Charming

prince lotor x reader

Civilians meandered about, glancing at stalls, muttering quietly to one another or just themselves, soft chatter filling the atmosphere. The air was fresh and crisp, the air conditioning creating am unnoticeable, dull hum that was disregarded by all. Fluorescent lights illuminated the mall, intoxicating smells wafting in the air, most definitely from the cafeteria on the other side of the mall.

In her booth, (Y/N) was able to get a clear view of the entrance of the mall, while still being hidden enough so the booth wasn't immediately noticed; you could only see your stall if you looked. Your stall was near the restrooms as well, and you were situated so you could see the food court that saw across the way.

And yet, despite your ideal placement, you never got much activity. Perhaps it was because your employer's business of buying and selling mechanical parts for ships, guns, or machines and the like weren't that popular among modern needs, or maybe it was because your booth simply wasn't as noticeable as you thought.

Or the people here were just discriminatory. After all, being a Brywret, someone from the planet Brywrem, wasn't as desirable as most thought it would be. Brywrets such as yourself often meant you were a goddess among others, simply by looking so beautiful that other species were envious of elfish appearance, such as your pointy ears and dainty, curvy figures. Perhaps you didn't get much activity because you were simply often disregarded by others.

Not to say that you didn't get business; you absolutely did. You often got about ten customers a day, but today seemed painfully slow. The only patron you received so far was an old Olkari man who was looking for thermal adapter for his small spaceship cruiser, for he was on vacation, as he said.

With the lack of customers, it was safe for you to pull out your mobile device and search the inter-galactic network, or internet as some called it. Feeling too lazy to read, you switched over to some news feed that elucidated on how Prince Lotor, crown prince of the Galra empire and son of Zarkon, had just been appointed to chief adviser over the Galran empire in the Ahx sector of the Xrualt galaxy.

Of course this would be on the news feed. After all, the internet, social media, television and even currency were monitored by the Galra empire. You were pretty sure the head mall cop here in the swap moon was Galran too. You were positively tired of Galran propaganda.

Placing your mobile device on the counter, you rested your chin along the surface and watched the news lazily, ignoring your surroundings. The female Galran reporter sat at a desk as pictures flashed behind her, photos of the ceremony that crowned Prince Lotor as the overseer of the Ahx sector.

You tuned your surroundings as you watched the screen, eyes trailing and tracking every detail. What especially caught your attention was not the crowds, not the reporter, not even the grand scenery. It was Prince Lotor himself. The public doesn't see him that much, only on rare news castings and maybe if you're planet was being conquered, so you wanted to remember his current appearance.

You only remember seeing him once. When you were about twelve hundred years old, for you were seventeen hundred now, you were in the fields, harvesting crops for that night's dinner, when they arrived. You remember your hands delicately plucking a grainy stalk from the earth when a loud, jarring explosion shook your city, Wehm. Suddenly, menacing ships appeared overhead in the yellow sky, more explosions sounding in the air.

You instantly dropped your basket and raced back to your house, where already Galran soldiers had rounded up your family and marched them to the square of your town. One by one, families were guided into the square, where you were all informed of Zarkon's forces overtaking your small planet. Your capital, Grelhn, had already been overtaken, and your troops slain.