Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

War was everything for this country. For most of his life that was all he knew. He rose through the ranks, from a simple foot soldier to a general, and then rose even higher than that. He attended war council meetings with the emperor and his sons.

The war that took up most of his life was finally over. And he wanted no part of the military.

Shiro leveled his gaze at his emperor. Zarkon was glaring at him.

“You wish to leave the Empire.” It wasn’t a question, nor was he repeating Shiro’s request for clarification. Shiro had not risen the ranks out of pure luck, he had worked to get there.

And now he was throwing it all away. For what? For peace? To rest? Shiro didn’t quite know the answer to that, but he was tired and wanted no more.

His dragon, Shion, stood regally behind him, sizing up the monster that backed the emperor. They were eyeing each other and Shiro could feel her unease. They had seen what happened to those who wished to leave the Empire, and it resulted in death. Death for the dragon, or both of them through the dragon’s rider. Shiro had no wish to end Shion’s life, but they had agreed that neither of them had wanted to continue living as a military general and to continue bathing their hands in the blood of innocents.

Zarkon narrowed his gaze. “And why do you wish to do so? You are a decorated war general, your life would be a living comfort compared to that of a foot soldier.”

“I’m well aware, Emperor, but this was a life I was forced into, not one that I wanted.” Shiro appeared calm, but he was tense. He was hoping that Zarkon would make an exception for him, but that seemed to be Shiro hoping for too much.

“You know what happens to those who leave, Takashi.” Zarkon’s eyes flicked from him to Shion and back.

Shiro swallowed and nodded. “I’m well aware, my Lord.”

Zarkon thinned his lips. Clearly, it wasn't an easy decision for either of them, but here standing in front of the council and the royal family, Shiro could only pray for the best outcome.

“Call the executioner.”

The nobles in the room erupted into a storm of words, protesting Shiro’s or Shion’s death. His relations with all of them were stellar, they had no reason to wish him dead. The oldest two princes looked unmoved by this. It was the youngest who stepped forward.

“Father, I believe that this should be my decision.”

Shiro’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at the youngest prince. No, this was not how this was supposed to plan out.

“And why is that, my son?” Zarkon looked slightly amused, enough so that he was willing to entertain his son’s request.

“General Shirogane is the lead general for my section of the military. Whether he is allowed to leave the military or not should be my decision.” The prince stood tall, ignoring the sneers from the second prince next to him.

“Oh?” The emperor waited for the prince to continue.

“I hold full responsibility for my men, and General Shirogane is no different from the others.”

Zarkon tapped his fingers on his throne for a moment before he spoke, “And what is your decision regarding the general?”

The prince squared his shoulders. “He will remain as a general until he is no longer able to fulfill his position, however long that will take.”

The court was quiet, waiting on Zarkon’s answer. Shiro stared at the prince, trying to figure out why now he would speak out against his father. Shiro was lowborn and simply a gifted soldier. Nothing more, and certainly nothing that warranted this type of attention from the royal family.

Zarkon nodded. “The general is yours, Keith. Make sure he does not shirk his duties for the sake of a discharge.”

Keith’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he bowed to the emperor before turning and striding towards Shiro. “With me, General.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Shiro turned and followed Keith, dismissing Shion to leave the throne room through the open ceiling.

The two of them strode out of the throne room and made their way to Keith’s chambers. As soon as the door was shut, Shiro wasted no time in interrogating Keith.

“What do you think you’re doing? I cannot remain here, Keith, he will find out what we have done sooner or later.”

Keith walked over to a small table, set with a pitcher of wine and glasses. He poured himself one. “And you will not be here once he does.” He raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.

Shiro stared at him dumbfounded. “And how is that going to be possible. Shion and I had accepted our fates when we requested to retire. You just told the whole court that I will still be a lead general of the Empire’s army.”

"And you will be, Shiro, until it is safe for you and Shion to leave.” Keith set down his drink and crossed his arms. “Now is a terrible time to try and leave the army, especially after we ordered the Blades to release all those slaves not a mere week ago. Your request already looks suspicious.”

And it had been that guilt that had forced Shiro to face the court today. Most of those slaves hadn't made it out, and listening to their screams of pain still haunted him. Afterward, many of the soldiers that had been in charge of that camp were publicly executed for their supposed insubordination and treason. Shiro shuddered at how he had to remain emotionless in front of his men. He cared for them and watching them die was more of a punishment than being scolded by the Emperor.

“Keith, what are you planning?”

“You are going to bide your time. Thace and the Blades have agreed that once the time is right, you will be killed. And Shion.”

“How is that any different that was going to happen today?”

Keith laughed. "For such a high-ranking official Shiro, you can be quite dense.”

Shiro damn near pouted in front of the prince, his longtime friend. Despite the near ten-year difference between the two of them, it did nothing to stop their friendship. When Keith had been placed over Shiro, he had taken it upon himself to mentor the boy before Zarkon filled his head with hate for the Alteans, a country full of people that did not deserve the hyper-fixation Zarkon had on them.

Keith had grown quickly under his wing, he and Amheug forming a bond that should have been frowned upon in the Galra Empire considering how close they were, but that never detracted from them completing their assignments. Zarkon was a harsh and jealous ruler, always coveting what he did not already have.

“So what am I to do then.”

"Go home. I'll take care of it. You'll know when it's time when the fire changes color." Keith gave him a gentle smile. "You don't have to worry anymore, Shiro. You’ll be free soon. Take Shion and go home.”

Shiro bowed his head and left. Keith was purposely not telling him what his plan was to keep him safe, that much he knew. He hypothesized what exactly the third prince could be planning as he strode through the corridors of the palace. When the fire changes color? Fire technically burns a multitude of colors. Will he be free? Keith was everything but cryptic, though he proved Shiro wrong yet again.

Shion landed in the courtyard before him, her bright purple eyes level with him as he approached her.

The hatchling and Amheug gave you more questions than answers, she mused.

He gave her a brief look, rolling his eyes, and leaping into the saddle. “You could say that.”

She rumbled with laughter and took off, gliding easily through the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took nearly a month after Shiro's meeting with the court for everything to finally happen. The Galra Empire was in a difficult situation with its citizen's rioting about the raised taxes that Zarkon imposed. Someone had to pay for the war, and it certainly wasn't going to be the royal court.

The ties that he and Keith had with the assassins’ guild, the Blades of Marmora, came to be their biggest resource. The Blades were able to corral the people naturally to attack the military base that Shiro stayed at when he was not needed at the court.

Shiro had been out on a scout mission with a small squadron of his men when they came back and found his base aflame. Dragons swarmed everywhere, their wings unintentionally fanning the fires. To the untrained eye, one couldn't tell the difference between a normal flame and an assassin's. Near the coals of each blaze, they burned with a slight purple tint, marking it as an unnatural fire, and who it belonged to. This was the signal that Keith had told him to watch for a month ago.

He immediately stepped into command and began to order his men about, telling them to evacuate who they could, more to fetch water (though he knew that the Marmora fire wouldn't stop burning till there was nothing left) and yet another group to start creating a ring around the base where the fire couldn't burn.

Even with all his instruction, chaos was everywhere. And Shiro took advantage of that.

His heart was kind; he stayed until he knew that no one else was going to be hurt in this massive fire, the citizens or his men.

He gave one last order to take a final sweep of the base before they abandoned it. Shiro went in with them.

That was the last of his men heard of him. Part of the base collapsed and it wasn't until a few days later when the coals had cooled enough for one to even walk near them that they found two bodies, one dragon, and one human.

General Takashi Shirogane and his dragon, Shion, were announced dead upon discovery.

~~2 Months Later~~

Shiro and Shion were keeping a low profile in an outskirts town, near the hills that saw no war and therefore wouldn't know him or his dragon. It was there that he heard word of how the third crown prince had been imprisoned for treason and the Blades of Marmora had left the empire of mere days before Keith had been arrested. Even without being a member of the Empire's military, he knew that Zarkon would be feeling the loss of one of his most promised generals, his son, and the loss of most revered assassins’ guild either the Empire or Altea had seen in the past century.

Shiro could feel a deep-seated guilt claw its way into his gut. He never wished for Keith to take the fall on his behalf. But Keith was the most stubborn out of all the princes, and the one most likely to put his life on the line for those he cared about. That couldn’t be said for the crown prince Prorok, or the middle child Lotor.

Shion nudged his shoulder and rumbled down at him.

Shiro reached up and rubbed her snout. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he will be fine. He won’t give in that easily.”

And Zarkon could still kill him for being bullheaded.

~~2 Years Later~~

Hunk wiped the grease from his hands onto his smock. The metal contraption before him was honestly a mess of parts and he was just fiddling to pass the time. The war was over and he didn’t need to fill all his hours building and designing new war machines.

He never wanted that in the first place. Hunk was a tinkerer, he fixed things, took them apart, found the problem and put them back together again. All the while Topaz kept the forge hot and him company. Since his father’s passing, Hunk had been on his own. His mother had died during childbirth and his father had raised him in the smithy. Topaz had been a birthday gift when he turned fifteen. Three years later, during the middle of the war, his father was gone. Next thing he knew, he was hosting a funeral and then being ordered to fulfill his father's position.

The war hadn’t been all bad, Hunk had made one friend, but that didn’t stop the unease he felt when machines of destruction were needed.

He remembered the archer with the water dragon, a brilliant smile and always had a joke on hand to keep him from getting too depressed about his work. Hunk never saw him often, but he had been as old as he was. Still, the archer had seen years of war that Hunk hadn't, it was clear in the way his eyes would dim if he thought no one was looking, or the fierceness in his voice when he told Hunk not to die on him during an unexpected raid. If Hunk remembered correctly, the archer had a team of his own that weren't quite recognized by military officials but was used none the less.

Everyone called him Blue, or Archer, depending on whether he was with his dragon or not. Hunk was particularly fond of the memory where he and the archer designed a new bow and many different types of arrows to go with. The archer had been armed to the brim, weapons everywhere, by the time he and Hunk were done with everything.

Topaz nudged his shoulder and huffed in the direction of the machine.

Hunk laughed, hands planted on his hips. "Yeah, I know, it doesn't look like much, bud, but it'll make brewing tea way faster than over the fire."

You don’t even drink tea. Topaz rolled his eyes.

“Weeelllll, maybe I want to drink tea, but I just don’t have the time to brew it.”

You’re making it for the captain. His dragon spat a small jet of flame at the forge, relighting the embers.

“Okay, yeah I am. Shiro needs his tea or else he gets unpleasant. And I’ve never seen him unpleasant, but I would like to keep it that way.”

Speaking of Shiro, the man in question strode into Hunks forge, a light smile on his face.

“Hello, Hunk,” he greeted warmly, patting Topaz on the head before offering it to Hunk.

Hunk heard Shion rumble a greeting outside, far too large to fit inside the royal smithy.

“G’day, Shiro, I’m almost done with the tea brewer for you.” Hunk grasped Shiro’s forearm and squeezed gently.

Shiro looked more haggard than he had before, having only seen him a few days ago.

“You resting enough? You look like you could use a week’s worth of rest.”

"You could say that, but a good night's rest is going to have to wait for the time being." He stopped to look at the tea brewer but made no comment about it.

Hunk turned away and began to put his tools away, polishing them with a rag he kept in his belt. “Must be the Galra rebels again, then. You and her highness trying to plan different trade routes?”

“Something like that.”

Hunk hummed and scrubbed at a spot of grease on his wrench. "Sounds, like you could use some help. Advisor Coran should be more than able."

“Actually, we need someone more like you to help us with this.”

Hunk froze. He knew that Shiro wouldn’t ask him something like this, but he may have been ordered by the princess to do so.

“Look, I know the country really appreciated me filling in for my father until the war was over, but I really don’t feel like being in another.”

Shiro softened slightly. “Hunk, you know I wouldn’t ask you such a thing-”

“I know that, Shiro, I do, but I like it here in my forge, away from everything and left to my own devices. I even get to make my own things. Building war machines was my father’s calling. And me? Well, I like to just fix things.”

Shiro looked apologetic and clearly, this was a hard thing for him to ask of Hunk. "I meant no disrespect, Hunk. The princess and I were extending an invitation to join us on a council specifically for protecting the country from the Empire should it decide to attack again."

Hunk gave him an indifferent shrug. “I know you mean well, and I love Altea, but right now? I just want to focus on what I can do for the regular people, not just the soldiers.”

“I understand.” Shiro turned towards the door. He smiled at Hunk over his shoulder. “The brewer is looking fantastic by the way, I can’t wait to have the first cup of tea it makes.”

And with that, the captain of the royal guard left.

~~3 Months Later~~

Lance reclined back till he was lying down. His feet were secured in the straps and his bow was sturdy enough to not mind his weight on it. Not that he weighed much in the first place, but it was the principle of the thing. Blue knew he was going to do this, gliding along smoothly in the air. Lance did this nearly every time they were in the air.

He and Blue have been the dynamic duo for going on ten years now. Granted, Lance was one of the oldest people to ever receive a dragon, most getting theirs when they were fourteen or fifteen. He had gotten – well, more like found – Blue when he was sixteen. He came from a small river town, aptly named Rivertown. It was funny; Altea had cities named Arus, referencing how far it was nestled in the mountains, sounding all poetic, and then it had towns named after its most dominating feature: a river. Lance laughed a little at that realization every time he had, but it still didn’t change that fact that he was a small river town boy who had a good eye and made a name for himself.

Of course, it wouldn’t bode well for anyone in Rivertown to know that the Blue Archer lived most of his life there before joining the military. Especially when he had made enemies over the years, can’t have them going after his family.

Lance watched the clouds float by as Blue soared over the valley. It was hard for him to believe that the war was over and that he had become the number one hitman for hire in the whole country. His mother would throw a fit if she knew. Lance shuddered at the thought of his mother finding out he was technically a man for hire, and not a respectable soldier anymore. She was so proud that he had joined the military with Blue, when really he did it to make sure they would survive. Most of his pay from the war and his jobs now went back to his family. He has four siblings and his father was always out fishing and selling what he caught. It wasn't enough for a family of six. Seven if you counted Blue, and he ate more than all of them combined.

Blue rumbled underneath of him at that.

"Don't worry, bud, I meant nothing by it," Lance laughed.

You make it sound like it was my fault for you rescuing me.

"Think of it more as giving me a purpose, Blue. I was destined to become a fisherman like Pa before you. Now I'm technically a war hero!"

You're an assassin, hardly a war hero, Blue chided playfully.

Lance slapped his dragon's shoulder. "Uh huh, still a decorated war vet."

You wouldn't have survived if I wasn’t there.

"Wouldn't have been in the war anyways without you"

And there it is again. Blue banked to the side, curving to follow the river towards the capital city.

"Awww c’mon Blue, you know l love you!" He could practically feel Blue roll his eyes. He picked that habit up from Lance whenever he listened to targets plead for their lives. He didn't particularly like killing up close, mostly choosing to strike from a distance, but sometimes he had to actually gather information from them. Most of them deserved it, trafficking slaves into the Empire or blatantly ignoring the law and keeping some for themselves. Murderers and other psychopaths like that were pretty common too.

Lance sat up and leaned down against Blue’s neck as they circled their way into their valley. Lance bought a small cabin in the foothills off of a hunter only a month after the war had ended. It had been too soon for him to travel back to Rivertown and visit his family, too many people knew of him and his sapphire dragon. He even had a reward on his head within the Galra Empire. It probably still existed despite the war being over for going on two and a half years now.

The closer the two them got to his little cabin in the woods, the more Lance felt apprehensive about going home. Something wasn’t right.

A dark dragon rose up from the woods, circling once before disappearing over the next hill.

“You know what to do, Blue,” he muttered, patting his dragon’s neck.

Blue huffed and rolled into a steep dive. He landed silently in the clearing surrounding Lance’s home before leaping back into the air again, Lance already on the ground. His bow already knocked with an arrow as he crept towards his cabin.

The door had been left open, even though he was certain he locked it before he left.

A dragon’s roar echoed over the hills and Lance quickly stepped into the house, drawing his bow and leveling it at the person who invaded his living space.

It was impossible for him to be here.

“You’re supposed to be dead, General.”

The general glanced over his shoulder before turning back to his map of Altea. “You were just at the Altean court for a meeting with the royal advisor, yes?”

“What of it?” Lance eyed the royal guard insignia on his pauldron: a dragon with its wings outstretched, but his eyes flicked back to the general’s face as he turned around.

The scar was unmistakable, and the white forelock sealed the deal. General Takashi Shirogane wasn’t as dead as the world made him out to be.

He eyed Lance, seeming to not care about the arrow that could pierce through his plate armor at this range.

“You have been to the court enough times in the last year to know that the royal guard has changed hands,” the general stated calmly. “This should be of no surprise.”

“Simply because I visit to receive assignments does not mean that I am privy to the going-ons of the castle, General.”

Lance’s mind was running a mile a minute. How was this man, this legend, standing in front of him, living and breathing when he should have been burnt to a crisp? His military had been burned to the ground during a riot. He and his dragon had been found in the rubble. How was he here?

The general tsked. “That’s a shame, the gossip there is quite entertaining. Especially for someone with a name like yourself, Blue Archer.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Those things have nothing to do with me, and I have no reason to be there any longer than to get the information I need.”

He remembered how his squadron had been removed from the army. They were all given an honorary discharge and compensation for their duties, but that was all the Altea had offered them after they had laid their lives on the line many times over.

The general was still calm, moving about Lance’s cabin as if he had been here for hours already.

“That seems like you would rather continue as a man for hire rather than being publicly recognized for your efforts.”

“I was in an underground unit for the army, not being recognized is part of the job description.”

“Mm, the Blades were like that as well. You would have fit in with them if you were born Galra.”

Lance sneered. “I am Altean. And what you and your country have done to this country has been more than enough for the next decade.”

“Oh, I am well aware, Lance McClain. And that brings us to the reason why I have come here.”

His shoulder muscles were starting to burn from having his bow drawn for so long, but he held firm. “Why have you come here.”

“To ask for your help.” The general said it so simply that Lance thought it was a joke.

“Hah! Why would you need my help? Do you need help slinking back to your country like the Galran dog that you are?”

“You misunderstand.”

General Shirogane fixed him with a burning look. Lance met his gaze, his own fire in his eyes. He joined the military to provide for his family, to protect them from the war that had been raging so brutally in the plains that every citizen of Altea was worried it would travel to them. Rivertown had been spared, residing far to the north and on the tail end of the mountains. It was hard to reach, but that hadn’t stopped Lance from worrying. And he knew that his calling was to be more than a fisherman. But none of that meant a damned thing if one of the highest ranking generals from the Empire was standing in his living room

“What am I misunderstanding, General?” he asked slowly.

“Altea needs your help to take down the Galra Empire once and for all.”

Lance lowered his bow and fixed the general with an incredulous stare. "You need my what to what now?"

“McClain, you did not reach your status on mere strength alone. Use that head of yours and think.”

He waved his arrow around, bow hanging at his side and muscles relaxed. “No, I heard you. Take down the Galra Empire. That’s all well and good, but what are you even thinking? You can’t just take down the Empire with a hitman and a supposedly dead general? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The man before him looked deadly serious, not hint of a joke in those dark gray eyes. Lance stared back at them for a moment, wondering in what possible circle did he cross to bring General Shirogane to his home and request his assistance. Was the man mad?

Two thumps shook the ground and through a window over Shirogane’s shoulder, he saw blue scales pass than black. His eyes flitted back to the general. The man stood firm, his presence dominating the room.

With a sigh, he stashed his arrow away and slipped his bow over his head. “This can’t be solely your idea. Someone had to put you up to it.”

The first crack in the impassive mask appeared: a small smile. “You’re right. It was the princess’ idea to recruit you.”

Lance rolled his eyes and stepped around the general to the fireplace and quickly lit it, fixing the water pot over it for tea.

“Okay, so it was her Highness’ idea. Great. But that still doesn’t explain how you are standing here, living and breathing in my cabin out in the middle of nowhere, when you should be ashes on the wind.”

Shirogane huffed. “If it had been my idea, I would agree.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. “Your point?”

“With all the knowledge you gained by fighting for your country, what do you think would have happened if there hadn’t been any interference in my leave?”

The archer rolled his eyes and focused back on the pot. He wouldn’t be here being what the general was saying, just like Lance had assumed. Fine then. “You care for mint or green tea?”

The general relaxed and smiled at Lance. “Mint, if you have enough.”

~~1 Week Later~~

Shiro immediately picked up on the fact that Lance had led his own team while a part of the Altean army. He questioned many of Shiro’s decisions despite Shiro having almost fifteen years more experience. It never deterred Lance or his dragon for that matter. Blue was a rare water dragon, a breed Shiro had never seen before. He was sleek and agile, standing two feet taller than a regular horse and about a foot taller than Lance himself at the shoulder with roughly a twelve-foot wingspan. Comparatively, Shion was much larger, a good three to four feet taller than Blue and a twenty-foot spread, but the size difference meant nothing to the small dragon. From what Shiro had observed, water dragons were a mischievous and fun loving breed, but for a dragon like Shion, they were too much to handle. Even if he meant well.

If anything, Shion was more perturbed by the new additions to the castle and therefore the guard. Shiro could hear her constantly grumbling about what the blue dragon and his rider were doing. In hindsight, it was nothing more than casual entertainment for the two of them, but Shiro and Shion were left to adjust to Lance and Blue becoming a part of their routines.

Currently, they were flying into the royal city commons. Lance was talking with Blue about something random, whatever it was getting under Shion’s scales.

“Easy, Shion, they’re just excited.”

And speaking of wartime trysts is excitement? she asked as they landed.

Shiro patted her neck and slid off her shoulder. “Just don’t eat either of them.”

Not even a nibble?

“We can go hunting later, for right now, leave them be.” He strode off down the main street. He heard Lance say farewell to Blue and within seconds he was there right next to Shiro.

Lance had his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned forward to get a good look at him. “So, who’s this inventor we are getting? Something Holt right?”

Shiro walked casually, a hand on his belt. His sword was strapped to his back like normal whereas Lance looked to be unarmed, but he had a few knives hidden on his person just in case. “If you have been listening to her Highness, you would know exactly who we are visiting today, Lance.”

The slighter man leaned away from Shiro, looking at the vendors they passed as they made their way through the streets. "You would have a hard time listening if you had Blue talking your ears off."

“Shion may have mentioned it.”

Lance huffed and was quiet for all but a minute before he was talking again. "Seriously, who is it we are meeting. We're part of a team, right? Shouldn't we communicate?"

Shiro rolled his eyes. Again, he couldn’t really fault Lance for not remembering the name of the person they were searching for. The bond between rider and dragon was important, and when a dragon wanted its rider’s attention, the rider had no choice in the matter.

“Her name is Katherine Holt. The locals say she goes by Pidge, but she’s a brilliant inventor, just like her father and her brother.”

“No mother?”

“Died in childbirth. Sam Holt raised both of his children through the wares of his shop. All three of them used to create things for the people in the city. As of late, Katherine has been preoccupied with other matters to continue her family’s work.”

Lance hummed. His blue eyes flitted around, marking every face they passed. In the past week, he had told Shiro how it was a habit from being an assassin of sorts for two years when the captain had asked if he was distracted.

“She’s the only one left, I take it.”

“Correct. Her father and brother were killed in one of Sendak’s raids.”

Both of them fell silent at the mention of the ruthless Galra general. Shiro had been forced to work with him on the occasional battle, and the man was someone he would like to be burnt to ash, despite being a fellow countryman.

They turned a few corners, walking off of the main street now. The buildings were notably closer to each other than the ones closer to the castle, everyone living on top of each other. The streets were dirty, sewage lining the gutters. It reeked. Shiro fought to keep his expression neutral, he would not judge the people living in this mess. Most of them were here because they couldn’t afford to live anywhere else.

He cast a glance at his partner. Lance looked unmoved by this. He walked with a purpose, edging into the lead just slightly. Shiro was used to this small behavior from the other man. After leading for so many years, it was hard to defer to another. Lance meant nothing by this, but he was more attuned to the surroundings that Shiro would ever be. The captain was also a much larger man than Lance, making it hard for him to see everything if he was walking behind him.

Shiro tapped Lance on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow him down another alleyway. They were getting close. More strange gadgets were appearing in windows and over doorways. The people around them looked like they were used to such things, their small dragons fidgeting with them on occasion.

Both men were looking for the source of all of these machines, but were unable to discern where they were coming from before a tawny head of hair appeared out of one home covered in them. She was small, she didn't even make it to Lance's shoulder, and her dragon was just like her in size. It was wrapped around her shoulder, riding them as if it were a cat.

The young girl was fixing one of the gadgets, tearing it apart with a practiced ease. Lance glanced at Shiro, cocking an eyebrow towards her. Shiro nodded and stepped forward.

“Excuse me, Lady Holt?”

“If it’s anything about the machines being a nuisance to the people, I don’t want to hear it.”

That response took Shiro back and made him pause. How often had she been addressed like this because of her work?

Lance stepped forward and eyed what she was working on, her dragon letting out a warning hiss. “We are here on business from the royal castle, not just a routine guard questioning.”

The youngest and only Holt stopped what she was doing and looked up at Lance. Her eyes were a bright hazel, shining with intelligence. She took in Lance’s appearance and went back to working.

“And I’m sure that a hitman such as yourself would be better off in sewers than here at my shop.”

Lance reeled back with shock. “How the hell-?”

She gave him a critical look. “You have a knife in your boot, another in your belt, and probably another strapped to the inside of your wrist. Only the guards carry weapons in this part of town-” she cast a glance at Shiro. “-And you’re certainly not the captain of the guard, either.”

“I- what?”

Katie Holt narrowed her eyes at him. “Am I wrong?”

Lance clammed up. “No, you- you are correct but-”

“Then you can leave, I have no business with you.”

The archer turned to Shiro and gestured between them, demanding he step in. In truth, Shiro was enjoying watching Lance fumble as being analyzed so accurately.

“Lady Holt,” he began.

“It’s Pidge.”

“Right, Pidge, I apologize if my comrade has offended you in any way,” Lance made an indignant noise, but Shiro continued over him. “He and I are here on the behalf of her Highness, Princess Allura.”

“Oh, this ought to be rich.” Pidge’s dragon curled around her shoulders, looking at Shiro with golden eyes. It really was more cat than dragon in its behavior.

“The princess has taken an interest in your designs and believes that you would be a great addition to her private council.”

Pidge was still messing with the machine before her, completely absorbed in it. Her dragon chirped and she looked up at both of them.

“Private council for what?”

“Undermining the Galra Empire.”

Pidge didn’t say anything for a moment, taking in the both of them. Lance had his hands planted on his hips, and Shiro was still standing at ease with his hands clasped behind his back. Both of them were waiting for her response.

She turned back to her machine and began to put it back together, in a slightly different configuration. “What exactly does this council do?”

"Well, we are still recruiting so, as of this moment, nothing. We need more people than a ‘hitman' and an ex-general to take down the empire," Lance explained.

Pidge nodded. “That it would. Why me?”

“That would be…” Lance looked to Shiro for the answer; he really needed to get Blue to be quiet during meetings.

“Because of your rapport with people and what you have done for them. We are both aware that you father and brother were killed in a camp raid led by General Sendak. Your attendance at this council would be much appreciated.”

Pidge blinked and her dragon leaned close to her ear. She tilted her head, listening. Both men watched as her eyes lit up with a dangerous fire.

“I’m assuming one of your dragons can carry more than one person?” she asked.

Lance jerked a thumb at Shiro. “His can, Blue is a bit small for more than one.”

Pidge immediately stopped working. “Wait here for just a moment.”

She ran inside and not five minutes later she was walking back out, flipping the sign on her door to “Closed” and locking the door. She turned to them, a bright smile on her face. It was a complete turnaround to the stoic mask she had on before.

“My answer is yes, but I’ll require my own quarters where I can continue building my designs.”

Both men blinked.

"You wouldn't mind sharing the forge, would you? The smith is accommodating and he will lend a helping hand if you need.” Shiro hoped that wouldn’t change her answer.

Pidge walked passed them and made for the city center. “As long as he doesn’t touch my equipment without my permission, that should work out.”

Shiro and Lance followed behind her. Her dragon kept a watchful eye on them, occasionally looking back towards its master to say something before returning its gold stare to them.

Shion’s agitation was palpable when they walked into the courtyard, Blue was dancing around her, thoroughly enjoying himself as children chased him. Lance grinned and sprinted to catch and scoop one of the children onto Blue’s back.

Their peals of laughter echoed around them. Many of the children were jumping around Lance demanding to get a ride on Blue. Shiro watched, a smile ghosting his face. Lance was many things it seemed: a charismatic leader, much like Shiro, and a light-hearted soul, jaded from experience. Blue sprayed some of the children with water, causing more laughter and squeals to echo around.

Pidge watched Lance and Blue play. “He doesn’t seem like the typical hitman that you would find in the city. What’s his story?”

Shiro shrugged and motioned for her to follow him to Shion. His dragon looked relieved that he had returned. He smiled up at her. “As promised, we can go hunting tomorrow.”

Good, because he has been playing with the children and spitting water everywhere since you and the leggy-one disappeared. Shion rustled her wings, sounding more than ready to fly back to the castle and curl up in the courtyard.

Shiro laughed. His dragon knelt and he helped Pidge up onto her back. "Lance, say your farewells. We have to attend to the princess and inform her of our success."

“I’ll catch up! I’m a little preoccupied currently.”

He was. Lance had been pinned by his own dragon while the children climbed all over both of them. His hair was mussed, and parts of his clothing were drenched.

Shiro nodded and Shion leaped into the air, her massive wings buffeting everyone as they took to the sky. Blue was a fast flier, his size and sleek build granted him little air resistance. Much easier to slip through the air compared to Shion’s massive build.

And true to form, just as they were about to circle the castle, Blue and Lance zipped by them and landed in the courtyard.

“Told you I would catch up!” Lance called up to them.

“Is he always like this?” Pidge asked as Shion continued to circle.

“Unfortunately,” Shiro responded. Lance was many things, and it was going to take Shiro and Pidge a long time to truly figure out who he really was, if he ever let them.

