Disclaimer: Voltron does not belong to me. Keith/Allura shippers should be very grateful for that, because I find the pairing very dull. No disrespect meant, however. To each their own.
This wasn't planned, it just appeared one day when I was bored and wanted to write something. It is plenty old, but so is the cartoon it is based on. Read and let me know what you think! Please no flames!
The thing the old witch perhaps admired most about her Prince was his inability to accept defeat. Some would call it fool-headedness, but she liked to think of it as perseverance. Defeats, for him, were always defined as delays. Even now, after being thwarted so many times, he still assumed that each battle would be final victory.
It was too bad that wasn't the case.
Of course, that was his own fault. His weakness.
Unfortunately, she had taken the same weakness into herself, in part. She admired his perseverance, his refusal to give-up---even as she knew he had no particular hope to ever gain what he sought. Even possessing it would not give it to him.
From his side she watched the distant battle unfold. It was hours in the making, and hours in movement, but there was still the same cold fascination in his eyes. Part of it was the violence, an element that seemed to weave around every moment of his waking mind. But another part, one so bound to that weakness, was his want, no---need to possess his enemy in whole.
She had understood it at first. The Princess was a representation of her subjects, to conquer and enslave her was to conquer and enslave her people. She could even understand his continued attempts to get at her, as Haggar knew that rejection would only fuel him more. Where she had ceased to follow him was when he seemed to set her above the wealth of her planet and the further expansion of the Empire. What once was a spoil of war, was now the cause of it. And she did not know why one pretty little piece of flesh was worth so much 'delay'.
Blue Lion crossed the main viewscreen, and she watched his eyes widen again, trying to take in as much of the scene as possible. His lips always parted with anticipation, even as his eyes hardened with anger. And that lazy arrogance would leave him, replaced with a watchful tension, a flexing of his hands. The Blue Lion fell back from the battle in one flash line across the screen, and his gold eyes followed the movement even when it had continued out of sight. Sometimes he relaxed when he couldn't see her, sometimes he didn't.
There was a high-pitch beep to their right, and the officer manning that station reported, "Direct hit on the Blue Lion!" His smaller screen showed a one-man fighter hotly firing on the Princess in her retreat.
Lotor whirled around, and the messenger instantly shrank back in his chair. "Who did that," he barked out, causing a spurt of terror to run through nearly all present. The Crown Prince was well-known for his infamous, sometimes murderous rages. They often started like this---without warning.
One of those at the weapons controls sputtered out an answer, Haggar wasn't sure which, but she was sure it didn't matter.
"Sire, th—that was Norom." And because he knew enough to know who was flying the Blue Lion, the unnamed officer left it at that. Norom was a fool.
"Shoot him down."
"But, Sire," Haggar hissed in disbelief, "Norom is one of ours. Besides, no harm was done!" And it was true, Blue Lion had already recovered and was once again engaged in battle.
Lotor glared at her, repeated in such a way that even she shuddered, "Shoot. Him. Down."
A royal order given and followed. Haggar watched as three of Doom's fighters converged on the unsuspecting Norom, and proceeded to send him falling out of the sky in a bright arc of flame.
Lotor watched it stoically, then walked the front of the bridge, to the main viewscreen. "Hail the Princess."
She won't answer, Haggar thought. She never answered.
"Sire, the Princess is not answering."
"Well, continue hailing her until she does," Lotor snapped.
Several minutes later and many more hails, the screen finally flickered, and all on the floor held their collective breath. She had actually answered, this was a first.
The cockpit of Blue Lion appeared, a flurry of motion as the petite blonde worked over her controls. Her brow was deeply furrowed, and stray gold curls had escaped from her helmet to cling to her cheeks. She looked tired, and with reason. She had been piloting her Lion non-stop for at least two hours, maybe more.
"What do you want," she snapped, not bothering to look up from the many buttons and controls spread out around her. Focus on the battle, but also because she knew exactly who she was talking to. No doubt, she blamed her exhaustion fully on him.
"Just to make sure you were unharmed," he said as sincerely as Lotorly possible.
She paused, her blue eyes turning from her controls up to him in surprise and suspicion. "I'm...fine." For several seconds the battle raged on outside her awareness. No one shot at her in her moment of weakness. Having learned Norom's lesson, no one dared to.
Lotor nodded his head, seemingly pleased. "Good."
Allura chewed her lip, then noticed that she had practically stopped in the centre of the fighting. Her eyes widened, and she immediately started pressing various buttons, sending Blue Lion back into action.
The screen blinked back to the busy Arusian skyline, but Prince Lotor seemed less interested in the war he had waged. Haggar watched him move back to his usual place of command and fold himself leisurely around the chair.
Watching her prince, the old witch realized something she had never noticed before. It startled her so that her bony hand tightened noticeably on her beloved staff.
He was indeed weak.
He was in love.
The End. Or not---I haven't decided yet...
Feedback is great for inspiration! *winkwink*