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Stars flickered across her vision and with time, the searing pain began to subside. The fire that scorched her muscles ebbed away with time, and after a moment – or was it a month… or a year? – her body began to ease. Her fight or flight response gently relaxed and she felt a puff of air leave her lungs in relief.
Allura’s fingers twitched, testing her resurging strength, only to feel her face wince at the thrum of raw pain that rolled up her forearms in response. Memories flickered back to her slowly as her consciousness settled back into her prone body. Flickers of her father’s false shield – the cave in at the caverns. A twinge of alarm surged through her – were her friends safe? Had they found another way to escape? Her directive had been to seek help, and instead she had found Queen Merla. And… her Cosmotron. “…but you have something that I want. Your job.” Her brow furrowed, another exhale leaving her lips as the fabric beneath her fingertips began to register again. “Just like a prince to show up and interfere!” “So true…” “Hello girls! I trust you won’t mind if we join your little party?” A physical flinch rolled down her spine at the echoing memory of the war prince’s words. Please, no more, let me wake up. Her mind screamed against her reluctant body, begging for a reprieve from the memories that echoed through her as her physical form rested against the brutal onslaught. Don’t make me relive – “I’ll tell you a secret. Underneath his uniform he wears foam rubber shoulder pads.” Allura’s cheeks flushed hot for reasons she could not explain, and her fingers curled into fists at her sides, sending a shockwave of pain across her skin. I will wake up. I will wake up. I must wake up – my friends need me! “-place called Infinity.” “Don’t!” Air ripped through her lungs as the strangled cry shattered through the surroundings, her eyes popping wide for the first time. Instinctively she moved to toss her hand over her gaze as the unnatural light pierced her eyes, but a flurry of fabric stalled her momentum. “My sweet?” That voice. Allura’s heart froze before restarting in double time. Ignoring her body’s want for rest, she bolted upright from her reclined position, her eyes snapping to the source of the noise. Static electricity crackled down her spine in defiance and a soft grunt of pain left her lips unchecked before she could catch it. “Easy.” A soothing voice was at her side in a moment, and the Arusian was intimately aware of how very present the man was as he hovered around her. To his credit, Lotor’s palms never touched her; almost as if he were conscious of how fragile her frame was. Allura snorted in frustration, gathering her wits before turning her head up to meet his gaze defiantly. “You.” “How do you feel?” All the anger ebbed from her hardened expression at the unexpected question. “What?” Lotor stepped back while his concerned gaze swept her form. Once certain she was not in any immediate harm to herself, he gave her the space she needed to feel at ease and returned to the mirrored vanity he had vacated at the sound of her voice. “How do you feel,” he repeated, watching her confusion through the mirror. “Where’s Queen Merla?” The princess’ frosty gaze scoured the room in accusation, searching for the woman who had thrown her into the Cosmotron. While the furniture that surrounded her was similar in style, something was intrinsically different about it. Dark steel formed the curved frame of the cushioned bed she rested upon; a light blanket pooled in her lap from her sudden rising. She relaxed slightly, allowing her bare palms to rest on the cool frame of the surface, continuing to flicker around the chamber she found herself in. While it heralded the iconic darkness the prince often brought, it was sterile in a way that she was unused to. “I don’t know. Still with her ship, I presume,” he said; a hint of vitriol lacing his voice. Her brow creased further as she watched him sit upon a stool before a wide mirror, implements laid before him on a bureau: needles, tweezers, bandages and a vial of what she presumed to be disinfectant. “Then… where are we?” Lotor set down the tweezers he had been using against an open wound in his left arm Allura had not previously noticed. “On my ship. Don’t move too quickly, your body is still re-acclimating to this dimension,” he advised when he saw her frame stiffen suddenly. The static that rolled through her at the motion affirmed his observation. “Look,” she began, feeling the heat rise in irritation at how casually he dismissed her predicament. “You can’t just bully people around! You think that just because you make yourself look all big and great with your fake-” Silence hung in the air heavily when Lotor stood up and in an abrupt movement, peeled off his fringed top and tossed aside his gloves. Unfastening the clasps of his tunic, the light blue fabric fell away from an exquisitely chiseled torso. Allura swallowed. He turned to fully face her, taking in the wide gaze and flushed cheeks; it