A few seconds later, the three of them landed and Pidge was the first to slide off of Shion. She stepped away and looked around in awe of the castle courtyard. Flowers and trees lining the outer perimeter, creating a scenic pathway for those whose dragons were not in the courtyard to be able to get to their destinations without avoiding gigantic scaled beasts.

Blue was dancing around Lance as Shiro touched the ground, excited about getting to know another dragon. Lance and Blue were both very social, and it allowed him to connect to whomever he was working with more than Shiro did. Granted, he was still wary of Shiro, if only for his past, but Lance never went out of his way to avoid Shiro.

“Shiro!" Lance ran by him and jogged backward after he passed him. “I’m going out for a hunt. Need anything?”

“Shion and I will be going out tomorrow. She can use a break from you two.”

“Oh, Shiro, you wound us! Me and Blue are a delight and you know it.”

“Debatable,” Pidge muttered.

Shiro chuckled and turned away from Lance, heading towards the inner part of the castle.

~~Next Day~~

Lance grumbled and looked from his bow to his dragon and back again.

“I cannot believe – Blue! You broke it!! This was special made!”

He stared at his dragon, who at the very least had the audacity to look apologetic about ruining his prized weapon.

“Blue, I love you, I really do, but c’mon bud, did you have to drop me, though? I shot you an elk, bud!"

It wasn’t like it was intentional, you weren’t secured in the saddle and I had to dodge a tree. Blue looked away from Lance. He truly felt sorry and relieved that Lance hadn’t been hurt, but the bow was another story.

It was only held together by the string, its ironwood splintered and in pieces, each resting in Lance's hands. The bow had been designed and made by a friend of his from the war, one that he hadn't had the luxury of keeping in touch with afterward.

He piled all the pieces into one hand and ran the other through his hair. Lance was a little bruised and shaken up by the fall, and Blue was right about not being properly secured in the saddle, but he really wished that it would have been his arm instead of his bow that had broken.

“It’s okay, Blue, I’m just…”

You’re upset.

Blue stepped forward and nuzzled his chest. He was upset, there was no denying that, and he was glad his dragon understood that, but now he was out of a long ranged weapon. And that was his specialty, he capitalized on it while in the army. His team had commended him on that, and eventually, he had gathered his own little group of archers that could hit a target from a fast moving dragon in the air to another. Most archers stayed on the ground, airborne archers were a thing either country had yet to see till Lance came along.

But they had strictly been meant for war, and when that had ended, that was it. He and his team were giving retirement funds and shown the door.

Lance sighed and rubbed Blue’s cheek, earning a small rumble equivalent to purring in dragons. “Let’s go see if we can get a new one made by the smith,” he said with a gentle pat and stepped away from Blue.

He’d only been at the castle for a week at the most, but he knew the general layout. The staff was kind enough to point him in the right direction when he got lost, and after being turned around twice, Lance and his broken bow finally found themselves in the smithy.

The door was open and he stepped through, knocking and announcing himself. "Hello? I need a repair or even a replacement?"

A dark golden dragon chirruped and clacked its teeth from the forge, pointing its head towards the back where a broad man was cleaning his tools.

“If you need it by tonight, then you should have come a little earlier.”

Lance knew that voice, there was no way…

“Hunk?”

The smith turned around, eyes wide as he looked Lance over.

“Lance?”

“Hunk!”

“It really is you! I heard there was someone running around the castle flirting with everyone, it had to be you!”

“I can’t believe you’re the royal smith? You were supposed to come from a small town!”

Hunk laughed wholeheartedly, tossing his head back. “Right, just like you’re supposed to be a common fisherman. No one was going to believe that story, Lance, not since you were named the Blue Archer.”

Lance beamed. “Truth be told, I was supposed to be, but then Blue came along.”

Who would have thought that his long lost friend from the war would be here of all places? Lance was blown away, now he actually had someone to talk to. Shiro was all business and that was boring, even Blue thought so.

“Of course, blame it on your dragon.” Hunk crossed his arms and smirked, knowing all too well that Lance never meant anything by Blue being the reason why he was a war veteran.

Lance waved him off. “Pfft, Blue just put the whole thing in motion anyways. I told you I come from a poor but large family. We had to do something.”

“You may have mentioned it. But what are you doing here? The last I heard, you were a man for hire.”

Lance shrugged. “Still technically am, just getting paid by her Highness now, and recruiting people with the captain of the guard. Shiro, you know him right?”

Hunk motioned for his dragon to stoke the fire but kept his focus on Lance. "Recruiting? They have you on that now?"

“It wasn’t like I had much of a choice, I came back from payment pick up with Blue and Shiro and Shion were both at my cabin. Couldn’t exactly get them to leave. Shion’s twice the size of Blue, if not more. And Shiro wasn’t a war general for nothing. Have you seen how massive he is?”

“Lance, I’m the royal smith, Shiro visits for armor and weapons updates for his men,” Hunk deadpanned.

"Right, right," Lance laughed. "You do agree, though. Shiro is built like a mountain.”

Hunk joined him in laughing about the royal captain. “I still can’t believe they made you work with Shiro.”

It felt just like old times between them, talking in the forge about anything and everything. But if Lance remembered correctly, Hunk was nothing short of an engineering genius. He had no reason not to be asked about the team he and Shiro were building now.

“Of course. And you know I’m not here for the sake of it, Hunk. The princess wouldn’t be paying me just to hear a hitman out on council meetings.”

“Shiro may have mentioned it.”

“Then why haven’t I seen you at those meetings?”

Hunk leveled an apologetic stare at Lance, and Lance immediately knew why, even without Hunk saying it. He raised a hand and shook his head. “Don’t, you don’t need to say anything to me, but Shiro had a knack for explaining things poorly. Anything that isn’t a direct order is lost on him. So what did he tell you?"

The shattered bow that hung in Lance’s hand was all but forgotten know, his free hand was placed on his hip.

“He told me that the council he was putting together with her Highness was going to take down the Galra Empire, which sounded a lot like what Emperor Zarkon had said before declaring war on Altea.”

Lance nodded, of course, Shiro would put it that way. It was the most direct and he never beat around the bush to get what he wanted. The only saving grace he was with that was the politeness of accepting when he was told no. Which couldn’t be said for much of the rest of the Altean court.

“Figures as much,” he muttered before raising his voice for his friend to hear. “Look, Hunk, what Shiro said was not wrong, just blunt. And if you know him, you know that he is... tactfully blunt. And he knew you wanted a straight answer.”

Hunk eyed him but didn’t say anything to stop him from talking.

“But, what we are doing? We aren’t starting a war; we are trying to prevent another one. Altea doesn’t have the means to pull another army together, and neither does the Empire. Yet we continuously get reports that Zarkon is threatening to do so, despite the economic disaster it would cause for his country.”

“So,” Hunk took a deep breath before continuing, “You’re telling me, that war may break out if you and Shiro and whoever else you gather don’t do anything, correct?”

Lance nodded. “And I know you hate building war machines, so why not build little gadgets to make Galra lives a living hell while we take it down from the inside?”

Hunk looked apprehensive, not quite believing what Lance was saying. Take down the Empire from the inside? How was the going to be possible when Lance has a bounty on his head, and Shiro was an exiled war general?

“How is that going to even work, Lance? Neither you or Shiro would have any luck of infiltrating the Empire without being guaranteed of being killed on sight,” Hunk reasoned.

“And that, my friend, is why we need your genius.” Lance rewarded him with a crooked grin, one that he hadn’t seen since he was forced into retirement. “You and Pidge would be a huge advantage to us. The two of you together could get us in and out before the Empire even knew what hit them!”

“You and Shiro would still be at high risk of dying, despite my help, or this…Pidge person.”

“It would be higher without you, Hunk. We most certainly need you.”

Hunk studied Lance. His hunting gear was soiled like he had landed in a pile of mud. His cloak was torn at the edge, most likely from getting stuck on tree branches. But his eyes were bright with determination, the same determination that Hunk saw multiple times before Lance would disappear weeks on end while attempting to make a difference in the war. He knew Lance wouldn't take this big of risk if he didn't think he could do it. Lance wasn't shy about telling higher ranking officials that their plans were bound to get their men killed and cost them thousands of lives. Lance had yet to be wrong about something like this, on something this important. He put the country and his men first, his safety be damned at times. If it weren’t for his dragon or Hunk himself, Lance would have been one of the many lives sacrificed to the war.

In the time that it took for Hunk to come to terms with his response, Shiro walked in.

“Lance, are you done here? The princess requests and audience, you and Pidge are required.”

“I am to be there as well, Shiro.”

Shiro looked at Hunk, confused. “This doesn’t concern you, Hunk, you stated your feelings-”

Hunk held up a hand and stopped him from continuing. “I’ve changed my mind.” A quick look to see how truly exhausted Shiro looked from all of this solidified his decision. He shot a quick grin to his friend. “You look like you could use the help. Lance can be a child most of the time, and you need help with that.”

Lance smiled back and faked a broken heart, dramatically placing a hand on it.

“Hunk, you wound me…”

Chapter Text

Princess Allura stood at the head of the table as the three of them walked in. She was surprised to see the smith amongst them, but let it slide. From the look Shiro gave her, Hunk had decided to join the team after all.

Not long after they entered the room, the small inventor that Shiro and Lance retrieved arrived, her small dragon riding on her shoulders. Its gold eyes flitted around before landing on her. It blinked and turned to the inventor’s ear, chirruping and flicking its tail. The inventor smirked and took a seat in the middle of the table. Allura couldn't fathom what the small inventor and her dragon were conversing about, but the way those hazel eyes penetrated everything was eerie. It was similar to the Blue Archer's look when she was debriefing him for an assignment: cold and calculating, but the youngest member of the team still had an air mischief about her.

It would be interesting having her on the team.

On the table was a map of the continent of Cygnus, the Galra Empire lying south of Altea, the Winged Mountains wrapping around both countries. The tall mountain chain cut them off from the rest of the continent, dragons and their riders losing their way through the passes and leaving the sea to be the primary mode of trade for both countries. Year round, they were covered in snow, storms were unpredictable, and once the fatality rate climbed too, Altea and the many countries lying to the north decided it was best to close off the passes.

Once everyone was settled, Allura began, “I am glad all of you are present.” She smiled pleasantly. “Master Hunk, I see you have changed your mind.”

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck and smiled back that princess. “Lance said I could be helpful, I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Excellent.” Allura smiled back and gestured at the table. "We need to find more allies, ones that are readily available."

The group of four nodded, that was a fact that they all knew.

"Advisor Coran has been researching who he can find in the military records, tracking to see who is alive and still able to fight." Allura pointed at a few cities on the map. “Balmera has their own militia, but they are close enough to the Empire that my father and I are wary of pulling forces away for our own needs. Arus currently only has the Royal Guard and its branches to patrol the city. The various towns in the plains are too small to provide anything.”

Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge looked to her to continue. Lance was focused on the map, eyeing one place, in particular, he had been this whole time.

“Master McClain?”

The archer looked up and blinked at the princess. “I’m sorry, Princess, did you need something?”

Allura arched an eyebrow. Strange that Lance wasn’t trying to flirt with her. “Something on your mind?”

He took a moment before asking, "May I speak freely, your Highness?"

Allure frowned slightly. She kept her gaze on Lance, but she could see how Hunk reacted to that. He seemed just as surprised as she was. Lance never asked for permission to speak, letting his mouth run. He had been notorious for doing so during the war, always speaking his mind. She looked to Shiro and the captain shrugged. Allura reminded herself that he had only spent a week’s time with the hitman, knowing his tendencies at this point would be a tall order.

Eventually, she nodded and Lance launched into it.

"No offense, Princess, and I'm sure that Coran is doing his best, but he's probably not thinking broad enough." He pointed to Thorne's Keep, deeply nestled in the foothills of the Winged Mountains and surrounded by forest. "Thorne is a gathering place for mercenaries and more hitmen. None nearly as law abiding as myself – but we can't have everything – but Princess, if you pay them enough, they will be loyal as far as the coin goes. Most if not all have something against the Empire. Sorry, Shiro."

"None taken," the captain said with a nod.

"Where are you going with this, Master McClain?" Allura's tone held a hint of ice. She wasn't sure if Lance was insulting her intelligence or Coran's capabilities.

“I was just getting to that.” The next town he pointed at was Legendtown, on the far east of Altea, again in the foothills of the Winged Mountains. “Thorne may be your best bet for easy men, but quality comes from here, Legendtown. Plenty of times I’ve encountered veterans of the war there. They may be harder to convince since they were forced to retire, but I know a few who might be willing.”

Allura raised her eyebrows, impressed with Lance’s knowledge. “You have connections?”

Lance grinned wolfishly, a hard glint in his dark blue eyes. "Princess, I'm not Altea’s best hitman based off of my looks.”

The princess leaned onto the table and looked between the two towns Lance focused on. There was the Lance everyone knew, flirting with anything that moved. She considered the castle lucky to not have more McClains running around. Thorne's Keep held its appeal, but she couldn't afford to hold the loyalties of men who lived by the weight of their purse. Of course, there were a few like Lance, who killed for the greater good along with their own survival, but beyond that nothing was guaranteed.

“Who would give use the better advantage?”

Lance hummed, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. “It’s hard to say, Princess, are you looking for men built like, Shiro and Hunk? Or people more along the lines like me, meant to infiltrate, kill, and get out before the alarm sounds?" He glanced at the smith with an apologetic smile. "No offense, Hunk."

The larger man shrugged. “I’ll take it, you lumped me in with Shiro, that’s a compliment of itself.”

Both of them chuckled while Allura continued to study the map. This was her endeavor, and her father had told her that he would only intervene once things were underway. It was her right of passage as a queen-to-be, she had to be committed to her decisions. But with Lance's input, she felt uncertain of which way she wanted to go. Altea had the funds for mercenaries, her problem with them was that they could easily leave with sensitive information if someone offered them a better pay. Unlikely, but a risk none the less. Hiring old military was a viable option, but it was a Lance said, they had been forcibly retired as Altea recovered from the end of the war. Her father and the lead generals felt it was necessary to downsize the army to free up funds for rebuilding. If she remembered correctly, Lance had led a squadron of archers who had been removed as he was. They had to be somewhere, surviving much like Lance had been.

“What about your men, Master McClain?”

The archer furrowed his brows. “What about them?”

“They are alive, yes?” she asked as she straightened.

Lance shrugged, pointing at Thorne’s Keep. “More than likely. My crew was a wiry bunch; it took a lot to kill them.”

Pidge looked at him, sharp eyes narrowed. “You were the leader of the Dragon Archers?”

“The one and only, Miss.”

The inventor rolled her eyes, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms. “Figured the leader of that group would be more amazing.”

"Listen here, you little twerp!" Lance fumed, "The war would have been a lot different without me and my crew!"

Another eye roll. “Like any other archer couldn’t have done what you and your crew did.”

“I’ll have you – ”

“Lance, enough.”

The archer looked at the captain of the guard, a little taken aback by his sudden intervention, but quieted. Shiro’s face held no forgiveness if he chose to speak out again. He sat back with a huff, crossing his arms like Pidge, but looked away from her. The inventor’s dragon tittered from her shoulder and Pidge grinned.

Now that the argument was over, Allura folder her hands in front of her stepped back from the table. “It is settled then. Shiro, you and Master McClain will recruit his old team and one or two mercenaries. Be ready by the end of the week to depart."

“Of course, your Highness,” Shiro and Lance chorused.

She left the room, head held high. The decision had not been her favorite. She had no information on Lance and the rest of his Dragon Archers. His group wasn't labeled as an official sect of the military, operating on covert raids and information gathering assignments. When the military cut personnel, archers were typically a group first to go, and hence Lance and his men.

There had been some dissent within the ranks of this decision, but Alteans were nothing but loyal. Almost to a fault. Altea’s military was a force to be reckoned with, its men and women willing to fight for their country till they could no longer. Yet the Galra Empire had something just as foreboding, fighting in nearly the same manner, but with no fear of casualties. Their armies were large, the size considered overwhelming. The Empire fought with numbers, and Altea fought with tactics. It proved an even match for near twelve years. It had only ended because the leaders from Nylia came and forced their treaty, tired of trades being interrupted from both of them.

Allura sighed and rubbed her temples. Lance was a handful just by himself, though he was fairly tame today, but in combination with Pidge… it was asking for a disaster waiting to happen. Clearly, neither of the two liked the other. Allura just hoped that they didn’t let that get in the way of the team dynamic.

Pidge glared at the machine, frown and eyebrows scrunched.

“…what is it?”

Hunk made an offended noise. "It brews tea! How is that not obvious?"

The little inventor straightened her glasses and looked at him and the…brewing pot.

“I fail to see how this contraption is meant to brew tea.”

It honestly looked like it was slapped together parts, welding marks looking more like globs than actual lines. Pidge was slightly concerned that this was the work of the master smith of Altea. It appeared to not have a container for water and no place for a cup to catch the tea itself.

Hunk was busying himself with another project. He and the archer were gathered around two pieces of wood that looked like they had recently been a bow. Made sense. Lance had a large quiver on his back, fairly standard for most archers, but what caught her attention were the small compartments on his thighs. Arrows fletchings were poking out over the lips of each of them, full to the brim. Judging by the depth of boxes, they were nearly as long crossbow bolts. Pidge had only seen Lance with a longbow – she had seen him with knives as well. He had a good eye between both.

“Hunk, I’m telling you,” Lance was saying, “I fell off Blue and crashed through some trees.”

“Why did you even fall of Blue to begin with? Lance for as long as I’ve known you, you’re one of the best fliers in this country.” Hunk scolded, his hands hovering over the bow.

Pidge edged closer, stepping over Hunk’s large land dragon – wingless and covered in thick muscle – and examined the bow closer. It was interesting, the inner part had been lined with a metal alloy, keeping the curve of each arm perfect. The handle had been what snapped, no metal to protect it.

“What’s so special about it?” she asked, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

Lance looked over at her and then back to the bow. “Well, not only is it Hunk’s best work, it’s literally one of a kind.”

“Aren’t all bows one of a kind? No piece of wood is ever the same.” Kit tittered on her shoulder, tail poking her cheek. It was to chide Pidge for being blunt.

The archer took a deep breath, counting seconds before releasing it slowly. Thankfully for him, Hunk stepped in.

“I could have done better, but we were in the middle of a military camp, not my smithy, Lance.” Hunk turned to Pidge and smiled gently. “But to answer your question, Pidge, this bow is special because of how it’s made. The wood is Glacier wood, pretty hard to get ahold of since those trees are in deep into the Wings.”

Gears turned in her head. Glacier wood was also fairly hard to form correctly, let alone carve out. The curve of Lance's bow was deep compared to other longbows, and the tips were curved back. While Lance was an excellent shot, this bow didn't have much for distance, opting more for accuracy from what Pidge could tell.

She looked up at Lance who was still pouting, sort of. He was making a face; she couldn’t tell what expression he was going for at the moment. “What’s your longest shot?”

Lance glanced down at her, blue eyes guarded. “Seventy-five yards. Stationary.”

Pidge picked up one of the ends of the bow, eyeing the curve. Just as she thought. Lance had chosen to go more with accuracy than distance, and if they were going to be infiltrating Galra in any way, shape, or form, they were going to need him from a distance. That distance was nothing to scoff at though, still fairly impressive for a marksman.

“If we make the curve shallower, you could up your distance to a hundred yards easy,” she said as she set the piece down. “The farther away you are from the target the greater the chance we will have success. Take them by surprise as they say.”

Hunk ran the numbers through his head and nodded. “She’s got a point, Lance.”

The archer chewed his lip, looking between them and the bow. He knew Hunk cold simply fix this with a new handle, it wasn’t as if the arms of the bow were damaged. A new bow meant relearning. Each bow had its tendencies and he had had this one for years. And Glacier wood was hard to come by, none of the smiths he had visited over the years had any.

Not to mention that changing the curve, changed the draw length. All of the custom arrows Hunk had made for him would be useless.

But that inventor with the small dragon had a point. His job was going to be taking down guards so Shiro could break in.

“Guess you’re going to have to redesign these too, bud.” He pulled out an arrow and extended it to its full length. He saw Pidge’s eyes light up with excitement.

“So that’s how those work,” she whispered. She held out her hand to see it. Lance handed it over to her.

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “That’s an easy fix, just add another segment.”

“Do you still have Glacier wood here, Hunk? Or should I go make a trip to the Wings?” Lance crossed his arms and leaned back onto another workbench.

"Only have enough for a short bow, but I know a guy in Thorne who might have enough. Name's Rax."

"I'll keep an eye out for him then." Lance's eyes flashed with recognition but didn't elaborate.

Pidge tuned them out as they continued to talk about who would have what. From what she knew, Thorne had a black market for everything if you were looking hard enough. A trip out there had cost her and Kit a month’s worth of work just for a part that barely yielded any results. The ends didn’t justify the means, so Pidge never went back.

The arrow she held in her hands was interesting. It had a twisting and locking mechanism built into it, so when Lance pulled it quickly out of his pouch it would automatically extend to its true length. But what really held her interest was the threading at the head. Carefully she unscrewed the arrowhead, avoiding the sharp edges. Currently, the arrow was equipped with a broadhead, meant for doing as much damage as possible.

“Lance, do all of your arrows have different tips?” She pushed up her glasses as she interrupted the men’s conversation.

“Uh, yeah. I have some target heads and silent ones. Hunk thought they were a good idea.”

Pidge laughed, and both Lance and Hunk took a step back.

“I have so many ideas for this.”

Kit rolled her eyes. You just have a thing for explosives.

The inventor didn’t say anything to that but screwed the broadhead back onto the arrow shaft before handing it back to Lance. “It will be interesting to see what we can do with these.”

Lance took back the arrow, collapsing it back down. “Why do I get the feeling she’s going to design a bomb…”

Hunk laughed lightly. “At this point, I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Pidge smiled up at them. “Great! Because I already have ideas.”

“Well, we better get started then, shall we?” Hunk smiled back. “Tope, light the forge.”

The great hulking gold mass spat a glob of combustible spit at the forge, lighting it in seconds. The smithy started to warm up and the three of them set to work. Hunk managed to find the plans for Lance’s bow all the way back from when they first designed it along with the plans for the different arrow heads. Pidge started to scrawl all over them, making finer adjustments, as well as drawing out plans for the new arrowheads. The two of them bouncing ideas and designs as lightning quick speed, leaving Lance to sit and watch them, a fond smile on his face.

He missed having a team.

The three of them decided it would be best for Hunk to build Lance a short bow for the time being. Allura was pressing them to go recruit more people, and Hunk refused to let Lance go anywhere unarmed. Lance had argued that he was just as handy with a sword or knife as he was a bow, but Hunk was an immovable object. Eventually, after their heated arguing died down, Allura and Shiro agreed that they felt more comfortable with Lance having a bow in his hands than a sword and shield.

Over the course of the next few days, Hunk spent all of his time carving and shaping the Glacier wood into the shape of a bow. It was a foot and a half shorter than Lance's original, but he was able to make it so it had the same draw length, saving him the time of making new arrows. By the third day, it was done and it was just as beautiful and graceful as the long bow Lance originally had.

That same day, Shiro found Lance in the training yard, shooting arrow after arrow at targets spread in a haphazard array.

The archer had forgone a shirt in the heat of midday. He had wrist guards and gloves on each hand and a quiver strapped to his back. His dragon was sunning itself in the grass a few yards away, tail flicking, and gold eyes tracking each arrow. Lance was shooting at an impressive speed, faster than he had been while he was in the military. Shiro had only encountered him once during the war and Shion had escaped with bruised scales that took two weeks to heal.

The last arrow buried itself in the bull’s eye of the farthest target, the shaft still quivering as Lance lowered his bow and released a deep breath.

“I see your eye is still as good as it was seven years ago,” Shiro commented from the side.

Lance turned and faced him, a grin in place. “Seven years? Damn, I thought it was shorter than that.”

Shiro stepped onto the training field and eyed each of the targets. Nearly all of them had arrows deep into their centers. He found himself glad that Lance was the one watching his back now, for too long he had been putting his trust only into his dragon.

“It was two years before the war ended when we both met. Shion still remembers where you hit her.”

Lance carded a hand through his hair, his bangs sticking straight up from all the sweat. "Sorry about that. Clearly, I didn't do any lasting damage or else she would have a grudge against me."

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Who’s to say she doesn’t?”

Lance clutched the bow to his chest and glanced up to the sky. “There’s no – Shiro, she doesn’t actually – ?”

The captain laughed and shook his head. “No, she harbors no ill will against you as far as I’m aware. Blue on the other hand…”

The dragon sat up, gold eyes narrowing at Shiro. Lance broke out into laughter, a hand clutching his stomach.

“Oh, there is no way I’m repeating that to him, Blue. I’d like to keep my face.” His smile was bright, and Shiro was smiling too.

There was something about Lance that just brought out the better in people. Shiro chalked it up to his charisma, much like his own. The boyish nature relaxed people, inviting them in, and the protectiveness made them feel safe.

Hopefully the people they were about to go find tomorrow were the same way.

Shiro sobered up quickly, Allura’s latest request sitting at the forefront of his mind. “You’re prepared to leave in the morning, yes?”

Lance nodded. “Now that the bow is ready, we can go anytime.” He slung the bow over his shoulder, parallel to his quiver.

“Then I shall see you at rounds tonight.” He turned to leave.

“Shiro, wait.” Lance grabbed his elbow, stopping the captain. “If we are leaving in the morning, you shouldn’t do rounds tonight. I saw Sven lounging around today, he can do them.”

“And why should Sven cover rounds?”

Lance sighed, letting go of Shiro’s arm and planted it on his hip. “Look, Thorne isn’t the nicest place, and you need to keep about yourself. Taking midnight rounds is going to get you killed.”

Shiro frowned. “Thorne can’t be anything worse than the Empire, Lance.”

Blue fire burned into him, Lance’s gaze hot. “Captain, trust me when I say this: you do not go to Thorne on less than a night’s sleep. We will only have ourselves there, dragons aren’t allowed at all.”

That was new information. “Why didn’t you say this when we met a few days ago?”

“Because her Highness wouldn’t have let us anywhere near that place if I had. The best men and women we need for this are going to be in Thorne’s Keep.” Lance took a steadying breath. “It’s filled with mercenaries that have everything against the Empire. Some even have issues with Altea.”

Shiro considered the way Lance was staring him down, jaw set and eyes never leaving his. He sighed and nodded his head. “I’ll talk to Sven and Katya. They should be able to cover the rounds.”

The archer sighed, shoulders dropping. “Thank you, Shiro. You will see what I mean when we get there.”

The captain clapped Lance on the shoulder, granting him a smile for his efforts. “I appreciate the caution, Lance.”

Shiro was knocking on his door just after the sun breached the horizon. Lance had already been up for an hour or more, gathering his gear. He was clasping his cloak around his neck when Shiro opened the door, dressed in full guard uniform.

“Gods above, Shiro, you are not walking into Thorne dressed like that. Don’t you have any other armor? A set that doesn’t scream ‘I work for the Princess’ maybe?”

Shiro frowned. “The only other armor I have is the Empire armor.”

The archer sighed and marched them out of his room. One would think that after being the captain of the royal guard would give Shiro enough to buy a discreet set of armor. Hell, he was friends with Hunk, and Hunk does almost anything for his friends. Lance led Shiro all the way to the animal pens near the kitchens, a mud pit for the pigs wet and ready. Just what he needed.

He turned and faced Shiro, holding out his hand. “Let me take your cloak.”

The captain eyed him, slowly taking it off. “What are you – ”

Lance ripped the cloak out of his hands and shoved Shiro into the mud pit. “Hate me later, but this will save your life.”

Shiro lay in the mud shocked. If it weren’t for the serious expression on Lance’s face, he would have thought this a joke. That didn’t stop him from being a little peeved about being covered in muck.

“Lance, how is this going to save my life.”

The archer gestured for him to rub more of the grime over his shining armor – the very armor he was now going to have Lance clean when they got back. “Just get the stuff all over the plating, it’ll make the sigils and what not harder to make out.”

Shiro begrudgingly did so, shooting glares at the slim man on the edge of the pit. “Most of this will flake off while we are flying.”

Lance waved a hand. “Then we will find more and give you a fresh covering. I’m not letting you get killed because you don’t have anything stealthy.”

“I’m the captain of the royal guard, Lance. I am supposed to be seen.” He stood up and sloshed his way out of the mud pit. He was grateful the pigs were still in their pens and not out yet.

His backside was soaked, coated in the wet dirt nearly from head to toe. If he started chafing, he was going to have Lance do his laundry for a month. Riding a dragon with wet clothes was amongst the least comfortable things one could do.

The archer smiled, not the least bit apologetic. “You’ll thank me when it saves your ass. But you might want to hold off on putting your cloak back on, don’t want this soiled either.”

Lance knew that the captain’s cloak had been a handpicked gift from the princess shortly after Shiro flew in and saved them from a nasty group of Galra raiders. They had been so backwater, that they hadn’t recognized Shiro or Shion when they arrived. Easy work for Shiro and his large dragon really. Lance had heard that he had barely broken a sweat by the time he was done. And thus, a week later, a pretty black cloak with silver embroidery was given to Shiro for his valiant efforts, along with an offer to become part of the Royal Guard.

Shiro wiped off his gloves, slapping them against his thighs to try and clean them off. He could hear Shion rumbling through their bond, amused at his predicament. Lance was grinning, some of the seriousness slipping away Shiro continued to glare at him.

He sighed and stalked past Lance. "Let's get this over with."

Lance snickered behind him but followed.

The flight to Thorne’s Keep was uneventful. The wind was with them, making their progress much faster than they had anticipated. Normally, it would take close to five hours by dragon to reach the place, but they arrived shortly after three. It put Lance on edge considering it was still fairly early in the day. The midday hours were when Thorne woke up, most of its inhabitants hungover from late night drinking or sore from rough sex. Brothels and bars lined the streets, both men and women selling their bodies. Lance had spent more than enough time in Thorne to know the people always had blades of some sort on them. Shiro’s broadsword would be intimidating and he had knives placed throughout his person, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

They landed in the surrounding woods, Blue and Shion settling into a small clearing. The forest was silent but for them, the rustle of wings and scales amplified. The mud on Shiro’s armor had, for the most part, stayed in place and the small amount that had blown off left the plating dull. Lance handed him his cloak, the only things that truly gave away their status. He tugged up his collar, covering his mouth and lifted his hood.

