The Other Approach

After countless failures to kidnap, capture or otherwise marry Allura, Lotor turns an exasperated and desperate ear to Haggar. The witch suggests an unusual approach to winning the princess over: woo her. Out of ideas, Lotor agrees and when his father gravely injures the princess in combat, he gets his chance to try.

Chapter 1

Allura's body ached. An exhale left her lips as her eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment, but she quickly recognized she wasn't inside her lion's cockpit anymore. With a gasp of alarm she started to sit up, only to be met with a splitting pain to her left side.

"Oh no, you mustn't," a voice over her left shoulder said. Allura's head snapped over to look at a kind young woman sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. Her skin was light and her hair was dark with beautiful emerald green eyes. "You must rest," she urged the princess.

Allura relaxed a little, glancing around her surroundings.

"Where am I?"

"I pulled you from your lion when our little ship found it crashed on an asteroid. You were badly injured. I've wrapped your wounds but you must rest for at least a little longer," the woman said, touching the place where Allura's ribs were bandaged.

"Thank you," the princess replied earnestly. She appeared to be lying in a captain's quarters for a merchant vessel. The bed was large and comfortable, but not particularly lavish. Glass windows revealed the stars outside as the ship moved gently through space.

She lifted the covers to look down at herself, gasping at the sight of her bandaged torso. Her flight suit was stained red from her chest to her hips.

"Oh my!"

"Yes, you were injured pretty badly in combat. When we saw your lion, we send a distress call to the castle to alert your team, but we were worried you wouldn't make it before they got to you, so we picked you up. We're on an automatic route to a trade center, but after that we can drop you by Arus. I believe your team has already collected your lion," the merchant woman explained.

"Thank goodness," Allura sighed. "And thank you for your kindness. I remember being struck by something and having my controls knocked out, but I don't remember much else."

"Here, child," she said, offering a pill and a glass of water to the weakened princess. "This will help with the pain. Please try not to strain yourself. Your wound only just closed. It could reopen easily," she explained as Allura sat up very carefully to take the medicine.

"Thank you," Allura murmured one last time, grateful for the generosity the traveling tradesmen had shown her. She relaxed into the pillows with a sigh, the exhaustion from the vicious battle against Zarkon finally catching up with her.

"Rest," the woman patted her hand and rose to her feet, walking out of the room and turning out the lights as the princess fell back asleep.

"Keith!" Allura's cry of alarm turned into a scream as her lion was shocked with an artillery blast. An explosion sounded over her shoulder. Pushing off the ground, she flew back into combat. Zarkon was trying a new approach - instead of one super robeast, he had unleashed five smaller ones on the team.

Keith had advised to stay in lion formation to better handle multiple targets. The battle had been going on for hours, but slowly the Voltron force was gaining the upper hand. The Drule king had lured them into empty space and pulled them out of reach of the castle's defense systems, yielding no cover fire for the Force.

"My altimeter is down, Keith. I won't have my bearings," Allura said as she watched her controls spark and fizzle in front of her. "Everything else seems fine - proton darts!"

Blue Lion unleashed a flurry of missiles at one of the miniature beasts. As it howled and turned to face her, Allura saw the large cannon it was holding.

"Princess!"

The screen in front of her exploded as the large blast struck her lion head on. She could feel the machine spinning around her before crashing into the ground, launching her out of her seat. With no screen and no electronic bearings, she had no idea where in space relative to the fight she had landed.

Allura's fear hitched. She was essentially blind.

She scrambled to the dash as Keith cut in again.

"Princess, do you copy? Say something!"

"I'm here, Keith! I'm... totally down though. My on-board navs are shot and my visuals have been disabled. How is the fight going?"

"We're turning it around. Lance got the one that shot you, and now it's four on four. You take it easy, we'll get you when we can," Keith finished, cutting off. Allura screamed and grabbed onto her chair for support as another blast rocked her lion. An explosion in the center of her dash went off, knocking her backward onto the ground.

She slumped against the wall of her lion, feeling her breathing slow. Warm. Something felt warm.

Glancing down, she saw a piece of metal from her control panel sticking out of her abdomen.

"...That's not supposed to be there," she murmured, more to herself than anything. With a dazed curiosity, she grasped the shard slick with blood and tugged on it. The pain that echoed through her body sent her mind reeling.

With very little strength to support her consciousness, the pain pushed her over the edge. This whole fight had been strange. Five small robeasts instead of one large one... Zarkon attacking. It was like Haggar wasn't around to enlarge the robeasts. Allura realized as a very faint after thought that she hadn't seen Lotor there, either...

Allura woke up with a gasp, her eyes snapping open. The room was dark around her, the glow from the starlight outside the only source of ambient light. Keeping her body perfectly still, she turned her head to study her surroundings.

Right, that nice merchant woman, Allura reminded herself. With utmost care, she eased herself into a sitting position, grunting as pain shot through her left side. She paused once upright to catch her breath.

"You need to take it easy."

Allura's head whipped around in the direction of the low voice, her eyes struggling to make out a figure in the dim lighting.

