Love Is Stronger Than Death
Chapter 5: Pale Shelter
By Purrsia Kat
For once, things had gone their way during the long battle with the miraculous emergence of the Blue Lion. Coran, it had seemed, pulled himself together enough to make the attempt and did well enough for Voltron to make an appearance. The lions, and Lance’s Red Lion in particular, had already taken some heavy damage and couldn’t have lasted too much longer, so Keith couldn’t really question the wisdom of the move. Voltron once more gave them the edge they needed to drive the remainder of Lotor’s forces back along with dispatching the robeast. Now they were at the top of a cliff, where only moments before the wreckage of Bandor’s vessel sat half-submerged in the waters below.
They’d used Voltron to carefully bring the wrecked ship to the grassy surface above, and Keith hoped Bandor had caught some of the good fortune himself. The wreck looked bad, but it was no wonder. He imagined the ship had hit the water hard and skipped like some giant flat stone until the unforgiving face of the cliff brought the journey to an abrupt end. Mighty boulders poking out of the sea were the only things keeping the downed ship from sinking to the depths below it. If Bandor had survived, he was surely hurt. Of course, he wished they could have rescued Romelle as well, but Lotor fled without a hint of what became of her.
The task done, Voltron disengaged and the pilots exited to converge on the wreckage. Sloshing over the wet earth, which had gotten a good soaking from the rain the night before, the group spotted a split in the side of the ship and considered it a good enough entrance. Lance pushed ahead of Keith to enter the wreck first, vexing the captain a little, and reached Bandor first.
“He’s here,” Lance announced, beckoning the others over with an impatient wave of his arm. The white on Lance’s space suit made it at least easier to detect the motion in the shadows of the mangled bridge.
“Is he hurt?” Keith heard Hunk ask from somewhere behind him.
“Unconscious at least. And pinned,” came Lance’s reply as he strained to move the console that had Bandor trapped.
Keith glanced around the shattered bridge, noting the outline of other still forms about, but there was no movement – not even the occasional moan or groan of the injured. Reaching Lance’s side, Keith looked down at where his friend knelt beside Bandor’s form. On this side of the ship there wasn’t much light – not enough to assess any grave injuries. They’d have to free him first.
Hunk’s touch to his shoulder caused Keith to step aside, as the man stepped between him and Pidge to get to the scene. “Here, let me.”
Even with Hunk’s brute force, it took considerable strain to lift the console enough for Lance to pull Bandor’s limp body out from underneath.
“Be careful,” Keith warned. “We don’t want to jostle him too much until we know how bad he’s hurt.”
“Let’s get him into some light,” Lance suggested while doing his best to gently bring Bandor nearer to the jagged tear in the fuselage.
Pidge let out a gasp first, and then Keith understood why. Bandor’s complexion was a ghostly white. They were too late.
“Oh man, that thing crushed him,” Hunk lamented.
But Keith’s eyes fell to Bandor’s chest, where a peculiar hole was seen in his tunic. “No, don’t be so sure.”
Kneeling beside Bandor’s body, Keith spread the hole in the fabric open with his hands and saw what he suspected in the flesh below. It was a nearly bloodless wound, made with a stabbing implement – the kind that often cauterized the wound at the same time as inflicting it – a laser sword. And he knew of only one particular person who was fond of such arms.
“Lotor. He did this.”
***********
Mogor did
his best to steady himself on the uneven terrain composed of skulls. Even from
this distance – one he’d put between himself and Prince Lotor not by accident –
he could feel the anger radiating from every pore on the prince. It was bad
enough that instead of receiving a little credit or acknowledgement for the
success of his leg of the mission, he actually got blamed for Lotor’s
failure to take Arus. If he had done his job faster, Lotor had raged, and
joined the barrage on Arus, the fight would have been
over before Voltron’s shocking appearance ruined everything. Never
mind that Mogor had accomplished exactly what he was told to do, and with less
casualties and damage than expected. The
Mogor was more than a little angry about the buck being passed to him and would have brought up some of these fine points, but Lotor’s ill temper was well known. It would not behoove him to argue the point. Not unless he wanted to join the pitiful Princess of Pollux in her fate here at the Pit of Skulls. So for now, he took the uncalled for berating on the chin and did his best not to say or do anything further to stoke Lotor’s anger. He simply hoped Lotor would not suddenly find his intake of breath annoying. Obviously, the crown prince didn’t need much of a reason to take his rage out on others.