“Shiro, I know you’re captain, but let me do all the talking. Some of these guys might recognize you, so put your hood up.” Lance turned and started threading his way through the woods.

He heard Shiro follow behind him, stepping on nearly every leaf or stick. Lance tried to not let it get to him, years of being a hitman taught him how to be silent nearly everywhere. He was only loud on purpose, so people wouldn’t jump out of their skins every time he showed up.

Eventually, they made it to Thorne’s Keep. It was an outpost in the middle of the Winged Mountains, situated at the entrance of Thorne’s Pass with led to Nylia and countries beyond. The way had been dangerous, enough so that many riders and people, in general, were lost or had been found dead when winter thawed into spring. Nylia still traded with Altea, but it was over the Cygnus Sea far to the west.

They passed through the gates, a couple of nasty looks guards stood on either side and glared at them. The two of them didn't even bother to stop them, they knew who Lance was, and whoever accompanied him wasn't going to cause trouble.

Everything about Thorne was dark: dark buildings, people dressed in dark clothing, Thorne’s physical structure had even darkened over time. After years of abuse from the elements, the stones were nearly black. What a perfect place for the most resourceful black market Altea had to offer to be.

Lance strode through the crowd with purpose. There was a shop that was near the center of the Keep, near the smithy and stables. Everything within the Keep had been refitted to house more people and for them to sell their wares. Children didn’t sprint about, people averted their eyes from them, avoiding Lance’s icy stare. The only sounds they could hear were the vendors shouting their wares, or when they passed the tavern and brothel, the sounds of men deep into their cups and grunts and moans of sex.

Shiro and Lance kept walking, ignoring it all.

When they reached the center of the Keep, Lance took a left and snuck in between buildings. A quick glance over his shoulder let him know that Shiro was still tagging along behind. He smirked beneath his collar and faced forward again.

They entered the back of the shop, greeted with what was probably the only warm place in the whole Keep.

Lance lowered his collar. “Shay, you in here?”

He heard someone gasp, and before he knew it was engulfed in a bone crushing hug.

“Lance! It’s been too long! Why has it taken you so long to come visit?” Shay shook him about, his feet leaving the ground.

“Shay – can’t breathe – missed… you too –”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” she put him down gently and Lance leaned this way and that to realign his back.

“Yeah sorry about not visiting, been a little busy.”

Shay crossed her arms, her foot and half height difference over Lance would have made it intimidating if it weren’t for how well Lance actually knew her. She was sweet, sweeter than she should be for a black market dealer. Could still bash your head in, but sweet.

“Uh-huh, one of my runners told me you went and joined the princess. Didn’t think you were interested in that.”

Lance shrugged. “She pays well, and my family can use every aruan they can get their hands on. You know how I operate.”

“Mm. You always put them first, when are you going to take care of yourself, Lance?” she chided. She turned and started heading to the front of the shop. “So, what are you here for this time? Information? Weapons – and you know I can’t do much about that. You have these weird arrows that no one else uses.”

Lance motioned for Shiro to follow him. “Keep your hood up, Shay isn’t all that friendly with Galra, past or present,” he whispered.

“Got it,” Shiro responded.

They followed her to the main part of her shop. No one was inside, if someone wanted Shay for something, they entered in through the back. Anyone who came in through the front was guaranteed outrageous prices for anything she had.

“You got any of that Glacier wood? Broke my old bow hunting.”

Shay looked over at him, an eyebrow raised high, nearly to her hairline. “You finally broke that old thing? You’ve had that for years, ever since the war, yeah?”

“The same guy who supplies me arrows made it for me. I’ve tracked him down again and he and another friend have agreed to make me a new one. Just need the wood for it.” He glanced around, looking for any sign of it. Shay was his only consistent informant and provider for just about anything. She even made him his cloak, one of a kind as thanks for saving her shop from bandits.

She pointed over to the opposite side of the shop. “There should be some in that corner. Don’t know how good the quality is, but it’s better than cutting down your own tree.”

Lance grinned and made his way over to said corner. True enough there was some there, long links that were about five feet in length. Some of them were warped, way beyond any use, and he picked up ones that were as straight as possible. They weren’t as thick as he would have liked, but maybe Hunk could make something out of them.

He handed them off to Shiro and dug out his purse. Shiro looked a little affronted at being designated as the pack mule, but thankfully he didn’t say anything. Lance had the feeling that as soon as they were out of this place, he was going either get the lecture of a lifetime or get stuck doing some gods’ awful duty around the castle for a month. There went his free time.

He tossed Shay a few gold aruan, ignoring her squawk about him overpaying her. It was all pretense, but what he was about to ask her was really going to make the money worth it.

“Say, you haven’t heard from my old crew have you? Rin, Geoff, and all them?”

Shay froze up for a second before moving about the shop again, appearing normal, but she couldn’t hide the shake in her hands as she straightened things. Rin had been his second in command, a little ruthless in the way she took down targets, but he hadn’t been able to deny her talent when he recruited her during the war. It was safe to assume that Rin has been the pack leader since he left.

“Geoff is dead,” she said quietly after a minute.

“Sorry to hear that, but what about the others?”

Lance waited for another few moments, but Shay never answered.

“Shay, what’d they do.”

She flinched. “They didn’t really do anything, me and my shop are fine.”

“Then can you tell me where they are?”

Shay looked away and refused to answer. Lance knew that Rin had threatened her with something. Rax maybe? He was Shay's older brother but had suffered a major injury from the war, taking his leg and a hand. Shay ran this shop to support both of them. All because Lance had been green under the gills.

“...forest…”

Lance frowned. “What about the forest?”

Shay took a shaky breath and Lance swore he was going to deal with whatever made her this scared. “Find the tree, in the forest. You’ll know which one.”

He cursed under his breath and tossed her another coin. “Send a runner if things get bad.”

Shay nodded and they turned to leave. He’d be damned if anyone hurt Shay or her brother again, he done enough damage as it was.

They entered the alleyway, Lance’s blood still boiling. The thought that Rin was being a ruthless gang leader made him furious. It wasn’t a stretch to know that she was going to end up this way, she was like that during the war too. Rin constantly called him soft when he let soldiers go with only an arrow in the arm or leg, alive. His second in command shot to kill, never missing her mark.

“What was Shay talking about?” Shiro whispered.

Lance inhaled through his nose, tugging up his collar before he answered. “Old meeting place. It’s outside Thorne.”

“How far outside of Thorne?”

“Far enough. Keep Shion updated.” Lance turned and started walking out of the alley. Shiro didn’t respond and followed behind them.

When they got onto the main streets, people parted out of their way. Lance was sure they got his glare and instinctively moved away from them, lest they get a knife to the throat or an arrow through the heart. The time it took them to leave the Keep was significantly shorter than it took them to reach Shay’s shop.

Lance heard Blue rumble in the back of his head, showing him that Shion was getting antsy. The images of what happened in Shay’s shop made their way to his dragon and Blue snapped his teeth.

Ogara has been here, I can smell her.

Clouds rolled in, butting up against the higher mountains, cloaking everything in a dull gray color. The woods were dark. It was as if Thorne knew a confrontation was going to happen. Lance walked past tree after tree, heading towards his old hideout. While Rin was brutal, she was also lazy. Why waste a perfectly good space because Lance was no longer with them?

After long minutes of walking through the woods, they came across a large clearing with an old oak situated in the center. Low huts surrounded it and dragons lounged about. They ranged from brown to gray to a dusky green. Lance counted only four of them.

There was a small campfire away from the huts and the tree, smoking lightly, still fresh. But there wasn’t a person in sight. Lance’s gaze looked over everything, noting how the dragons stared at them but didn’t move, one of the hut doors were open, a lantern flickered in another. It was silent apart from the occasional crackle from the campfire.

“Keep your guard up,” he whispered.

Shiro didn’t respond and he could hear him shuffling the Glacier wood around.

Minutes passed and still, no one came to face them.

“Rin!” Lance shouted, impatient. “You’re here, don’t keep me waiting!”

A figure dropped to the ground off to the side. She stood, tall and willowy, the same height as Lance. Rin had a cruel smirk on her face, bow and arrow in hand already.

“I knew sooner or later your patience would run out, Lance,” she laughed.

Lance narrowed his eyes at her. “And your games of hide and seek have grown old.”

Rin pouted. “You were never any fun after the war, what happened to you?”

“You know damn well what happened, there’s no need to get into it again.”

Another person walked out of the woods from behind Rin. “Rin, let’s hear what he wants. Lance wouldn’t come back without a reason.”

Rolo stepped up beside Rin and crossed his arms. Looking at the two of them Lance could see that they have suffered since he left. Rolo’s hair was limp, grease and dirt weighing it down. Rin looked the healthier of the two, but if Rin was running the crew, she was taking more than her fair share. Rolo simply looked exhausted, and a quick glance at his gray dragon, Beezer, showed no different.

Rin rolled her eyes, puffing her cheeks dramatically. “Alright, let’s hear it, what are you here for?”

Lance couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling crawling its way through his chest. Rin’s eyes gave her away. They were ready to send him away at a moment’s notice. When he had left, he knew he hurt her when he did, but she was so blinded by her own wants that there wasn’t room for anything else.

“We’re taking down Galra.”

Rolo looked shocked, and Rin narrowed her eyes, all pretense gone. “We? Who’s ’we’? You and the big guy back there?” She jutted her chin towards Shiro.

“He’s part of the crew.” The way Rin was eyeing the both of them made Lance’s skin prickle.

“So you moved on? Glad to know we were just temporary, Lance,” she sneered.

Rolo placed a hand on Rin’s shoulder, bring her down a notch. “Rin, let’s just hear them out. Lance wouldn’t stop by if he didn’t think we could help.”

Lance had always been grateful that he picked up Rolo, he was one of the most laid back members of his team, taking after Lance in regards to how he handled targets. It had been him, Lance, and Maru who killed only when they had to. Rin and Lester took things too far, killing without discrimination. Whatever it took to get the money was how they operated.

He glanced back at Shiro. The captain looked tense. He knew that these weren’t the people he was imagining when Lance said that they were going to recruit his old team. The original team of Dragon Archers had been close to ten people by the end of the war. Over the years, a few had died, Lee, Oren, and Mik lost their lives in the last battle before Altea and Galra reached a tentative peace. Rowen and Orbos left when he did. They had families they hadn’t seen in years, and the pension they were receiving from the military command was enough to hold them over. Rowen and Orbos were both resourceful, they could make a living somehow and keep their families safe.

If Lance were to really have his way, he wouldn’t want Rin anywhere near this team. She was possessive and wary of anything and anyone who came too close to what she desired. Multiple times Lance had to pay a compensation of some sort after a night out. She hadn’t been this way during the war, but as soon as it was over, and their time cleared, Rin made it blatantly clear about what she wanted. Him. Lance wasn’t opposed at first, Rin was great after a few hard drinks. But it was those nights that enabled her, deluding her into thinking that he was actually interested. So, when Lance left because he heard Rivertown was struggling, Rin nearly fractured the whole team. Lance remembered how she had tears streaming down her face as she yelled at him about being selfish and leaving the team because he wanted more money. Despite her declaring her love for him, Lance still left.

He steeled himself, this wasn’t going to be easy, but there was no backing out of it now.

“The princess is putting together a team to infiltrate and bring down Zarkon. The threats are happening more and more often, and the king and his court are sure that an attack is imminent," he explained. "We already have some people helping, but we need more than what we have now."

The marksmen before him had mixed reactions. Rolo looked unconvinced, and Lance could understand that. He had never been one to enjoy all the missions if anything Lance always had him as backup because of it. But Rin. Rin looked furious. Her eyes blazed and she had her teeth bared.

“Is this all some trick to get more money? You’ve sunk so low that you went and groveled for the Princess’ attention?”

"It was never about the money to begin with!" Lance snapped. "All of this has been for the better of the country and for my family. I didn't become a hitman for the money, Rin.”

She shook her head and stepped away from Rolo, beginning to circle Lance and Shiro.

“That’s always been a lie, Lance. You don’t have a family, you never talked about them or told stories about them while the war was raging. They didn’t exist till Nylia finally showed up and put an end to it all." Lance followed her movements, never letting her out of his sight. "Then you leave, taking all the business with you because you're the Blue Archer with a fancy dragon. No one wants a ragtag team of retired archers, Lance. You screwed us over by leaving."

“She has a point; it’s been pretty hard to find any jobs once you started taking them all.” Lance’s eyes snapped to Rolo. Lance knew that it was going to be hard, competition was something that they couldn’t avoid in an occupation like theirs.

“I had to do what I had to do, it was never because I wanted to hurt you.”

He heard the creak of a bow and spun to face Rin, an arrow aimed at his chest. “Oh, is that really how you felt? You’re a liar, Lance.”

“Rin, this isn’t about that -”

“Yes, it is! Or what’s the whole point of you coming back, Lance? You made it pretty clear when you left that you never cared about any of us.”

He bristled. “Not once did I ever say that; you were the one -”

Dragons growled, cutting him off and Rin’s grip on her bow tightened. The brown closest to them stood and made its way closer, backing its rider. Ogara and Rin glared down at them. A man stepped out of one of the huts, hearing Rin’s raised voice and all the dragons’ movements. Maru followed shortly after.

Lance had hoped that Rin had let go of her delusions, the fantasies of him caring for her beyond a teammate and drunken nights. Even after years of not seeing him, she still clung to his image.

“Rin, lower your bow. I didn’t come here to -”

“Shut the hell up about not wanting to hurt any of us,” she interrupted. “You hurt us when you left, and you’re hurting us now by standing there.”

Ogara rumbled over them, the air shimmering around her mouth. Lance eyed the two of them, his mind racing.

“We should have gotten rid of you a long time ago.”

She loosed her bow and Lance’s whole world tilted. A body crashed on top of him and groaned. The wind was knocked out of him, and he gasped, struggling to breathe. The weight rolled off him, a ragged breath sounding next to him.

“You’re... okay...?” Shiro rasped.

Lance stared wide-eyed at him, unbelieving of what just happened. Distantly he heard Shion roar in outrage. Lance sat up and tugged his bow over his head. Rin stood there in shock, emotions flying over her face faster than Lance could read them. A cold sense of dread settled over him.

“You… you brought… him?” she whispered. “You brought a fucking Galra general here? Of all places, here!?” Her voice rose with each word and before he knew it, Lance watched as Shiro had another arrow pointed at him. “Should’ve known you were a traitor, Lance. You can watch him die now.”

Lance whipped out an arrow, sighted, and loosed before he realized what he was doing. Ogara roared and writhed in pain as Rin fell to her knees, hands clawing at the arrow sticking out of her chest. It was so deep that the fletchings were only a few inches outside of her body.

She gasped for breath, blood bubbling up her throat and out of her mouth. It ran down her chin. Lance watched as the fire in her eyes dimmed, and with it, Ogara slumped to the ground heavily.

Both were dead.

Distantly, Lance her Lester shout and his dragon roared from its place by the fire.

“The fuck are you doing, McClain!? You’re going to pay for -” An arrow sprouted him his throat and Lester and his dragon both collapsed to the ground. It wasn’t his own. He looked over to Rolo just as a blade found its way into the archer’s arm. Beezer launched himself onto Maru’s dragon, rolling over the fire and into the huts next to the tree as they fought.

Maru was readying another knife, aiming for Lance next. He didn’t want to accept that he was going to have to do this. Rin forced his hand by shooting at him and Shiro. He pulled another arrow and knocked it.

“Maru, please… please don’t make me do this…”

She seethed, the once calm and collected woman he knew was gone. “You left us, Lance, and then you killed Rin. You’re not getting out of this.” Maru drew her arm back.

Lance let his arrow fly. It buried itself into Maru’s heart, stopping it just as Shion crashed into the clearing in a rage, purple eyes alight with anger. Her tail knocked over the rest of the huts, and her claws crushed Lester's and Ogara's bodies underneath her claws. Maru fell to the ground, lifeless. Her dragon ceased to struggle underneath Beezer.

Blue landed not a moment longer, calling for Lance. He had to ignore his dragon, turning to Shiro who was struggling to breathe as his body went into shock. Rin’s arrows buried deep into his right shoulder, tucked right in between the breastplate and his pauldron. Lance scrambled over to him, hands hovering over Shiro.

“Shit, why did you have to go and do that, you idiot,” he cursed.

Shiro grinned, tight with pain. “Couldn’t… let you-ah, get hurt.”

“You’re still a fucking idiot.” Lance thinned his lips, thinking things through.

Rin’s arrow hadn’t penetrated Shiro’s shoulder all the way through. He was going to have to force through.

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

“If I want it out…” Shiro tried to sit up but fell back to the ground.

Lance heard Rolo make his way over, arm wrapped tightly with the remnants of his sleeve. He nodded to Lance and the two of them hefted Shiro into a sitting position. The captain cried out in pain, sending Shion into a frenzy, she turned to them, pupils so narrow Lance could barely see them.

The dark dragon stalked forward, eyes locked on the three of them. Blue tried to turn her away but she swatted at him, throwing him towards the trees. Her wings were raised, blocking out what light was coming through the clouds.

“Shion!” he called, grabbing her attention.

Lance received a growl in response. He gritted his teeth, Shion was intent on protecting her rider, feeling all of his pain. There was no distracting her, reasoning with her was going to put their lives on the line.

“Shion, I need you to listen to me!” The dragon continued to prowl forward. “Shion, we are trying to help, I need you to stop this!”

She snapped her teeth, a deep growl rumbled around them, filling the clearing with its noise. Another couple of steps and she was looming over them. Lance stood and faced her, arms outstretched and blocking Rolo and Shiro from her.

“Listen to me, Shion! Shiro will be fine as long as you let us tend to him, we can’t help him if you’re going to kill us.”

She lowered her gigantic head down to his level, turning slightly to stare at him with one eye. He smelled brimstone on her breath, sparks flying out each time she breathed. Shion stilled in front of him, assessing him.

Lance didn’t lower her arms and he kept his voice level. “You have to trust us, Shion. We’re on the same side here, I wouldn’t hurt Shiro. The war's over, I don't - I'm not forced to hate him anymore."

The large dragon remained still, her eye boring into him with no remorse. Lance could see the internal conflict within it. Shion was struggling to see that he wasn’t a threat, her rider being hurt throwing her back into the days where war was everything. It was kill or be killed, and she had done everything in her power to keep Shiro from dying. Lance knew that she was berating herself for letting him out of her sight, for letting him wander the woods with Lance in the lead. None of this would have happened if Shiro had stayed with her.

Lance reached for her slowly, placing his hands on her dark purple scales. They were hot to the touch, but Lance didn’t flinch away. He stared back into Shion’s eye. “You have to let me save him. He saved my life, I can’t let him die now. Please, Shion, find yourself again. This isn’t the war.”

She blinked. Her eyes flicked between Lance and Shiro on the ground behind him. Then it settled on him again. A sigh left her, and she nodded, pulling her head away, but staying to watch over them.

Lance nodded back and quickly turned back to Shiro and Rolo.

“What’d you do to it?” Rolo still had Shiro propped up, blood was flowing from the wound around the arrow shaft.

“Just calmed her down. Does Rin still use those shitty heads on her arrows?”

Rolo nodded as Lance set about removing Shiro’s pauldron. Blue and Shion hovered over them, worry mounting each time Shiro grunted in pain. Lance did his best to keep the arrow from moving around in Shiro’s shoulder, but it was hard when armor kept getting in the way.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t my arrow, Shiro. That would have destroyed your shoulder,” Lance muttered.

Shiro gave a halfhearted laugh, barely more than a huff. “I don’t really want to find… out the difference.”

“If I have my way, you won’t.” Lance braced himself against Shiro’s arm, a hand on his back and one on the arrow shaft. “You’re going to hate me for a little longer, though. Try not to scream too loud.”

And he pushed.

Rin used a smaller broadhead than Lance did for her arrows, so pulling it out of Shiro’s shoulder wasn't an option, but he was still forced to shove the arrow all the way through before doing anything else.

Shiro screamed as the head broke through his back. Lance continued to push till there was enough of it showing to break it off. Shiro was limp against him and Rolo, gasping and heaving for breath. With the arrowhead off, Lance felt more comfortable about getting Shiro back to the castle. The people in Thorne knew who he was on sight, and were not about killing him despite Shiro being the captain of the royal guard. They knew him as a Galra general, not as a man loyal to the Altean court.

Lance looked over at Rolo. “Do you have any bandages in those huts? We can’t heal him here.”

Rolo got up without a word and hunted some down. Blood wasn’t flowing out of the wound nearly as fast as it was when Lance first shoved the arrowhead through. Shiro’s breathing was still ragged though, each intake moving the arrow shaft.

“Don’t worry, Shiro, you’re going to make it,” Lance muttered, his fingers digging into Shiro’s cloak.

He berated himself for letting this happen. How could he have possibly thought that Rin had gotten over herself? She wouldn’t believe him about his family, confessed to him no matter how many times he told her that he hadn’t felt the same way. Gods, he was so stupid. It was his fault that Rax ended up hurt, that Shay was in the situation she was. He should have known, should have seen the signs earlier –

Rolo returned, bundles of bandages in hand. Lance grabbed on before the man even knelt back down, wrapping it around Shiro’s shoulder and around the arrow, stabilizing it. He worked silently, holding out his hand for more bandages when he needed them.

Five bindings later, the arrow was secured, barely wiggling when Shiro breathed. The captain still had labored breathing, but at least each time he inhaled, the arrow wasn’t causing more damage. Shiro was slumped against Lance, exhausted from the day’s events.

“Shiro, you better not die on me.”

“Don’t plan on it…”

Chapter Text

Altean medicine was much farther along than Galran. It was a fact, it was also the reason why so many doctors were held captive during the war, forced to heal Galran soldiers with a knife to the throat. Many healers after the war retired, the thought of going anywhere near another human for medical reasons made them nauseous.

They couldn’t make it to the capital before Shiro was dead from blood loss. Lance had Rolo fly ahead to Arus to relay the message that Shiro was hurt and their return would be delayed. The nearest city to Thorne’s Keep was Glacier, a two-hour flight, but that was still too long to wait and it was the best chance they had. Already the bindings over Shiro’s chest and shoulder were starting to bleed through and Shion was flying sluggishly.

Blue flew next to them, golden eyes worried. Shion needs to land.

Lance nodded and patted Shion’s shoulder. Shiro was leaned up against him, barely conscious. Shion circled and landed in a clearing, snow fluttering around them. Shiro's breathing was degrading, each breath more labored than the last. They had only been in the air for a half hour total. But with Shiro fading fast, Shion was in nearly in the same condition as her rider.

Blue helped Lance lower Shiro to the ground, and Shion curled up around them, her nose right at Shiro’s feet.

He checked the bandages, blood painted them a bright red compared to the clean white they had been. The captain's skin was beginning to lose color and he could barely keep his head up.

Lance held his head up and slapped Shiro’s cheek, waking him back up. “Come on, I need you to stay with me, Captain.”

Shiro groaned and blinked his eyes open. Dark gray met blue, unfocused and hazy. Lance furrowed his brow. This wasn’t what he planned, and he would be damned if he lost another teammate. One was already too many, let alone the half dozen others he lost during the war and had recently killed.

“Why...do you have snow in your hair?”

Lance glanced up, flakes falling onto his cheeks. Great. Not only was it cold, it was snowing. Amazing weather for flying. He sighed and looked back down at Shiro who’s brows were pulled together in confusion.

“We’re heading to Glacier to get you some help,” Lance explained. “I sent Rolo ahead to warn the palace.”

Shiro nodded and relaxed as much as he could against Shion.  She rumbled and curled tighter around them, offering what warmth she could. Blue curled around them where she couldn’t and tried to block out the wind. It sliced through their clothing and Lance had to fight to keep his hands steady as he examined Shiro’s wound.

The bleeding had slowed down, yet it was still faster than what Lance would have liked.

“Hmm, you seem to be in a rather dire situation, yes?”

“You could – what the?” Lance flinched away from Shiro, pulling his knife out into a guard position.

A small person was peaking over Shion’s neck, the dark dragon having fallen asleep with her rider. Blue growled, but the newcomer leveled a bright green-eyed stare onto him and he instantly quieted.

“Who’re you?”

The person smiled, a row of dull teeth greeting him. “Someone who can help! Your friend there is going to die of hypothermia and blood loss within the hour.”

It sounded so matter of fact as if this person instinctively knew the near future. Lance stared at them for a moment longer. Those green eyes were like lamps, large and opened wide to see every little detail they could.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh!” The person chuckled a little. “My name is Reiner. Will you let me help you?”

Lance looked down at Shiro. The captain was still losing color and each breath was becoming harder and harder to notice. A gust of wind ripped through them, making both Lance and Shiro shiver violently. The archer looked back at Reiner and nodded, making the decision to try anything to keep Shiro alive. He tucked his knife away and stood.

Reiner beamed up at him. “Brilliant! Put the captain on your dragon and follow me.”

“What about his dragon?” Lance didn’t want to risk Shion falling into another blood rage because she couldn’t find Shiro right away.

“Do not worry, Blue Archer, my hut is just behind that tree,” Reiner explained, pointing at one of the largest oaks Lance had ever seen. “She will not worry as long as she can smell where he went. She needs her rest too.”

Reiner began to skip away, leaving Lance to haul Shiro onto Blue’s back.

They smell unnatural, Blue commented.

"It's something about the eyes." He was a little unsettled too, not many referred to him by his full title. It was offputting.

Once Shiro was loaded onto Blue’s back they followed the trail of footprints in the snow to Reiner’s hut. Shion curled tighter around herself as they left and Lance wished there wouldn’t be that much snow to cover their path or their scents.

Reiner’s hut was small. The doorway barely reached Lance’s shoulder. Reiner poked their head out and smiled.

“Come in, come in! You are doing no good standing out there when a blizzard is about to blow through and you have a man bleeding out on your dragon. Come, come!”

Lance shared a look with Blue. Were they touched in the head?

His dragon shrugged, lowering himself to the ground so Lance could drag Shiro into the hut.

The temperature difference was instant as soon as they crossed the threshold. And the size... The size caught Lance off guard. What appeared to be only a small hut in the middle of the woods was nearly the size of his home back in Rivertown. There were different hallways leading to separate rooms, a fireplace warming the whole place on one side of the room they were in now. There was a desk littered with books and flasks filled with liquids in a large array of colors. Some stood over an open flame, bubbling and smoking quietly, while over sat with droppers inside of them. A bookshelf was packed full of texts and other knick-knacks right next to the desk, within easy reach of the chair that was pulled out from the desk. A quill was left on a piece of paper, ink dripping off of the end.

Plants were everywhere, filling the empty spaces to the brim. Some of them weren’t even native to the area, clearly belonging to the coastal regions of the Galra Empire, exotic and colorful. Some were even outside of Lance’s knowledge, having never seen them in Altea.

“Like it?” Reiner popped up next to him, startling Lance and nearly causing him to drop Shiro.

“How…?” Lance was still gaping at everything.

Reiner shrugged. “A little bit of magic, really helped to expand the place. You Alteans and Galra are so wary of magic when it’s the same magic that lets you bond with those dragons waiting for you outside.”

“Magic doesn’t – magic is…?”

“We can discuss how magic does, in fact, exist at a later time. Your friend still needs his shoulder fixed.” The small person stepped away from Lance and gestured for him to follow. “This way, this way!”

Confusion didn’t even begin to describe the way Lance’s mind was reeling right now. He hefted Shiro higher onto his shoulder and followed. Reiner led him through a series of corridors until they were in some sort of medical room. Plant life was still everywhere, but Lance could now recognize some of them. Doctors throughout Altea used most of them for healing purposes; balms, salves, pastes, and teas to cover everything from burns to simply sleeping at night.

“Lay him on his side, we have to pull the arrow out,” Reiner instructed.

Lance did as he was told, forcing himself to focus on Shiro instead of gawking at everything. His mind was still stuck on how this place fit everything inside of it when clearly the outside was a hut smaller than his cabin back in the forest just north of Arus.

Reiner flitted about. They tied up their hair as they went and bounced from one shelf to the next, grabbing plants and other tools they needed.

“Did you already break the arrow head off?”

Lance nodded mutely, simply watching Reiner work. They ground the leaves and other herbs together, mixing it with the milk from a crushed poppy stalk. Painkiller, something he and Shiro had been lacking when Lance pushed the arrow through to get to the head of it.

“Good, good, you are not as slow as you appear to be.”

The archer frowned, glaring at that small hermit. “Look, it’s a lot to take in. Last time I checked, magic didn’t exist.”

Reiner laughed. “You have much to learn about the world, then. Now, come help me with this shaft, the mixture is only good for a few minutes.”

Lance stepped forward and started to unwind the bandages. Hardly any of it was dry anymore, blood soaking most of it through. He dumped them on the ground with a resounding squelch.

The arrow shaft stuck out a few inches on either side of Shiro’s shoulder, the fletchings nearly in the wound. Blood trickled out, pulsing with each breath Shiro took. Reiner tutted and touched the end of the arrow.

“That ruffian girl did this? The one who rules Thorne’s Keep?” they asked.

“She doesn’t rule it anymore.”

Reiner blinked and nodded once. They placed their hands on the shaft, wrapping their long fingers around it. "Hold him steady and on my count."

Lance lifted Shiro’s arm and braced himself, his own arm wrapping around Shiro’s front and the other steadying the both of them from the back.

“One…”

He let out a long sigh.

“Two…”

Inhaled.

“Three!”

Lance pulled Shiro away from Reiner as they pulled out the arrow. Shiro groaned and stiffened in Lance’s arms before falling limp once more as soon as the arrow was out. Lance was panting just from the stress of it all.

Reiner peaked over Shiro’s shoulder, eyes glowing. “Arrow’s out! You can leave the room now.”

“Wait just a minute –”

The smile disappeared. “Leave or he bleeds out.”

Lance glared at the hermit. “If he dies…”

They waved the arrow at him, plucking his arm of the captain’s chest and giving him a small shove away from the raised bed.

“Yes, yes, you will kill me too. Fair warning: arrows and steel cannot harm me.”

And with that Lance was left to face the door that was slammed in his face.

