Since my Lollura fic has been completely joshed by S3 now Im pretty much abandoning this series of drabbles but I figured I might as well post the part I finished. Takes place in an AU I guess where Lotor and Allura grew up together.
The Prettiest Ghosts
When she comes to she’s in luxury and hand cuffed. If Lance we’re around he might make a sex joke. But Lance isn’t around. In fact she doesnt know where he or the other paladins are. If they’re safe. Alive. If they were captured.
Like she clearly has been.
It’s a bedroom. Expansive but dim. Why did Galra have to pick such, grim ugly colours? Then again, she knew their eyes were sensitive in ways Alteans we’re not. She did in fact remember him telling her that they didn’t see their own colour scheme as gritty.
“You’re awake.” he notes and she feels sick. She might entirely lose her self if it wasn’t for the cuffs keeping her hands bound. She sits up best she can on the bed. Rich red. The heavy purple curtainsaround it.
Lotor turns on a lamp and all around the room different bright pink violet crystal lamps glow.
Its not the first time she’s seen him up close in person, but its the first time where something else immediate isn’t also happening.
“Where the paladins?”
“They escaped.” He replies calmly taking off his heavy cloak and settling it on a chair.
She crinkles her nose. “You’re lying.”
He turns. Approaches her and stops near the edge of the bed. “Then why do you even ask Allura?”
Something awful coils in her guts. Treckle bugs along her back bones. Memories speaking her name. The last voices of her time clawing out of blackened empty space; their graves.
“What do you want with me?” she demands.