Don't Ask About My Demons

Meeting Zarkon

Keith lay on the floor of his cell, watching the ceiling in a state of complete and utter boredom. He wondered how much time passed by... or if any time passed at all since the last time he wondered that. At this point, Keith was doubting the existence of time altogether. If the Galra didn't kill him, Keith was certain that the boredom would.

The outer door slide open and Thace stepped inside. Keith rolled into a sitting position then hopped to his feet. He tried to catch Thace's eye but he never looked in Keith's direction.

"Emperor Zarkon orders the prisoner to be brought to him," Thace deadpanned.

Keith jumped to his feet. "What's going on?" He demanded hoarsely.

"You're getting out for little walk, beastie. Gonna talk to the emperor. Now isn't that exciting?" The prison guard sneered. "Now why don't you be a good beastie and let me cuff your hands?" The guard opened the door to his cell.

Keith glared at him and was just about to jump at the guard's throat when his gaze drifted to Thace's face. Thace's brows furrowed in concern as he looked on. He mouthed a simple message consisting of only two words: not yet. Keith couldn't hold back his growl of rage as he was forced to accept the handcuffs before being led out of the cell.

Their footsteps echoed down the long corridor. There was a series of heavy clinking as Keith worked at trying to slip his hands out of the cuffs. A finger tapped Keith on the shoulder. He looked to his right to see Thace shaking his head in disapproval. Keith scowled and ceased his halfhearted escape attempt. For now, anyway.

At long last, they arrived at their destination. The prison guard entered the code to open the sliding door into a magnificent throne room. Instantly, a glorious aroma hit Keith's nose. However, he couldn't be sure in regards to where the smell originated. He tried to ignore the aroma and, instead, looked up at the large figure sitting on the throne straight ahead.

"Ah, we finally meet in person." Zarkon's lips pealed away to reveal gleaming, fanged teeth. "Hello, Paladin." He turned to Thace and the guard and waved them away. "Your work here is done. I'll send for you if I am in need of any assistance."

"Yes, sire." The guard replied with a bow.

"As you wish, my lord." Thace did the same.

Keith watched them leave before the door slid shut. The silence was almost deafening as he waited for Zarkon to do something. Finally, Zarkon rose to his feet. Keith's heart was pounding in his chest but he stood tall, glaring at him with an inner fire as the emperor stepped closer.

"You must be starving." Zarkon's voice was like rock being dragged across stone. The harshness of his speech made it clear that English was not his first language.

Keith was taken aback by this. "What?"

"I have invited you here out of the goodness of my heart."

"That's rich!" Keith spat.

"Is that any way to thank your host? Come with me." He led Keith to the far wall of the throne room where a table sat with a marvelous feast set upon it. Keith couldn't believe his eyes. The smell alone would have been enough to make his mouth water if it wasn't so dry. So this was the source of the succulent aroma that graced his nose when he entered the throne room. Golden plates were piled high with foreign fruits of every color he could imagine. There was a variety of side dishes from pudding to a silver something that smelled of porridge and cinnamon. A large plate of a roasted animal, which appeared to be a six eyed boar, sat at the center of the table. It seemed that the longer Keith looked, the hungrier he got. His stomach growled.