Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.
A/N: Thank all of you who have fav'd and followed. I was unsure of whether or not I was going to continue this story. It was really only a "what if"scenario that my muse would stop playing with during the writing of a larger story I have yet to post here with a different arc. But I she and I decided that a few more chapters are in order to fully explore what it means to be 'Bound'.
That being said, this story is going to have trigger material and non-con reluctance. IF YOU KNOW THAT THESE TOPICS MAY BE TRIGGERING TO YOU, OR YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SUCH TOPICS DO NOT READ.
When Allura awoke she was alone in the bed and her hands were loose from their bonds. She didn't remember falling asleep or being untied. She became aware of a dull headache as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around blearily. She was still in Lotor's stateroom, further confirming that she wasn't having a nightmare she was living one. She sat up and grimaced as she felt a soreness in her nether regions, a painful reminder of the events of previous night. He had taken her a second time and then a third with none of the attempts at seduction of her deflowering. A taste of what he could have done instead-how he could have- She shuddered as she remembered those painful thrusts inside her. If he had meant for her to think it was worse he was wrong. She cringed in shame at the memory of the feel of his hands on her and her body's primal response to his caresses and lurid taunts, What do they call women who enjoy this, Allura?
She was still naked and she clutched the red damask duvet to her chest, wincing and shifting uncomfortably once more. She looked around the room, noting more details about than she had in her panicked state the previous evening. It was decorated with neutral colors and expensive wood paneling. The bed was on a raised platform in its own alcove separate from what she could see of the rest of the suite. The side tables were designed with clean, elegant straight lines in the same dark lacquered gnarly wood as the headboard. She noticed one of the whorls contained the skeletonized remains of a small reptile and frowned in distaste as she recognized the wood of the carnivorous onat tree. Of course Lotor would like it; it was ridiculously expensive and creepy as hell.
She heard footsteps and looked to the source of the sound, bracing, expecting to see Lotor stalking over to her, smirking and ready to begin a new round of assaults on her body. But instead, she was surprised to see the servant she had kicked in the chest from the night before approaching her carrying a tray bearing a round china sphere, brightly painted with a red and black geometric boarder leafed in gold. Allura noted the female Drule was middle aged, (perhaps even older, it was so hard to tell with Drule) but still elegantly beautiful-now that her face was not contorted in pain. She could hang a hundred years off those cheekbones, Allura thought. The woman stared back at her boldly with bright golden eyes, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow as she assessed Allura's disheveled appearance, before assuming an expressionless mask. Allura blushed and looked down.
"Good morning, Princess, how are you feeling?" she asked in heavily accented Common and set the tray down on the bedside table.
Allura glared at her, "How do you think I'm feeling?"
"I would not presume to know, Your Highness," the woman replied, her face still inscrutable.
Allura looked away, feeling a little ashamed of her peevishness. She'd already kicked the poor woman when she tried to untie her, venting her anger at her wouldn't help the situation. She probably has as little choice in this as I do. "I'm thirsty and I have a head ache," she admitted.
The woman inclined her head slightly turned to the tray and removed the top half of the china sphere, revealing that it was a bowl of sorts set upon a small teapot. She set the on the tray and poured the steaming red-brown contents into it. "This should help," she said as she offered Allura the beverage.
Allura picked up the bowl with one hand, careful to keep herself covered by the duvet with her other. "What is this?" she peered into the cup and frowning at the small dark bits she saw floating.
"Ullan," it's a restorative."
Allura lifted the bowl to her lips and took a small sip. Not bad, but not exactly good either. It had a woody, earthy flavor, like slightly sweet tree bark. The small sip had piqued her thirst and she drank some more before handing the bowl back to the servant. "I'd prefer something cold."
"As you command." The servant nodded, her face still blank as she wisked away with the beverage and tray, disappearing through the hidden panel in the wall. Allura stared after her. As you command, the servant had said. So, at least I am to be treated as befits my station, Allura thought.
