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An unfamiliar face strode through the hangar, walking with all the confidence of a seasoned warrior rather than a young woman of only eighteen years and wearing Galra armor for the first time in her life.

It would take some time for her to grow completely accustomed to it, but it felt right, was a good, solid fit and she found the colors pleasing. It marked her as a member of Lotor's entourage, though Koriand'r was under no illusions that it would prevent the slurs from being muttered under breath when others thought they were out of ear shot.

Ever since the fall of her home world, Tamaran, the princess had grown uncomfortably accustomed to such shows of disrespect. Where once she would have been free to put the offenders in their place, once a prisoner of the Galra she was made to bite her tongue, until she couldn't anymore.

Most of the details of her rampage are fuzzy memories, distorted by anger- by the haze of rage she'd been under at the time. What she could recall was chaos, right up until the moment that she was finally hit and everything went dark.

She'd known then that the next thing she'd see when- IF she woke again would be the inside of a new cell. For weeks, maybe longer than that even she remained in isolation with only the changing of the guard and meals to mark any passage of time at all, until the prince arrived.

There were murmurs of him, but only that throughout the empire, None of them prepared her for actually meeting the man in the flesh, and stranger still, he'd offered her a chance at freedom- at least freedom from a life of imprisonment at the hands of his father.

So yes, Koriand'r was glad- even proud -to take a place among his crew, and it showed as she stepped onto the ship without sparing so much as a second glance to anyone else as she walked past, headed for the bridge to receive her position. It wasn't until she reached her destination and the doors slid open to let her through that Koriand'r's gaze shifted course at all. Her eyes scanned the bridge almost more as if she were checking for possible threats instead of taking in the other four women to who's unit she'd just been assigned. Her eyes did not linger overly long, however, and did not stop to rest until they landed on the prince himself. At that point she took to one knee, lowering her head as she had been taught to do as a child to those deserving of her respect.

Thus far in recent history the prince was the only person to earn THAT particular honor.

"I have arrived as instructed. To what station or position would you have me assigned?"

philancerer

His head was pounding when he finally began to come around, leaving behind what he was sure were fever dreams of not-Earth, pissy bears, and a mysterious fairy-tale tower in the middle of the woods- or... was it? He'd ended up split up from the others after some wild, crazy animal had turned up and attacked them. He couldn't remember much about where the others went, but he definitely remembered the whole "hurtling off of a cliff" part, his jet pack being the only thing that had saved him from breaking his neck in the fall. What, though, after that?

The tower, yeah... but... How did he end up tied to a chair?

He'd half flown, half-climbed up, that much he remembered. His pack was damaged in the fall and he was hoping to get a better vantage point from the top of that structure. He remembered wondering what it was doing out in the middle of no where, a sniper's dream- or nightmare depending on the situation. Good tactical advantage, since it was the only structure of its height aside from the cliff walls. There was only one ground-based exit in or out of the little valley, but no cover overhead for ships that might pass by. It looked dated, too, like... ancient. Like... FAIRY TALE, cobblestone, painted shutters and wooden doors old. No metal in sight, aside from a hook at the only visible entry and exit point. That was where he'd gone in, calling out to see if anyone was living there. He hadn't made it five steps inside when he felt the ringing pain at the back of his head and pitched forward onto the floor. He'd had a brief, hazy glimpse of bare feet and a pink and purple skirt, blonde hair, and big, beautiful green eyes before his world went black.

Now, as Lance began to regain consciousness there were two things he immediately knew to be true:

1: Keith and the others had better not ever learn of this, or he'd never live it down.

And 2: He absolutely did NOT get jumped and beat up by an extremely cute girl in a frilly dress... AGAIN (though in his defense, the first girl had turned out to be an exceptional fighter anyway. Allura was in a league of her own in his eyes). There is no way that could happen to the same guy twice in one lifetime, right? RIGHT? ... Yeah, no, that's definitely what happened, and he could feel the bruise developing on his wounded pride.

"Aw, man...! Seriously? Again?"

The first thing that he did was try to take stock of the situation. For one, where had his captor gone? Maybe if he could speak with her he could charm his way out of it. Hm... no helmet, meaning no way to get in touch with the rest of the team until he found it. And how long had he been out? Minutes? Hours?

Okay, keep calm and take it one step at a time. If his captor was no where in sight, and he couldn't get word to the others that he'd been abducted, then... maybe he could use his bayart, get it to return to great sword form and cut through the ropes.

The... very, very blonde, shimmering, shifting, warm rope.

Slowly, his eyes drifted from that which was wrapped tightly around him, binding him to the chair, expression surprisingly not surprised.

"... This is hair, isn't it?"

princelydeception

A power source that, perhaps, rivaled Quintessence in potency... That was not something to be passed over. While the Paladins of Voltron had carried motivations beyond obtaining this power for themselves - protecting the woman; keeping the Galra forces from spreading their control - Lotor's imagination had been captured by the potential of the woman's... Gift. It was almost a childlike sensation - but there was simply endless possibility if the information the Galra had been operating on was true. He'd have been a fool not to want to harness this power.

The fact that it was attached to a living being was a minor inconvenience, really. Lotor would just have to keep an eye on her and see how things would play out: He still needed the Paladins and the Princess to trust him, anyway. The Kral Zera was fast-approaching, and there was so much to do beyond that, as well; a job started long ago that needed to be finished.

He had to admit, though, that the woman - Rapunzel - was an... Odd one. Every little new thing seemed to excite her, and she was constantly exploring the Castle of Lions for more to discover. That made it a bit difficult to keep track of her, even for Lotor. Her energy was... Irrepressible. He had to actually make small talk with the Paladins to get hints of information on where she might be, as if he asked outright too often, he was bound to stir up suspicion.

Once Lotor had enough reason to believe he knew where Rapunzel was, he headed down to the Lions' hangar. While most of the things that captured Rapunzel's interest were amusingly simple, this one he couldn't fault her for: the Lions were amazing creations. He walked to the center of the hangar, where Rapunzel stood, and cast his gaze around at the machines. There was a small, involuntary twitch in his hand as his eyes passed over the Black Lion, but Lotor was quick to suppress any reacton; any emotion stirred from seeing what had once belonged to the father that was now dead; lay low by Lotor's own attack.

Instead, he put on his most charming demeanor, as he had when he'd first addressed the Galra public - speaking of loyalty and respect over fear. He didn't look directly at Rapunzel, but turned his gaze to the Lion she was looking at, instead.

"Impressive, aren't they?"

princelydeception

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