Hours passed, and there were flashes of green light from the room within. Lance could hear the unintelligible mutterings of chants and incantations briefly before each display of light. He alternated between pacing and glaring at the door, berating himself for letting them get into this situation.

He should have known, should have fucking known that Rin would pull something like this. Ever since he left, he heard rumors of her and his old team taking jobs they would never have taken if he were still with them. Some of those jobs were so backhanded, so low water, that he was surprised that they had little to no self-preservation. Half of those clients were known as Galra spies. What were they doing taking those missions?

Reiner stepped out of the room and clapped their hands together. “The captain should wake up within the hour, after that you are free to go!”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “What did you do to him?”

“Do you like tea?” Reiner walked past, a cheerful smile on their face…and completely ignoring Lance’s question.

The archer glanced at the hermit and made for the door to Shiro’s room. He opened it, catching a glimpse of the man before the door slammed in his face for the second time. Reiner took his hand and dragged him down the hallways.

“Wait – what? How the hell –?”

“You seem like a tea person. I have lemongrass, mint, green, and some herbal tea to choose from.”

Lance groaned and let Reiner drag them away. If they could show up from down the hallway, there was no use trying to go back.

His new companion dragged him into the living room, setting him down in a chair near the fireplace as they bustled about grabbing a clean kettle and cups for the tea.

“What tea would you like, Blue Archer?”

Reiner was staring at him, those green eyes duller than earlier and their face tight. They looked tired.

There really was no getting out of having a cup of tea with this hermit. "Green."

A smile flashed at him and they were off, picking through plants on the right side of the fireplace. Lance never saw them fill the kettle with water, but as they put it over the fire, he could hear the slight hiss of it as it began to heat up.

Reiner pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

“Are you going to tell me what you did to Shiro?”

“Saved his life, that is what you wanted, yes?”

“Well, yes –”

“Then that is all you need to know.”

Lance watched Reiner settle into the chair, pulling their legs up to sit cross-legged in the seat. He was amazed at how small they were, smaller than Pidge and she was nearly a grown woman at this point.

“Okay, then can you tell me how you saved him?” He changed the question slightly, hoping they would answer.

“Magic. Healing magic to be precise.” They seemed proud of that fact.

“I thought magic didn’t exist.”

“Again, you Alteans are very close minded about magic, same with the Galra far to the south.”

The kettle whistled and before Lance could blink, there was a warm cup of tea in his hands. He looked between the cup and Reiner, their smug grin permanently etched onto their face. Lance sighed and let the cup warm his hands. Magic.

A concept that he hadn’t hear about since his childhood when his mother told him bedtime stories.

"Right… magic exists. That's some much-needed information, but what does that make you? A wizard? Witch? Mage?"

“Typically my people go by Olkari, but we tend to be called wildlings by the rest of Cygnus.” Reiner sipped at their tea.

“Do you and your people just live in the woods, or are you from somewhere?”

“Why does one need to be from anywhere? Galra and Altea have warred for years based on where they are from, and labels such as that are merely a social construct so you ‘civilized’ folk can wage wars against each other without reason. Funny how that works.”

Lance sighed through his nose, the… Olkari before him was eccentric he realized. And that was putting it mildly.

“But you call yourself an Olkari. Is that a title or a race?”

“It is a name of old times, before Altea or the Empire even existed.”

His brain was starting to hurt. Reiner was dancing around all of Lance’s questions and he was simply too tired for all of this.

“Fine, you’re Olkari, great.” He rolled the cup of tea between his hands, looking down at the tea.

To say that Lance wasn’t curious about magic, now that he knew it was real and had seen Reiner perform it multiple times, even if his mind refused to believe it, would be a lie. There had been many times throughout the war where Blue just happened to be in the right place at the right time, without any communication on Lance’s part. He just came barreling through, saving Lance’s life on more than one occasion. Whenever he asked his dragon about it later, Blue couldn’t answer him, only telling him it had something to do with the bond. Plus, if magic were real, then that would also explain why Blue can produce water – not that Lance would ever drink the water spewing from his dragon’s mouth, but it was water nonetheless.

“If you are hoping to learn magic, you have no capacity for it. Your mind is too set in its ways,” Reiner commented in his silence.

Lance glanced up from his cup and grinned half-heartedly. “Wasn’t planning on asking.”

“Good, I would have no patience for you anyways.”

Silence passed over them once more, both of them sipping their tea. Lance enjoyed the warmth of the fire, he could feel himself drifting to sleep. He hadn’t felt this exhausted since the war. What had he signed up for?

He could feel his head dipping, the gentle heat of the fire drifting over him, reminding him of the times where he and his team gathered around the bonfires, laughing and drinking the night away as they celebrated another hard earned day.

Reiner had said that Shiro would wake within the hour, right? He could afford a few minutes of sleep…

~~3 years Earlier~~

The halls of the palace felt cold despite the summer heat of the Empire. Warm winds wafted through the open walls, the scent of salt water heavy in the air. The breeze did nothing to fill the corridors, he felt alone ever since Shiro escaped.

Keith’s armor felt heavy, sweat rolling between his shoulder blades. He hated court appearances, donning the dark armor always put him in a foul mood. How Amheug survived with nearly black scales in this heat was a mystery.

He strode through the hallways; servants and slave alike stepping out of his way as he billowed past. It had been roughly a week since Shiro had been declared dead, the Blades and Keith had kept a low profile. Since the fort in Opaltown had burned to the ground, Keith had kept up the appearance of mourning his dear friend and mentor. Lotor sneered at the way he covered himself, all black with a light purple sash around his waist with long pants and sleeves to his wrists. Galra this far south typically wore sleeveless tunics and harem pants, loose and light. The servants and slaves were barefoot while merchants and above clad their feet in sandals. Keith preferred boots that came to his knees, the chances of rocks and sand getting between his toes nil.

Shiro had been the one to recommend that type of footwear, he himself always wearing a pair of well-worn leather boots. Keith remembered how Shiro told him he was drafted into the army and Shion choosing him, coming from a clutch of war dragons of good breeding. The nobility had been shocked that a lowborn such as Shiro had been chosen. During Keith’s lessons, Thace had explained to him that it had been a sign of good luck for Shiro, a chance to rise higher to a predestined status. When Keith had received Am, coming from the same parents as Shion but the smallest of the clutch, Shiro and his dragon were already of great status. They were well respected amongst the army and loved by his men. The emperor followed the tradition of his sons learning from the greatest generals of the army, Prorok and Lotor being mentored by Kydent and Sendak respectively. Shiro was next in line, as was Keith.

Hurry, little one, the emperor is not keen on waiting any longer, Am whispered.

Keith grit his teeth and picked up the pace, and shoving away and wandering thoughts.

The great hall was magnificent in its size, open to the sky to allow the dragons of the nobility to attend as well as their riders. Emperor Zarkon’s dragon, Dramur, lounged in the back, pitch black and glaring yellow eyes. He was more monster than dragon, flightless because of his size, merely a threatening background for audiences with the emperor.

Keith strode up the main walkway, raised a few feet off the ground. Lotor and Prorok were standing next to the throne, Haggar hovering just behind Zarkon's right shoulder. There was a Blade kneeling that the foot of the throne and that was where Keith stopped.

He knelt. “My Lord, I apologize for my tardiness.”

“Stand.” Zarkon’s gravelly voice filled the immediate area.

It sent a chill down Keith’s spine as he stood. After the war, his age had truly begun to show. A deep scar ran down the side of his face, forcing one of his yellowing eyes to droop. His skin had paled over the years, almost as pale as Keith’s, and his beard was streaked with gray. The emperor's hair was fading at the temples, still in sharp contrast to the rest of him. While Zarkon was nearing the end of his reign, his body had yet to give you, his frame was thick with muscle. It made him an opposing figure on and off the battlefield.

It was almost a shame that an unknown disease was beginning to take its toll.

Keith cast a glance at Lotor and Prorok. Lotor’s light hair was pulled into a high ponytail and it still fell down to the middle of his back. Prorok had his tied in a knot, off of his neck and away from his face. Facial hair lined his jaw but stopped just before his chin. Both of their eyes were dark and staring back at Keith.

“How long have you been in mourning for the late General Shirogane?”

He straightened his shoulders and met the emperor’s eye. “The granted mourning period is a fortnight, father. It has only been a week.” Don’t give anything away.

Zarkon leaned to the side, resting his chin on his knuckles. “And Takashi was that close to you, son?”

Keith always had to pick and choose his words carefully in front of the rest of his ‘family’. He could say the wrong thing and they would disown him – or worse, have his head. He flexed his fingers, forcing them to relax. Patience yields focus. He could get through this without fucking it up.

“General Shirogane was my mentor for many years, father,” he said slowly, “Lord Thace and I were very close to him. His untimely passing was a shock to the both of us.”

Zarkon hummed, and Keith could see out of the corner of his eye that Lotor rolled his eyes, flicking his hair over his shoulder.

“The Lord Thace has been keeping up his duties,” Zarkon mused. “The generals still under you have mentioned that you seem… distracted.”

He winced internally. He had been slacking in some of his duties while planning with the Blades. “Shirogane’s death has been a hard event to overcome, father. I mean no disrespect to you or my men.”

The Galra sun beat down into the room, the radiant heat made more sweat run down his back. He sorely wished to strip all of this armor away and go flying. His nerves weren’t helping either.

“They have also said that the Blades have been active recently, you’ve held many meetings with their leader Kolivan. Twice in the past day.”

Keith’s heart rate sped up. He found it unsettling that his men were telling the Emperor all of this, but if he denied it, it would immediately tell him that Keith has something to hide.

“General Shirogane communicated most often with the Blades and Leader Kolivan directly. I am simply picking up some of his duties while I find a suitable replacement for him. I apologize for neglecting my own.”

Zarkon’s dragon shifted, unwinding and lowering its great head down to their level. Keith refused to look at it. There was the belief that dragons could see into your soul and expose your secrets to their rider. Keith was hiding many things, Shiro’s life being the biggest secret on his list.

The Blade that was kneeling in front of the podium shifted, drops splattering onto the ground beneath them. Keith hadn't recognized them, more than likely being one of their latest recruits.

“Informants in the Cities have told me that the Blades have been active, same with those stationed in Starfall.”

“We have been trying to recover the slaves that were set loose from the fire in Starfall, rumor had told us that –”

“Why are you basing your decisions on rumor?”

Keith glared at Lotor and growled, “The majority of my faction is made up of assassins, Lotor. Their occupation is based on rumors."

Lotor opened his mouth to reply but was cut off with a hand. “Enough, now is not the time, Lotor.”

Zarkon narrowed his eyes at Keith, the third prince fighting the urge to cross his arms defensively. The scrutinizing glare he was under was unnerving. He was certain he covered his tracks; the Blades were loyal to a fault and he and Shiro had been their commanders ever since Kolivan was appointed. Dramur shifted again, its scales rustling and unwinding further. Keith could hear its breath punch the air with brimstone, could feel the flames readying themselves.

What did Zarkon know?

The emperor continued to stare, gaze heavy. Keith refrained from looking away. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. A large number of people relied on him, he was their protection from the horrors of Lotor and the near work-camp-like conditions of Prorok. The Blades of Marmora and the rest of his men loved Shiro and Keith, and Keith cared for them in return. He refused to let the people he cared about fall into the hands of those that would hurt them.

“Savla, stand.” The blade rocked to their feet, an uncharacteristic waver. Blades have always been swift in their motions, but this one was sluggish and appeared to be dizzy.

“Lower your hood,” Zarkon commanded.

The assassin lowered their hood.

Keith grappled with his anger. Savla’s face had been cut and beaten, blood running from her split lip and a gash on her forehead. Her eyes were glassy, one pupil blown from a concussion. Bruises were beginning to swell along her cheekbones and her jaw. As she settled on her feet, Keith saw the marks of a handprint around her neck. How dare someone do this. Keith was certain she was forced to endure the punishment – a warning for him. Zarkon was aware that the Blades were not strictly loyal to him, their only connection to him being Keith.

He tore his gaze away from her and glared back at the rest of the royal family. Lotor looked smug, proud of the reveal. His smile gave him away. This was his work, his sadism brought to life on this young Blade. Fire raged inside of Keith, his hands itching to reach for the decorative sword at his side and to launch himself at the second prince.

Zarkon let the silence envelop the room, gauging Keith’s reaction. Savla was wavering on her feet, brows drawn together in concentration.

Keith seethed where he stood, clenching his jaw. Not only was it a constant reminder that he was simply a bastard child that Zarkon took in to maintain his image, but he was held to different standards compared to the rest of the royal family. Prorok was the perfect son, loyal to his father, and did his bidding down to the letter. The crown prince that everyone dreamed of.

Lotor, with the way he looked down at others and flaunted his position as the second prince, was the epitome of bratty middle child, but still adored by the court. He could flash his smile and the person he just beat within an inch of the life would forgive him. His sadism was a past time that Zarkon let him cultivate, and Sendak encouraged throughout the duration of the war. The second prince was ambitious and sought after everything he knew he couldn't have, and dealt with the obstacles the only way he knew how. The torture rooms and prison blocks were his playground.

Then there was Keith. A lowborn son from a wench who hailed from the lower districts of Imperion forced to become the stand in prince for Prorok and Lotor when they were too tired to deal with their duties. For years, his only reprieve was the lessons he had from Thace, learning about the history of the Galra Empire, his family line, and the ways of raising a dragon. Every other moment he was berated for misbehaving when he followed the rules, ridiculed for speaking out of turn when he had been silent and punished for the look in his eye because he had suffered another tongue lashing from another royal. Zarkon never once gave him praise, and in all honesty, Keith never wanted it. The emperor was a father he never wanted but forced to have based off of his pale skin and dark hair and eyes, the royal family's outstanding appearance compared to the rest of Galra.

Savla sucked in a breath and slumped. Keith reacted quickly, catching her and lowering her to the ground. The silence had lasted long enough.

“Why have you brought her here in this condition?” he asked, voice quiet, the barest hint of his anger audible.

Lotor snickered and Prorok hushed him with a stern look. Zarkon reclined back into his throne, his heavy hands resting the armrests.

“A warning for your disobedience, my son,” he said, words carrying an unspoken warning. Keith would be next.

Keith remained silent, nothing he could say would make any difference. Another blade could be killed the next time.

"Get her out of my sight and to the healer, her blood is causing Dramur to thirst for it."

He wasted no time in gathering Savla’s small frame into his arms. Keith nodded curtly to the rest of the family and catching Haggar’s cold stare before turning to leave.

Keith carried Savla to the infirmary. Doctors whisked her out of his arms and assured him that they would look after her and her dragon for the next few days.

His blood was still raging. Threats were nothing new, but this was the first time Zarkon took to showing his power through allowing Lotor - fuck, he needed to find Thace and Ulaz. They should know.

People practically jumped out of his way as Keith blew through the hallways, brows lowered and his glare murderous.

Thace’s rooms were a few corridors down from him and considerably smaller than his own. They lacked the welcoming chamber, only having a bedroom and an attached bathing room. Keith gave a sharp knock before opening the door.

His teacher was there in the room, and thankfully so was Ulaz. That would make his situation much easier. After this, he was going to need to tell Kolivan.

“My prince –” Thace began.

Keith waved him off. “Zarkon knows.”

Both men froze. Keith’s vague announcement putting them on edge. There could have been many things that the emperor could have found out about: the runaway slaves, the lack of loyalty to the crown, Shiro’s escape, not to mention the various other small things the Blades of Marmora have done against him.

“What does he know specifically, Keith?” Ulaz asked.

The prince paced in front of the two of them, feeling their concerned gazes on his skin. “He knows that the Blades are only here because I am, knows that the slave trade throughout the country is suffering because of our hand.”

Thace stepped in front of Keith, stopping his pacing. His light brown eyes were calm, but Keith could feel the urgency in his hands.

“Did he find out about Shiro?”

Keith shook his head, looking down. “No, I don’t believe so.”

Thace's hands relaxed and he heard Ulaz sigh with relief. Coming up with the plan for Shiro to escape had been difficult, and nearly exposed themselves to the Empire. The Blades of Marmora have only been exploited as tools by the royal family until Shiro was appointed their leading general. He had seen them for the people that they were and never sent them on missions that put them at unnecessary risk. Then Keith had been appointed as Shiro's second till he was of age, and the prince treated them the same way Shiro had.

“What did Zarkon say about all of this?”

Keith looked over at Ulaz. "He barely said a word, but he let Lotor have his way with Savla. He said it was a warning.”

Thace felt the way Keith’s shoulders slumped. He knew Keith was blaming himself for this. It was something they hadn’t seen coming.

Keith continued, “I’m certain Lotor tortured her for information about what we are doing behind Zarkon’s back.”

“She wouldn’t know anything, she just passed the trials a week ago,” Ulaz reasoned. His fists were clenched. Savla was one of his personal recruits.

“And that makes it worse.” Keith shrugged out of Thace’s grip and crossed his arms. “They wouldn’t have gotten anything useful from torturing her, just getting the message across.”

Thace nodded. “Ulaz, go tend to her, Keith and I will determine our next move. If you see Kolivan –”

“I know, Thace. I will tell him.” They shared a look before Ulaz left the room.

Thace turned his attention back to Keith. He was wrapped up in his own head. This was something Keith knew could happen from the beginning. Kolivan had approached both him and Shiro about acting against the Empire in secret. That had been roughly a year after the war. Keith had agreed right away, wanting to get back at Zarkon and the rest of the royal family for making his life a living hell. Shiro had been hesitant. He knew the ramifications, knew how treason was dealt with in this country.

There was no chance of you being disloyal again if you were dead.

“Keith, it will be alright,” Thace reassured. “Emperor Zarkon won’t find out about what we’ve done.”

Keith nodded absentmindedly. “That’s the hope.”

Silence fell over them. Thace could reassure Keith for the rest of the evening, but Keith wouldn't feel any different. He missed Shiro, he still looked for his friend's guidance when Kolivan asked for his decision. He knew he did the right thing by getting Shiro out of the country. He had been miserable and the whole time after the war. Zarkon had placed him as head of all the slave operations for the empire. Shiro never agreed with it, but the Empire couldn't afford to pay its workers. So it turned to the people who couldn't pay their debts and took them.

“Do you think Shiro is happy?”

Thace blinked at Keith. The prince was closed off, arms crossed and head down. He reminded Thace of the small boy he was when Keith was first brought to the castle. Rough around the edges from living in the slums and practically by himself while his mother worked. He was still quick to anger at times, but Keith had grown into his role as best as he could.

“I’m certain that he is.”

Keith nodded, staying quiet. He turned for the door but paused before opening it. “Send a runner if anything changes.”

He walked out.

~~A Month Later~~

There was a rat. Somewhere in their ranks, there was a leak in the tight seal of information they had created.

Keith was dragged in front of the court, barely having gotten the chance to dress himself this morning. The guards were rough, their grips tight on his upper arms. He could feel Amheug’s worry through their bond, and flashes of pain as she tried to fight her way to him. Her screams and roars of rage echoed throughout his head.

He tried to stop the guards, demanding to know what was going on. Servants and slaves alike stared at them as they passed, Keith struggling and the guards' impassive faces tense. The wind had stopped, leaving the palace silent and ominous. No one spoke a word, and their breaths were quiet and withheld.

Something was not right.

The guards tossed him to the ground just before the throne. The rest of the court lined the room, faces shocked and angry as Keith fought to stand. He shoved the guards off, teeth bared in a snarl.

“Enough, Keith.”

Zarkon’s command rang throughout the court, silencing what little noise there was and Keith whirled to face him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Keith growled, formalities thrown to the nonexistent wind.

Zarkon stood from his throne and stepped forward, barely suppressed rage rolling off of him and Dramur.

“You will answer everything I ask of you, son,” he said, looking down on Keith. The prince stood up straight, squaring his shoulders, and met Zarkon’s glare. “This is your trial for treason.”

Keith felt his heart stop in panic, but he forced himself to not show his shock on his face. He would not show weakness before the court. Any sign of it would seal his fate.

“Treason for what.”

Zarkon walked down the steps and didn't stop till he was standing right before Keith. He forgot how imposing his father was, standing nearly head and shoulders above him and damn near twice Keith's width. The Emperor of the Galra Empire was an enormous man, well suited for the war he started with the Alteans, and would start again, the peace treaty be damned.

Zarkon didn’t respond to him, immediately launching into his questioning. “Is it true that the assassin’s guild, the Blades of Marmora, are loyal to you?”

Keith didn’t waver. “Yes.”

“Do they carry out your will throughout the country?” Keith heard the low murmurs of the nobility in the throne room. Dramur’s wings rustled and a low growl filled the room.

The wording of Zarkon's question made him wary of answering. Answering either way was damning for him.

“Yes.”

Zarkon nodded and began to circle him like a bird of prey, circling high in the sky and watching for the signs of its meal on the ground. Keith forced himself to remain tall, even as Lotor sneered at him for the left-hand side of the throne and Prorok was as impassive as ever. Haggar had a wicked smirk on her face. Keith narrowed his eyes at her.

“Is your will the same as mine, your father and emperor of this nation?” Zarkon circled back, facing him once more.

Keith tilted his head up. Amheug had grown quiet, simmering anger permeating between them as Keith took his time answering. Was it worth the fight anymore? He had already told Kolivan to pull the Blades out of the capital as subtly as possible. Savla had been taken back to their headquarters, her healing slow. The leader of the Blades had mention dissent within their ranks, how sides were being taken. Those who were loyal to Kolivan and Keith's leadership, and those who insisted that they followed the crown. Kolivan's will and Keith's own were not the will of Zarkon, they sought to represent the will of the people. The enslavement of their own countrymen and women was the saddest and darkest secret the Empire had.

So how was Keith going to answer? Would he say yes and lie before the court and for Zarkon to ask him more weighted questions? Or was he going to speak the truth and admit to being an advocate for the people and the slaves that corrupt nobility demanded and Zarkon allowed?

Keith didn’t have Shiro to keep him in check, and Thace was standing in the crowd, too far away to be of any use. He wanted so badly for this fight to be over, the lies the deceit, the glances over his shoulder. He had been tired since the war ended, never understanding why Zarkon felt that it was necessary to attack their northern neighbor. His history lessons with Thace had taught him that the Alteans had been willing to agree to trade agreements but Zarkon had refused and launched an all-out attack. Born during it and too young to understand, war had been Keith’s life.

And he was done.

Little one, are you prepared for this? Amheug asked, her voice quiet.

As ready as he was ever going to be.

“My will reflects the will of the Empire,” Keith spoke just as Zarkon opened his mouth. “When I was taken into the palace I had already faced the adversities of what it is like to live as a common citizen, the hardships we forced ourselves to endure in order to survive.” He met Zarkon’s eye, dark eyes lit with an eternal flame. “I refuse to exploit the people for my own gains, I serve them as the third prince of the Galra Empire.”

Zarkon considered him, the royals in the room were hushed and Keith even saw Haggar's smirk drop a fraction. No one had expected this, yet they should have. Keith was the bastard prince of the emperor, after all, known for his trouble-making and hell-raising in the palace. This wasn't something that was out of character for Keith.

“You say you stand for the people,” Zarkon said slowly, each word carrying more weight than the last. “As a prince of this Empire, the people do not concern you.”

Keith bristled. “The people are who make up this country. The Empire is not solely made up of the capital.”

The emperor backhanded him. Keith turned with the force of it and he felt the sting of his cheek splitting open from one of Zarkon’s many rings.

“You insolent brat, do you now know what I have done for you?” Zarkon hissed. “I took you off the streets, gave you the riches of this country and you sneer at my kindness.”

Keith spat a glob of blood on the floor, apparently he bit his cheek when he got hit. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Zarkon had smacked him before.

He lifted his head, eyes on fire. "I never wanted your kindness, your Majesty. You had one of your men kill my mother and abduct me in the middle of the night. You only did this to keep appearances. The whole country knows that I am your illegitimate child."

Zarkon’s nostrils flared with anger. “How dare –”

"How dare I?" Keith laughed, the rush of finally openly denying Zarkon giving him the courage to speak out of turn. "Are you really asking that? I have followed every fucking rule you had in place. You let Lotor run about the castle like a madman with a knife, cutting up whoever irked him. Prorok is allowed to work his men to death and dispose of them, instead of treating them with the respect they earned and the right to not be worked to the bone from their service in the war. You made General Shirogane go through unnecessary rites and passages just to claim that he had earned his spot as a respected general in your army." Keith was breathing heavily, words rushing out of his mouth like a river. He had to say them now before he no longer had the chance.

“You filthy –” Zarkon seethed.

“You are a tyrant, drunk on the power you inherited from the last emperor.” Keith lowered his voice. “You were never fit to rule the Empire.”

Zarkon bared his teeth. He motioned for the guards to grab him again and Keith let them. He said what he needed to say, there was no use resisting whatever punishment Zarkon had in place for him.

“Take him to the dungeons,” he ordered. “I want every piece of information out of him before he loses his head.” He continued to shout commands. Keith’s dragon was to be grounded and locked away. The Blades of Marmora were to be exiled, no longer allowed in the country.

The emperor turned and his cloak swirled with the wind. Keith let the guards drag him away as the court erupted into chaos.

He could take whatever Lotor had to throw at him.

~~The Next Day~~

Amheug roared in rage.

Her little one was in agony. His screams of pain echoed through their bond and she fought the cage she was trapped into to get to him. These puny humans were nothing in her anger, her rider needed her, the little one that she chose wanted her so desperately.

He yelled wordlessly, his pain drove her insane. Why would humans do this to one another, why do they fight, why would family turn on each other? Amheug roared and slammed against the cage again, bending the bars, but they refused to give. She seethed, flames leaking out of her mouth and her teeth were bared at the guards that trained their weapons on her.

Let them hurt her, it was nothing compared to the pain her little one was enduring. And for the sake of the people, he was crowned upon. She didn't understand. Humans were infuriating. She wanted nothing more than to tear them apart. They hurt her little one. They would pay.

Blood tinged the air and her nostrils flared. She reached out through the bond, snarling at the one holding the whip. She curled her mind around her little one, shielding him from the most of it. His mind was weak, his body shivering from the chill, but his resolve was steadfast. Her little one was still with her, she believed that he would make it. She would make sure it.

His body spasmed and she curled tighter, blocking out what she could. Her little one was so tired. This had been happening throughout the night, he needed rest, wanted it so desperately. He craved it and she comforted him as best as she could. This distance between them was intentional, but their bond was strong. Sister had said as much, told her that they would survive as long as they believed in each other.

Amheug could hear questions being shouted at him, and the one with pale hair sneered in her little one's face.

He spat in his brother’s face. “There is nothing to tell you.”

The pale one stood, snarl still in place, but Amheug could smell his fear. He was afraid of her little one. Good. That was the way it was supposed to be. Her little one was to be feared and respected. Amheug growled at the pale one, her fury fueling her little one’s resolve.

You can do this, little one, he cannot break you.

He sent his thanks and locked his mind away. Amheug was still curled around him, she would not leave him while he suffered. She felt him apologize and then he was gone. She yowled in terror and rage, attacking the cage in blind fury.

No, her little one, he was not gone. She still felt their bond, he was alive. She whimpered with relief, but he was separate from her, she could not reach her little one anymore.

~~A Year Later~~

He scratched another mark into the wall of his cell with a pin. Each one represented another day he and Am survived the hell he got them into. For the first few months, Keith had continuously apologized to his dragon, their bond causing them a constant cycle of pain as they tortured Keith and Am in turns.

Then they fell silent, closing each other off for the sake of the other. It had been so long since he had heard his dragon’s voice in his mind, he longed for it at this point. But the both of them agreed that they wouldn’t communicate till Zarkon demanded their lives. A year later and still that order had yet to come.

Keith had a feeling that Lotor had begged Zarkon to let him keep his life, granting the second prince immense pleasure from toying with Keith. He had to begrudgingly accept that Lotor was the one keeping him alive at this point. After the first month of angry answers and silence, Keith had been certain that Zarkon wanted his head on a platter.

It was always the same questions, over and over again. Keith had them memorized at this point.

Did you order the Blades to attack the slave camps?

Are you the one leading the citizen uprisings in Starfall?

Where is the assassins’ guild’s headquarters?

His personal favorites were when they start asking him about Shiro.

Did you launch the attack against General Shirogane’s fort?

Are you responsible for his death?

They even thought to question the legitimacy of Shiro’s death. Keith had Antok’s report tucked away in a random book inside of his library, and unless Zarkon wanted to have the guards search nearly a thousand different tombs, they were never going to find it. It was simply the observation of Shiro’s escape under the cover of smoke and clouds. It also held the basic heading in which Shiro left. Another thing Keith kept locked away in his mind.

Guards passed every few moments, nodding to the one that stood outside Keith’s cell. The underground prison was essentially a cave, dank and completely lacking any warmth.

Keith laid down, back against the pitiful cot he was given to sleep on. Moisture ran down the walls, leaving streaks in the grime the covered them.

A year he has been here. A year.

The guard banged on the bars, making him jump. Keith rolled to his feet, his greasy hair swinging around his face in clumps. He briefly felt Am start as well before she locked herself away.

“Hurry up and eat, traitor.” A tray of food was slid underneath the bars.

He laughed to himself, more of a half-hearted chuckle than a laugh really. The tray held a small bowl of lukewarm broth and a chunk of bread, which was surprisingly not stale for once.

A good way to start the next year.

~~Roughly Two Years Later~~

He still sat here, alive. It had been months since he was dragged out of his cell for questioning, but he wasn’t really complaining. Not like he was ever going to give the Empire the information that it wanted from him. If it hadn’t gotten it in the first few months of his incarceration, it was never going to.

After the second year, Lotor grew bored of Keith. His silence was irritating to the second prince and he much preferred the more vocal prisoners here in the dungeon.

The guards moved him to a lower block, farther away from any entrance that he knew of, and the one that had been posted outside the cell door had been relieved of his boring station. Again, Keith wasn’t much for conversation.

Keith had scars littering his back and chest, some still aching despite months of no new torment. They were mostly scabbed over by now, the fresher ones at least, but the old ones pulled at his skin whenever he moved. The roughness of the outfit he wore didn’t make them feel any better either. Coarse pants and a scratchy wool shirt made it damn near impossible not to itch.

