Someone nearby whimpered. It was a common sound in the slave quarters. She stretched her sore limbs and then quietly stood. Using the stone wall for guidance she moved toward the sound. Annegala, one of her ladies from Pollux, sat against the wall and cried. Romelle sat down beside her and placed her hand on her head. She was just as terrified and scared as the young girls around her, but somehow felt it her duty to act strong in front of them. Little Annegala, hadn’t Romelle arranged a marriage for her with Theryan, one of their greatest knights, before this streak of bad luck? "M' Lady," said the girl wiping her tears away.
Romelle took the girl into her arms and let her cry. One of her other ladies, Veratim, moved in from out of the darkness and sat down on her other side. The presence of her ladies from home was small comfort, but Romelle thanked the Gods above that they had been reunited. Romelle glanced at her briefly, trying to conceal the tears which began to form in her own eyes. Reassuring the girls was useless, no one could promise that they would be out of here anytime soon.
If only my beloved Avoc was still alive! If things had gone as planned, by now they would have been married and she, Queen of Pollux. That would never come to be, now. Still, deep down, she wondered what the reactions of her court would be at marrying her half-brother.
Romelle despised these horrible slave cells, but preferred them to the Prince's bed. Lotor had tossed her in here and out of the comfort of her own room after she had attacked him in his sleep. She had slid from his arms, quietly as not to wake the spent Prince. A nearby lamp would serve her purpose. As she held it over the slumbering prince's head he awoke and hit her with it instead. She had not seen him since. She prayed that he was done with her once and for all, but knew that too good to be true.
A bright light filled the room which caused the young women to gasp and shield their eyes. The door had opened, letting the harsh white light escape inside, and a tall figure strode in. Romelle's heart skipped a beat as she clutched the girl in her arms even tighter. She needed comforting now.
"Touching sight," smirked Lotor.
"What do you want, Lotor," hissed Romelle while her hand groped for anything sharp. Any tool is a weapon, if you hold it right.
"Get up." he said. Romelle noticed that his voice was slurred. He's drunk!
There was no reply as the woman at her other side protectively grasped her. Romelle felt her tremble, through her boldness. She loved her ladies. Her hand rested upon a rock. She shoved it into the girls back, hoping that she too realized the prince was drunken.
"Get up!!" he roared taking a handful of blonde hair and pulling it till it's owner stood tall. Shrieking, she tightened her grip on the stone and threw it at his head. It met its mark and his blood spilled forth over her chest, but he did not let go of her hair, her blow was not strong enough. Unknowing, the girl on the floor lunged for his knees and the Prince fell heavily to the ground with Romelle, screaming, still in his grip.
She beat at the Prince, with her free hand, hoping to free her hair from his hold. Veratim was beating on him too, but he still held fast. A terrible growl escaped his clenched teeth, as the kicked Veratim swiftly in the face. She fell back to the ground with a cry. His hands swung in the air for Romelle but he missed her. Romelle, thinking that there must be blood in his eyes, kicked the prince with all her might. He howled and let go of her locks. She scrambled to her feet and made a mad dash for the door.
But, his hands found her ankle and she fell heavily back to the cold hard ground. He was on his feet now and grasping her wrist. Roughly he pulled her to her feet, wiping at the blood with his free hand. He was indeed bleeding from the rock; his eyes seemed unfocused as he glared at her abhorrently. She wasn't ready to give up just yet. She struck out one more time and slapped him hard across the bloodied side of his face. It did not phase him, though.
He brutally slapped her across the face and she fell to her knees from the blow. The point of his boot met the small of her back and her entire body went numb. Never had she felt that much pain. There was too much pain to even scream. She limply fell to the cell floor, still aware of her arm twisting in its socket from his tight grip. Dots of light, pulsating, covered her view.
"Anyone else!!" roared the Dark Prince.
Romelle could hear terrified crying from around the room. She had not wanted her ladies to see her beaten like this. Lotor bent down and picked her up off the floor and carried her into the bright light. Someone shreiked her name from within the cell.