"That voice," she exclaimed. Adrenaline won out over the pain in her side as her panic raged. Before she could launch herself off the bed, Allura felt arms close around her body and push her back down into the mattress. A scream caught in her throat as she looked up into the golden eyes of Prince Lotor himself, pinning her to the bed, his features shrouded by starlight.

"Dammit, you're going to - ENOUGH," he growled in frustration, physically holding her arms to her sides and using some of his weight in his hips to keep her from kicking. "Your injuries are far too fresh to keep moving like that," he hissed at her softly.

Allura's wild eyes shot past him and locked on the merchant woman as she stepped into the room. In a moment, all hope was shattered as she watched the kindly lady morph into the witch Haggar. Tears sprang into the corners of her eyes as she closed them and turned her head away, refusing to cry with Lotor so close to her.

She wasn't safe. She wasn't safe at all.

"Sire," Haggar said, the soothing lilt of the humanoid voice all gone. "Her pulse is much too high, her body is too fragile still."

Allura locked her jaw and stared out the window to her side, refusing to make eye contact with either of the Drules that had deceived her. She couldn't help the tears running down her cheeks or the erratic rhythm of her heart, but she was proud that she did not sob.

Lotor cursed.

"Allura, I'm going to back away from you, but you need to stay still. If that wound reopens, we may not be able to get it healed again," he explained.

Allura blinked. Cautiously, she turned her head to look up at the man physically pinning her down. His face was chiseled and impassive, lacking the usual victorious smirk. His eyes were fixated on her side where fresh red was seeping through the bandages. He almost looked... concerned.

"O..okay," she whispered, cursing herself internally for stammering instead of being stronger.

Slowly, he eased off her hips with his weight and then released her wrists. Lotor was true to his word for once; he backed away into the corner he had come from, his eyes never leaving the wound in her side.

Allura, in turn, kept her end of the bargain and stayed where she was in the bed. The only movement she made was to draw her hands into her chest, her eyes looking between them.

A minute of silence ticked by before anyone spoke. Haggar was the first to break it. She started to move toward Allura but the fear that lit up the princess's eyes paused the witch after one step.

"The disguise was merely to help you stay calm. Had you reacted that way when you first awoke... it would have been much worse," she tried to explain.

Allura just sighed and turned her head to the side again in defeat.

"You're beasts," she said softly.

"Beasts? I saved you!" Lotor peeled off the wall he was leaning against to approach but Haggar signaled him back.

"From your own robeasts!" Allura looked back over at him, her anger fresh.

"Those were my father's, Allura. I had nothing to do with those, and neither did Haggar," he explained. His jaw ticked a little, his patience virtually nonexistent.

"Sire, be at ease. She has no reason to understand the difference," Haggar soothed the prince. Lotor desperately wanted Allura at his side and he had committed himself to only having her willingly. He wanted the fire and spirit of the girl, not a broken slave. In an effort to help, Haggar had suggested a more unusual approach than what the prince had been used to, but if he didn't keep his temper in check it would never work.

"Allura," Haggar began, turning her attention to the wounded princess. "In Castle Doom, Lotor and Zarkon are often at odds with each other, competing. Very rarely do they work in tandem, and when they do it is even more unsuccessful than usual..."

"Witch!" Lotor snapped at Haggar, irritated. Haggar just cackled to herself before continuing to explain.

"Zarkon had Lotor imprisoned in the dungeon-"

"Don't tell her that!"

"-And while I was helping him escape, Zarkon launched this fleet. Lotor was, of course concerned for you-"

"Haggar, that's enough!" Lotor peeled off the wall and strode across the room. Allura jumped slightly at the movement, but his gaze was focused on the witch who was having entirely too much fun gossiping about him to the princess.

"-So we came-" Lotor caught Haggar by the shoulders and shoved her into the hallway. He paused to pin Allura with his gaze.

"You are not a prisoner here. You have run of the ship. I would suggest you move slowly and carefully at least for a while longer. There's a private bath over there, there's even a lock from the inside," he added. "There are fresh clothes in the dresser if you so like," he said. Allura could hear Haggar cackling - or was she giggling? - from the hallway as Lotor turned and left, continuing to push her away.

The automatic door whizzed shut and left Allura laying in stunned silence.

"Haggar, explain yourself," Lotor threatened as the old woman wandered into the control room. The single Drule pilot nodded to his commander and the witch. The ship was locked on an autopilot course, but the pilot was still able to slow, stop and speed up the ship's course as well as monitor that it was on track.

"I was simply suggesting that the more she understands, the less fear she will have. To have what you desire, fear will be your enemy," she elaborated. "She fears Zarkon, but she doesn't fear you, specifically. She fears your link to him and the throne. She has never had the chance to know anything about you except that you, too, like your father, wish to siege her planet."

"But I just want her," he protested. "I don't even care about the others on her planet, I don't need them as slaves, I have plenty of others. It was a great idea at first, but I don't actually care about them."

"Ah, but she doesn't know that, does she? All she knows is Zarkon wishes to enslave her planet and he attempts to do so by attacking it. Zarkon's son also attacks her planet. What is the only conclusion she would have?"