The embittered doom commander turned his attention to Romelle, whose arms were still bound behind her and gag yet in place, as Lotor tossed her carelessly toward the rim of the Pit. Her graceless landing shifted the skulls that dotted the landscape and sent several dropping off into the darkness of the pit behind her, a cryptic preview of her fate. He could tell the woman was trying to keep on a brave face, but Mogor could see the fear in her eyes.
“Here I will complete my extermination of the royal house of Pollux,” Lotor announced with much bravado, though Mogor knew it probably wouldn’t be Lotor doing the deed. He was far from squeamish when it came to murdering the deserving, but when it came to the execution of women, particularly one he’d found attractive, he preferred not to get his own white gloves dirty. “Though I will admit you won’t be nearly as fun to kill as your sniveling brother. Did you know he actually cried and begged pitifully for his life? And he called himself a prince.”
Romelle struggled against her gag, and Mogor could see tears well up in her eyes.
Lotor looked down on her with smug satisfaction. “I had entertained the idea of two beautiful princesses warming my bed, but let’s face it Romelle. You’re no Allura.”
Lotor turned his glare on Mogor, though Mogor did his best to avoid direct eye contact. “Morgil,” he sneered, which made Mogor wince in spite of himself. “Dispose of the prisoner.”
The purposeful mangling of his name was another reminder of why it was useless to speak up for oneself around Lotor. Back when he’d just replaced the ill-fated Yurak, Lotor had mistakenly referred to him by the wrong name. Without thinking, he politely corrected Lotor only to witness first hand the prince’s mood swings and get a lecture about how he wasn’t significant enough to have his name remembered. Others tried to assure him he was lucky a tongue-lashing was all he got, for the gossips in the ranks claim Lotor had slain finer men over lesser offenses. Since then, Lotor would get the name wrong on purpose at opportune times to irk Mogor. It was a snotty reminder of who matters and who’s in charge. As much as Mogor tried not to let it bother him, the truth was, it did.
Without bothering to correct or even really acknowledge Lotor, he gave the order to the line of armed robots soldiers standing nearby.
“Fire!”
Laser fire lit up the dreary pit while Romelle rolled and struggled as best she could to avoid direct hits. The activity caused such a stir, a great deal of the skulls beneath her shifted, creating a horrible cascade that took her – muffled wails and all – down into the depths of the Pit.
Lotor seemed satisfied with himself until Zarkon made his presence known, causing both Lotor and Mogor to start nearly simultaneously. “I ought to throw you in after her, my moronic son.”
Mogor tried to keep the smile threatening to form on his lips reined in. He watched Lotor whirl around and gape at his father before putting on a fierce scowl of indignation. “Father, I—”
“You nothing,” Zarkon interrupted. “And that’s the problem. Now, I think it’s time we did things my way.”
Something in Zarkon’s cool tone sent a shock of panic into Lotor, for he scrambled toward his father, nearly toppling himself in the process. “No, wait—”
Zarkon held up one mighty hand. “You had your chance. And yet, Arus is still not a part of the Empire. Why is that?”
Mogor braced himself to receive a bulk of the blame, but to his surprise, the Prince took an entirely different approach. “Listen Father, I know you want to use Allura as a hostage to force their surrender – win Arus without firing a shot.”
Zarkon’s visage bore the expression of someone who feigned being impressed. “So you do listen to me after all.”
Lotor fidgeted with the fear of a man who did not want to lose a dream he’d fought hard to win. “We can still do that but let me marry her first. That way, once they realize she’s alive and well, there’s no risk that Doom be invaded by Voltron to secure her rescue. Arus will be acquired harmlessly through our union. And by the same means, so will Voltron.”
Zarkon seemed skeptical. “How will you get her to agree to that?”