The servant returned in the blink of an eye, it seemed, this time with a tray bearing carrying a tall glass of cut crystal and a small pitcher of a translucent light peach colored beverage. Allura watched as she filled a gold rimmed goblet placed it on a tray and handed it to her. Allura picked up the glass and eyed its contents suspiciously before taking a sip. It tasted bright, citrus-y, a touch of sweet with a mild effervescence. Much better than hot tree bark tea. She took a deep swallow then realizing how thirsty she was drained the glass. The servant refilled it immediately. She drank this one more slowly, savoring the light sweet, but not too sweet flavor. "This is good. What is it?" she asked glancing down at the contents of the glass.
"Sienea juice. I am happy you are pleased. Do you want to rest or do you need to attend yourself?"
Allura hesitated -confused- and looked from the woman to the tray before she understood the meaning of the servant's question. "I want a bath. A very hot bath," she answered, also in the common language.
A moment later, the woman returned, offering Allura a sumptuously embroidered red silk robe with a soft cashmere-like lining. For a moment Allura just stared at it, and clutched the bed covers tighter to her chest, reluctant to cast it aside and step naked from the bed. After a moment of awkward silence Allura finally said, "Please, just give it to me."
Bowing slightly, the women handed Allura the robe and she shrugged into it, holding it closed as she tossed the bed covers aside and swung her legs over, hopping a bit to the ground. As she turned to tie the belt closed she saw her virgin's blood staining the white sheets and she blushed to the roots of her hair, mortified.
If the servant noticed she gave no sign, "Come, this way," She said and walked ahead. As Allura followed, she couldn't help noticing that the woman's long silver hair was pinned half up with intricate braids and held in place with gold and jeweled pins and how it shimmered with iridescent highlights under the recessed lighting. It looks like abalone...that can't be natural, she thought, padding barefoot on the cool, polished floor, moving stiffly as the ache between her thighs seemed to increase as she walked.
The suite was smaller than Allura expected, surely, she thought that Lotor would have had more more spacious royal apartments than this. These were not even as large her own in the Castle of Lions. But small as they might be, the sleek, elegant style she had noticed in the bedroom continued throughout with straight lines, clean edges and a distinctive lack of clutter. The only ornamentation seemed to be the cream, black and red intaglio floral patterns inlaid on the wood floors. This... is a lot of beige, she mused, surprised. She had thought Lotor would have preferred the more decadent, ostentatious, decor typical of the Drule.
"Where am I?" She asked as they crossed through a small sitting area with two couches and an unlit fire pit.
"You are in His Highness' stateroom," the servant answered politely.
"Yes, I know that. But where exactly?"
"Apologies, Princess, I can not say," the servant replied.
"Where is His Highness?"
"His Highness has pressing issues to attend."
Allura frowned at the woman's taciturn replies. She thought to ask what Lotor was called away for, but realized she would likely get more of the same obfuscation. Lotor is probably in his flagship, attacking my planet. Maybe Keith will kill him. The thought made her smile.
The woman opened the door to the bathroom. Allura walked in ahead of her then stopped short. There were two more servants waiting inside. They were female, Drule, and very, very beautiful. They bowed deeply when they saw her. One held a basket of bottles, which she placed into a cupboard. The other resumed soaking folded cloths into a steaming basin of lavender liquid. A bath was already being prepared. The water poured from a faucet into a deep, built in cream colored marble tub. It was tinted a light green and a thin layer of frothy bubbles spotted the surface. The walls surrounding the bath were matching marble with gold leafed accent mosaic tiles. Candles glowed in built in niches, also leafed in all in gold. And finally, the touch of Korrinite ostentation that she had expected; an ornate, hand tufted red, black and gold silk rug covered the floor. Allura thought it would have been a heavenly place to relax if she was anyplace other than where she was.
"Your bath, Princess?" the servant gestured to the tub.
Allura nodded and loosened the belt of her robe, she looked askance at the three servants staring at her expectantly. She clutched the lapels together for a moment before sighing in resignation and letting it slide off her shoulders. Modesty, it seemed, was an unfamiliar concept with the Drule. The servant who had awoken her helped her by the hand as she stepped into the bath and while another scooped up her robe from the floor.
