I Want: Lotor

by Taryn


"You're such an idiot! I should have had you drowned at birth and raised a kitten instead! At least it would have grown up with claws and fangs!"

The words echo through my head as I hurry through the door to my suite of rooms, my only sanctuary in the hell that surrounds me. Eager hands reach for me before the resounding boom of the slammed door has finished reverberating off the walls. They're always here, waiting: the bounty of a hundred conquered worlds, some captives, others raised from birth with no other purpose than to please their master. I can see the normally heady mix of anticipation and fear and lust shining in their eyes, glowing out of the cavernous darkness of the rooms. I chase them away with a roar and the ring of steel on steel as I draw my sword. Pleasant though their diversions may be, tonight I can't stand the thought of other hands touching my flesh, other voices crying out in ecstasy in my ears.

Not after being that close to you.

The worst thing about father's words is that he's absolutely right. I am an idiot. One world, one insignificant, barely protected world, and yet I've failed in the taking again and again. The Doom Empire is becoming the laughing stock of the entire Drule race. And why? It's all for the sake of one beloved face.

Everyone believes it's her that drives me to the brink of insanity, and maybe I'm a fool for allowing the lie to continue. Even you believe, don't you? I wonder if that's why I continue the deception and the games. If nothing else, these little battles for her hand allow me to get close to you.

Sometimes I wonder about that as well. You don't want her any more than I do. I can see it in your eyes, whenever you glance at him. Now there's a battle worth fighting. If only I could defeat him for you, rip that taunting, hateful voice out of his throat and feel the warm sweet spill of his lifeblood washing over my hands. I've longed for that moment, dreamed of it, but it can never be. You would never forgive me, and I could never forgive myself for the pain that one selfish act would inflict on you. So he lives and I continue to falsely chase Allura, frantic for the moments that the capture grants me in your presence. I would spend the rest of my life hunting her down and losing her again to your rescues if for no other reason than to see the flash of barely controlled violence lurking in the dark depths of your eyes. If only you would grant me the concession of time, I could show you that violence, teach you to release it from its hidden depths and tame it into the fire of a passion that would steal your soul.

I know that it can never be. Only in the most twisted of fantasies can two deadly enemies lay down their arms and live a life together, and the tangled web of hate and lies that constricts around us is already too complex to be banished. In my deepest fantasies I see myself defeating you. You lay yourself down before me, body and soul, and we're bound as one. It's so easy in my mind, so incredibly right, and yet reality consistently refuses to accede to my demands.

But there's always a chance, always the next battle waiting in the wings, and the hope is a flame in my heart that will never die. So I'll continue to lay traps for the unwitting princess that is my pawn and bait, and every night I'll live for the day when it's you trapped in my arms, a willing victim to the inevitability of fate.


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