He wouldn’t let that stop him though.

Keith forced himself to stay true to his training schedule as much as possible. Patrols didn’t come near him, and he was practically alone in this block, no prisoners to talk with. He pushed his body as much as he could, but without proper meals, he was still losing muscle mass and strength.

There was a small grate in one corner of his room. He used it as his toilet whenever he had to go. It was locked into the ground, bolted to rock. He gave up a long time ago of trying to get that blasted thing to budge.

So when he heard a voice whispering to him from it, he blew it off and thought that he was being delusional. He was trying to rest, or what constitutes as resting. He couldn’t tell when it was night time or day time this far underground.

“Keith, for fuck’s sake, come here!”

He glared at the grate, considering ignoring it in hopes of it going away, but then a wrench poked its way through the slots.

“If you want to escape, you have to come here.”

Keith rolled his eyes and took the two steps it took to get over there. He crouched and scowled at the person in the tunnel underneath. “Why are you here?”

The person lowered their hood and brilliant blonde hair and blue eyes glared back at him. “Because we need your help.”

Keith pulled a face. Who needed him? He was traitor to his country and home according to the emperor and he has been imprisoned for the past three years. There was no way Kolivan was getting word to him through Thace or Ulaz, he was cut off completely.

“Who’re you and who the fuck is ‘we’? And how do you know my name?”

“I’m a Blade. Kolivan sent me here to tell you he has a plan.” The Blade pushed the wrench through the slots again. Keith took it and eyed her critically. It was the same size as the bolts holding the grate to the floor.

He examined the Blade in the tunnel beneath him. She was pretty, objectively speaking, but definitely worth noticing. He wouldn't have been surprised if she was the most attractive member of the guild. Plenty of suitors there if she was interested. Keith was surprised that she was even here and nearly spotless. The sewers she was standing in was filled with piss and shit from nearly every prisoner on this block – granted that was only a few, but there had been a time when this dungeon had been over capacity. That had been during the war, many times Lotor dragged him down here to show off his latest piece of ‘work'.

So it had been a few years since the prison had been full, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the sewers got cleaned.

It still took the Blades three years to find him though.

“After three years, he finally has a plan?” Keith scoffed. What were the Blades up to? Loafing around? “He’s losing his touch.”

The Blade smirked. “He didn’t have a master thief in his ranks until a month ago.” She pushed a piece of paper through. “That’s the plan. Read it and piss on it once you have it memorized. Be ready in the next two weeks.”

Keith unfolded the paper and read the first few lines. It was definitely Kolivan’s handwriting. He raised an eyebrow at the Blade who had raised her hood again. “Why two weeks?”

“That’s when we are going to release your dragon.”

And then she was gone.

~~2 Weeks Later~~

Just like he read on the paper, Keith waited until the change of shift before he began to work at the gate. It was rustier than hell, but his consistent training made it possible for him to loosen the bolts enough to yank the grate off and slip through. He put it back over the hole, the guards would take longer to notice that he was gone.

He rushed through the tunnels, following the arrows marked on the walls. It must have been the Blade that visited him who had done this. He made the silent reminder to find her and thank her.

The farther he went, the warmer it became. At one point, he almost felt a breeze. Keith stumbled just at being able to smell fresh air for the first time in years.

The tunnels led upwards, bringing him closer to his escape. His blood was singing; it took three years to finally rid him of this place. He could find Shiro. The Blades could take care of themselves. Kolivan was a more than capable leader and Thace was still at the palace as their informant. There was no reason for him to go out of his way to find them.

Daylight was beginning to crash through the grates above his head. He could hear the chaos above him, roars of multiple dragons echoing around the palace. The Blade must have begun. Keith hurried, the notes on the paper flashing through his mind.

“Follow the arrows until one points to the sky. Wait for the signal there.”

Keith groaned, he had been traveling along for what felt close to an hour. He knew he wasn't the tallest person, but these tunnels were had to have been built for children. He was bent over at the waist and his back, thighs, and core were cramping from keeping him moving.

And still the arrows led on. The raging dragon’s above were growing louder and louder the farther he went.  Amheug was silent still, but their bond was flaring with anger each time he heard a giant body crash to the ground. What the hell was going on? Am felt his curiosity and sent back her own, still wordless. He yearned to hear her voice again, but it could wait until they were both free, just like they agreed.

He took another turn and then there was an arrow point to the grate above it.

“Your dragon will roar, then leave the tunnels and the city.”

The commotion above him was still in full swing. He saw people running over the great, some being thrown back. There was a dragon rampaging up there. Would it even be possible to get to Am with that in the way? His memory flashed to the last time he saw a raging dragon. Shion had been a sight to see, standing over Shiro as she incinerated a legion of soldiers in front of him, blood rolling down his face from the slash he just received from an Altean. Normally Shion was a laid back dragon, her size granting her plenty of space, but as soon as Shiro’s blood met the air, Keith swore her eyes changed to the same red as Am’s. Never again had he seen Shion lose herself.

There was a lull in the pandemonium and that’s when he heard her.

Amheug roared, long and deafening. Keith wasted no time scrambling up the ladder and into the blinding sun. Bodies littered the area and the few that were still on their feet were trying to calm the silver dragon on the opposite side of the courtyard. Keith ran, Am was calling for him, pulling him toward her.

He leaned down and grabbed for a sword. He tripped over his feet in his haste, scratching his palms on the ground, but he didn’t let that slow him down as he took off again with one in hand. There was a guard who caught sight of him and set after him. He tackled Keith to the ground. He refused to let this opportunity go to waste. He wriggled and shoved at that guard. Eventually, they rolled and Keith was above him. He didn’t hesitate to knock the guard out with a hard hit to the hard from the pommel of the sword he picked up.

Keith patted the guard down, searching for a pair of keys. Found them! He was sprinting to Am’s cage again, her roars still deafening, but music to his ears. He could see her, her dark red scales that were nearly black, the heat of her gaze as she found him amongst the sporadic movements. She roared again, triumphant in seeing her rider again. Keith could feel her excitement through the bond and he let a smile spread across his face.

Finally, he reached the cage, shoving the key into the lock and opening the gigantic door. The silver dragon across the courtyard was still causing a ruckus, a larger distraction than Am’s noise.

She rushed out of the cage, picking him up in her claws and rising above the city. He could feel her wings beat the air, pushing them higher and higher. Her elation was palpable and Keith was grinning ear to ear. Dragons roared back, he could distinctly hear Thace’s send them off, its ochre scales circling below them and jets of flame keeping other dragons at bay.

No arrows could touch them; they rose to the clouds.

Little one, I am glad to have you back, Am said softly, her wings stilling as they glided above the clouds.

“It’s good to have you back too, beautiful,” he said.

Freedom was officially his favorite feeling.

Chapter Text

Amheug stretched her wings for the first time in two years. Her muscles burned with exertion as they soared high above the clouds. Their paranoia of being followed by the Imperion led them to fly for an hour before Keith gave Am permission to land. She used the wind to ease her wings, heading about north-northeast, towards the small rural towns near the border.

Am spotted a stream and made to land, circling and slowly descending to touch down. On the landing, she stumbled and fell to her side, awkwardly dropping Keith in the process. He rolled out from between her claws and pushed up from his elbows. Keith was on his feet instantly, not even thinking as he saw the water, his throat dry and scratchy.

The cool water washed away some of his weariness and refreshed him, clearing his mind. He took stock of what was around them. He and Am were surrounded by tall grass with a few sparse trees here and there to offer some shade. The sun was high in the sky; their escape having happened in the morning. The Galra heat was beating down on Keith’s back. If he stayed out in the sun for too long, his skin would burn easily – one of the side effects from being imprisoned for nearly three years.

Am rustled her wings and nudged him with her nose. It’s not the only thing, she said. Her mind was focused on counting his ribs, hinting at his malnourishment. His flimsy, stringy hair and hollowed cheeks. She concentrated on how scrawny Keith had become from the lack of food he was given. Despite the training he was able to do, he still lost too much weight and muscle mass, and it was going to be brutal gaining it all back.

“You’re looking no better,” Keith responded. Am hummed in agreement, albeit bitterly. Prison hadn’t treated her any better than it had treated him; she was slimmer than she was three years prior. It reflected his own state of being. They both had work to do.

Keith sighed and ran a hand through his greasy hair, debating on whether he should dunk it in the stream or not. “We should find some food first.”

If they followed the water upstream, they were bound to come across a small town. Galra had very limited water sources and most of its citizens lived on the coasts because of it. Its inventors and engineers created a solution to desalinate the water from the Cygnus Sea and make it drinkable, but the people who farmed for the country congregated around the few freshwater sources the land offered. And the forts they had lining the border were built on natural springs. The rest of the country was made up of dry, arid plains and an encroaching desert. It vastly limited their current resources.

His rebellion and the Blades leaving certainly didn't help either.

Little one, sitting here thinking about the country that has abandoned us will not get us food, Am said, intruding on his thoughts. And you need new clothing, running about in prisoner’s clothing is going to lead the guards to us.

“I know, beautiful. But we need a plan.” Keith leaned over the water, trying to get a picture of what he looked like in the stream. “We need food, we need clothing, and we also need to find Shiro – or the Blades.”

You would prefer to find Shiro above all else, the Blades may be loyal, but they are not the friend that Shiro is.

Keith smiled up at her. She had a point. In the months following Shiro’s escape, Keith had been desperate for Shiro’s company. Not even Am, his own dragon, could fill the hole that Shiro left in Keith’s life. Thace had noticed, as well as the rest of the palace.

Rumors had Shiro located somewhere in Altea, that much was true. Keith had no idea where he was, what he was doing. The Blades’ spy network could only confirm that he was alive.

He stood and stretched his arms above his head, muscles screaming in protest. The wind shifted and he heard Am sneeze.

Little one, jump in the stream.

Keith laughed but shook his head. He started to walk upstream, enjoying the way the grass felt underneath his feet. "The worse I smell, the more likely someone will give me a fresh set of clothes."

Am groaned and launched herself into the air to glide along above him. If you could smell yourself right now, you would not agree to stay in that clothing.

The exiled prince pulled up his sagging pants, the sword secured in one of the loops pulling them low on his hips. “I don’t want to be in them anyways. I’m well aware that I’ve been wearing these for three years, Am.”

He heard her huff, and they fell into a companionable silence as Keith walked along the stream. The sun climbed higher into the sky, hitting its apex and the heat from the plains matched it. Keith often stopped to drink more water, gulping it down by the mouthful. His hair hung lank around his head, almost clumping together in mats. His legs slowly began to ache the longer he walked, and some of the scars on his back twinged. He knew that for as long as he lived that the scars that Lotor left behind were going to haunt him – not to mention the man himself. The second prince had taken great pleasure in listening to Keith scream himself hoarse from pain.

The thought of some of the horrors Keith had faced in that dungeon made him shiver, the faint impression of blood trickling down his back after a set of fifty lashes. Lotor’s dark laughter still whispered in the back of his mind. Am curled around his mind, blocking out thoughts of Lotor and what had happened. Now that they were reconnected, she had seen what his mind still remembered from their imprisonment. Keith had seen how patches of scales were missing and his temper sharpened into a keen knife, vowing that whoever hurt his dragon was going to pay. Am purred, vowing to do the same to Lotor if they saw him again.

Hours passed and the sun had started to set behind them, the horizon before them darkening to a deep purple – one that reminded them both of Shion. It faded to a vibrant pink to fiery oranges and reds, clouds were streaked above them, breaking up the sky in fluffy wisps of colors. In the distance, Am spotted lights from a small village.

A farmers’ town, she said, they might be willing to house you for a night or two, little one.

Keith picked up his pace slightly, ignoring the burn in his muscles in his haste to rest in a real bed for the first time in three years.

The closer the came to the village the more organized the hills surrounding them became. They were split into different sections, growing a multitude of crops that would help feed the Empire. Pathways crisscrossed in between the hills and soon he was walking on an actual road.

Keith staggered into the village, cats and dogs scattered with alarmed yowls and barks as Am landed. Hunger was gnawing at his stomach and he dragged his feet to the nearest door. He knocked, panting and leaning against the frame with one hand.

A lamp was lit and four small faces were pressed to the window as it was opened. A broad man stood before him, brow furrowed. Am lowered her head to peer at the homeowner as Keith cleared his throat.

“Good evening, you don’t happen to have spare food and a bed, do you?”

The man studied him, taking in Keith’s prison outfit and the stunted war-dragon behind him. “Where have you come from?”

Keith winced. He hadn’t thought this through. He lowered his head to study his bare feet, noticing the two more sets of eyes peering around the man in the doorway.

“I…”

“Look at me, boy.”

Keith snapped his gaze up, meeting the dark brown eyes of the farmer. His brows were still scrunched together, but the frown on his face was out of concern rather than suspicion.

“You’re from the capital, aren’t ya?” Keith nodded. “Military?” Another nod, Keith could pull of being a soldier. It also explained why he had a dragon.

The man worked his jaw, still considering Keith when a voice rang out behind him. “Dear, who’s at the door?”

Keith flinched at the sudden noise, Am hummed comfortingly behind him. She kept his mind from shutting down, gently pushing him to still pay attention, no matter how much the instincts he built over the years told him to lock himself away.

A willowy woman with a head of graying hair stepped up from behind the man and looked down at Keith. She was easily a head taller than her husband and a scar traced its way from her temple to the corner of her jaw – an axe swing.

“He’s an escaped soldier, Ro.”

Keith looked between the man and the woman, trying to gauge their reactions. The man still looked concerned but his wife was pinning him down with her eyes alone. They were gray, the color light enough to remind him of the clouds proceeding a storm.

After what felt like an eternity of staring back and forth between them, the woman finally nodded. “Let him in, dear. He needs a decent meal for once in his life.”

Keith sagged with relief. The man opened the door further and let Keith shuffle past. Four children scurried away from the door and into the next room, peering around the corner to stare at him. The woman waved him in from the kitchen but Keith didn’t really need much prompting. The smell of fresh food was hypnotizing and mouthwatering. The kitchen held a small table off to the side and away from the wood burning stove.

The man followed behind him and gently nudged him to the table where Keith sat and waited for the food. The farmer sat next to him just as his wife carried over three bowls of porridge and small cups of water.

“Don’t eat too fast, you’ll get sick,” she warned as she set the bowl and spoon in front of Keith.

He mumbled his thanks and started to eat, taking increasingly bigger and bigger bites. Despite it being only plain porridge, Keith nearly moaned from having warm food. His body welcomed it, letting the heat bloom from his gut all throughout his limbs. It was such a vast difference from the constant cold he had been subject to in the dungeons.

The couple before him ate in silence, and in the time it took them to eat half of their meal, Keith was already finished. He thought about asking for a possible second bowl but immediately thought better of it as the porridge settled in his stomach, heavy and upsetting. He sipped at his water, hoping that the feeling would go away over time.

“Are you a low ranking soldier?” the woman asked.

Keith opened his mouth to deny it but Am growled, reminding him that he couldn’t reveal his heritage. He took another sip of water before answering. “Yes, my dragon’s size didn’t allow me to be anything more than a messenger between battalions.”

His dragon growled again, the slight against her size unappreciated. Keith nudged her out of his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on the people before him with all of her reactions.

“Mm. Sounds about right for the Galra.”

“Rowen –”

She held up a hand. “Don’t Rowen me, Lavo. He's an escaped prisoner flying on a half-starved war-dragon. And a runt no less. I doubt he has the highest opinion of his home country at the moment."

Lavo glared at his wife and shoved a spoonful in his mouth. “We still live in his home country with four children. Do you want the guards at our door?”

"Our village isn't even on the maps, my so-called treasonous views wouldn't even warrant a home visit."

Rowen’s husband rolled his eyes. “You never know that for sure.”

The longer they continued to bicker, the more Keith got the feeling that these people weren’t native to the Empire.

“My Karhu could out fly his dragon the way it is now, war-dragon or not.”

“That still doesn’t –”

“Lavo, it’s fine, the boy hasn’t said anything and he’s fighting to stay awake. The Empire isn’t coming after us.”

Keith was struggling to even keep his eyes open, he could feel his head bobbing up and down as he fought to stay awake, but his body refused to let him stop it.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

“C’mon, boy, let’s get you to a bed. Your dragon is fine with Karhu.” Rowen guided him to his feet. She kept a hand at his back as Keith stumbled through her home. “I can put you in one for the older boy’s room, Sae can sleep with his little brother for a few nights while you get your feet under you.”

Keith nodded sleepily, yawning long and wide. Rowen led him up the stairs and down a hallway. He barely registered the children scurrying out of the way and staring at him openly. Vaguely, he heard Rowen shush them as she opened a door and gestured for him to take the bed. Rowen said something but Keith was too tired to comprehend it. Something about clothes...he would change after he slept – he didn’t think he could get his arms above his head right to take off his shirt.

His body ached, everything felt heavy – thick and slow. Old wounds from torture twinged and his legs felt like they were encased in clay mortar. His eyes fluttered closed and he tipped forward onto the mattress.

Exhaustion took him before he hit the pillow.

When Shiro woke, Lance was already out tending to Shion and Blue. Both dragons had been worried over the captain, as he slept for longer than Reiner had predicted. They theorized that because of Shiro’s age, the healing process was taking longer than it would have at a younger age. Shion seemed to understand and take in what Lance told her, blinking slowly at him. She even went as far as nodding every once and awhile as Lance continued to describe what he and Reiner had done to ensure Shiro’s survival. When he told her that Shiro wasn’t going to be permanently injured, she huffed a warm breath over him before nudging him towards Blue. His dragon had been uncharacteristically silent the whole time, letting Lance speak, but not relaying what Shion was saying.

They had spent one day at Reiner’s hut and while Lance had slept, Blue had gone and fetched the Glacier wood that they had dropped when Rin attacked them. Lance had no doubt that Thorne’s Keep heard of what happened and that it would be a long time before he came back. Shay would understand and send him letter updates, but with his old crew being gone… Thorne was about to change hands and become dangerous territory. There were many there who were hungry for power. Thorne was the prime source of underground dealing, and among the few places in Altea where the guard turned a blind eye to the goings on within its walls. With the mountain passes leading to Thorne’s Keep closed, there was no traffic coming from Nylia and the outpost became a trading outpost for those outrunning the law.

The history of the Keep wasn't pretty and the people inhabiting it were even uglier – especially those who were going to fight to be the top dragon. Needless to say, the people living there permanently were in for a rough few months.

Blue nudged his shoulder. Shay will be fine, so will Rax.

“I know,” Lance replied, absently rubbing his hand over his dragon’s nose. Blue purred lightly and leaned into the touch. “Thorne was never home, but I can’t help but worry about those that live there… the children don’t deserve that.”

Your soft heart is going to get you hurt.

Lance flicked Blue’s nose. “Your heart is just as soft as mine.”

Snow had fallen throughout the night but the heat from the dragons left patches where the forest floor could peek through. Reiner lived in a pretty sparse part of the forest, the trees were thin and it left plenty of room for the weather to fall through the branches above them. For what the trees lacked in density, it was made up in the way sunrise took Lance’s breath away.

A warm orange glow crept over the horizon, broken by the trees and casting long shadows over the snow. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. He was so mesmerized by the sight that he didn’t hear someone walk up.

“I never thought I would see a sunrise this warm outside of the Empire.”

Lance jumped and turned to stare at Shiro. The man looked like he had just walked out of a meeting with the princess – his face relaxed and eyes serene as he watched the sunrise. The only way Lance could tell that he had been injured was from how his pauldron bore a hole right where the arrow had been.

“Should… should you even be walking right now?” he asked.

Shiro shrugged and smiled lightly as Shion came over to sniff him all over for other injuries. “I didn’t have much of a choice. The hermit – Reiner? – they forced me out of their hut. When I turned back around to thank them, the hut was gone.”

Lance frowned and turned to see that Shiro was right. Where Reiner’s hut had been, was a mound of snow perfectly undisturbed. The Olkari was long gone, more than likely never to be seen again.

“That damned hermit…”

“Lance.”

Lance looked over at Shiro with a raised eyebrow. “What? They weren’t exactly someone I would like to stick around, but they could have been nicer about helping us.”

Shiro looked at him like his father would – a mix between exasperation, unimpressed, and a touch of fondness.

“Shiro, you didn’t even have a full conversation with them. They were confusing as hell!”

Shiro dismissed it swiftly. “Right. Did you get the wood from your old base? It wasn’t with my things when I woke up.” Back to the usual business, Lance mused.

Lance pointed at Shion’s saddle bags. “Blue grabbed them last night and I put them there. Don’t have space with my setup.”

“You should do something about that. We may be on longer missions than this before too long.” Shiro ran his hands over Shion as he walked back to her shoulder.

Lance rolled his eyes and swung up into Blue’s saddle and strapped his legs in. “Why do I need to? Your setup has plenty of space for what we both need.”

Shiro climbed up onto Shion and leveled him a look. “And what if we have more than just us on missions?”

“Whoever joins will have saddle bags too,” Lance said simply before Blue launched into the air and headed towards the castle.

Shiro shook his head and Shion took a couple hops before she too was airborne. Blue was already a distant shadow in the sky when she leveled out.

Shiro and Lance landed within the castle courtyard and were immediately surrounded by servants and guards alike. Their trip had taken a full day longer than what they had predicted. They were reassuring everyone that they were fine when the crowd parted and the king and princess strode up to them.

Shiro immediately knelt on the ground. “My King and Princess.”

Lance bowed slightly but did not kneel. He never thought it was necessary, putting yourself in a vulnerable position like that didn’t sit well with him. The king didn’t seem offended though, nodding back to Lance and asking Shiro to rise before he spoke to both of them.

“It is well that you have returned, Captain Shirogane and Sir McClain,” King Alfor welcomed, voice warm and genuine.

“Not a knight, your Grace, just an archer,” Lance said as he raised a finger. “The ‘sir’ isn’t needed.”

He saw Shiro and the princess glare at him out of the corners of his eyes. Who was he to talk back to the king? King Alfor smiled though, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Then what shall I call you?”

Lance smiled easily. “Just Lance is fine.”

“Then, Just Lance, we are glad that you have returned in good health with the captain,” the king laughed. Lance chuckled along with him as the princess stepped around to exam them both.

“You have no new recruits?”

Lance glanced over at Shiro. They both took a deep breath and shook their heads. Allura’s eyes were bright, multiple emotions flitting through her eyes – anger, concern, worry, and then relief. Allura took a deep breath to regulate her emotions, and Lance could see her stepping into her role as soon to be queen.

King Alfor remained neutral behind her, watching them. The team was her endeavor after all.

“The messenger that you sent relayed a message that Shiro was hurt. How bad was the injury?”

“He didn’t stay?” Lance asked incredulously. He was certain that Rolo would help them.

Allura frowned and shook her head. “No, as soon as he relayed the message, he left. Now, tell me about Shiro’s injury.”

Lance winced and looked back at Shiro. The captain rubbed his shoulder and avoided looking at the princess. The archer scratched the back of his neck and looked down. "Yeah, it was a little…" he trailed off. None of the words to describe the situation seemed light enough for a progress report like this, not with everyone surrounding them.

“Recruitment didn’t go as planned,” Shiro finished for him. “They – they weren’t fond of the idea of working for royalty.”

That was a bullshit answer, both Lance and Allura turned to stare at Shiro. The captain wasn’t wrong, but that certainly wasn’t the whole story.

Allura narrowed her eyes. “What exactly happened at Thorne’s Keep?”

The two of them were quiet. Shiro didn’t want to be the one to recount what happened in Thorne’s Forest, especially with the wretched glare Allura was giving them. She’s just asking us to sugarcoat it, isn’t she? Lance said internally. It seemed that whatever the case she was prepared to show her disapproval without batting an eye.

“They weren’t as happy to see me as I thought they would and attacked us,” Lance confessed—might as well get it over with.

Allura’s frown deepened. “What,” she bit out.

Lance took a deep breath and stood up straighter, facing Allura like she was any other general that he worked with during the war. “I left my team roughly a year ago when you started to hire me for jobs. Some of them understood why I made my decision, but the majority were unhappy with it. Those that understood, left and continued on with their lives, while the others remained a team and took jobs from Thorne’s Keep. When we arrived, it was solely the people who held a grudge against me that I thought we could work out.”

“And why –”

Lance held up a hand and interrupted her, “No offense, Princess, but I’d rather not discuss this further until Shiro and I have had some rest. The assignment was hard on both of us.” His eyes felt like they were drooping, threatening to fall completely shut right where he stood. And if he felt this way, Lance was sure that Shiro was feeling the effects ten-fold from the rapid healing the night before.

Allura inhaled sharply. She looked ready for murder and Lance could care less at this point. The nap in Reiner’s chair was nothing close to what he needed to function – not to mention process what the fuck happened in that forest. It wasn’t as if Allura hopped on her dragon and asked the people she estranged to come join them.

“You will report first thing in the morning. Both of you.” For the briefest moment, she allowed herself to soften. “Go get some rest, you look like a dragon trampled you.”

“Feels like it,” Shiro muttered under his breath and Lance had to fight back a snort. Who knew the captain had some spark to him?

Lance bid everyone a good night and made his way to the bathhouse. He felt as if he had a year’s worth of dirt on his skin.

The archer settled himself into the tub of hot water, sighing as the heat melted into all of his sore muscles. It had been a much longer time than he would care to admit since he was last in a situation like that. The tension had locked his body up, making him stiff all over, and while the water helped to relieve some of that, it only managed to take some of the bite off. He was still going to have to stretch before climbing into bed.

Lance sighed and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. Rin’s face flashed before him. Her smile was a bright as the first day he met her, the same day he had recruited her too. She had been young and naive, bright-eyed and quick. But over the years, as she aspired to become so much like him, Rin became ruthless in her search to impress him further and make him fall for her. The girl he found became suspicious of everything, questioning orders, and continuously sought him out.

It wasn’t like Lance disliked Rin. She was a good person, and over all her heart was in the right place...but she was blind to anyone else’s feelings but her own.

A sigh escaped him and Lance blinked his eyes open to stare at the ceiling. With the outcome that happened yesterday, Lance could feel guilt crawling its way through him, the image of Shiro stepping in front of him to take an arrow at nearly point blank range was insanely heroic, but also made him feel that maybe...maybe this wasn’t for him. He couldn’t make split second decisions like Shiro, he wasn’t a brilliant engineer like Pidge or Hunk. He was just an archer with a unique dragon, a pair that should perform more in a traveling show than a military archer brought back from forced retirement.

Blue growled sharply. You are not just an archer, Bright Eyes. The Royal Family would not have asked you to join if they thought that you weren’t an asset.

Lance rolled his head onto one shoulder to look at the bright blue eye staring hard at him through the bathhouse window. He smiled slightly at Blue’s use of his nickname. Bright Eyes. When Lance asked about the name, Blue told him that it was a name to be honored among dragons, having sharp, accurate eyes were essential to a dragon’s survival. Blue had given him the name once Lance had brought down a deer for him from across the ravine back home.

“I’m a hitman, my blue sky,” Lance sighed, “I’m not meant to work as a part of a team.”

Blue growled. You led a team during the war. What makes this any different?

“I’m not the one putting this together, it’s Shiro and the princess.”

Why does that matter? You humans work together all the time. There is always one in every group that feels like this. Bright Eyes, Old General, Fur Lip, and New Dragon Queen would not have asked for your help if they did not think you could not contribute.

Lance laughed, “Shiro isn’t that old, Blue.”

He could be your father.

“Fair enough.” Lance settled and went back to staring at the ceiling, following the grain of each board to its end before doubling back on the next one. He knew Coran requested him personally for this, the Royal Advisor, who had been his archery instructor when he joined the army. He had seen promise in Lance and spoke on his behalf.

No one had any expectations for a fisherman’s son and his dragon. It was already a surprise enough that Lance had a dragon to begin with, normally people from the rural areas passed up the opportunity to receive their own dragon. The cost of traveling to the hatchery and the upkeep was an amount few from those areas could afford. But Blue had been found in the wild and dragons from the wild bond differently than those bred to be bonded. So when Lance and Blue showed up for recruitment, they had been laughed at, he had been laughed at.

“What are you doing here with that wild beast, boy? Don’t you know that he will leave you as soon as mating season rolls around?”

“Your bond is unstable. Go back to the river or sea or wherever you catch your fish, the army will survive without you.”

“Hah, you think you can lead, fisherman? You know nothing about leading warriors to battle.”

Lance clenched hands against the rim of the tub. He trained so hard, fought for his place, and proved every single one of those people wrong. His and Blue’s bond was stronger than most. Mating seasons had come and gone and not once had Blue left his side to chase after a female. Each of the generals acknowledged that Lance had been an important part of the war, his team of Dragon Archers completing the missions that required stealth, precision, and accuracy that the regular ranks didn’t have. Each time something new came up, Lance was dragged before them and was told what to do and how to do it. Without fail, Lance would fire back at them all the flaws in their plan and tell them what he would do with his team, walking out before they had a chance to tell him no.

All of his missions were a success, except for the last one.

That one forced him into becoming a hitman instead of staying with the army.

He slumped in the water, sliding down until the water came up to just below his nose. That mission had been a bad idea from the start. Flying into a city with it unconfirmed if civilians had been cleared to intercept the Blades of Marmora. They flew in from the Wings to try and circumvent the Altean lines while they fought the Galra main forces. Thorne’s Keep was ruled by a duke back then, and the crumbling exterior that it was now was because of Lance’s mistake. He couldn’t have known that the Blades had explosives, poisons, and numerous other weaponry that left the Keep as a shell of its former glory.

That mission had been when Lance had met Shay, struggled to save Rax’s life, all while continuing to keep his team from falling out of the sky. As soon as people began to run from their homes when dragonfire rained down on them, Lance abandoned his post. Blue dumped him on the ground before turning to jump in the air again and kept fighting. He had never been so grateful for Coran teaching him the rudimentaries of first aid, the tourniquets he tied around Rax’s limbs were tight and stopped the bleeding. Shay insisted that she and Rax owed Lance everything, but Lance refused to take any sort of payment besides her business. He was happy enough that there were only casualties during that battle, none of the people reported fatalities or missing persons.

You did your best, Bright Eyes, Blue huffed, clacking his teeth together. That battle still made him antsy. The words from the generals were bad and you acted accordingly.