took all his effort not to smile. Casually, he touched one of the swabs to the gash in his skin and deftly wound a bandage around his bicep. “My fake what, my dear?” His voice feigned innocence, as if he hadn't heard Merla’s words. Sweat beaded across Allura’s brow and she forced her eyes away, the image of his contours emblazoned in her mind. Those are certainly not shoulder pads, Merla. What the stars. “Nothing,” she said stiffly, staring firmly at the wall as he continued to attend his wounds. Shyly, she glanced to him out of the corner of her eye, watching the way the limp fabric hung in extraordinarily non-padded folds about his waist, supported only by the belt. “How did you get those injuries?” Lotor stilled as he fastened a bandage into place before looking directly at her, causing her to stiffen and avert her gaze more fully. A lazy smirk curled at his lips as her skin began to match her ruffled pink suit. “Why do you ask, my dear? Surely you aren’t worried for me?” “Of course not, you beast. I just… …they weren’t there before, and I… I don’t… quite remember everything since… well.” When he didn’t reply, her lips pursed together in frustration and she turned to look at him – only to meet the rugged contours of his back as he faced away. Allura’s throat tightened once more but she pressed forward, determined to present a façade of propriety and decorum. “How did I get from there to… what I mean is, when the…” She huffed in frustration. “How did I get here? What… happened?” “I negotiated your release.” Allura glanced from the burn wounds on his arm to the saber resting on the dresser before him, easily within his reach. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to negotiate with words,” Allura admitted, averting her eyes as some of the pieces seemed to fall into place. Lotor stilled. An exhale rolled through his frame and after assuring his injuries were tended, he – with a small amount of reticence – pulled his shirt back on. The fringed tunic remained tossed aside, and the top two clasps remained unbuttoned, but he was, for all intents and purposes, fully clothed once more. “She isn’t.” Warily, the princess turned her gaze back up toward him as he stopped near her bedside. “Thank you.” Her words were earnest and warm, the gratitude sincere as the full weight of everything settled in. A weak grunt of dismissal echoed from his chest before he extended his hand toward her, palm still bare as his gloves lay beside his embellishments. “Can you stand?” An impossibly wide azure gaze widened further at the gesture. “What?” A body that had braced for hostility and combat, conquest and violence found quite the opposite in front of her. “Your friends will need you. Merla stole one of Haggar’s robeasts. If she hasn’t deployed it yet, she will soon.” How strange. She palmed his hand without a second thought and swiftly rose to her feet. Her stance buckled slightly but stabilized with little difficulty. “I believe so,” she answered. With an anxious and protective prince hovering at her side, she followed in his shadow as he led the way down the short corridor to the exit. As the gate swung wide, Allura balked, eyeing the distance from the door to the ground. Under normal circumstances, it would be an easy leap – a mere fifteen feet or so; she had been taught to tumble if needed to avert damage. And yet the nerves in her very being still flickered with latent magic from Merla’s contraption. With a noise of determination, Allura eased herself into a sitting position to minimize the fall distance – but she didn’t get very far. Sensing her caution, Lotor reached down, catching her ribs in one palm and hoisting her daintily into her arms, ignoring her cries of surprise and protest. “Lotor, this is hardly proper, I demand that you-” Her demand faded into a squeak when he jumped effortlessly from the ship, the fragile princess cradled in his arms. For whatever ideas Merla had in her mind about the man, there was no mistaking the way his body flexed around hers, shifting as he landed to absorb the shock of the impact. Shoulder pads, indeed, she thought bitterly. Deftly, he rocked her weight against him until her toes touched down on the solid earth, but it wasn’t until she stabilized her footing did he release her entirely. “The moat is just over the ridge. Can you make it from here?” She stared up into the arrogant – yet concerned – expression on the eerie golden gaze that haunted her nightmares. And dreams. “Yes,” she affirmed after a moment, stepping back to test her body’s reactions. “Yes I can, it’s not far. Thank you. …Thank you for everything,” Allura added. She watched him a moment longer than she should have; as if reluctant to leave his presence. The howl in the distance of a mechanical beast drew a wince across her features and without another word, she turned away, breaking into a slow jog to rejoin her friends. As she felt his gaze pierce her back, Allura couldn’t help but wonder if there were some hope for their future, after all.
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