Unlike Lotor, Zarkon was not one to underestimate his enemies, so it didn’t surprise Mogor that he didn’t even attempt to posture as if it was impossible for Voltron to make an appearance on Doom.
A fiendish smile came across Lotor’s face that was so devilish it even gave Mogor a bit of a chill. “She will.”
For Zarkon’s part, he was considerably unmoved. “You’ve got 48 hours. If you’re not wed to Allura by then, we seal the deal my way.”
**********
Keith stood in the doorway of the mausoleum, flanked by the remainder of the team.
“Do we hafta look?” Pidge asked warily.
“Yes,” Keith said firmly. “Look. She’s gone.”
The room remained just as he’d left it earlier – windows shattered, and caskets shot and torn apart. The flora in Allura’s empty casket still held a strong fragrance, and Keith knew they were used for the macabre purpose of masking the scent of a body that has not been embalmed as it decays. But no trace of the fallen Princess was to be found, and indeed, as Keith pointed out to his hesitant comrades, her mother’s body still donned the jewels and other finery it was laid to rest with. Robbery, he had become certain, was not the motive for this grave robber, whoever he may be.
“That’s sick,” Lance said bluntly in agreement with Keith’s conclusion. “What would anyone want with a dead body?”
Hunk shrugged. “There’s lots of weirdoes out there. I mean, look at Lotor.”
“Lotor’s not weird, he’s insane,” Lance corrected Hunk.
“Guess they should have guarded this place better,” Pidge offered. “I bet they will, now.”
Lance picked up a splintered piece of casket before tossing it back to the floor. “They wanted it open so the people could come pay their respects in privacy whenever they wanted. She was dear to a lot of her people – no way they could all pack into that cathedral. Too bad someone took advantage of this generous opportunity in such a strange way.”
Keith wandered around the room, carefully looking for any clues as to who the body snatcher could be. Maybe to some people it wasn’t important what was done with a body after death, but in the Earth culture he was from, burial and ceremony were very important. He really wanted to return Allura to her rightful resting place.
“Guys, there is at least one dead body in here,” Pidge noted, giving the former queen’s remains a nervous sidelong glance. “This is giving me the creeps.”
Whereas Keith might have agreed with him beforehand, he was less uncomfortable now. Finding out what happened was overriding any other emotions for the moment.
“Don’t worry. Coran is on his way with new caskets so that we can clean up and get the Queen returned to rest properly but I wanted you all to see this undisturbed and help me look for clues regarding what might have happened,” Keith explained calmly.
Lance gave the space a once over and shrugged. “I gotta say, I don’t see much of anything that wasn’t caused by the shooting. Whoever took her was careful not to leave anything behind.”
Without much warning, Lance nearly toppled over. If not for an alert Hunk there to steady him, he would have. Keith’s brow furrowed with concern.
“You okay?” Hunk asked, as Lance rubbed his forehead.
Lance nodded. “I think so. Just got dizzy for a minute.”
“You were tossed around a lot in that last fight,” Keith noted. “You probably should be at the Castle getting medical attention.”
Where Lance looked determined to shake it off, Pidge seemed inspired. “Guys, I’m all woozy, too. Can I go back to the Castle?”
Keith sighed. “No, but you can go ask the locals if they’ve noticed anything or anyone around the mausoleum.”
Pidge seemed satisfied with the compromise and wasted little time exiting the small building, passing Coran on the way out. “See ya,” he chirped to which Coran barely acknowledged.
Coran walked in and stopped, surveying the damage for a quiet moment. “Despicable,” was his uttered summation.
Nobody had anything to add to that, it seemed. Keith noticed, however, that Coran still looked rather drawn and a bit on the haggard side. Of course, the fight in the Blue Lion hadn’t done much for him either. It was a lifesaving move he’d made, but Keith was aware that at his advanced age and with questionable flying skills, it was a band-aid fix. Long term, Coran wouldn’t last even if they did invest time into training him properly. Lance, even at a young age, was a current testament to the abuse they took in battle and the toll it could take. Furthermore, after getting undisputable confirmation the replacement pilot was gone, they were in quite a bind even yet. It wouldn’t be long before Zarkon made another attempt to take Arus. Keith wondered if they should try searching for an Arusian replacement. It would take more work to train someone with absolutely no experience in the air, but it was the best they could do with Sven still laid up on Planet Ebb.