Lance sat up and ran his hands through his hair, elbows on his knees. “I know it was my best, but that didn’t stop the generals from cutting off us off.”

Thinking about the past will change nothing. It is in the past for a reason.

“...I know.” He chewed his lip and his shoulders slumped. “But I was blindsided just like that time. Another person got hurt because of it.”

Blue rolled his eyes. Clouded Heart has always been like that. She would hold a grudge against anyone who slighted her. You and Old General are no exception.

He looked up and glared at his dragon, fists clenched. “I froze up, Blue! I watched Shiro get shot and as Rolo took out the other members of our team. If I were as good of a person as everyone thought I was, I wouldn’t have let Shiro get hurt!” His eyes welled up and he turned his head to stare angrily at the wall away from the window. “We shouldn’t have had to kill anyone…”

He felt Blue gently prod his mind, wrapping around him like he was sinking into a hot spring. It was comforting, but it made him feel worse. It reminded him that while he was living in comfort, there were so many people struggling or dead because of his mistakes.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have had to kill anyone, but they attacked first. And from what I remember, you said that the world you live in is a kill or be killed world, Lance.”

Lance whipped around to face the door where Shiro stood, a towel wrapped around his waist and prominent muscles and battle scars on full display. Water sloshed around and some of it spilled over the edge of Lance's tub.

“Shiro, I –”

The captain held up a hand and shook his head. “You did nothing wrong. Everything happened very quickly and your reaction time was astounding – as was Rolo’s. You were the first person to shoot back, Lance, not Rolo.” He walked over to the second tub and pulled a lever. Water began to pour out of the pipe sitting at one end of the tub, steaming.

Lance turned away to give Shiro his privacy. “That’s not really the problem.”

Shiro pulled the lever again and the water stopped. “So, what is?”

“Just…” Lance groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling for the umpteenth time that night. “I should have said something – about why I left my old team and warned you and the Princess about what we could be getting into. I never should have hid that.”

“If that’s the case, then why did you fail to mention it?”

The archer chewed his lip and avoided answering. Why didn’t he bring it up? It wasn’t like the team was a blemish on his history – well, now it was, only because only four members remain out of the original ten or so. Him, Rolo, Rowen, and Orbos. They were the legacy of the Dragon Archers from the war.

“I guess it was because I didn’t want anyone to know about the circumstances of my leaving them. I still don’t want people to know.”

Shiro hummed, and Lance heard the water splash slightly as Shiro lowered himself into his tub. "You don't have to tell anyone what you don't want them to know, Lance, but knowing how we might be received could have changed how everything happened yesterday."

“That’s the thing, Shiro, if we are a team, you all should know.” Lance looked over at the captain, noting how Shiro had his head leaned all the way back and his eyes closed. “I need to stop hiding things from everyone.”

There is nothing to be ashamed of, Blue whispered, sensing Lance’s apprehension of opening up to Shiro. Our history makes us different than the rest. But if we are successful and people were to hear your story, they would like it more than hearing about how the New Dragon Queen became a Queen.

Lance huffed at his dragon’s comment, which prompted Shiro to open one eye.

“I’m assuming Blue said something ridiculous again?” he asked.

“No,” Lance responded, shaking his head. “He’s been very… insightful tonight. Almost unusual for him.”

Shiro smirked and closed his eye again. “Shion gets the same way sometimes. When she's not complaining about you or your dragon."

Lance scoffed, “We aren’t that bad.”

"No, you're not, but she's getting used to being surrounded by other dragons constantly again." He paused and relaxed further into the water. "After the war, many soldiers back at my fort refused to fly, or they were sent out to perform other duties. It left the fort without any dragons. Here, about one in ten guards have a dragon of their own. I find it strange that they are in a position to uphold the law and protect the royal family without having a dragon to help."

“It’s not required,” Lance explained. “Helpful, but not required. Most of the men and women who are guards come from families that couldn’t afford to raise and keep a dragon. When they’re young, they’re not nearly as efficient at hunting as they are when they’re older. Meat can be expensive.”

Shiro nodded. "I see. Does that mean that you come from a well-off family?"

Lance examined Shiro from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t want to tell someone about his family’s living conditions if it meant that he was going to be scoffed at. In his first years with the army, he had tried to explain why he was there, but no one believed him or was genuinely interested – not in the same way that Shiro looked now. “We were richer than most, but we still didn’t have the aruan to raise a dragon, let alone seven if we all got one.”

“Oh?” Shiro sounded surprised. Large families must be rare for Galra too, they weren’t that common among Alteans either.

“Yeah. There are five of us children and my parents,” Lance continued. “If we all had a dragon, it would have been chaos and the fish would have been scared off.”

“Fisherman family?”

He grinned. “One of the best from the northern rivers.”

The lapsed into silence, enjoying the other’s company, and letting the water soak into their sore bodies. Blue had since moved away from the window, and occasionally, Lance would see one of Shion’s purple eyes peer in before moving away as well.

“If having a dragon is optional, and many families cannot afford it,” Shiro began, breaking the silence, "then how did you come across Blue? I've never seen a dragon like him from the Altean Hatcheries.”

“That’s because he’s not from a hatchery.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “So where is he from?”

Lance smiled at the memory of finding Blue's egg after chasing off an old and sick dragon. It was no bigger than a wolf, but it was frail. When Lance had come to find the source of the hatchling cries, he brandished his bow and threatened the dragon. It had snarled at him and lunged to snatch up one final hatchling before running away. Blue's egg was the only one left untouched and unhatched from the nest.

“Blue is from the wild, a type of water dragon native to the rivers and lakes in Altea. I was out hunting for my family when I stumbled onto his nest. After I picked his egg up and scared off the scavenger dragon, I went on my way. Not a mile later, I found his mother being eaten by a pack of wolves with her wings broken. She was barely anything more than scales and bones, she must have exhausted herself after laying the eggs and tried to go hunting but fell out of the sky and well…” Lance gestured vaguely with his hands before lowering them back in the water.

Shiro remained quiet, so Lance launched into more stories about him and Blue growing up, giving the captain a better picture about Lance’s family and how they lived. They laughed over some of Blue’s antics, and Lance could hear his dragon grumbling from outside the bathhouse. Each time, Lance and Shiro laughed louder. At the end of the night, Lance was left with a sulking dragon, but ultimately feeling better about the last few days. Shiro had treated him no differently for what happened, or about where he and Blue originated from.

All in all, it was a good night. The morning, however, was a different story.

As soon as Allura walked into the council room, Lance knew that he and Shiro were in for a tongue lashing.

Her eyes could have been on fire with the way they glared at Shiro and Lance.

The princess lowered herself into a chair and steepled her hands. “Explain to me what happened, and why it happened. Immediately.”

Lance and Shiro shared a glance before facing the princess.

“Princess, do you know anything about how my team and I were excommunicated with the military and why Thorne’s Keep is the way it is?” Lance asked tentatively.

She frowned, continuing to glare at them. “A battle took place at the Keep, causing it to fall to the ruins that it is now. Nothing about your team was mentioned in the debriefing I received from the generals."

He figured as much. The Dragon Archers were never a popular subject among the generals, and if they could get away with not mentioning them, they would; never mind the hard work he did to earn their respect.

Lance took a deep breath and steadied himself. “As the generals would have told you, forces were sent to the Keep to cut off an attack from the Blades of Marmora. Only a small squadron was needed, and at the time, General Sendak was attacking another part of the country and the majority of Altean forces were needed to fend him off.”

Shiro stiffened at the mention of the Blades and turned to fully face Lance, but Lance kept his eyes on the princess.

Allura’s frowned deepened, a crease forming between her brows. “What does this have anything to do with what happened at Thorne’s Keep the other day, Lance?”

“Everything, Princess.” He fought down the urge to stop right there, but the princess deserved to know. So did Shiro. “My team was sent there with the knowledge that the Keep had been evacuated and its citizens were residing just outside of Glacier. When we arrived, the citizens were still in their homes and the Blades were dropping some sort of explosive over the Keep. My team never encountered the Blades head on and we were caught unprepared. There were many casualties – injuries that impaired many lives. We managed to fight them off and convince them that the Keep wasn’t worth taking, but the generals did not care for the amount of people we saved. They cared only for the fact that we had people who were hurt and that we failed to capture a Blade. Neither of which were part of the mission details when I received them.”

As Lance spoke, Allura’s expressions varied from shock and anger before settling itself to neutral. Her eyes were still bright with emotions, giving her away. She was to be a queen soon, Lance knew that schooling her emotions did not mean that she didn’t care. Allura was trying her best to be the politician she would have to be once her father stepped down from the throne.

“And because of those events, your team was dismissed and forcibly retired.”

Lance nodded. “Us and many others who weren’t a part of the main forces – they generally were the ones without dragons.”

Allura stared at him for a hard moment. Lance forced himself to remain impassive, but he could feel the tension rising in the room. It mainly stemmed from Allura, though Shiro was simmering next to him, angry at the fact that men and women were forced out of their jobs simply because they were deemed useless. He had seen in the Empire’s army but never to this degree.

Finally, Allura spoke, “I see, please continue.”

Lance took a deep breath and began his story. He told them both how he and his team became hitmen for the country, working with merchants and other upper-class Alteans for money. He told them how most of his cut went back to his family, but slowly over time, the payouts became less and less, and soon enough Lance came to the decision that he needed to work alone rather than with his team to be able to better support his family from afar.

"When I was in the military, most of my pay was sent back to my family, at least two-thirds of it. It was enough to help fund my sibling's schooling and help my mother buy them clothes that fit rather than adding fabric to the hems of their pants and to their sleeves."

“Your team didn’t take the news well, I’m assuming?” Shiro asked.

Lance glanced quickly at him and nodded. "While many know me to be a fisherman's son, they didn't necessarily believe that I came from a large family. Families with more than three children are almost unheard of. It didn't help that Blue is a wild dragon at birth, not one bred for being bonded with a rider. Many felt that I didn't belong in the army and should have stuck to fishing."

“The country of Altea honors your service, and is thankful for what you have continued to do for her, Lance.” Allura smiled at him as he stared openly at her. Not once had he been recognized for what he has done, the simple statement sent his heart soaring.

“Thank you, Princess.”

“You have done many things for this country, you should be recognized for that,” Allura said with a wave of her hand. Lance grinned at her, she still hadn’t stopped smiling. “Anyways, tell us about what happened with your team as you left.”

Lance’s smile dropped away and a grim feeling settled over him. “Rin was my second, she was overly attached to me and took my leaving to heart. From what I could tell after that, things were never good for them afterward. Rin was notorious for trying to take more than her fair portion of the cut. Since she assumed command after me, I believe she was shorting everyone.”

“And eventually, they all blamed you for the way things were, correct?”

He nodded. “Yes. So when Shiro and I arrived at the Keep, not many of them were happy to see me again. They mentioned that jobs were harder to find because I was taking all of the good paying ones, when in actuality, I was mostly taking the ones offered by you and other royalty around the country. The jobs that were offered to us as team were black market deals and were all under the table in comparison.”

Allura nodded and waved for him to continue.

“Once that was all said, Rin became so enraged that she attacked. Shiro knocked me aside and took an arrow to the shoulder.”

“I’m sorry, your Highness,” Shiro added, "but, I don't remember much after that." He hadn't really been contributing much anyways, this was Lance's story, not his.

“It’s fine, Captain Shirogane, I'm just glad that both of you are alive." She smiled quickly at him and returned her attention to Lance. "What happened afterward?"

Lance ran a hand through his hair. “We killed them – Rolo and I. They attacked us and we had little choice. I sent Rolo ahead to relay the message after tying up Shiro’s wound. Then we took off. The castle was too far away to try to get Shiro to a doctor, so we headed to Glacier, but we never made it because Shiro was still losing too much blood.”

He still didn’t know what to say about Reiner, but he gave it his best shot. “We landed and a hermit who claimed to be an Olkari, or a wildling, helped us. They healed Shiro’s shoulder, and once he woke up the next day, they disappeared and we were left in the woods.”

Lance and Shiro stood in silence while Allura took everything in. He fidgeted with his fingers, waiting for Allura to say something, anything.

Allura rose and stepped over to the window. “You both did well, considering the circumstances. There’s nothing we can do at the moment, so get some rest and resume your typical duties. I’ll see the two of you at dinner tonight.”

Both of them released a large gush of air, relaxing now that Allura no longer seemed like she was going to tear them to pieces. They bowed and turned to the door.

“Oh, and Lance?”

The archer turned and faced the princess. “Yes, Princess?”

“I’m sorry for your loss, but never withhold information like that again."

He grinned a little ruefully. There was the reprimand he was more or less expecting from her. “Yes, Princess, it will never happen again.”

Allura nodded and turned back to the window. “Good, now go rest some more, you both still look like a dragon trampled you.”

Chapter Text

There were times where Keith felt like all of this was a dream; the bed, the fresh food… the sense of home. But the other times, he was locked in by this irrational fear that the guards were coming for him. Rowen’s children could walk down the hallway and he would lock up, his body ready to be dragged back down to the torture chamber and be faced with Lotor’s sinister smile. His mind would go blank and it would take him hours to calm down. Am would encourage him gently, reassuring him that everything was fine, that they were free. Yet three years in prison left a shadow over a person.

Keith would catch his reflection in the mirror when he washed himself; dark, sunken-in eyes would meet his gaze, ragged and limp hair hung around his face, supported by a frail, skinny frame. Scars on his thighs and back were a stark reminder, and as a punishment, he had the Empire’s insignia branded on his hip – a sick souvenir from his half-brother. He scowled at the mirror and quickly finished what he was doing.

Rowen and her family were quite welcoming but Keith had this deep, ingrained sense of self-preservation that made him skittish about everyone in the house. Any sudden movement had him flinching and he would always curse himself for it. He knew he was safe, but his body didn’t. None of them would take offense to it though, and for that he was thankful. The second or third day he had been there, he had heard Rowen explaining to her children about why Keith seemed scared.

“Many people have treated Kaivol wrong,” she was saying, “We must be extra kind to him, to remind him that people can still be good. We have to help him forget what happened to him.”

Forget? He couldn’t just forget what he had gone through. He had gone through years of living in horrible conditions, fighting for his sanity by locking away every memory he could about it. But he still remembered. The lashings, being hung up like a trophy kill, the dungeon’s cracked stone flooring, the smell of urine and feces and blood and sweat and vomit. They haunted his nights and even bled into his waking hours. He couldn't forget, wouldn't forget. He had to overcome this. He wasn’t going to let this rule over him like Zarkon. No. He was stronger than this, he hadn’t lived through years of being bullied and frowned down upon, just to… to give up. If Am could overcome her size, then he could overcome this. He wouldn’t let her have a broken rider. She deserved better.

Keith didn't stay much longer than that. He hated the feeling of being irritated, but with the way he was now, he was useless. They didn't say anything outright to him, but he could see it in their eyes, could feel it in the way they interacted with him. It was like he was fragile and for gods' sake, he wasn't! He survived three years of pain and nightmares and loneliness – he wasn’t weak.

He wanted to yell and scream at them over and over again about how he wasn’t a child, he didn’t want to be treated as such. But every time he opened his mouth to say so, he caught himself. Why, he didn’t really know, but in the back of his mind he did: they didn’t deserve his anger. These people were trying to help, and it was unfair to treat them poorly because he was feeling insignificant. He had been raised better than this, Thace would expect more from him. He wouldn't let down the people who had basically raised him.

He had his good days, the days where he was feeling more confident in himself and his body felt healthier. Keith would seek out Rowen for advice, he wanted to know why he was feeling so… so disconnected with himself. There were so many days where he just felt like he was watching himself go through the motions as if he were a spirit. It was such a strange feeling – he could be eating and he wouldn't taste the food or he barely noticed that he was chewing. Many times he would lose himself and just stare off into an entirely different world. He told her about the times where he remembered his dreams and how he was free of his tyrannical family, that he no longer felt like an outcast.

And she listened.

He felt bad for lying to her after she had opened up her home to him and Am, but he didn't want her to know his lineage. He was an exiled prince – it was something that he felt ashamed to admit, so why would he tell Rowen about it? He was a fugitive, that's all he needed to be to her.

So often Keith felt like he was overlooked because he wasn’t a true heir. His mother had been a whore, paid to visit war tents and he was just an unseemly bastard child. Of course, Keith didn't tell her that, his politics and etiquette lessons keeping him from spilling any sensitive information. He was sure she had her doubts about him – anyone would in her position – so he couldn't blame her for the critical look he got when he fumbled with his story or took too long responding to his fake name. But once he was done talking, there was a long pause before she spoke again. 

“Kaivol, what you are feeling is normal.”

Keith huffed and looked out into the fields. “I’m unused to feeling… any of this. I was in control; I miss being in control.”

Rowen patted him gently on the shoulder, her voice gentle, “You’ll get there, it’s best to have patience.”

“But how long will it take?” Keith asked, turning to face her. “I don’t have all the time in the world, I have to get to Altea before the Empire finds me.”

"And you will, but if you go now, you will die before you even get anywhere near Altea. And this isn't to say I don't have faith in you—it simply takes time to restore one's health."

“By the time I’m ready, it will have been too long and the lead that I have to find my friend will be cold.”

Rowen sighed and looked Keith in the eye. “Kaivol, everyone recovers differently from their time in prison, that is all I can tell you. It could take, weeks, months, or even years to feel like yourself again. But you must be patient. Patience yields focus, after all.”

Keith scowled at her and turned back to slump in his chair. Her last phrase reminded him of Shiro and soured his mood further. How dare she say something that Shiro would say? It made him miss his friend all the more. But he couldn’t just leave, he had to get better. Am was in bad shape too, and there was no way flying all over Altea would be good for her. (Not to mention he would need a saddle – that first night after escaping had been painful from her scales rubbing him raw.)

Whether she was amused or saddened by Keith’s reaction, he didn’t know because she launched into a story of her own.

“When I was in the war, there was this one man that I looked up to. He came from rough beginnings and had an unlikely dragon that everyone mocked. He was untrained and undisciplined, but he was the best person you could have by your side.” She sounded almost wistful, like she wanted to see this person again.

Despite himself, he asked, “What was his name?” Damn his curiosity.

Rowen’s lips quirked into a crooked smile. “To be honest, I never knew his true name, only his title. People called him the Blue Archer, for his dragon and his cloak, not to mention the fact that he never bothered to correct anyone about it. Some said it was because of his eyes, too; but he told me that it was mostly because of his dragon.”

“What? Was his dragon blue or something?”

“As blue as the ocean, the lakes, the rivers, the sky that is above us. They were both referred to as Blue and they were quite an interesting pair.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. What was so interesting about a rider and their dragon? All dragons hatched from eggs and chose a rider, that much was the same between Altea and the Galra Empire. “Why were they so interesting?”

“Because Blue’s dragon was a wild dragon.”

His eyes widened. A wild dragon? Weren't they just rumors from Altea?

Rowen continued on, "He would tell this story to new recruits, because it was obvious that his dragon was not from any breeding circles. Water dragons are rare and typically are very wary of human populations. For a long while, before Blue and his dragon, they were thought to be a lost breed. Tamers would be laughed at if they claimed that they saw a water dragon while looking for more dragons to bring to circles and hatcheries."

Keith was enraptured by this person, this enigma. The Blue Archer and his wild dragon. They sounded like they were out of a fairy tale. Rowen’s story drew him in and launched him into its world.

“The Blue Archer was a brilliant rider and archer. He taught himself; everything that he knew, he figured it out on his own.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why? Didn’t he go through basic training?”

Rowen shook her head. “No, the generals sent him packing the first day because they said his dragon was untamed and a risk to everyone else. Wait – scratch that, there was one advisor who thought he was worth being trained.”

“Are wild dragons volatile? If they’re bonded with a rider, wouldn’t that make them like any other dragon?”

“We don’t know,” Rowen said with a shrug. “He’s the first bonded wild dragon the army ever came across. They claimed not being able to predict what they would do. But from what I saw? Blue’s dragon was among the most well-behaved dragons in the army, albeit playful. They both had a hatchling’s heart.”

Keith smiled slightly at that. He remembered when Am had been a hatchling, flitting about everywhere after him, riding on his shoulder for as long as she could. That lasted about a month before she was too big, but it had been fun wrestling with her when she pounced on him and they fell to the floor in a heap.

“When I first met Blue, he was pretty jaded already – you could see it in his eyes; his smile never reached them – but he never really let that get to him. I never really figured out how he was eventually let into the army, but he was there and he was commanding his own squadron, scraping together all the people who didn’t really fit in with the general population. He took them all in and gave them a purpose. All of us were marksmen too, which was strange considering we were all outcasts as well. But he made us a team: The Dragon Archers.”

He had heard of that group, Shiro mentioned that he had fought one of them. They had injured Shion and therefore took out a major pillar of strength for his army.

“Blue told a story of fighting General Takashi Shirogane. He had injured his dragon and that move was able to swing the battle for us, getting the people out and retreating. It was the fewest casualties we ever had coming out of a battle.” Rowen sighed and glanced at Keith. “You should know that it’s considered a taboo for anyone to kill another’s dragon, it goes against our beliefs as Alteans. So what Blue did was the right thing according to many, but there were a few generals who were blood- thirsty and wanted every Galra on the field either killed or dragonless.”

Keith clenched his jaw and swallowed stiffly. There were some who believed the same thing in the Empire, mainly those who lived in the country, away from all of the military rule in the major cities. So he understood, somewhat. Alteans, he was taught, had a very strong bond with their dragons, and many of them treated the bond as something sacred. It was because the dragons chose their riders, as opposed to sitting in front of a clutch for hours, or even days on end, waiting for one to hatch. Dragons were a valuable resource in the Empire and were to never be wasted.

It was the only reason Am was still alive. Being the runt of a clutch, her chances of survival were slim, but she had hatched right away after Keith brushed a hand against her eggshell. Lotor liked to goad him into fights by calling him a bastard runt with a runt dragon. After a week of the name-calling, Keith grew a thicker skin and ignored it. He had to, because the negative thoughts and feelings were hard on Am.

“I… I’m sorry…” he muttered, overcome with feelings, because he knew what it was like to think your dragon was gone and the bond broken. His three years of forcing Am out had been the hardest thing he ever had to do, he would hate to feel the true emptiness that came with losing his dragon.

Rowen’s face softened slightly and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Keith stared at her in disbelief. If only she truly knew who he was. “But I was a part of the war too, I’m just as much at fault as everyone else.” He looked down at the ground. “I don’t – I don’t know how many I’ve killed…”

“Kaivol, we are soldiers. We didn’t have much of a choice but to defend our country.”

“But…but that doesn’t excuse…”

“Kaivol,” Rowen said sternly, her grip tightening slightly. “You are not to blame for this war. Zarkon is, not you, or me, or anyone else, only him.”

If only she knew.

Keith nodded and dropped the subject. Any more talk of the Emperor and he might just break down and tell her everything. And he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t tell her that he was one of the sons of her sworn enemy, he didn’t want to think about what she would do if she knew.

"But back to Blue and his rag-tag team of archers." Rowen changed back to the previous subject. "We did a lot of covert missions. The generals didn't like us because of who we were: the rejects, the troublemakers, you name it and we were it. But Blue gave us this sense of unity, we were loyal to each other and we could have cared less about the rest of the army. So we had missions here and there, nothing really too challenging for us until we met General Shirogane and then the battle for Thorne’s Keep.”

“Thorne’s Keep? Isn’t that some mountain pass to the neighboring country?” Keith’s memory of all the geography for Altea was spotty at best. There was so much diversity, it was like a different world compared to the Empire’s land.

Rowen nodded. “Thorne’s Keep was once a great place to seek refuge from the war, but after the battle there, it’s now the central black market for Altea.”

Keith hadn’t heard about the battle for Thorne’s Keep, he didn’t remember the Empire ever having troops go that far north. They would have had to cross directly through Altea because the Winged Mountains were too dangerous. The terrain would be hard to have foot soldiers cross, and any dragon riders would have too hard of a time navigating the mountains to be of any use. Zarkon may be a greedy ruler, but he knew better than to send his troops to certain death.

"Who did you fight? The Empire didn't send any troops that far north ever."

"Exactly. The battle for Thorne's Keep was a ruse."

His eyes widened with shock. "That doesn't mean that..."

"The Altean army sent us on a false mission," Rowen said bitterly. Her eyes glinted, the anger she still had from all that time ago was simmering under the surface.

"...What did you do?" he asked quietly.

"We went to Thorne's Keep with orders to eradicate the Galra. We were told that the Galra were disguised as citizens. Blue had been eager to prove us as a team that could be easily recognized by the army, he was tired of us sneaking around in the shadows.

"When we got there, we unleashed hell on all of them, not really caring who was a Galra and who wasn't. It was chaos, just so much chaos..."

Rowen paused, visibly reliving her own nightmares. Keith let her work it out, it was the least he could do. She let him figure out his own problems by himself. Am brushed up against his mind, sending waves of comfort. She knew he was struggling with all of this. For him, learning that Altea could be just as corrupt as the Empire was a surprise. For all of what he heard about the country, Altea had been the epitome of happiness, not once had he heard any complaints about the country.

But this? This was something that wouldn't have been tolerated in the Empire's military. They were a ruthless country, devout in their ways, and stubborn enough to see everything through. Yet, you wouldn't find the military sending out a group of soldiers to a town to eradicate the enemy based on a rumor. What was Blue thinking? Why would he take a mission like that? This wasn't the man Rowen had been describing.

Eventually, Rowen came back to the present and picked up her story again. "By the time we realized that there were no Galra in the town, it was too late."

Keith's heart dropped like a stone with her next words.

"There was a scream, and suddenly everything stopped. The fighting, every dragon landed, and all of us just turned... Blue was standing there, looking like he was a demon out of hell. I swear his eyes were glowing, and his dragon was curled around him, hissing and spitting fire. He called all of us off and told us to leave. He stayed behind for a moment, to talk to the people, then he caught up with us in time to lead us back to the base."

"He confronted the generals, I'm guessing?"

Rowen laughed darkly, "They were lucky to still be alive after Blue was done with them. But since Blue was of a lower rank than them, they could do whatever they wanted with us. He refused to discuss it at all with us, he went as far as climbing onto his dragon and flew around for hours before he came back. Only then did he tell us what the generals had decided."

"So..." He almost didn't want to hear what was coming, but he had to know.

"So we were discharged, and left to our own devices," Rowen continued in that same bitter tone as before. "We took it pretty hard, but Blue took it the hardest. The team was his, he created it. And now it was gone, no more recognition, no more income."

Keith felt his blood boil. It was unfair. They were given false information, ordered to attack civilians, how was it okay for them to be discharged like that? They didn't get any pension or benefits, nothing. His heart went out to them, it really did. The Empire prided itself on taking care of its own, and whenever a soldier aged out, they and their family were taken care of. But this? This was asinine. How dare those generals ruin the lives of those who put their lives on the line for their country. "What did all of you do?" Keith asked quietly, biting back his own anger.

"We did what we had to," Rowen answered. "A lot of us wanted to still follow Blue, but even he didn't know what we were all going to do. There were a couple like me who left pretty soon after the army kicked us out, but Blue kept the team going and helped them find a living somehow. Last I heard, he was doing mercenary work around Altea."

An interesting end to an interesting story. Blue was still out there, doing what he did best, despite it being the reason why he was kicked out of the army. Yet, he still couldn’t find the connection.

"So why did you tell me this?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and propping his head up with his fist. "What does this have to do with my recovery? It's just a story about an archer with a fancy name and dragon."

Rowen cuffed him on the back of his head. "Hush you. The Blue Archer is a great man, and one that you want to respect, remember that."

Keith pouted and rubbed the back of his head, but kept quiet. Rowen had a mean slap.

"I told you about him because there are people out there who have gone through what you have: a sudden change in environment. It's hard on people, and what you suffered was much more than what I or anyone else on my team did. And the lesson here is what I said earlier. We all recover at our own pace. I found my place here in this small town that doesn't even appear on any official maps and created a family. Others, like Blue and the rest of the team, took much longer – and to be honest, I don’t even know if they recovered all the way or not. But I want you to keep that in mind the next time you want to whine about it."

Keith watched her stand up and walk back inside her home. He continued to sit on the porch and stare out over the field. In a sense, Rowen was correct, but he felt that if he didn't push himself to get better and to find Shiro, he never will. He had to find Shiro, that was his goal.

Over the next couple of days, Keith slowly became more comfortable around Rowen's family.

But with the good, came the bad.

Within the third week of his stay, nightmares began to plague him. Flashes of Lotor's eyes and smile haunted him. Phantom pain caused him to thrash about in his bed, tangling himself in the blankets. There were many times where Rowen or Lavo had to come running into the room to catch him crying or screaming in his sleep. Half the time they had to wake him so he would stop.

He felt like the progress he had been making was all for naught. It was tossed into the wind as soon as the unforgiving nightmares began.

Am tried her best to comfort him, and after one particularly bad nightmare, Keith had run out to her and spent the rest of the night huddled underneath her wing, tucked into her side. He had been so scared, frightened to the point where he had woken himself screaming Am's name. He had thought she was dead, that he was completely alone. His terror twisted in his chest, yearning for Am’s comfort. The certainty of feeling her beside him was just enough to calm him so he could sleep the rest of the night.

Most of his life had been spent surrounded by those who didn't want him, creating this false sense of family and twisting the knife he knew as loneliness. It was when Amheug had hatched that the ache in his chest had eased, and now, many years later, he could still feel it there, and sometimes it felt like a shadow falling over him, but it wasn’t as prominent as before. Am's warm scales and regular breathing calmed him, bringing him back to reality. That night was the first night he was able to sleep through the dark without a single thought of his imprisonment.

From then on, he took to spending a few hours after sundown with Am to ground himself and remind himself that he wasn't alone. He still had Am, and he would do anything to make sure that they would survive long enough to find Shiro. The nightmares slowed, and Keith was slowly coming back to himself. The night-terrors had taken away his stability and he had to rebuild his foundation.

And on the nights where he struggled, Rowen told him stories. Often times, she would find him huddled in some corner somewhere in her home, dark circles around his eyes, rocking back and forth as the dream continued on in his mind. The stories brought him back by pulling him into a different reality. Soon enough, he began searching her out, feeding off the calmness she emanated. She would comfort him and remind him that it was all right to feel weak during these moments and to push through so he could become strong again.