"I see your point, witch," he admitted.

"Your first goal is to keep her calm around you, eliminate the fear. She won't hear a word you say when her mind is blinded by panic. The best way is to distance yourself from her fear - how different from Zarkon can you be?"

"Mhmm," he mused. "I'm worried - what if she reinjures herself?" He glanced to the door leading out of the control room.

"Patience, my prince."

"I'm going to go check on her," he announced.

"Soft words, soft steps," she reminded him as he left the control room.

Allura fidgeted. Of all the things she did for herself, this was the one that was giving her trouble. Fresh from a hot bath, Allura had taken up his invitation to a fresh outfit and was wearing baggy black pants. Whomever this ship had been stocked for initially was definitely larger than she was, but she was grateful for pants that weren't coated in her own blood.

She had even located a wrap-around bra that was strapless and could be tied around her back, but that was as far as she had gotten. She stood glaring at the mirror in front of her, neither able to re-wrap her wound with the fresh gauze that had been laid out for her nor pull the fitted shirt on. Both involved motions that strained the wound that seemed to, for now at least, have stopped bleeding.

"Allura?" A knock sounded on the outside of the automatic door.

"Go away," she answered, her breath catching. She froze.

"I'm coming in," he announced as the door whished open.

"Lotor!" Allura gasped, her skin turning bright red as she clasped the shirt to her chest. He paused to take in the look of her, hair slick and wet down her back, mostly dressed... but despite the raging beauty before him that he saw everywhere he went, his eyes fixated on her injuries.

"Don't!" She screamed as he marched toward her with determination. She backed away into a corner, looking for something to stop him with. He was upon her in seconds, wordlessly and meticulously working. He plucked the shirt from her hands and set it aside, leaving her covering her half-clad chest with her hands.

"Be still," he admonished her, taking the roll of gauze from the dresser top. Under any other circumstance on any other day, it would have been a war with his body to not lay her down and touch her all over. All instincts of conquest had faded to concern with the still life-threatening battle wound she bore.

With expert skill and medical detachment, he wound the gauze around her ribs, tearing the end deftly to tuck in. He moved quickly, before his brain switched back into primal mode, and picked up the black tank top. He helped tug it over her head and position the arm hole so that she wouldn't have to raise it over her head - the action that threatened the stability of her injury. Once the shirt was on, he backed away quickly. The motion was entirely for her benefit, but it was twofold; he didn't want her to become alarmed with his presence and secondly he was worried if he lingered he would lose control of himself.

She stood there, dwarfed by pants clearly tailored for a male and wrapped in a better-fitting tank, looking wholly confused.

"...thank you," she said after recovering from her surprise. The action he had taken had been so counter to what she had come to expect from the Prince that it left her stunned.

Step one, he reminded himself.

"What," she started to ask a question and then paused, withdrawing back in on herself. She turned to the dresser instead and withdrew a pair of socks. Never turning her back to him completely, Allura made her way over to the bed and eased herself down onto the side of it gently, holding her ribs as she did so. Crossing one leg over the other, she began tugging on the socks.

"How long until we get to Castle Doom?" Her voice was flat and lifeless and she didn't look to him as she spoke.

"We aren't headed there," he answered, watching as she stilled halfway through getting the second sock on. Wordlessly she took up the task again and finished, uncrossing her legs as she sat up.

"Where are we going then?" Allura pinned him with a look.

"You don't believe me," he answered instead, reading the hostility and wariness on her face. She shook her head once.

"I don't," she answered truthfully. She pushed off the bed slowly, her eyes snapping to look at him as his body stepped in her direction when her legs buckled slightly. She held herself and walked to the full length mirror in the corner to look at herself. She turned sideways then faced the mirror again and held out the extra fabric of the pants to the side.

"I wonder who could wear both these articles of clothing," she murmured softly, surprised by the enormous size of the pants and the shirt that fit her. She shook her head once and looked to her pink pilot boots left neatly by the bed. Catching sight of the blood splatter on the side, she shivered slightly and walked to the small closet to see what sort of footwear was available.

"What..." She knelt gingerly since bending was too much of a strain and lifted up a strange round shoe.

Lotor blinked at the article in her palm. "Those... That's for a hoof," he commented flatly, about as surprised as Allura was. She turned back to the mirror and stretched out the extra fabric of the pants.

"I guess that answers my question," she said before returning the shoe to the closet. Tossing another grimace at her bloody boots, she shrugged. "Socks are fine." Allura moved toward the door and paused to look at Lotor in the corner. He nodded to her once to indicate it was unlocked and he wasn't intending to stop her from leaving the cabin. Warily, she palmed the door open and stepped into the hallway.

Lotor's fist clenched as he fought the urge to follow her, to touch her, to kiss her. He forced himself to stay leaning against the wall in the room, watching as Allura threw one more look over her shoulder in his direction as the door closed. He tilted his head back and groaned. Having her so close but keeping distance between them was agony. He wondered if the witch was senile; how could she ever let her guard down for him?