Romelle awoke sometime later. She was lying on a soft bed, the still bloodied Prince clung to her like a child to his mother. His eyes were closed and the blood had hardened on his handsome face. Romelle could see that he trembled in his sleep, if it was sleep, he very well could have passed out. She reeled from the strong smell of drugs that lingered on the Prince. It made her nauseous. Darkness threatened to swallow her again, as she tried to move her limbs. She couldn’t even feel her body! Great Mother! Am I lame! There would truely be no escaping then.
Her vision was gone and darkness surrounded her. In her troubled sleep, she saw her self, or was it the young Princess of Arus, sitting upon a large throne. Pots of fire surrounded her on each side, they were the only light in the room. A beam of moonlight seemed to shine down upon her like a spot light. Her eyes were closed and face solem. There was much sorrw there, but it was far beyond that of tears.
She wore a long silver robe, which seemed to be made from the moon itself, and a large double crown rested upon her head. It was made of a strange blueish silver metal which Romelle had never seen before; amethist s and clear stones decorated it. The long robe was pulled over one shoulder and long blonde hair framed the face.
A trembling hand reached for a necklace which hung low on her breast. At first it seemed that she caressed it lovingly, but with a sudden rage she tore it from her body and tossed it in to a great bowl of fire. Her eyes finally opened and she looked to the vault of heaven. Her face was damp below her eyes. She seemed to be asking the night sky “Why me?”
Lotor stirred. His restless sleep gave him no comfort. He pulled the golden creature in his arms closer to him. She came! A soft moan escaped her lips as he held her tight. He knew she would come to him. She could not refuse him for ever. She just needed time. He tried as he might to remember how she had gotten here, but thought in the end that it did not matter.
His eyes were having a hard time focusing and his head hurt from within and without. He buried his face in his loves chest, kissing the soft skin of her neck. She tasted horrible. He looked back up at her face. A dark bruise covered her right jaw and she was incredibly dirty. Her lips didn't seem as full either. But that was probably because of the blood that fell from them.
In horror he forced his eyes to focus a bit more. Her face was indeed bruised, dirty, and a cut on her lip bled. He pushed himself to a sitting position. The room spun and his body threatened to pass out again, but he pressed the feeling away. He stood and stumbled toward the bath room. Hetook a cloth a wetted it without so much as a look at himself. He then staggered back in to the bed chamber and once more laid down beside the sleeping Princess.
Gently he wiped at her face. The blood on her swollen lip disappeared as did the film of dirt which hid her porcelain skin. Lovingly he stroked her pale skin thinking she had to be the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. He wished she would open her eyes so he could see the blue light which kept him going.
His eyes wandered down to the disgustingly dirty dress she wore. It nearly revolted him. It smelled like the dung in the cattle yards. In the name of the Gods, where had she come from?
Gently, he rolled a top of her. He kept his density on his elbows in order not to burden her with his weight. She moaned and lifted her chin, but still did not awake. He placed his lips on hers. Gently he kissed her, but she still did not stir. He kissed her again caressing her bruised jaw. She whimpered. He kissed her ear. Her neck. He knew she was near waking, her breath became deeper.
A wave of dizziness over came him and he laid his head upon her breast. He could hear her heart beat. He smiled as he drifted off once more.
Romelle's eyes fluttered open. She felt a heavy weight upon her and knew it to be the wretched Prince. She could feel the mark of his lips pressed against hers. Sharp stabs of pain coursed through her lower body. She was able to now move her arms, though it was very painful. Tears ran from her eyes as she unsuccessfully tried to push the heavy Prince from her. There was no strength in her and she wasn't even sure she could move her legs.
The Prince stirred. He moved his head to face the other direction. "Lotor..." she cried softly. He seemed to lift his head for its weight was not upon her breast.
"Yes, my love," he whispered. She tried to push at him once more, but he only lifted his head to her and kissed her . "NO!" she cried in a rage. He pressed him self up to look down on her. He still seemed drunk she thought. His features contorted and he grimaced in rage.
"You!" he cried stumbling to his feet. It wasn't Allura after all, it was only Romelle.
She trembled in fear of him. Many times he went raving when he woke to find her in his arms instead of Allura. He stumbled to his feet, nearly falling over, grasping a table for balance.
"Get up!" he yelled. She didn't, or couldn't, move. "Get up!"
