Day 4: Enchanting - Blog Posts
Lotidge Ship Week: Day 4 - Enchanting
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“Uh? Voltron to Lotor? Voltron to-“
“I heard you the first time Lance.” Lotor grumbled as he took another swing of Nunvil. Stupid Voltron. Stupid Alteans. Stupid alliances with their stupid formal-
“Ok, ok. Just checking Mr. Grumpy Galra. Jeez, you’ve been glaring into space for half a Varga now man.” Well…the Red (or was it Blue now? Blast it, its all too confusing at the moment) Paladin wasn’t entirely wrong. Lotor was, indeed, very grumpy.
But he hadn’t been glaring at nothing.
“Says the one sulking with over Keith.”
“Hey! I’m not sulking!”
“Sure, and I’m not trying to get drunk Lance.”
More specifically, he had been glaring at the little woman that had taken up far too much of his thoughts as of late. A point further proven by the three empty Nunvil glasses next to him. Ah.
The Green Paladin.
The two had developed a sort of…relationship as of late. Touches lingered. Lips occasionally touched. Eyes would soften.
But what were they?
What did she think of him? Just what was keeping them dancing around each other like this? Lotor didn’t know and he hated being left in the dark like this.
Hated being so enamored with her.
His eyes never left her, as she stood there in the distance. Clothed in a pale purple dress that made his blood boil with every sort of blushing red feeling Lotor swore he’d never let himself feel. A sleeveless lilac two-piece with strips of black velvet holing the short shirt and long billowy skirt together. Slivers of warm, freckled skin shining through the gaps. Etherial and enchanting.
Talking with other men.
The sight had his fangs grinding against each other. Seeing her smile up at diplomats. Seeing their eyes linger on her skin. Lotor had half a mind to chew the Altean Princess out for introducing Pidge to these foreign diplomats. Ugh, he didn’t like this.
Not in the least.
He didn’t like the uncertainty. The secret tenderness between them. He wanted the ability to loop his arms around that slim waist without the fear of losing what little standing he had with her. The right to stand by her side without any chance that she might lash out at him.
Pathetic, he knows.
But what was a man to do? The Green Paladin had his heart wrapped around her little fingers. Maybe it started when those gold eyes first cut into him. Or when he saw those blasted tears streaking down her face. But either way, Lotor knew that whatever he felt for this small woman has long gone beyond a simple fascination.
He downed his drink.
“Lotor? Where are you going?” Lance was deftly ignored in favor of Lotor making his way towards the small woman who left him so helpless.
The room only spinning slightly.
Then, in the corner of his eyes, Lotor saw the Black Paladin make way towards Pidge as well. Every nerve in Lotor’s body screaming in protest at the sight.
Damned clone.
It wasn’t that hard to figure out. But Lotor couldn’t bear to tell the rest of Voltron for fear of being booted out. Their trust in that copy of their leader greater than their trust in him. Though complications really started arising when Lotor found that the clone’s eyes never strayed far too long on a certain Paladin.
Which Lotor couldn’t exactly fault the thing for.
Pidge was, at least by Galran standards, an ideal, tempting mate. Young and clever. Her size never impeding her battle prowess. Small and lithe like a knife.
Never failing to excite him.
Beautiful and deadly in such a breathtaking way Lotor want to snatch her up in his arms and snarl at every male that came too close. That being said, as soon as Pidge was within an arm’s reach, Lotor pounced.
Wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Join me for a stroll, won’t you?” He didn’t look at her as he asked, choosing, instead, to glare triumphantly at that clone’s dumbfounded expression. The copy’s expression immediately souring.
Before whisking her away completely.