Two castle guards pushed into the mausoleum and began the delicate task of clean up. Keith was about to approach Coran on the topic of a pilot for Blue Lion, when Lance lost his fight to stay on his feet and collapsed. Clearly, that crash had done more damage than any of them initially believed.
“Take the carriage back to the Castle,” Coran ordered, with less alarm than Keith would have figured. “I’ll page Castle Control to have Dr. Gorma ready to help.”
Keith nodded, grateful to see some of the old Coran was showing through, before helping Hunk load Lance into the back of the now-empty carriage. He couldn’t help but wonder what else could possibly go wrong.
*************
Romelle woke in pain and confusion, at first unable to remember where she was or how she’d gotten there. It took her sometime to realize that her groans were unfettered, the gag having been removed. It was hard to get her eyes to focus in the dim candlelight, and when she tried to sit up, her entire body screamed in painful protest.
“Don’t try to move,” she heard an unfamiliar voice with some kind of thick, foreign accent tell her. Its tone was without much warmth, and it made Romelle fear whose presence she might be in. She tried desperately to see who it was, but he remained hidden in the shadows, appearing to her only as an ominous silhouette.
“Who are you?” she managed to choke out, while stubbornly refusing to heed his advice.
“I’m nobody,” came his curt reply. “And stop struggling! Do you want them to hear your cries and come finish the job?”
Romelle couldn’t decide if this man was a friend or foe, but as she looked down at herself, it was clear someone had attempted to bandage her various wounds. Her arm was in a sling, and it hurt horribly. She guessed she broke it in the fall. Otherwise, she had more than a few laser gun wounds that someone had carefully taken care of. Deciding the man wouldn’t have gone to that much effort if he meant her harm, she relaxed a little, resting her head back on the dirt and letting out a ragged, weary sigh. The two sat in silence for some time, her eyes finally able to focus on the light from the candle flame dancing on the ceiling.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she spoke aloud, though she wasn’t sure her companion would care about her problems. “They’ve killed my brother and now my planet is without a ruler. And Allura. They’ve got her, too, and nobody knows it!”
“Allura? Of Arus?”
Romelle turned her head to peer at the shadowy figure, surprised he seemed so much less guarded at the mention of her cousin’s name. “Yes. She’s my cousin. You know her well?”
The man hesitated before offering a cautious reply. “We’ve met.” After another pause, he added, “At first, I thought you were her.”
“Then you’ve got to help me. We can’t leave her up there at the mercy of that monster, Lotor.”
The man finally moved out of the shadows, allowing Romelle a good look at him for the first time. It struck her that he’d probably roamed these dank passages below the Pit of Skulls for some time for he was rather dirty and unkempt. She saw a wildness in his eyes that frightened her a little. She had to wonder how such a man ever made the acquaintance of Princess Allura.
“No.”
Romelle scowled. What sort of heartless beast could have met Allura, someone of so much compassion, and not feel moved to save her from a fate that was arguably worse than this? “Fine. I’ll do it on my own. Thank you for your help,” she told him, once again trying to deal with the pain long enough to get upright.
Romelle was shocked when the man sat down beside her and forced her onto her back. “You’re not going anywhere.” He spoke in such a cool way, a chill shot up Romelle’s spine. He was definitely strange, if not outright mad. Trouble was she was in no shape to fight him off.
*************
Keith waited patiently at Lance’s bedside for Dr. Gorma to render his diagnosis. Lance had been in and out of consciousness on the way to the Castle, Hunk reported, and seemed confused during his wakeful moments.
“He’s got a closed head injury,” the doctor explained finally. “He should rest and be monitored closely, but I don’t believe it is life threatening. His brain just needs a chance to heal properly.”
Keith nodded. It was the best news they could have gotten, considering, though he could see possible issues with Lance staying on bed rest. Lance was never one to complain about aches and pains, much less let them sideline him. This time, however, that toughness may have made things worse.