She settled gingerly into the hot water, crying out when it reached her sore flesh and burned.
At the sound the serving women rushed to her aid, "Is it too hot, Princess?"
Allura waved them off, "No, it's—I'm just—ah-" she broke off suddenly unable to speak and burst into tears.
"Ai! E'i la'a shayo ! An'na ishta! Nemu imi nasu!" the main servant urgently ordered the other two, as she rushed to Allura's side and wrapped her with a thick bath sheet that another woman handed her. She helped Allura out of the tub and to sit on the edge. "Princess, I think you need to see the physician." She said.
Allura sniffed and wiped at her tears with the edge of the bath sheet. She stared down at her thighs, made bright pink from the scalding water. "I don't need a physician. The water was just too hot."
The three women exchanged sympathetic glances before the first one spoke again. "As you say, Princess." She adjusted the temperature of the water and after a moment Allura handed her the towel and slid into the warm water. As she looked up she noticed the servants were staring at the towel. "What is it?"
The head servant hesitated, "You're bleeding."
Despite her protestations -she hadn't really bled, just some faint pink smudges on the the linen- the physician was called. When she refused again, they, the doctor and the main servant, had pretended to acquiesce. The doctor offered her a pain reliever which she accepted before realizing a few moments later it was actually a sedative. A strong one.
Mumbling and flailing ineffectually, she was led back to the bedroom, laid down and examined. It was decided an injection in her arm and a single, relatively painless, stitch elsewhere was needed.
All through it, she wept. Although the doctor did nothing to hurt her-he had even made efforts to make it more comfortable. Regardless of the fact that she was a grown woman and had had gynecological exams before and knew what to expect. In spite of the drugs meant to calm her, she closed her eyes tightly and wept hot, slow, silent tears. Because this was different, not in it's protocol or method but because she did not consent. The whole procedure was an awful, sickening testimony to her complete powerlessness. It was coercive. Invasive. Violating. At least as much, if not more so, than what Lotor did to her last night. It seemed she had no say in what happened to her body any longer.
Afterward, still woozy from the either the first drug or the second, she had insisted on being allowed to bathe; to wash off the filthy feeling of helplessness and shame coating her skin. When bathing was denied she cursed them all (using crude Terran insults, learned from Lance, which disparaged both their mothers and their dogs) and demanded a shower. This, thankfully, was allowed. One of the servants had stepped into the large stall and helped her wash her hair. She styled it too. She sat a groggy,compliant Allura down on a chair and brushed it and wound it around long foam rollers that would create smooth bouncy waves. She complemented her haltingly in Common on it's thickness and color. Allura ignored her. When the woman had finished securing the last roller she began to apply make up to Allura's eyes while her hair set.
The princess continued to sit passively, acutely aware of the helpless anger burning under the bonds of sedation, as the other servant lacquered the nails of her hands and feet blood red and dusted the tips with gold flakes that glimmered when they caught the light. Nanny had never let her wear any color but a sheer, natural pink. A color befitting maidens and virgin princesses. Nanny had said that red was gaudy and cheap. Allura closed her eyes to it.
When the other woman had finished with styling her hair and make up she held up a mirror so Allura could see her handiwork. She barely recognized her reflection. Smokey eye shadow and liner rimmed her eyes and her lips and nails matched her scarlet turned away. What do they call them, Allura? She had no desire to see what she had been turned into: a painted harlot.
They led her back to the bedroom and she crawled back on the bed and slept. Sometime later she awoke, still in her robe, disoriented, dehydrated and with a head-ache. This time the servant was there immediately.
"May I serve you, Princess?" She asked.
"Yes," Allura replied, "Bring me something to get this taste out of my mouth, please."
This time the woman had the crystal decanter of juice immediately at hand. She handed Allura the goblet on a tray.
At first sip Allura's thirst seemed to increase and she drank the entire contents. She held out the empty glass, but before she even could ask for more the servant was already refilling it. She's already remembering what I like and anticipating my needs, I'm probably going to be seeing a lot of her, Allura mused. "What is your name?"
The servant turned instantly and said with slight bow, "I am called Tana, Princess."
