Fics By Elle

When Lotor came upon Allura in the clearing, he was relieved and angry to see her there calmly watching the clouds rolling by. He had wanted to reprimand her for her behavior but he stayed his tongue when he realized that was what she expected. She was acting out against her gilded cage in the only way that she could. Lotor knew what she was going through, since he too had rebelled against what was expected of him. Of course, his rebellion included explosives, poisons, and assassination attempts.

Allura was exerting what little control she had over the situation by breaking her planned evenings with him. She knew he wouldn’t break off the engagement for something so trivial. Everything else in her life was already ordained and she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

It was nice to sit so close to her and to just be with her. The silence wasn’t awkward at he thought that it might. It was relaxing. He wasn’t even heckled when she admitted that she was avoiding him. He knew that getting angry with her wouldn’t help his cause any. So, instead of seeking what he thought that he needed, he tried to give her what she needed.

Lotor never imagined that he would get Allura in his arms by catering to her bruised sensibilities but when the moon rose, he had the angelic blond tucked tightly in his arms. The scent of her hair was almost irresistible and he felt his body reacting until he noticed her breathing had changed.

Allura had fallen asleep.

Lotor smiled to himself. He took solace in the small victory and looked down at his betrothed. Even in her casual clothes she exuded an air of sophistication. Even when he could hear her subtle little snore as she slumbered, he found her incredibly sexy. He knew nothing good would come of this.

“Allura,” he whispered, listening to her breathing changing again. She had awoken. “We should head back to the castle.” She stirred, pushing herself up but brushing against him in the process, reminding him hoe badly he wanted her.

She rubbed her eyes and then pushed herself up to stand. He stood too and took her hand to lead her out of the glade. She didn’t object to being lead even though the moonlight was bright enough that she should have been able to see clearly enough. He could see that her eyes were heavy still, her fatigue evident.

Lotor helped her maneuver over through the narrow rock face he had tracked her through until they were able to see the castle of Lions in the distance.

“Lotor,” she said, causing him to pause and turn back to her. “Why are you doing this?” He knew by her expression that she meant more than spending a quiet evening in the forest with her.

“I thought that it was fairly obvious,” he replied, watching as she pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You are getting what you want,” she stated, a saddened look on her face. He didn’t feel the need to confirm her statement, it was true. He was going to get exactly what he wanted. “You are getting everything that you want, at my expense.”

“What do you want then?” Lotor asked, knowing what her answer would be. Her fighting spirit seemed to have returned and he expected to see her hand lash out at his face if he gave a less than satisfactory answer to any of her statements.

“I want my freedom, Lotor,” she replied, looking him defiantly, her eyes telling of anger and discontent. He had seen that look in the mirror himself.

“If you had your freedom, what would you do with it?” he challenged.

“I would be able to rule Altair in peace,” she replied, sticking her chin forward stubbornly.

“Is that truly what you want to do?” Her brows shot up at his question. He knew that no one had asked her that before.

“Of course!” she snapped, as she started to march toward the bright lights of the castle. He started after her, not wanting to go back to his own ship until he saw her march into the castle itself.

“So if given the choice to do anything in the universe, you would choose to rule Altair?” He didn’t need to hasten his pace to keep up with her. He stood a head and shoulders taller than she was, even though she was tall for her race. With her arms crossed over her chest, she wasn’t able to do more than a brisk walk or risk falling on the uneven terrain.

“Yes,” Allura replied, her tone not so convincing. “That is my wish.”

“Lying isn’t your forte,” Lotor said as the two of them stepped foot onto the stone laid walkway around the castle.

“What do you care?” she almost shouted, drawing the attention of the guardsmen on patrol. She lowered her voice as she reeled on him, glowering up with her cornflower blue eyes. “You are getting everything that you want. Why do you care if I’m lying about what I want so long as you get what you want.”

Allura’s hair was curling wildly around her face as she stood staring up at him, angry and chilly. He wanted to brush her hair back from her face and take those lush beautiful pink lips with his mouth and make her knees weaken.

“Whether you believe it or not,” Lotor sighed. “I want you to be happy but that requires you knowing what you really want.”

“I know I don’t want you,” Allura spat.

“We were having a perfectly lovely evening,” he said, fighting his own temper back. He had spent too long with her, his dependence was making itself know. Her anger seemed to make his own anxiety worse. “I think that you are so used to fighting me that you wont even consider the possibility that I am your match.”

Allura paused at his words though, like she had forgotten their quiet evening already. Lotor wasn’t used to putting his feelings to words like he was forced to do with Allura but she seemed to react better to words than to his normal tactic with her; force and brute strength. He had pushed his luck with the political sanctions but here she was before him, his betrothed.

“I’ll bid you good night, Allura,” Lotor said after a while as Allura looked over his face for something. “Let me know when you figure out what you truly want.” He made a quick bow and left her standing the glow of the outside lights where the guard could see her. His hands were shaking and he hoped that she couldn’t see.

“Lotor,” she called when he was only a few paces away. He turned to regard her. “Tomorrow is your tux fitting at noon.”

“Tux?” His brows shot up, unfamiliar with the word.

“For the wedding?” she explained, a golden brow shooting up in a questioning look.

“Ah, good,” Lotor nodded, hoping that he didn’t look as clueless as he felt. He would have to ask Greig what a tux was. “Tomorrow at noon.” He bowed again and headed off toward his ship. He needed his fix and he needed to look up human wedding traditions.

Continue to Chapter Twelve