Am hummed as Keith oiled her scales one day, Your mind is still troubled, Little One.

Keith frowned and continued to rub at a rough patch under her wing. "The nightmares still happen, beautiful. That's something that I can't help."

Ah, have you talked to Bear Rider about them?

"She already knows about them; there's not much she can do until I work it out on my own." He stopped rubbing and moved to the pail of scale oil on the ground, dunking the cloth and wringing it out. "As of right now, I don't really know if I will ever get over it. What Lotor –” Keith hesitated, backtracking. “... what he did was something that I can't get out of my mind."

Am lowered her wing, laying it gently over him. Little One, you must let yourself rest. These night monsters aren't going to go away if you give into them.

Keith raised her wing to peek up at her. "I'm not giving in, I just... It's hard to think through it all." He let her wing droop and wrapped his arms around himself. "Sometimes I can still feel the shackles on my hands and feet... I can feel his gaze on me. It tore me down... and it went on for three years, Am. That's a long time to be kept below ground, beaten, and starved." Too many times he remembered being beaten for hoarding the food he was given. Now he scarfs it all down before anyone can take it away from him.

Her red eyes glittered and she purred comfortingly as Keith fought to keep himself together.

"I thought... After so long I... There was a time that I thought you were actually gone. And what Rowen said the other day about Alteans treating the bond as sacred... the Empire needs to change. We can't be treating dragons – our partners – as tools or cattle. You're a part of us; an important and intrinsic part of us. We need you just as much as you need us."

Little One, change comes with time. Zarkon is not going to live forever.

"But Prorok and Lotor will continue with his beliefs. The Empire will fall if we continue this way."

You cannot change everything, Little One. I admire your heart and your strength to recognize that there is wrong in the world. Am lowered her head and huffed over his hair. He squinted up at the hot air, breathing in the brimstone of her surety. The Empire will see its consequences eventually, but you are free. What happens to the Empire now is none of your concern.

Keith looked down at the ground and sighed. She was right. He couldn't be worrying about this when he needed to find Shiro. It was just like Rowen said, it wasn't his fault that Zarkon decided to fixate on what he didn't have. The Empire's downfall won't be because of him running away.

He looked up at his beautiful, strong dragon, his partner, his soulmate, and smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you, Beautiful."

All will be well, Little One, do not worry.

He reached up and hugged her around her snout, nuzzling her forehead. They stayed that way for a long time, enjoying each other's presence, their comfort. Keith realized that he had to let some things go if he wanted to move on. He couldn't continue to hang on to what happened to him and Am, he had to move past it. Letting it lord over him the way his so-called family had done would get him nowhere. He wanted so badly to go to Thace or Ulaz for advice. Keith wanted to forget, but he didn't think he could.

And for a while, he didn't. Nightmares came and went, many had him waking up in a pool of his own sweat, tears streaming down his face. Despite remaining strong while imprisoned, his will was still fractured. Toward the end of it, Keith was so close to giving up, so close to simply breaking and accepting the fact that he was going to die in that dungeon. If it weren't for the Blades that helped him, if not for Antok, Kolivan, Thace, Ulaz, and that Blade that gave him the tip, he still would be there, eroding away to nothing.

He refused to wallow in that pain any longer. He had to change it and make it his own, not Lotor's or the other guards that tortured him. That pain was his and he would make it fuel him to get back at Lotor and the Empire for putting him in this situation in the first place. He would use it to find Shiro. He would use it to get better, to become stronger than what he was before. He wouldn't let this ruin him.

From the ruins, he would rise.

And rise he would.

Weeks passed, and slowly Keith was finding himself again. Rowen took an immediate liking to him and Am; she cooed over his dragon like some lovesick mother. Am practically glowed each time she did. He knew that they were originally from Altea, the way Rowen talked and her attitude towards the Empire – her story about the Blue Archer was a dead giveaway. Plus, her dragon.

Her dragon sealed the deal.

Karhu was an amazing dragon to look at. He was about as big as Shion – only a few feet shorter, but his size was still impressive. Karhu was a bronze dragon with green hints and bright green eyes. He looked like a glowing sunrise over a forest compared to Am’s red-black, almost demonic coloring. Rowen was smiling up at him like he was the king of a country.

"Big Bear, this is Kaivol,” Rowen was saying, rubbing a hand over Karhu’s snout. “He’s going to be staying with us till he and his dragon are feeling up for another long flight.”

The dragon flicked his eyes over Keith, who was wearing an outfit provided by Rowen's oldest son, Sae, who was only a couple inches shorter than him. The boy was eighteen, only three years younger than Keith, but his eyes made him look older. They were dark and rarely showed emotion, much like his father, and they gave him the feel of one of the slaves Keith and Shiro used to free. It was something Keith noticed after he woke up around midday at lunch the first day.

Karhu huffed and nudged his rider, turning her to face him. Keith stared with wide eyes, his gaze flicking between them as they both looked him over. Rowen sized him up and nodded along with whatever her dragon was saying. “You’re right, Karhu, he’s going to need some fattening up before he’s going anywhere.”

Keith scowled at the woman and her dragon.

“Oh, don’t be a big baby,” Rowen chastised, smirking as she walked over to clap Keith on the shoulder. “You were what? Imprisoned for three or four years? Your body isn’t in the same shape it used to be. Neither is your dragon. Karhu and I can get you in fighting-flying shape in about a month or two.”

Keith frowned. “I don’t have that kind of time.” He had to find Shiro, he couldn’t be spending more time in the Empire away from him – he shouldn’t be, not when he was on the run.

But they were in a town of maybe twenty people at best, and Karhu was the only dragon here. All the other townspeople were farmers and used horses and steers to plow the fields; Rowen and Lavo had figured out a way to have Karhu fly over the fields with a plow. It was ingenious really, Keith had been thoroughly impressed with it.

“Are you looking for someone?” Rowen tilted her head to look at Keith closer.

“Sort of.”

Rowen hummed and tapped her first two fingers on one hand against her lip. “Do you know where to find them?”

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Altea, that’s all I know.” Altea was a large country, larger than the Galra Empire, and Shiro could be anywhere.

Rowen’s face became stony, her demeanor freezing over. “Who do you need to find in that country?”

Keith eyed her warily. What did she have against her own country? “A close friend who escaped before I was imprisoned.”

Her eyes bored into his own, trying to figure out Keith’s motives. He felt that he already told her too much by telling her he was looking for someone in Altea.

Rowen took a deep breath, closing her eyes and centering herself. “Fine, you want to go Altea, that's your business, not mine," she said, "but whatever you do, don't trust the military. They'll throw you out before you even get a chance to swing your sword. Hopefully, your friend figured that out."

If Keith knew Shiro as well as he thought he did, he knew that Shiro wasn't one to let himself get into that situation. The former general had fought his way up the ranks, gifted with an amazing dragon and charismatic personality.  It had allowed him to make his place in the world. After the war, Shiro had closed himself off, becoming more reserved; for months, almost years before he opened up to Keith and told him he didn't want to serve the Emperor anymore. Shiro wouldn't do that to himself.

“He wouldn't do that. He's ex-military like me.”

Rowen eyed him critically. "Hopefully he has a good head on his shoulders then," she sighed and turned back to run her hands over her dragon. "We won't start getting you back into shape until you have recovered some, you need to eat more."

The rest of the day and a few weeks after were spent forcing Keith to relax and eat. He wasn't allowed to do anything, not even feed himself. It made him feel weak and useless, but each time he protested being forbidden from working out or helping cook, he was met with a stern glare from Rowen. He quickly learned that that specific glare meant danger and he was to avoid it. Despite his body being inactive, it screamed for more food by the time each hour rolled around. (Maybe there was some sense in what Rowen was ordering him to do – or lack thereof.) Rowen’s children all watched him with curiosity – well, the younger ones did; Sae didn’t seem to care all that much. He spent most of his time with his father out on the farm, doing what they could without Karhu.

It took a much longer time in Keith’s opinion to start physical work. Even then it was only farm work, it hardly compared to the sword work and strength training he used to do as a prince. He could still remember some of the routines he would do for hours a day.

When he brought it up to Rowen, she shot him down.

“No, your body will not be able to handle the stress of those routines. Do the work Lavo gives you, trust me,” was her response.

Keith had scoffed at her, but she wouldn’t give. So, he trudged back to their barn and did the work he was given.

Turned out Rowen was right. After two hours of labor, Keith was exhausted. Muscles hurt more than ever, everything felt like dead weight. He was just moving things around in their barn, hardly lifting anything, but his body quickly put a stop to even that. his arms ached, his back throbbed, and his legs were cramped to the point where he could barely walk.

And those weren't the only things that were aching. Sweat poured off of him, drenching his clothes and making his hair clump. It ran down his face, the back of his neck, and he felt disgusting.

But was really made him stop was the dizzy spells. They had been intermittent when he started, but after those two hours, he was struggling to even stay on his feet. Next came the headaches. They were blinding, and before he was shooed out of the barn, he had nearly dropped what he was carrying off the edge of the loft. That was when Lavo put his foot down.

Lavo told him to go take a break and Keith happily went. He wanted to see Am anyway.

She was stretched out in a field, sunning herself. Her scales shimmered between dark red and black, the shades of fire on the horizon in the middle of the night. Keith sat on the ground and leaned against her underbelly, letting the warmth of the sun and his dragon melt his overworked muscles.

It has been many flights since you have felt so exhausted, Little One, she rumbled.

“Yeah, it feels like I’ve started all over as a squire,” Keith sighed.

This will be good for you then.

“Just wait, it’ll be your turn soon enough, Beautiful.”

Am’s rumbling laughter vibrated through him, her low chuff-like growls was a sound that he hadn’t heard in a long time. Keith smiled despite how tired he felt.

Am raised her head to ruffle his hair with her hot breath. I have the utmost patience for that day, Little One.

Another month passed and Keith and Am were finally deemed able enough to begin Rowen’s training. The farm work had strengthened Keith’s back and shoulders. It had taken a while, much longer than Keith ever planned, but he felt like his body was beginning to heal finally. Some scars were still left, but they were a grim reminder of what he survived and the hell he endured for three years at Lotor’s hands. He wore them proudly, like the battle wounds that crisscrossed Shiro’s body.

Am had changed the most. Her scales brightened and her mass increased, making her the war-dragon that she had been once again. It was night and day compared to the almost skeletal presence she had been when they had escaped. She was in her glory now, her relief wafted over Keith in waves. He had run to her, hugging her around her neck just behind her head and laughed when she raised him off of the ground.

He was so proud of her. Rowen had asked if Am would be willing to help around the farm. Many of the harnesses that the veteran had crafted were adjustable, making it easy for both Am and Karhu to help. Of course, because she had been bored out of her mind, just eating and lying around, Am immediately agreed.

Rowen used it as an exercise to gauge their level of communication and their bond. At first, Keith had been pretty wary of examining their bond because, after three years of shutting Am out, he had reason to believe that it had weakened. But apparently, that hadn't been the case. In fact, their bond was much stronger than what Rowen had expected.

"Your bond... it behaves like an Altean bond."

Keith was unhooking the harness from around Am's wings when she said this. It caught him off guard. Altean bond? There was a difference between a Galra bonding with a dragon and an Altean? He turned to look at her. "What do you mean? Aren't all bonds the same?"

Rowen made an unsure gesture with her hands. "Yes and no. From what I've seen, Galra soldiers typically have a weak bond with their dragon, it stems from the mentality that dragons are tools rather than partners. An Altean bond is much stronger and far more emotional."

"But shouldn't our bond be weak? We had to shut each other out while we were in prison."

The veteran frowned. "Why would you have to shut each other out? It's nearly impossible to make a bond weak enough to not feel each other."

Keith shrugged and turned back to Am's harness. "We did what we had to do to keep each other safe. The scars I have on my body weren't from war, and the bare patches Am had before weren't either."

Rowen didn't speak for a while, not that Keith was inclined to say any more about it. What he had said was the bare minimum and all he was willing to discuss with anyone but Shiro. He gathered the harness and moved to go hang it up with the others when Rowen placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had to do that to each other," she said, her face a battlefield of emotions, "but you will never have to do that again now that you are free."

Keith blinked at her and nodded slowly, letting what she said wash over him. He forgot that he was free. For so long, he had just been focused on escaping detection by any of the Empire representatives: soldiers, officials, the court, Zarkon. How could he have forgotten that? He escaped, didn't he? Both he and Am. The realization lifted a weight off his shoulders. The responsibilities he had as a prince were no more; he didn't have to fight for approval. All he had to do was make sure he and Am were happy, that was it.

He smiled slightly and went to go hang the harness up. Rowen was still standing there, eyeing Am up and down by the time he came back.

"Does she look okay?" he asked. "I noticed that oiling her scales really helped in regrowing the ones that she lost."

Rowen glanced at him and grinned. "She looks as beautiful as ever, Kaivol. I think it's time that you two start flying again."

Keith fumbled with the harness, hanging it hastily before spinning around to face Rowen. "Wait, really!?"

His new mentor laughed, throwing her head back and let it ring clearly through the barn. "Yes, lad, you'll be able to fly again, but first-" Keith deflated, there was always something. "-You have to make your own saddle."

...was she being serious? Saddles take weeks, if not months, to make! Why does he have to make one?

"You're joking," he deadpanned, all the excitement draining out of him.

She shook her head. "Nope, I'm as serious as Lavo."

Keith groaned, "Why? Saddles take forever."

Rowen nodded, grin still in place. "Exactly, when I was learning to ride Karhu, I had to make my own saddle. It makes you appreciate being able to ride your dragon."

There was no escaping it. Rowen tugged him over to a different portion of the barn. It was full of leather and hides. There was a set of armor hung up on one wall, the one that Karhu went into battle with. It was well worn, scratches covering most of it, yet it still shone.

"Did you have to make your armor too?" he asked, running a hand over the nose piece.

"Oh, that old thing? No, the royal smith made it," Rowen said over her shoulder as she dug through a bin in the corner.

"Why the royal smith?"

"It was only luck that he was the one to make it. During the war, a lot of smiths were working on armor sets for all the dragons. It was simply a chance thing. I only know that it was his because he put his signature on it."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Signature?"

"It's on one of the neck joints. Should be a pair of crossed hammers."

Sure enough, Keith found it on the joint just behind the head. A simple signature that one could just stamp onto the metal. He stepped away and admired it. Am never had a specific set of armor, none of the ones the Empire had on hand would fit her because of her size. But he remembered that Shion wore a set like this. In fact, he could almost see her now, standing proudly in her armor, waiting for Shiro to leap onto her back and fly off into battle. After the war ended with the uneasy peace, Shiro never forced her to wear the armor again, not even while doing border patrols.

"Will Am have to get a set like this?"

Rowen walked over, a set of tools in her hands. "Doubt it. Unless you somehow get roped into the Altean guard, then you should only need a saddle."

Keith nodded absently and took one of the tools in her hands. "So what am I going to do? Make this saddle all by myself or...?"

The veteran plucked the tool out of his hand and went to a work table. "You'll start tomorrow, I can show you the plans that I made for Karhu's saddle so you can have a basis, but other than that, you're on your own for designing the thing. Let me know when you're done and I can help you build it."

She placed all the tools in a line. Keith could tell that he was going to dread this. He was a tactician more than anything, most of the time he would analyze troop movements, or plan covert operations to free slaves. Never had he had to draw something. Thace knew very well that his artist abilities were stunted. Cartography was never his strong suit.

Since it was the end of the day, they didn't spend much more time in the barn. Lavo had been prepping dinner, while Keith and Rowen were out of the house. From the first day, Keith knew that Rowen and Lavo were both great cooks. Rowen tended to go for the higher protein meals with a limited amount of food, but Lavo liked to cover all food groups. Keith wasn't a picky eater, but every time Lavo was the one preparing meals, it was like he was suddenly a starved prisoner all over again.

The next day, Keith sat down with a mountain of papers, scrawled all over with numbers and other pictures that made up each piece of the saddle Rowen had made for Karhu. It made absolutely no sense.

He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in odd places. How was he supposed to figure all of this out? Half of the numbers that were on the papers were illegible, and a good portion of the pictures was smudged. The only thing keeping him from asking Rowen from help was his pride. He was going to do this, he had to. If he could do this, he could fly again, and he would be that much closer to Shiro.

But how was he supposed to do that when he could understand any of these plans?

"Fuck, this is going to be impossible..." he muttered, slamming his forehead on the table so hard that it made all the tools on the table jump and rattle.

From outside he heard Am laugh at him with big chuffs. Are you alright, Little One?

"No, why would I be okay if I can't even understand how to make a fucking saddle?"

Now now, there's no need to get hot under the scales, Little One.

"I'd like to see you try to make a saddle with all those sharp edges of yours."

Am huffed again and sent him an image of the saddle they used to use back at the palace. It was fuzzy, but it was enough of an idea that he could see what the saddle in front of him was supposed to look like.

Is there a flight seat that you can find? That would help you, Little One.

Keith sat up quickly and looked around. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Rowen kept a saddle around for when she had to go over to the other towns for more supplies. (Living in a town populated by twenty people didn't make easy to get many things.)

He scrambled out of his chair and started to search through the barn for something. He was able to find the first few harnesses that Rowen had used as early iterations of the final ones she used for farming. Unfortunately, they weren't much help since they were rigged to let Karhu drag a plow across the fields. He dug a little deeper through the barn, even going as far as to look in the loft.

The only thing he managed to find that was worth his attention was the team picture of Rowen and the rest of the Archers. He could see that Rowen was off to the side, everyone was smiling confidently. His eyes were drawn to the center where a man with the brightest blue eyes Keith had ever seen was smirking. And he was beautiful too – confident, strong, calculating. Keith couldn’t pinpoint the last time someone had stolen his breath away like this. This had to be Blue, the man Rowen told stories about. Another man was standing just behind his shoulder, smirking just like Blue. They appeared close, and even the woman, standing on Blue’s right was standing close to the two of them. Everyone else was that respectful but friendly distance away, but they still looked unified – almost like a family, of all things. Rowen was right, they were a team and they looked out for each other.

And yet, there were still no dragons in the photo.

He picked up and chucked a plank of wood over the edge of the loft in frustration, yelling, "Dammit!"

"What is the problem now, Kaivol?"

Keith peered over the edge and sneered down at Rowen and her knowing grin.

"What do you think?"

Rowen laughed, hand planted on her hips. "I knew you would try to look for an actual saddle, so I hid them around."

"That's fine, I wasn't looking for them anyway," Keith deadpanned and climbed down from the loft.

"Uh-huh."

Keith rolled his eyes and returned to study the documents on the table, like they would do any good in the condition they were in. He cradled his head with both of his hands and sighed. There was no way he was going to get this done in a week.

Vaguely he heard Rowen walk up behind him and look over his shoulder. "Seems like you've made a lot of progress," she mused.

"Fuck off -"

She cuffed him over the head, making him slam his forehead into the table for the umpteenth time today. Damn his temper for getting the better of him.

"Ow! What the -"

"There will be no talk like that in my home, Kaivol." She glared down at him, like any mother would when her children mouthed off.

He ducked his head, mumbling a half-hearted apology.

Rowen huffed over him and reached for one of the documents he had leafed through. From what he could tell it had been a saddle horn maybe, again it was really hard to tell when the lines were smudged all over the page.

"Seems like I didn't take care of these as well as I had thought."

Keith looked up at her. "One would have thought that you would have looked at them before giving them to me."

Rowen raised an eyebrow. "Watch that tone, Kaivol," she warned before turning to the paper again. "Would it help if I refine these for you? I have plenty of charcoal to do so."

"Do what you want, I'm going in for some food," Keith said as he stood up and walked out of the barn.

He squinted into the sunlight, working in the darkness of the barn being of no help at all. He made his way over to the house, following the scent of food. Sae was in the kitchen, cooking lunch. Keith slumped into one of the chairs at the table.

"What are you making, Sae?" he asked, propping his chin on the heel of his hand.

Sae glanced over his shoulder before turning back to his cutting board. "Cold meat," he responded.

Despite Sae being the oldest of Rowen's children, Keith never quite got along with him. The younger three, Wynn, Lora and Ghira, were much more welcoming than Sae was. In fact, he was pretty sure that Ghira, the next oldest, had a crush on him since she would blush and stutter whenever he tried to speak with her. Wynn and Lora were only ten years old and just enjoyed having Keith to climb all over like a tree. It wasn’t necessarily that Sae and Keith argued, more like they tended to avoid each other – or Sae avoid him because Keith didn’t have a reason to hide away from anyone in the family.

"Do you need any help?" Keith ventured when the silence stretched uncomfortably.

Sae nodded his head towards the bag of potatoes on one of the counters. "Those could be peeled."

Keith stood from the table and grabbed one of the knives Sae had placed next to them. He immediately started peeling the potatoes, dropping the skins onto the ground. He would sweep them up later after they were done with everything.

As the both of them worked, the rest of the family slowly trickled into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Keith was cubing the potatoes as Wynn and Lora were giggling over something, whispering behind their hands and glancing between him and Sae. Keith arched an eyebrow at them but didn't say anything. They were ten, he reminded himself.

He moved over to the stove, lighting the wood underneath and stoking it so it would be as hot as possible for the potatoes. It would take a little bit longer, but he was sure the family would appreciate the potatoes being cooked rather than raw. Sae handed him a pan as Keith spooned some animal fat from a jar. He spread it in the pan and let it sizzle for a few minutes before pouring all the cubed potatoes into the pan. The air filled with the sound of the potatoes cooking in the frying pan.

Sae stepped to his other side, looking for a loaf of bread he could slice with for the cold meat. Keith learned not to ask what kind of meat they were eating. Something about knowing whether or not it was a horse or dog made his stomach lurch. Sae moved away with a gentle pat on his shoulder and began to cut up the bread. Keith nodded to him and continued to work the stove, using the spoon to roll the potatoes so all sides would be cooked.

Ghira walked in and squeaked at the sight of Keith and Sae working together over lunch, pouting slightly when she sat next to her sisters. It wasn't like Keith was interested in her, he wasn't going to be staying much longer after he made the saddle for Am. A life of romance was never really an option for him, it was always do this or do that. Leisure time had never really existed for him while he was at the palace; which gave the beginning of living with Rowen a clearer picture now that he thought about it. No wonder he was stir crazy that first month.

Now he had been able to relax for a long while, much longer than he ever thought he would have. He still had that itch to leave and go to find Shiro. And after Rowen’s story of the Blue Archer, Keith almost wanted to go and find him first, that way he’d have someone who knew the country well to help him look.

He had to start planning his trip sooner or later. Rowen’s training wouldn’t take long; Keith still knew how to wield a sword. He was even adept at most of the knife skills that the Blades taught their recruits. (Thace had gotten reprimanded by Kolivan for that, but he still kept teaching Keith.) So it wasn’t as if he was a beginner. He just had to get through making this damned saddle before any of that could happen.

He emptied the frying pan into a bowl and brought it to the table. The younger girls were still giggling behind their hands and Ghira was as quiet as she always was when she was near Keith. Lavo came in, covered in dust from the fields, and soon after, Rowen marched in covered in coal marks.

“Kaivol, you should be able to read those schematics now,” she said as she sat down at the table.

Keith nodded to her. “Thank you. I’m sorry for taking my frustration out on you and the barn.”

She smiled back at him and waved him off.

Everyone sat down at the table and passed the dishes along after serving themselves. Wynn and Lora talked amongst themselves, eyes darting between Keith and Ghira. He knew what they were up to, trying to play matchmakers was a pastime that Thace and Ulaz took great pleasure in when all three of them were lingering in the gardens. They liked to point out all the fair maidens, slaves or court visitors alike and even nodded to the few men that caught their eyes as well. They had done it to get Keith to loosen up and enjoy his free time more, but Keith, being the recluse that he was, only pointed out that he was a third prince and illegitimate child. According to Galra customs, he was almost nonexistent to suitors. He hadn’t wanted anyone anyways, his burden was his own, and he wasn’t going to share it with anyone else. Not even Shiro.

That wasn’t saying Ghira wasn't pretty, objectively, she would make a great wife. From the few times that he had heard her speak, she had her mother's wits and her father's stubbornness. Yet, she was softer around the edges than either of them, not having to live through a long war, the tentative peace allowing her to become an optimist and romantic. He, on the other hand, assumed the worst in people and would rather fight his way through his battles than sit there and talk it out. Keith knew that made for bad practice, but again, he hadn’t been used for much other than a decoration for Zarkon’s throne room.

Regardless of what was going on around him, Keith kept his head down and focused on his food. Over the past few months, Rowen’s family accepted that he wasn’t one for conversation. They didn’t take it personally after Keith had told them that he was just quiet in general. There was a vast difference between the noise this family made during meals and the royal court. At least he wasn’t being coerced into anything with this family, for that he was thankful.

Once he was done eating his fill, Keith stood and began to work on the dishes. The rule of the house was that those who ate were to do the dishes, the one who cooked had already done their share, but since he and Sae had split the work load, he figured he could at least wash the dishes he used.

“You don’t have to do those, Kaivol.”

He looked over his shoulder at Rowen’s oldest. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he responded, shrugging and turning back to the pan he was currently working on.

Sae grabbed his hands out of the water and handed him a towel. “Go work on your saddle, the girls can handle doing the dishes.”

Keith took the towel, not missing the way Sae’s hand lingered a second longer afterward. He tried to push it out of his mind, neither of Rowen's children could afford to take an interest in him. He wouldn't let them. There was a bigger reason for Keith to find Shiro; the general was an integral part of his life and he wasn’t going to lose that. So much had been taken away from him, he wasn’t going to lose Shiro too.

He dried his hand quickly, mumbling his thanks to Sae before leaving the house to go back to the barn. He was going to finish drawing this saddle tonight.

The Quiet One is interesting, Am murmured when he was back in the barn again.

“I don’t wish for this family to regret me leaving, we have already stayed longer than we should have,” Keith replied as he looked over the documents on the work table. Rowen had done what she promised, remarking all of the pages with clear writing and precise measurements. Keith felt bad for yelling at her. “Besides, I’m sure that we have overstayed our welcome more than enough, and Rowen keeping us here is…”

Keith heard Am’s wings rustle. She is what, Little One? Karhu hasn’t spoken of wanting us to leave this family.

Keith shook his head and sat down, focusing on all of the papers. “Never mind, we shouldn’t worry about it, once this is done, we can go find Shiro.”

His dragon huffed and fell silent. She let him work in peace as Keith slowly pieced together an idea of what he would need for a saddle. Something simple, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be needing anything more than a piece of leather between him and Am’s scales.

“Kaivol, wake up.”

Keith groaned and shoved his face further into his arms. Couldn’t they go away? He was fine, he wasn’t needed, his family could do without him.

The same person again shook his shoulder. “Kaivol, you’ve already missed the morning meal and it is almost lunch. You need to get up.”

He wrinkled his nose but forced his eyes open, blinking the dream dust in his eyes.

Sae gave him a few minutes before trying to rush him again. “You must get up, Ma is going to be upset if she doesn’t see you up and working.”

“I was workin’ all nigh’…” Keith yawned, stretching his arms above him. His shoulders were stiff and twinged when he rotated them. Nothing more than just soreness, he could easily work it out later.

The other boy narrowed his eyes at him, for once showing how concerned or irritated he was. “How late were you up last night?”

Keith blinked at him and pointed at the lamp on the work table. “Sometime after that ran out of oil.”

Sae sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Keith yawned again, popping several joints as he stretched. He felt an echo in his mind and smiled at Am doing the same thing, hearing her small roar of pleasure just outside the barn seconds later.

“Come, the midday meal will be cold by the time you are actually moving.” Sae grabbed Keith’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

Keith didn’t protest, he really didn’t want to be moving anyways, his fight was completely gone at the moment. He had been up till almost sunrise getting his saddle designed and measured. Maybe Rowen would take pity on him and let him rest for the whole day.

Am laughed, deep rumbles resonating through Keith’s mind. I am surprised that you would actually want to rest, Little One. You always had to be doing something until now.

Keith looked over his shoulder at his dragon and stuck out his tongue – a rare moment of playfulness that he only showed for Am. His dragon laughed louder, causing Sae to turn and look at her.

“She seems to be in a good mood today,” he remarked, tugging on Keith’s arm again to keep him moving. His feet were dragging and barely making it above the cropped grass. He was so tired

“She got more sleep than I did, of course she would be.”

Sae shook his head and released Keith’s arm when they reached the porch. Rowen was standing in the door way, arms crossed and a stern scowl on her face. Her oldest son continued to walk into the house despite her fearsome expression while Keith slowed to a stop right in front of her.

“So the dead can be raised,” she said, an eyebrow raising. Keith didn’t bother to react; her tone wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Shiro’s when he caught Keith doing something he didn’t approve of. “Is it safe to assume that your work is done?”

Keith nodded, another yawn over taking him as he tried to reply, “It’s done, just need the, uh… mmmnnnnhhhghhhh, just need the materials now.”

Rowen looked unimpressed with how fast Keith had gotten his work done, but nodded none the less. “Good. Get some food and go sleep, we can start assembling it tomorrow.”

He smiled at her, thankful that he wouldn't be responsible for anything today. "Yes, ma’le.”

“Dammit, Kaivol, just call me Rowen, for the last time!” She cuffed him up the side the head lightly, a smile playing at her lips.

Keith laughed slightly and headed inside. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say.”

Not long after Keith had recovered from working throughout the night on his design, Rowen began to coach him through assembling his saddle. He knew it was going to take much longer to make it than he would prefer, but he couldn’t go anywhere long-distance without a saddle. He had minor scarring on the inside of his thighs from when they escaped almost six months ago. It wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat.

Between leather working and mold forming sessions, Rowen began to recondition Keith back into fighting health. To his surprise, it wasn’t nearly as rigorous as she made it out to be. The only thing he could find complaint in was how his endurance had dropped, but after working on the farm for months now, his strength was relatively the same.  When he expressed this to Rowen, she switched up their routine to build up Keith’s endurance, and soon enough it was a regular thing to see Keith awake just before the sun was over the horizon and jogging around the perimeter of the town.