"Tana, I'm starving. Could you bring me something to eat?" She really was hungry and was also hoping to lead the woman to drop a hint at what time of day it was.
"As you command."
Allura watched carefully as Tana bowed and departed back behind the panel that undoubtedly led to servants' passages; trying to see what means she used to open it. As it slipped back into place she thought she heard a 'click.' Allura narrowed her eyes, I don't know how it opens yet; but I know it has a lock.
Finally alone, Allura sipped her juice, set it on the bedside table and lay back down on the pillows, thoughts of escape pricking at her mind. I have to find a way to access that panel. But first I need to find out where it goes.
Tana returned, not through the panel, much to Allura's disappointment, but rather through the living quarters of the suite. "Do you feel well enough to sit in the dining area, or would you like to be served here, Princess?"
Allura stared at her sullenly. My God! I'm not crippled. And she's so damn...professional. Have to hand it to Lotor, he has good help. She tossed the silk damask aside, noting as she did so the fineness of the fabric and how the scarlet complimented the warm woodwork. And good taste, she thought grudgingly.
She followed Tana to the room with the fire pit. It was lit and cast a warm comforting glow over the room. A circular couch surrounded it and several plates of food were laid out along the granite stone lip. One had thinly sliced meats, another with fruit, both sliced and arraigned like the petals of a flower and a third was piled with fragrant herbs and vegetables. A small brass pot of savory broth was simmering on the grate over the fire next to a block of salt.
"Is this breshi?" Allura asked, frowning at the traditional breakfast soup. Had I slept that long?
"Yes. Would you like something else?" Tana replied.
Allura paused. She liked breshi, in fact it was one of her favorite meals, although on Altea it was more often served for lunch or dinner. She scanned the assortment of meats and herbs, noticing several of her favorites along with Drule delicacies she had only heard about. Embargo and expense had denied her the opportunity to experience them firsthand. "I was just wondering if it was morning here-where ever here is."
"It is-" Tana hesitated, "-mid-afternoon, on Altea. The doctor was concerned you would need a light meal because of-"
"All of the narcotics he pumped into me?" Allura finished.
Tana glanced down, and for a moment seemed chagrined, "Yes, Princess. Would you like something else? "
Allura shook her head and sat down on the couch. "Why are you being so kind to me?" Allura asked.
"Kind?" Tana hesitated before she continued, "The Prince Imperial has charged me personally with assuring your well being."
"I see," Allura said. She's just doing her duty. I won't get any help from her. "Ha, my well being. That's a good one," the princess snapped sarcastically.
"Your Highness? Is there something you need? You have only to ask. Are you in pain? Should I call the physician?" Tana asked, alarmed, an expression of genuine concern on her face.
That's not for me; she's just worried about her own skin, Allura thought angrily. "Is there something I need?! Something I need?!" She mocked. "What kind of a question is that? Of course there's something I need! I need to escape! To get back to Altea and my peo-" She stopped suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and choked back a sob, "To get out of here before-before he comes back and hurts me again," Allura finished softly as tears she was fighting spilled down her cheeks. She turned away buried her face in her hands.
After a moment, Allura got control of herself once more, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up. She saw Tana at the sideboard pouring a deep ruby wine into a glass.
The servant approached her with the beverage. "Princess, drink this. It will calm you."
"I don't want to calm down," Allura glared at the proffered glass. More intoxicants. She had half a mind to slap it out of Tana's hand.
Tana inhaled deeply before she spoke again, as if deciding exactly what to say. And what not to. "Your Highness, for what it's worth, His Highness will not be back this evening. He was also- quite distressed when I informed him of your injury." She offered the glass of wine again, "In the mean time, consider your situation carefully and do not make this worse than it needs to be."
"Make this worse? How can this possibly get any worse?"
"If the king were to learn of your capture, I assure you, your circumstances would get much, much worse." Tana's mask faltered and her expression was grim.
"Zarkon?" Allura felt the hair rise on her neck.
Tana nodded and Allura took the glass of wine, clutched it with both trembling hands and drank deeply.