"Rot in the Earthlngs hell!," she screamed as she rolled over onto her stomach. She tried her best to make her self sit , but couldn't. The pain in her back shot down through her legs, paralyzing them. He took her from under the arms and pulled her off the bed himself.
"Your filthy!" he exclaimed as she screamed. "You smell like a damned slave girl!" He roughly pulled her into the bath room, ripped off the ugly brown dress of the servants, and threw her into the large pool of a bath. She could not sit up her self and her head sank under. Lotor's hands were on her immediately and he pulled her head to air. She choked and spit from the inhaled water. "If you wanted to be treated like a queen you must first look like one!" he hissed. Through her tears Romelle decided that the Prince had lost his mind.
He placed her head on the rim of the small pool and left her alone. She could hear him cursing himself in the other room. She cried a loud. She knew she was seriously hurt for she could not move her legs at all. There was feeling in them at least - stabbing pain - which ironically gave her some comfort.
Soon, Prince Lotor returned. Gently this time, he lifted her from the water and laid her, dripping wet, on a long towel. Immediately, there was a woman in the room with her. The woman frantically - for she was no doubt terrified of the besotted prince - dried her body. The strange woman rubbed oils into Romelle’s arms and legs and tried as best she could to brush out her wet hair. Romelle could feel the trembling hands working on her in haste. Soon, the room darkened and Romelle slipped into unconsciousness.
It was some time later when she fully awoke. No sooner had her eyes opened then Lotor had taken her from the bed. Her head spun and she wanted to cry once more. How often had she cursed her self that she showed too much weakness in front of this heathen? A beautiful white dress hung from the wall at one end of the room.
Lotor released his hold on Romelle and she slid down his body to the floor. She sat there, in the yellow robe someone had placed on her, and looked at the dress Lotor had in his arms now. It was made of a beautiful silken material that Romelle thought she had never seen before. A headdress hung with it. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and many exotic stones decorated it lavishly. A wedding dress befitting a queen.
"Put it on," snarled Lotor. Romelle noticed that he had not yet cleaned himself , for he was still stained with blood on his temple. There were scratches across his chest and she wondered if she had done that, too. "Put - it - on!!"
"Nooo!" she screamed, realizing what the dress was for, but not understanding his plan.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and lifted her slightly as he bent down on one knee. "You live to serve me. Don't you ever forget that!" He dropped her back to the floor and took a long green jewel from around the neck of the dress. She feared that he would strike her with it, for he was obviously still in a rage. She sat there bravely waiting for the blow, but he only threw the stone at her and it broke on the floor before her hands.
A green mist broke from it and traveled up Romelle's body. It felt like a thousand tiny fingers caressing her. The mist entered her nose and mouth and lifted her right off the ground. Her head fell back and for one moment she forgot where she was or what was happening to her, for her entire being relaxed and gave in to the mysterious mist. She knew her body to be naked in front of the prince, somehow her clothes had been takenfrom her, but matter it did not. Her skin tingled with pleasure.
When she opened her eyes she was once more sitting on the floor, but now she was wearing the beautiful white wedding dress. She looked about herself in a panic, knowing she was totally helpless to the Prince who looked upon her with a horrible face full of desire. "I'll never marry you! I'll die first!" she shrieked.
"Excellent! I'll see that takes place! I only need you for one moment to convince your cousin--"
"She'll never love you either! Your love is tainted! Even if she came to you for the sake of her people you'll kill her without even trying! No one like you deserves her love!"
"You think," he yelled standing high above her, "that I am no good for her. That I might pollute her, desecrate her...." Suddenly he grabbed her by the hair . He roughly pulled her from the room as she howled in pain, holding on to his arms as not for him to take all of her hair without her.
By the time they were out into the hall way he had her by one arm. "How dare you!" he was yelling at her. "You should realize how delicious is a tainted woman! Look how you bloom!"
