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Written for the lovely @deathblossomlp ! Happy birthday! <3 I’m really lucky to have gotten to know you, and I hope you enjoy this on your special day!
Here’s the art that goes with it! Courtesy of the awesome @ashcott-art
~*~
The lab was quiet, the druids long since left. The air tasted stale with the remnants of quintessence and singed fur. Lotor wrinkled his nose as he stepped over the body of the guard that had crumpled near the door, his attention on the only occupant left in the room. It was a shame really, Throk had been a good soldier. Even with his exile, he had defended that post against intruders, and that was exactly what Lotor had wanted. He had proven himself worth. Now it was just a matter of if he was still alive to do something with that proof. He approached the table, now turned onto its back since the interrogation was done. The commander lay still strapped and still. Lotor took a moment to wonder if he had been too late. But no, a moment of holding his breath and a tilt of his head, and there he could hear it. Wheezing breath. In. Out.
Throk was still alive.
Lotor made quick work of the straps on chafed wrists and then freed his ankles as well. He reached onto his belt and pulled a flask free. Standing near Throk's head, he uncapped it and a pungent herbal smell hit his senses. He wrinkled his nose and held it to Throk's mouth. Within moments of ingesting even a few drops, Throk started coughing, jerking to sit upright and cover his mouth, muttering hot curses in Galran before he finally caught his breath. He was shaking when the fits ceased, his eyes narrowed until they locked on Lotor.
"You have some nerve showing up here, Prince Lotor," he growled.
Lotor raised a brow. "If not for me, the druids would finish you off when their next interrogation yielded them no more success than this one that almost took you. You should be grateful."
"Grateful? Grateful to have been betrayed and exiled? Only to be betrayed again by your own generals? What in the name of the Ancients do I have to be grateful for?"
"For one, you are still alive. My generals had orders not to kill you if you did your job, and you did. Secondly, when you were used to extract the teludav, Narti left no memories in that pretty little head of yours to fall victim to the witch's questioning. That is more than enough, isn't it?" Lotor stepped back and crossed his arms in case Throk felt ambitious enough to take a swing. He wasn't about to take any chances. "Also, let me add that now, we are even. Certainly you haven't forgotten that you aimed to betray me first. Why don't we let bygones be bygones and start anew?"
Throk hissed. "I don't think I can trust you."
"Oh? You can trust the druids and this crumbling empire more? Very well then, I'll take my leave of you." He headed for the door, lifting his hand to the sensor.
"Wait."
Lotor doesn't give him him the satisfaction of turning around, but he does lower his hand. "Speak quickly, our window of opportunity is closing."
"Was that a test?"
Lotor smiled, revealing his fangs, very pleased indeed. Now, he turned and went back over to Throk. "Yes. And you passed. When you swore honor to me in the Arena that day, was that your vow?"
"I would not have been so angry at my exile if it were not."
"Then I would have you at my side with my generals. I am afraid we were unable to keep the teludav from being destroyed, but it was reported to me that you did everything in your power to protect it not only from the paladins, but from my own soldiers as well. Your life would have been given to protect that outpost, and I need strength like that if we are to truly rebuild our empire. Will you join me?"
Throk looked considering, the doubt clear on his face. Lotor supposed he couldn't blame him, not after the way he'd arranged for things to play out. But it would definitely be a much wiser move to follow him than to stay where he was. The injuries inside and out that likely still ached was proof of that. After failing once, Haggar and her druids wouldn't be any gentler; in fact, they would probably be worse. Throk may not survive.
Finally, Throk's ears flickered back and forth once, and he held out his hand. It was just as he had done in the Arena. This would have to be for keeps. Lotor smiled broadly and grasped his hand, helping him off the table. "My ship awaits us, Commander Throk. It is there that we will negotiate our new pact. I know you wish to see the Galra flourish again, and I will lead you down that path."
Throk breathed in, let it out in a slow exhale. "Vrepit sa, Prince Lotor."
He got to his feet, and when he was steady, Lotor leaned in, brushing his cheek against Throk's, still smiling. "Vrepit sa."
