Disclaimer: Voltron and all related characters (Lotor, Haggar, etc.) are property of WEP. No profit was made from their use.
“Such an ugly outfit,” mumbled the clone of Prince Lotor as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Haggar had placed him in small, but adequate living quarters to hide him from King Zarkon until it was time to depart for Arus. She also provided the clone with one of Lotor’s uniforms, a helmet, and a laser sword. It was essential he that looked just like the real prince to the last detail if they wanted to fool Zarkon into believing it truly was his son who defeated Keith in a duel.
Being a perfect clone of Lotor in every way, his ego did not like the idea that someone else was going to get all the glory for his victory. But he was aware of how Lotor and Haggar viewed him; he was not stupid. To them, he was nothing more than a reflection given life, just a copy to be used and then disposed of once he served his purpose.
“No, I am much more,” the clone said to himself firmly. Then what exactly was he if he was not copy or a unique person? The clone gazed at his reflection intently as he pondered the nature of his existence.
Instead of being a duplicate of Prince Lotor, the clone considered himself an improvement on an already good design. No, thought the clone, he was the original removed of its flaws such as fear, and perfected. His lips quirked into a smug smirk. Yes, he liked that thought. Wasn’t that why he was created in the first place and made twice as strong as the original Lotor? Because the other was almost, but not quite good enough to defeat Voltron?
Though he had only been alive for a few hours, the clone’s ego had already swelled large enough to dwarf Lotor’s. His mind continued riding along that train of thought, becoming more and more convinced of his own godlike nature with each passing moment. Soon the sinful vanity that he had inherited from Lotor turned into a twisted self-infatuation. Princess Allura, who Lotor was so obsessed with, suddenly did not matter. Such self-centeredness did not leave room in the clone’s heart for anyone else. She simply could not come close to matching his own grace and splendor
“Are you finally finished? Everything is ready for us to get the mission underway and I don’t have all day to wait around,” snapped a voice the clone instantly recognized as his own. He was so entranced by himself that he did not hear the true Prince Lotor enter the room. Reluctantly the clone turned away from the mirror to face his living double.
Looking upon his inferior self, Lotor’s clone had expected to feel a sense of superiority over the Prince. Instead the clone saw his own glory reflected back at him in a living, breathing form. Flawed, yes, but he was still the closest thing in the universe that came close to matching his own perfection. He had to possess it. Before Lotor could react, the clone swiftly grabbed him by both wrist and pulled him close.
“What are you doing?!” Lotor demand as he struggled furiously, and fruitlessly, against the much more powerful clone. “I command you to unhand me! Remember that you are disposable; Haggar can just make another one of you.”
The clone only chuckled in response. Once the clone was through with him, the prince would never even dream of raising a hand against him.
“I find it funny that you case after Princess Allura so obsessively, claiming that you truly love her. She’s beautiful, yes, but you’re too selfish to fully care for anyone other than yourself. Admit it. The only thing you truly love is yourself,” said clone as he leered at Lotor, whose face darkened at those words.
“How dare you question my love for Allura! As myself, you should know that I am not merely obsessed with her like everyone thinks I am.”
“Of course I do. I know your feelings better than anyone.”
“Then why do you insist that I don’t really care for her?”
Reaching back into Lotor’s memories, the clone did sense that Lotor did feel a spark of true compassion for Allura. The clone frowned; that would not do, especially not when it got in the way of getting what he wanted. What the clone desired more than anything was himself and he would have himself.
Without warning, clone then leaned in and kissed the prince. Completely paralyzed from the shock, Lotor ceased his struggling. With slick, fluid motions, the clone released Lotor’s wrists and wrapped his arms around the other’s waist.
“How can you deny yourself?” the clone asked upon breaking the kiss. Lotor stared at his double with a mixture of disgust and horror etched on his face.
“Because it’s disgusting! How you be attracted to yourself on that level?!” spat Lotor. “If you are truly me, wouldn’t your reaction to this be like mine?”
The clone cocked his head to one side; his inferior self did have a point. There had to be some kind of explanation.
“I suppose,” said the clone slowly, “it’s because I am incapable of loving anyone other than myself. Unlike you, being as flawed as you are, I am perfect. How can I not love myself? Therefore, there is no one else besides myself who comes even close to deserving me.”
The clone pulled Lotor up against his body. Nothing would stop him from obtaining the living, breathing version of his reflection that had charmed him minutes ago. If Lotor did not like it, too bad for him. No one denied him, not even himself.
“You are going to submit to me. After all, I am your own will,” the clone purred into Lotor’s ear. “Now stop with this impertinence, fighting yourself is one of the most pointless things you can do.”
Lotor visibly shuddered as his clone began to gently kiss him along his jaw line.
“Don’t touch me,” he hissed.
That was it; the clone had lost what little patience he had. If he couldn’t seduce his other, he would take him by force.
“I’m beginning to think that I am a bit too stubborn for my own good,” the clone glowered. “You are me and you will submit to me!”
Using his superior strength to dominate Lotor, the clone pulled the prince into a fierce kiss. He would force Lotor to see the truth about himself, reveal to him exactly how narcissistic he was. Then surely the prince would stop the silly act that he placed some naive little princess higher than himself. As far as the clone was concerned, Lotor wanted what the clone offered him but was just too afraid of his own darkness. He would teach him to embrace it.
Just then his inevitable victory was cut short by a sharp knock at the door.
“Sire,” came Haggar’s voice from the other side. “Forgive my impatience, but we must get going, it is time to leave for Arus.” The witch then paused as if awaiting a reply. “Is there something wrong with the clone, my Prince?”
Taking advantage of the distraction, Lotor wormed out of the clone’s embrace and ran for the door. He was about to exit the room when he flashed his clone a look of pure hatred.
The clone knew exactly what that look meant for him. It meant that Lotor clearly could not accept the part of himself the clone had shown him. As soon as he defeated Keith, he would be destroyed. So be it. If Lotor was going to deny him, then he would deny Lotor victory.