeks ago. Sincline did his best to ignore the pang of longing that curled around his core and focused on soothing his wife's discomfort. He kneaded the soft flesh of the juncture between her shoulders and neck, rubbing circles over the areas that felt the tightest and was pleased when Fala let out a contented moan.

"You're surprisingly good at this." She said, eyes closed.

"I have expert knowledge of the human skeletal and musculature systems." He answered with a shrug. "Though, this is the first time I've ever used that knowledge to comfort rather than harm."

To this she did not say anything and he assumed she imagined the worst of him, as she always seemed to do. Of course in this case the worst was correct. He had been taught this particular knowledge for the purposes of torture and interrogation, but he wasn't about to come out and tell her that. Finally, after he decided the silence between them had drawn on for long enough he added, "Of course, I did learn a trick or two from when I would demand massages from the women in my Collection."

No sooner had he said this, however, then he wanted to shoot himself in the foot. Fala greatly disapproved of his harem and reminding her of it and how often he continued to use it would not help his case with her one bit.

The silence between them returned and this time Sincline did not try to break it. If Fala wanted to talk with him then she would talk. There was no force in the 'verse that could shut her up when she had something to say and so he contented himself with administering his massage and rubbing his calloused hands over the porcelain perfection of her shoulder and neck. The silence between them broken only once when she asked him to focus on a specific spot on her neck. Finally the Emperor had to conclude that he had drawn out this moment between them long enough. Her neck was fine once again and she would become annoyed with him if he lingered any longer.

He let her hair down from the knot he had tied it in and collected his discarded crown and gloves from her coffee table. "Well, I guess I better be going…"

"Thank you." She stood to see him out.

He paused in the doorway. "I…"

"Yes?" She said, resting one hand on the doorframe, a subtle way of blocking his path back in (as if she could ever really stop him).

Another awkward silence fell over them and Sincline began to feel very foolish, like a schoolboy grappling with his first crush. He found himself fiddling with the gloves in his hands in what could only be described as 'nervousness' and stopped.

"Corsets." He said at last.

"What?" She blinked at him in utter confusion.

"I, uh, I don't want you wearing those corsets anymore." He elaborated. "At least, not until after the child is born. They're rather tight and run the risk of possibly damaging it."

"Oh." Fala answered not really sure what to say to that. Truth be told, she had never really cared for the things anyway. They were always so horribly tight and constricting and limited both her movement and her breathing. However, she also didn't much like Sincline telling her what she was and was not aloud to wear. He already controlled so much of her life now. And she certainly didn't care if it harmed the little monster inside her.

"And…" He continued, unsure. "And I don't think it's all that healthy for you either. Sometimes it looks like you're crushing your ribs and I'm sure your organs aren't happy about them either."

"And so what do you suggest I wear under my clothing, dear husband." Fala growled.

At this Sincline grinned mischievously, not longer feeling awkward of foolish at all. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Who ever said you had to wear any underwear at all?"

The tiniest of gasps escaped her then (of course this might have also had something to do with the fact that he also licker her ear) and she flushed a bright shade of red. "That's scandalous!"

Her husband merely shrugged. "I would greatly enjoy seeing your nipple through your top every day."

"You are a horrible, dirty, rotten, pervert!" She snarled.

"Mm, flattery will get you nowhere."

She slammed the door in his face. He skipped back to his own chambers in oddly high spirits considering the conversation they had had. She still thought him an abominable savage and he still maintained that she was a xenophobic prude, but the day (overall) had been a good day. All their insults had never made it past just surface irritation they had even joked with one another a bit (or at least, come as close to 'joking' as they ever would come with one another). All in all, it was a good day.

…