“I’ve given him something to make him sleep for a few hours,” the doctor said before leaving. “So don’t be alarmed if you’re not able to rouse him for now.”
The doctor gone, Keith turned to Hunk.
“Now what are we gonna do?” Hunk wondered. “Even with Coran in the Blue Lion we’re toast if Lotor comes back any time soon.”
It was a legitimate concern, one of many things Keith had given thought to recently. “Well, we wanted to know what Zarkon was really up to,” Keith replied. “I’m going to go find out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to Doom, alone.”
Hunk’s jaw dropped. “But—”
Keith held up a hand to stop him. “I’m just going for reconnaissance. It’s better I go solo - better chance of going undetected.”
Hunk remained unsure. “I don’t know. We’ll be down to two lions, with a pretty shaky third. It’s risky.”
“I know, but we’re living on borrowed time anyway. I’d rather get the jump on them so we can try to do something proactive instead of just reacting all the time. With Lance out, we’ll need all the advantage we can get.”
“What about the meteors, magnetic fields and all that junk around Doom?” Hunk wanted to know. “If something happens to Black Lion – or you – we’re done for.”
“They get their fleets in and out of it somehow,” Keith reasoned, “I’m sure I can get the Black Lion through there. And don’t worry about me – remember, we’ve all been on Doom before and got out in one piece. That’s another good reason not to send someone else. At least I’m familiar with it.”
Hunk slowly nodded. “Pollux was our best source of inside information on Doom. With Bandor gone…” He trailed off, before adding, “Poor little guy.”
“I know. We’ve got to fight like we’ve never fought before. For Bandor, For Allura, and for everyone else who loves freedom.”
Hunk smacked his fist into his palm. “Mmmm, Lotor makes me so mad! How could he do something like that to Bandor?”
As if on cue, a castle guard entered the room. “Excuse me, captain,” he said. “A Polluxian fleet has landed to collect the fallen.”
“Thank you,” Keith acknowledged as he prepared to leave. Coran was still at the mausoleum so it would fall to him to stand by Queen Orla as she met with the Polluxian Ambassador to extend regrets on behalf of Arus for their losses, and in particular, for the loss of young Bandor.
*************
Allura had just spent her first full day on Doom being pampered by legions of Lotor’s eager servants. She’d been treated well and yet, she was still miserable wondering what was going on in the world outside and beyond. Furthermore, all the attention made it impossible for her to try to slip away, which she supposed, was half the idea. She was too anxious about what Lotor had been up to, knowing his absence probably had to do with an attack on her home world, to put up much of a protest as the servants busied themselves with transforming her look. The thought of what was happening to her loved ones and her people without Voltron to defend them made her feel sick with worry. It was only now that she’d taken full stock of what they’d done.
They’d given her new clothes among other beauty treatments, most of which she didn’t care for. Allura had a feeling the things they’d done weren’t random but rather, that there had been some kind of plan or purpose to their choices. For one thing, they’d spent much energy working to take the natural wave out of her hair to straighten it. The gown was not something she would have chosen for herself, though it was mercifully on the modest side and not really something she would have envisioned Lotor choosing for her. It was a pale blue with long sleeves and an elegant A-line skirt. It was a pleasant enough fabric against her skin, but it was quite a change from her usual and preferred pink tones. She’d also been denied all symbols of her Arusian station, and Allura had no idea what became of those accessories. The make-up, particularly the heavy lipstick, she could have done without as well.
She sighed, finding herself once again alone in the expanse of Lotor’s bedroom, though she always felt as though she were being watched even when she was alone. Allura supposed nightfall was coming on, although in the dense fog around the castle, it was difficult to distinguish day from night. It created an oppressive atmosphere and only added to her distress. One thing she tried not to dwell on too much was what she was waiting there for. As much as Nanny would like to believe it, Allura was not as naïve as some likely thought, and it made Allura shudder to think of what would happen when Lotor did return to her.
Allura turned as she heard the lift slow to a stop. She dared not take a breath as she waited for the occupant to step out into the room.