"Lotor!" came a cry from the end of the hall. Romelle was screaming "Let go of me!" as Lotor stood tall and turned to the frightened girl at the end of the corridor. The little Princess was deathly pale, her hands was on her mouth and tears were forming in her eyes. He had forgotten that she was in the castle instead of on his ship. She always came to greet him when he returned from any journey. He looked down at the beaten Princess screaming in his hands and wondered what the young girl must be thinking of him right now. This was not something he had ever wanted her to see. Hopefully, she realised that this was not Allura he held bleeding in his hands. He knew his younger sister worshiped her as much as he did himself.
"Cimerone, go back to your room, now! Don't leave it until I come and get you! Do you understand?"
She nodded and in horror turned and fled from the hall. Lotor could hear her sobs echoing through the vestibule. "Look what you've done!" he yelled back down to Romelle. "You've disgraced me in front of my sister!"
He took the screaming Princess Romelle and dragged her through the castle by her hair and arm, he paid no heed to his father court who watched as he manhandeled this woman.. She must have passed out at one point because she ceased to resist or scream any longer. At that point he gathered her into his arms and brought her into the dark of the Calydian night.
Romelle opened her eyes when she felt drops of water beat down on her. The Prince was caring her, to where she did not know, but she did know they were out of the castle.... and she would probably die for her impertinence.
After the long rough walk through the rain Lotor finally stopped and dropped the Princess of Pollux to the muddy ground. He knelt down beside her and yelled into her unconscious face. Her eyes fluttered open and she winced at the pelting rain on her bruises. He was yelling but she could not make out what he was saying to her. It was another tongue. A curse! He curses me!
He pushed her along the ground and then held her head up. "Open your eyes! Open your damned eyes!" he yelled hitting her in the back causing more pain. She regretfully opened her eyes and saw that he held her over a huge pit, her head leaned over the edge and looked down far into the nothingness. She had wanted to die only moments before, but now that he threatened her with a falling, potentially painful death she cried out and clung to him.
"You deserve this! My Pit of Skulls!"
"No!" she screamed still holding tight to his arms that held her head suspended over the pit. All her bravery of the past was gone in one instant.
"Then marry me now!"
"NO!" she yelled once more. Bravely, gathering her strength she struck out with one of her free hands and they fell back to the muddy earth. Not knowing what she did, Romelle waved her arms and struggled with the Prince once more. He moaned in pain once, just before she felt her self fall. In one last moment of fear she grabbed anything she could. It turned out to be a handful of hair. She hung down the side of the pit, suspended by a handful of braids. She looked down but couldn't see how far her fall would be. Her other hand reached for anything. She cried out in fear. The Prince clutched her arm and beat at her with the other. She released a few of the small braids, buther weight was to much. Lotor felt hair pull from his head.
Romelle began to fall. Panic seized her. So this was it. It wasn't like everyone said it would be. Her life didn't flash before her eyes, nor did she think of all the horrible things that had happened to her. She didn't even cry out. She thought off all the people she had loved in her life. She told each one of them in her mind how much she loved them. She imagined her mother, the one she never knew. She pictured her like Allura had described her.... but, the worst was waiting for the bottom. Where was it? Knowing that you were about to die had to be the worst part of dying.
Then there was mud. Tons of it. It engulfed her body, her moth, her nose... and her body felt like it had broken into a thousand pieces..
Hours later, the Prince of Calidyan, a woke from a troubled sleep.. The rain still beat hard on his back. He had long ago taken off his lengthy coat. He lay now, face down in the mud. Something inside him wanted him to throw himself over the edge. He realized that never in his life had he felt more alone than now. He should die, too. He trembled as sudden grief over took him. It filled his stomach with horrible weight. He grasped a handful of mud and let it slowly dip back to the wet earth.
Romelle... he had thrown her over the edge of the pit in which he slumbered. She was now dead, no doubt. Alllura. He had been with her today, but what had happened exactly? In his mind broken images flashed before him. She was clinging to the wall, blood driping from a horrible cut on her brow. Broken glass. And there was a knife....surely he didn’t hold a knife to her. He could never do that. Yet, a horrible picture of her face wide eyed and horror stricken haunted him.
He rolled onto his back and longed to see the stars in the sky. He ached to just see the distant planet he had left his heart on, but the clouds hid it from view. For a moment his thought drifted to his beautiful mother. He would give everything he had just to be able to feel the comfort of her arms at this moment.