This is it, she thought worriedly. She seriously pondered if it would do her any good to resist, or if she should just submit and get it over with. Resistance seemed to be winning the day as her eyes swept the room for anything she could use as a weapon.
Her eyes were drawn back to the lift as Lotor emerged from it, and her breath caught in her throat. The sensation was made worse when Lotor looked upon her and a demented look of pleasure crossed his visage. He approached her wearing that snidely confident half-smile she was fast coming to loathe.
“You look magnificent,” he said, gripping her near the shoulders.
She stiffened at his touch and closed her eyes tightly.
Ignoring her aversion, he pulled her close and seemed to take in her essence with his every sense. Finally, he coaxed her to look up at him. By the way he took stock of her, she knew he was analyzing the mistrust she conveyed.
He smoothed a hand over her hair, likely in an effort to comfort her, though Allura found the touch all the more unnerving. Her lack of hiding that emotion angered him.
Lotor pushed away from her and scowled. “You must learn to trust me, my dear.”
Allura’s jaw fell open. “Y-you put me under some kind of spell and kidnapped me. And I’m supposed to trust you?”
He groaned and shook his head. “We keep having the same conversation, Allura. You fight fate, but fate always wins. We’re meant to be together. I just sped up the process.”
Allura was tired of trying to argue with his twisted notion of what love and devotion were, and looked away.
“I offer you protection, affection and anything else you could desire,” he went on.
Tears welled up in Allura’s eyes once more. For all his talk of giving her whatever she desired, he denied her what she wanted most. “I had all of that. At home, on Arus.”
Lotor snorted with derision. “You mean Keith? He’s done a fine job of protecting you, hasn’t he? If he loved you half as much as I do, he’d never fallen for such a parlor trick and allowed you to –”
“What?” Allura challenged, feeling a sudden rush of boldness. She felt she had little to lose at this point. “Allow me to fall into your wretched hands?”
Lotor’s lip curled in contempt. “He’s pathetic. He can’t even show you how he feels where I’m unafraid. I’d never let you go, Allura, not even in death.”
The sentiment was probably one of the most twisted oaths Allura had ever heard, and she found herself again unbelieving that he did not even seem to recognize how sick it sounded. She might have wished Keith would express some of the underlying affection she sensed from him, but she would never expect anyone to do what Lotor just asserted. Love was one thing, obsession quite another. And she was not enjoying the business of being the object of Lotor’s obsessive affections.
With renewed courage, she looked him in the eye. “What are you going to do?”
He let the question linger between them before choosing his answer carefully. “I’m going to leave you here to get some rest. I have big plans for us tomorrow.”
The answer was nothing like Allura expected, and she could tell he picked up on her surprise.
“Why so shocked? Did you think I came up here to have my way with you?”
Her fiery blush gave him all the answer he needed.
“You think you know me, Allura, but there’s much you don’t know. Yes, I’ve done some things you might find abhorrent but what you don’t understand are the reasons. Just like you don’t understand why I don’t simply force your hand now that I have you cornered. You’ve got a lot to learn, dear Princess.”
She watch slack-jawed as he left. No sooner had he entered the lift than two robot guards came in to stand watch over her. Allura wasn’t sure what game he was playing, though she was grateful for the reprieve. However, she had a feeling sleep would not come to her easily in this strange place even without Lotor’s presence. She would have to use the time to think of a way to win this battle of wills with the Prince of Doom.
**************
How can I be sure?
When your intrusion is my illusion
How can I be sure
When all the time you changed my mind
I asked for more and more
How can I be sure
When you don’t give me love
You gave me pale shelter
You don’t give me love
You give me cold hands
And I can’t operate on this failure
When all I want to be is
Completely in command
How can I be sure
For all you say you keep me waiting
How can I be sure
When all you do is see me through
I asked for more and more
How can I be sure
I’ve been here before
There is no why, no need to try
I thought you had it all
I’m calling you, I’m calling you
I ask for more and more
How can I be sure
When you don’t give me love
You gave me pale shelter
You don’t give me love
You give me cold hands
And I can’t operate on this failure
When all I want to be is
Completely in command
--Pale Shelter,
Tears For Fears
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