Every other morning, Sae would join, muttering something about his mother making him do this, but more often than not, Keith wasn’t interested in conversation so the two of them ran silently until their route was over.

For a month this went on before it was replaced with full-time saddle work. All the pieces were formed and ready to be attached. Again Keith was forced to sit by and wait while Rowen did it all for him. (She had tested his sewing skills on scrap fabrics and was appalled by Keith’s attempt. Now she wouldn’t let him near the saddle, in order to ensure that it was put together properly.) This went on for nearly a week before Rowen said that the saddle was complete and ready for a test flight.

Keith needed no coaxing after the words left her mouth. He sprinted to the barn just after she finished speaking, his excitement bleeding through the bond and causing Am to dance around in the nearby field where the dragons stayed. It didn’t take long for Keith to get the saddle on her back and before he knew it, the air was rushing around him and he truly felt at peace for the first time since he escaped.

Am loosed a jet of flame in the air, Keith whooping out loud on her back. They were complete, whole again, finding reassurance in the wind that carried them higher and higher into the sky. The sun warmed Keith’s back and Am’s scales glittered. They hadn’t felt this free since before they were forced to join the military, they felt young, ready to tackle their goal of finding Shiro and Shion, to show them how much they had grown since he had left. And they had, despite how stagnant they had thought they were at the beginning, but Am had regained her prowess and even gained a couple of feet in length. Keith had grown into himself more, his shoulders broadening and losing much of the royal layer of fat he had while at the palace. He looked older than he was, his face more solemn, heavy brows making him look far more serious. He finally looked like a man rather than the awkward teenager he knew himself to be. He finally felt at peace within his own skin.

It took hours for either of them to glide down from the clouds and land on the ground, loathe to be tethered to it once more so shortly after they had tasted the sky again.

Rowen was standing in the field, hands on her hips and a proud smile on her face. She beamed at the two of them as Keith walked over to her with Am following shortly after.

“Looks like you won’t be needing any more of my help,” she commented happily.

Keith smiled and ducked his head, slightly embarrassed from his actions. It reminded him of when he was younger and just learning to fly Am. Thace and Ulaz would always have the same expression on their faces when he landed in front of them.

“I want to thank you,” he said, raising his eyes to meet Rowen’s. “For everything that you have done for me and my dragon. We would not have survived our escape if it were not for you or your family. Thank from the bottom of our hearts.” He bowed deeply, showing her his utmost gratitude.

Behind him, he heard Am shift and three great jets of flame shot into the air above them. The scent of brimstone washed over them and Keith straightened to see Rowen wiping tears away.

“R-Rowen?” He reached out to her but she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a tight hug. Keith stiffened in surprise –  she held him there, as close as any mother would. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her and returned the embrace. “Rowen?”

“Kaivol, you are a great man, do not let your past tell you otherwise.”

Keith’s eyes widened. Why would she say something like this? He was an exiled prince, an escaped prisoner, he was nothing in the eyes of his country. Surely it had to be the same in Altea.

“Rowen, I…”

She pulled away, keeping her hands on his shoulders and looked at him, all sorts of emotions dancing in her eyes.

“The Galra may not care who you are, and refugees aren’t welcomed everywhere in Altea, but if you must come back after looking for your friend,” she paused and wiped away another bout of tears. Keith admired that her voice was still strong even with the waves of emotions. “You have a home here.”

He surged forward for another hug and buried his face into her shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.

It had been so long since he had ever felt welcome in a place, even back at the palace he had known that his time there was limited. And for the longest time, he was certain that Zarkon, and his brothers, hoped that he would be amongst the dead by the end of the war. What they hadn’t counted on was Thace, Ulaz, and Shiro being there to guide him through all the muck that was court life and the military. Somehow, Rowen had managed to see that Keith was wandering and lost. She took him in when he was certain that no one else would. Keith dragging himself to her doorstep had been fate, and for once, he was thankful the gods took pity on him.

The next few days were a blur. When the saddle was finished, Keith was given a crash course in surviving out in the wilderness and was taught a few tricks about riding for long distances. Rowen gave him a small crossbow to hunt with, along with three spare knives. Another parting gift was a new set of clothes. Keith remembered seeing Rowen in something similar from the photo of her and the Archers. It was suited for traveling for long periods and colored so that he wouldn't stand out in a crowd if he had to stop and get more supplies.

Even then, the family that had housed him for the better part of a year kept giving. Within the pouches of his new outfit, he found a bag of coin – Altean auran – with a note reading “In case of emergencies, - the Elvar Family”. He wanted to give all this money back, but he knew that they would somehow slip it back into his packs anyway. He smiled at the note and tucked it into a different pocket, one more secure than a belt pouch.

Before he knew it, he was given hugs from everyone in the family.

Lavo was a blubbering mess. Apparently, over the time Keith had been staying with the family, he had grown to be Lavo’s favorite next to Sae. Seeing Keith leave was hard on him, but he knew that Keith had to go, and therefore wasn’t going to stop him.

The twins hugged him from either side, giggling as Keith grunted under their sudden appearance.

“Stay safe, okay?” Wynn demanded, eyes glittering fiercely.

“And make sure to write! We wanna know where you end up with your friend, Kai!” Lora squeezed him extra hard, smiling up at him with a lopsided grin.

Keith laughed and ruffled their hair. “I will, once we find a place to stay,” he said, agreeing to their terms. He was going to miss those two following him around the farm.

Next Ghira approached him. She smiled at him sweetly, rising onto her tiptoes and gently kissing him on the cheek. Keith blushed and gaped at her.

“It’s okay, I know your heart isn’t here with us, Kai,” she said quietly, “but remember, this can always be your home if you want it to be.”

Keith gathered his wits and nodded to her, smiling slightly. “I don’t think I can forget.”

Ghira’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Just remember to write, dummy.”

He chuckled and ruffled her hair just for the hell of it. Like every day before this, Keith could feel his heart wanting him to find a home where he can rest. His wayward soul, lost and yearning for something more permanent. His mind was there to remind him that he had bigger things to worry about than that. It would come, after he felt his responsibilities melt away. Unfortunately, today wasn’t it.

When Ghira stepped away to join her siblings, Sae took her place. They didn’t say anything, simply clasped hands and clapped each other on the back. Sae’s hand lingered when they released each other, but didn’t say anything. They nodded to each other and he walked back to his father.

Rowen lingered behind her family, face hard, trying hard to accept that Keith was determined to travel to Altea and find his friend. Keith knew that she was against the idea, but she was proud of him for his conviction.

Eventually, she stepped up to him, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and bringing their foreheads together.

“You stay safe, or the gods forbid that I’ll come out of retirement and hunt you down, you hear?”

Keith chuckled and nodded. “Of course… ma’le." Rowen snorted and pushed him back, a smile softening her face. Without warning, she shoved something into his chest. He fumbled to catch it. Looking down he saw it was a small book with one page much larger than its contents. Tugging it out he saw that it was the team picture of the Archers. "Rowen, I… I can't take this!"

She shook her head and crossed her arms. “You can, and you will. It’s so you can find him. Tell Blue that I sent you and that you’re looking for a friend. I gave you enough auran to cover his price and some other things if you can’t find food.”

“You know I can never repay you for this.” He couldn’t, this was too much, and they weren’t even his family by blood.

Rowen shrugged. “You could, but it’s a longshot for a pipsqueak like you.”

Keith rolled his eyes at that. It was just like Rowen to rile him up with those comments. (He wasn’t small, just on the slighter side of the average male.) “Oh, really? What price could be so high and mighty that a forcibly retired soldier would demand of an escaped prisoner?”

Rowen’s smirk went deadly. “I might actually attend Emperor Zarkon’s funeral if you can put him in the ground.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Keith was still technically royalty, exiled or bastard, him taking down Zarkon wouldn’t do the Empire any good. Prorok would take the throne, and if he died in the coup de’ tat, then Lotor was next in line. Both full-blooded royalty and loved by the court. Keith was nothing compared to them, just a body used to make Zarkon’s lineage appear strong.

He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Even with that man gone, two more just like him would take his place.”

The grin softened to a normal one, losing the killer edge. “You have a point,” Rowen agreed, “Too bad the third prince was executed for treason, he would have made a better ruler than all three of those pigs before him.”

Keith narrowed his eyes and Lavo shushed his wife. He knew that there was a story crossing the country that he had been executed. He sent a silent prayer to the gods for the poor man who took his stead on the executioner’s block. It must have happened right after he was arrested and dropped into his cell – a time filled with inconsistent memories and moments he would much rather leave be.

Rowen waved Lavo off and turned back to Keith. “Fly safe. Don’t get cocky just because you have a sword and a dragon. Alteans can still rip you apart if you piss ‘em off.”

Am, who had been circling above while Keith was saying goodbyes, landed with a small roar. Keith could feel her getting antsy and how much she wanted to be on her way.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Rowen,” Keith said, gathering himself. He tucked the picture back in the book and stowed it away in one of his pouches. “I really wish that there was some way to repay you, but you’d refuse anything I’d give you. All of you have my utmost thanks. Thank you for letting me stay with you while I recovered and helping me find a place I know I can come back to if I cannot find my friend. May the winds guide you.”

Lavo sniffed loudly and all of the girls started to tear up. Sae and Rowen watched Keith climb onto his dragons, caging their emotions.

“Let the gods guide you, Kaivol,” Rowen called in her last farewell as Keith settled himself into his saddle.

He looked down at them all and saluted, right fist pressed over his heart. Am beat her wings and in the span of a few heart beats, they were airborne and flying off towards the horizon.

“Do you think he’ll be back, Ma?” Sae asked quietly.

Rowen wrapped an arm around her son’s shoulders and dragged him in close. “Knowing that boy? Probably not, he’s too determined not to let anything get in his way.”

“And Blue? Will he help him?”

“Blue’s a wild hatchling at heart, but he knows what the right thing is – it all depends on what Kaivol tells him.”

Chapter Text

Shiro strode into the planning chamber, documents in hand. Guard reports, trading propositions, letters from Nylia, and various other papers were piled high in his arms. He noticed the princess was sitting at the end of the table, studying the map that was spread across it.

"Princess," he greeted, bowing his head. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

She looked up and smiled gently. "I was thinking a few things over; I am not intruding, am I?"

Shiro shook his head and sat down in front of his papers, shuffling them to the side and began to sort them into corresponding piles. "You are welcome to keep me company, Princess," he responded. "I won't be much for conversation considering I have these papers to catch up on from my time traveling with Lance to Thorne's Keep."

Allura nodded and went back to looking at the map as Shiro continued to sort out his work. She was...concerned? It seemed to be the only description of her emotions  when it came to Lance. She was well aware that Lance came from a different upbringing and his past was something of a broken dragon's egg. Pieces were missing, keeping her from putting the whole puzzle together. And while it hadn't posed a problem yet, she had an inkling that it may come up in later planning meetings and missions when generals and other military personnel would be present. She didn't miss the way Lance's face would cloud over at any mention of the generals, much to her confusion. There was something there that was eluding her, something that Lance wasn't being forthright about, and it could very well jeopardize the team.

Shiro's quill was scratching away over the papers, making comments and signing his name on all of them. Allura watched as he steadily made his way through one stack, only to move on to the next one. The room was silent besides the consistent scritch-scritch of Shiro's quill.

After a long moment, Allura spoke up, "Do you believe Lance was telling us the truth?"

The captain's writing paused for a breath before continuing. "I have my suspicions, but I believe that Lance will tell us what we need to know when the time is right."

Allura frowned and shook her head. "I must disagree with you." She stood up from her chair to walk over to the window overlooking the courtyard where she spotted Lance and Blue preparing to leave on a hunting trip. "Lance's omission of information nearly cost you your life, Captain. We cannot afford to lose any more resources during this time."

His quill stopped again, and she heard the light tink of him setting it in his small inkwell. "Princess, are you implying that Lance is trying to undermine the team?"

"Oh no," Allura replied, looking over her shoulder. "I would never suggest that. After the two of you returned from Thorne's Keep, I was surprised to see Lance so torn apart over what transpired. He is a man who values the team, that part I know for certain."

"Then—if I may ask, Princess—what are you suggesting?"

She turned to fully face Shiro, backlit from the window. "He is not telling the full truth. The war years ago was costly, and many men were made into heroes by the power of their feats. Lance has a considerable amount of rapport with folk throughout the entire country of Altea, but what he told you and I the other day suggested that he should have been labeled a miscreant—not the hero nearly everyone claims him to be."

Shiro frowned, brows creasing. The Princess was right, Lance was hiding something, but he couldn't be certain about it all. He had fought the archer once during the war, dealing an injury to Shion that made it impossible for her to join battles for almost two weeks.

He thought back to all of the tactical meetings he attended while a general for the Galra Army. As far as he could remember, there were many missions he ordered and delegated to the Blades of Marmora during his tenure. He couldn't be completely sure that an attack on Thorne's Keep had been ordered. The Keep was deep into Altean territory and surrounded by the Winged Mountains on nearly all sides. It had the tactical advantage on nearly every front.

"Princess, are you asking me if the siege he mentioned was false?" he hedged. He glanced up at her. She was still standing regally in front of the window, the sun shining in and creating a halo around her figure.

"That is exactly what I am asking, Captain." She stepped back to the table, tapping on Thorne's Keep's marker on the map. "You and I both know that Thorne's Keep is nothing but an impenetrable fortress to outside forces. But to those who know the land well enough, the Keep can fall to them. The Winged Mountains are treacherous to travel, even during the summer months in Altea, and there is no conceivable way the Empire could send—let alone sneak in—a legion to take the Keep."

"Even then, the Empire wouldn't have gained any advantage if they had taken it when Lance said they were planning to."

"Yes, my thoughts exactly." Allura straightened and tapped her chin with her fingers. "So, I ask again, why were Lance and his team sent to attack Thorne's Keep?"

Shiro sighed and shook his head. Just when he thought that he knew Lance, the younger man would pull another one over him. "Seems we should ask him that question, Princess."

She nodded. "Send a messenger for him later tonight. He's already left to go hunting."

"I'll do that at midday, Princess."

"Of course. Thank you, Shiro." She smiled at the man who had saved her life only a few years prior and nodded a farewell before leaving the room and the Captain to finish his work.

That night, after the dinner hour was over and many of the palace's inhabitants had retired to their rooms for the night, Lance heard a knock on his door. He opened it to find one of the Royal Guards standing there, shifting from side to side with nerves.

"Yes?" he asked, frowning.

The guard stopped moving and snapped to attention when Lance addressed him. "My lord, the Princess and the Captain would like to speak with you in the planning chamber."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

The guard shook his head. "I was simply sent to tell you to be there immediately after being told. It's a matter of importance was all they said."

"I'll be there shortly, then," Lance responded, turning back to his room to dress more appropriately for a meeting with the Princess. He may challenge authority at times, but meeting with royalty called for some level of competence from him, even in the manner of clothing.

It was strange that he didn't have even a clue of what the Princess and Shiro wanted him for, especially considering that there had been no new information coming from Rolo.

After dressing appropriately, Lance made his way to the meeting chamber and knocked on the door. Faintly from behind it, he heard Allura tell him to come in and he stepped inside.

The sun was setting and the room was lit with a bright orange glow. Allura sat at the head of the table and Shiro was over by the window. Lance smiled at the two of them, attempting to appear carefree and relaxed as he sat down in his normal spot at the table.

"Alright then, so what's this all about?" he asked, tossing one leg over the other and settled into the chair. "And what's all the secrecy about? Aren't we supposed to be sharing information with each other?"

Allura frowned slightly, but she kept her composure in front of him. "Well, that is exactly what we are here for."

Her voice prompted Shiro to turn away from the window and walk over to the table. His face was serious—almost serious. He pulled a seat out and simply leaned on its back. "Lance, you know that I was a general for the Galra."

Lance nodded, still unsure where this was going.

"Then, believe me when I say that I know full well that there was no mission from the Blades of Marmora to Thorne's Keep."

Cold washed over him. The statement hung heavy in the air in front of all of them. Lance stared at them, not seeing them, his mind racing to figure out where he went wrong, how was his cover blown—

Right.

He had explained how his team had been discharged for destroying the Keep.

Dread flowed through him like ice, and he could feel the stipend the princess was paying him drying up; he would have to go back to being a hitman. No more of this noble business, no more pretending that he was a lawful citizen. His heart sank to the floor and he looked away from their openly questioning stares. They were waiting for him to respond, but just the thought of telling them what actually happened hurt too much. His pride had been cut down by that event, dashed to pieces and stomped on. He and his team were made into criminals by the military, and for the longest time, Lance had to avoid any semblance of authority. He still had a bounty on his head.

Allura cleared her throat after minutes passed and Lance has yet to utter a word.

"Master Mc—Lance, for our understanding, could you please tell us what happened?"

Lance looked at her sharply. "And tell you what, exactly?" he all but spat. "The story you hear from me won't be any different from the story the generals in your army told you."

Allura looked slightly taken aback by his sudden venom, but she cleared her throat again and composed herself before speaking. "I... I am aware of what my generals have told me about your... your discharge. But I—"

"We want to know your side," Shiro cut in, looking at Lance sincerely. "Just like the Galra Empire, those who are in power do things to keep themselves in power. What happened is exactly that, you were used for their gain, yes?"

Lance thinned his lips and glowered between the two of them. Why do this now? Why not just let it go like everyone else?

"Lance, you are technically above their rank now, all things considered."

"Sorry, Princess, but that doesn't exactly make me feel better."

She sighed and rubbed her temple, her exhaustion showing through her royally imposed calm. "I understand that this is uncomfortable, it is a black mark on your otherwise golden record as a military member. I can understand that this may be difficult for you—that it will not be easy to talk about. But," she paused, pinning him with a look that mirrored Shiro's, "We want to help. We are a team, and for us to work as a team, we have to know everything."

Lance considered the two of them, gnawing on his bottom lip and thinking it through. Blue was encouraging him from the courtyard, sending him comforting feelings as he relaxed next to Shion and Topaz. He focused on the Captain and the Princess, looking for any sort of reason why he shouldn't tell them everything he knew—the lies, the deceit, the betrayal, the loss of purpose.

Could he just tell them all of that? Everything? Could he bare his soul to them and trust that they wouldn't stomp on it the first chance they get?

There was no guarantee, there was no guarantee for anything in this damned world that they lived in. After the last war was over, they had been promised that they would never see a war again, and now? They were preparing for another one.

Lance slumped into his seat. "Even if I do tell you everything, it won't change a thing. My team is dead, and the generals who put us in that situation to begin with, are still in power and not expendable."

"I never said anything about trying to change anything, Lance."

"Princess, I appreciate the sentiment, but me telling you—either of you—my story, it isn't—it’s not for pity. We followed orders and got burned."

Allura and Shiro were silent as he continued. "What happened was awful, and if I could take it back, I most certainly would. It was tragic, and I claim sole responsibility for the reason why Thorne's Keep looks the way it does now. It was no war zone, it was an attack from my team that nearly leveled a fort that once stood proudly in the mountains, greeting those that traveled from Nylia and beyond."

Lance sighed and rubbed his eyes. Just thinking about it made him weary. Now he just wanted to sleep and forget that any of it ever happened.

"You willingly destroyed Thorne's Keep?" Shiro sounded incredulous.

Lance merely nodded and looked out the windows thinking about it all. Eventually, he spoke, and as much as he didn't want to tell them about his military past, he did. Every single part of it. From how he was denied, and then brought back because he had a skill that was innovative and gave the army an advantage. He told them of how he gathered these people, these outcasts in their own divisions, teaching them what they needed to know, helping them, creating a family with them. All of it. The ups and downs that they struggled through. He smiled ruefully to himself, he missed them, from Orbos to Rowan to Rolo, even Ren. It would take a long time to no longer feel guilty about their fates, whether they were alive or not.

"And then I was given orders to attack Thorne's Keep."

Allura and Shiro were listening aptly, their attention never wavering.

"I told the generals that the Blades of Marmora would never attack Thorne's Keep. It held no tactical advantage for them, it was too deep into Altea and the paths to get there were all treacherous. And yet... they threatened a court-martial if I refused to follow orders. I couldn't deny them because I would lose my income, my team would go back to being outcasts, and I'd be in jail most certainly."

"They forced you to follow through with this mission, despite the evidence you provided against it?" Allura asked, frowning deeply.

"Afraid so, Princess, afraid so."

And Lance continued on, describing how his team went to the Keep and razed it, firing on the fort, causing all sorts of chaos. He was somber, and the tale he told was dark. And once Lance told them of how once he realized that the Blades weren't there, he stopped the whole fight. Blue had roared and spewed a bright flame into the sky—a scorching blue—catching everyone's attention. He told them how he banished his team from the Keep and apologized to the fort. The people were angry, so furious with how Lance destroyed their home.

"After consoling the people, I had my team and I leave and head straight back to the main camp." Lance scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. "I met with the generals and what happened wasn't... it wasn't good."

"You delivered your report?" Shiro asked. Over the time Lance had been talking, he had taken a seat and leaned in Lance's direction.

Lance nodded. "Yeah, I gave them my report and basically demanded an answer for why we were sent to attack a civilian town. All I got in response was: 'No one will ever believe you, Captain, all of us are generals, and you agreed to do this.' Which was a bunch of bullshit—apologies, Princess."

Allura waved him off. "Do not worry over it, continue."

"The generals gave me an ultimatum, one that I really couldn't afford to not take. My whole team could be thrown prison, essentially ruining their lives, all twelve or so of us. Or we walk, take the dishonorable discharge and go." Lance sighed again. "I'm guessing you know which choice I took."

They both nodded.

"So, they blackmailed you," Shiro stated simply, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Yup," Lance chirped sarcastically. "Here I am, still kicking despite those bastards' best shots at me."

Allura stood and walked over to Lance's end of the table. When she was right next to him, she sat down next to him and took one of his hands. "Lance," she began before her voice failed her and she looked down at the ground for a moment. When she raised her eyes to meet his, they were fierce and determined and angry beyond belief. "Lance, I apologize on behalf of my army, my country, and myself personally. What happened to you was nothing short of terrible situations you were forced to endure. You should not have had to go through any of that."

Lance opened his mouth to rebuke her, but she held up a hand and he kept silent.

"I am not saying this out of pity, I am not saying this for you to suddenly trust me. I am saying this because I trust you, and care for you as a person. You are a valuable member to this team, and believe me when I say this, but those generals who tried to slander you, will not get away with that again."

Lance blinked, stunned by the force behind her voice, how sincere she was. Allura meant every word of what she told him, what she promised him.

And... and he believed her.

"Thank you, Princess," he whispered, gently squeezing her hand before pulling it back into his space.

She nodded in return and stood up. "I am glad that we had this discussion, thank you for trusting us, Lance, I guarantee that you will not see that sort of treatment again. But for now, we should retire to our chambers and rest. This will be one of the last few nights we have before we begin to move forward."

Allura nodded once more to Lance and glanced at Shiro before sweeping out of the room, her beautiful yet simple dress billowing behind her as she left. Shiro stood and made to follow her, pausing to clap Lance on the shoulder.

"I would repeat what the Princess said, but I think you get the point." He patted Lance's shoulder and he made to leave again. "Thank you for telling us, Lance, get some rest."

And then he was left alone in the chamber, the sun having gone down, leaving the room dark and cold. Lance shivered once before he stood up and walked out, leaving his story behind, hoping that it would never leave this room.

Hunk and Pidge looked over the glacier wood.

“It’s not much…”

“But we can work with it.”

The two of them nodded to each other and began drawing schematics. Lance tried his best to see what they were working on, peeking over their shoulders, but either Hunk or Pidge would bump him out of the way as they continued to work.

He pouted and slouched in a corner and watched them work, the two completely forgetting that he was there.

“What if we did this?”

Hunk frowned down at Pidge, looking at her drawing. “I don’t know, we could, but wouldn’t that affect the integrity of the wood?”

“It could, but if we do it right, it’ll be an added bonus he won’t have to worry about running out of arrows.”

Lance perked up at that. “I never run out of arrows, have you seen my gear?”

Pidge looked over her shoulder and looked him up and down. “And? You could potentially lose all of them if we go to war again.”

“But we won’t because why else would the Princess and Shiro choose all of us to try and stop the next one?” Lance waved his hand flippantly, ticking off the different reason on each finger. “We have the ex-Galra General, who somehow escaped the Empire without dying and decided that, hey, he wants to spend the rest of his life as a captain. Seriously, the man has intel we wouldn’t be able to dream of. Then we have Hunk, the royal smith, who has an amazing skill set and I’d say smarter than his father. There’s you, Pidge, who is the best-known inventor in Arus, and possibly Altea. Plus, with a small dragon like Kit, you could gather information without even trying. We have me, the best hitman in the country. I still have a bounty on my head because of some of the jobs I have taken over the years.”

Pidge and Hunk glanced at each other before looking back at Lance.

“So, what are you saying, Lance?” Hunk asked, eyebrow quirked.

“What I’m saying, Hunk,” Lance drawled, closing his eyes and crossing his arms again. “Is that with a team like us, there won’t be another war. A few battles here and there, but not a full-on war.”

“You seem oddly confident about that.” Pidge turned back to their work table and began sketching out more ideas.

“And you’re thinking too much like a pessimist, Pidgeon.”

Hunk froze, eyes wide. They darted back and forth between Lance and Pidge. Kit had turned to face Lance, bright green eyes narrowed at the archer.

“Uh, Lance…?”

“Yeah, Hunk?”

“You might want to leave.”

Lance frowned at his friend. “Why would you want me to lea- OW THAT’S HOT!”

Kit had shot a tiny fireball at Lance, singeing all the way through his shirt and to his skin. Lance batted at the tiny flames, quickly putting them out in time to hear one person chuckling as she continued to work.

“Really, Pidge? This was one of my favorite shirts!”

She didn’t even bother to turn around and look, the little monster. “Haha, serves you right for calling me a bird,” she jeered. “Now leave and go change while Hunk and I work on this for you.”

Lance grumbled and looked down at the scorched remains of his shirt. Damn, he always looked good in this one. Now he was going to have to find a tailor in the city and pay for a new one.

Hunk gave him an apologetic look before turning back to what Pidge was working on, face lighting up as she continued to draw out what she was thinking.

Right, so he wasn’t needed at the moment, but that didn't mean he didn't want to know about the new bow they were working on for him. Hunk had made the last one a surprise, a thank you gift for keeping him company when Lance and his crew were at the main campsite for any extended period of time. But now he was here, and in desperate need of a bow because a short bow will only do so much good. He needed a longbow—his longbow—if he wanted to be at his full potential.

Lance left, still mumbling complaints, and made his way back to his room to change. Blue bounded around him as he crossed the courtyard, chattering excitedly about how he managed to get Shion to fly with him.

“Haha, that’s great Blue! Who knew the old girl had it in her to keep up with you.”

She is a powerful flier, Bright Eyes, just as she was in the war.

“That’s not what I meant!” Lance shook his head and squinted at his dragon. “Half that dragons in the country can’t keep up with your energy, bud. She’s a giant war dragon, not a spritely water dragon like you.”

Blue huffed in mock repose, lifting his head regally. That’s because water dragons are the superior breed.

Lance laughed, “And people say I have the big ego, if only they could hear you.”

Where do you think I got it from? Blue blew a stream of smoke over Lance, ruffling his hair.

His rider squawked and desperately fixed his hair while his dragon flopped on the ground, choppy roars filling the courtyard as he laughed.

Lance looked to the skies, looking for some unknown deity to whisk him away from today, but alas, the skies were clear, and the clouds drifted along the wind.

Resigned, he came to the conclusion that today was just going to be a boring day.

Lance returned to the smithy to find the door locked and the forge cold. Odd, considering Hunk and Pidge were working on his bow. It was their only project too, what could they be doing if not working on that? Did the Princess call for a meeting and he missed it?

Somehow Lance doubted that. Princess Allura would send a servant looking for each of them in order to tell them about their next meeting. She was stickler for policy and demanded that everyone be there on time while she would stride in a few minutes later—well, sometimes she would. Royalty, he thought, unpredictable as ever.

Lance frowned at the smithy, testing the door handle just in case it was simply stuck. It wasn’t, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He leaned against the door, listening for his friend and the fiery inventor. Silence was the only thing he could hear from within. Strange. Even then, the door being locked had to be Pidge’s idea because Hunk rarely locked anything up. Hunk may be a worrier, but he trusted the people in the castle, and with Shiro leading the guard, no thief saw the castle as a potential target.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his lock-picking tools. He glanced around, looking for anyone in the immediate area that could possibly come over and inquire about what he was doing.

“Thank you, Hunk, for having the simplest locks ever,” Lance breathed to himself as the door swung open a few seconds later.

He stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him. Despite this being one of his favorite spots to loaf around, it had him a little on edge that Hunk and Pidge were gone, and everything was dark. The smithy was always open, the ceilings had openings to let out the excess hot air from the forge, and Topaz’s scales glittering in the sun.

Yet it was empty.

Lance edged his way through the room, overly cautious. (Later he was sure he was going to laugh at this with Hunk because he knew he was being paranoid.) Tools were hung everywhere, materials lined the walls or were piled on the floor in a corner. Hunk’s smithy was the perfect mix of clutter and organization, everything in its place, but at the same time, Hunk was the only one to know where things were at the drop of a hat.

Trying his best not to disturb anything, Lance made his way around the shop in the dark. It was almost eerie how the place that was usually so happy turned so dark and uneasy. He would really have to work on Hunk getting a lantern or something to brighten the place when it was closed up like this.

A few steps forward and Lance bumped into the work table, rattling some of the tools still on it. He hissed and rubbed his newly aching hip and squinted at the table. Where were those papers? He had a right to know what they were planning right? It was his bow after all.

He peered through the darkness, struggling to see anything of value on the table. He shuffled through the papers, all of them old war schematics for different dragons, a logbook of different sizes and measurements for customers. Lance recognized Old Man Garrett’s handwriting. Hunk’s work wasn’t on this table.

“What did those two do with my bow…”

He set the logbook and papers down and made his way around to another table. Slowly his eyes were adjusting to the dark, making it slightly easier to see. But even with that, it was damned difficult.

The farther he went into the smithy, away from the forge, the dimmer it got. Lance took his time walking through the dark, looking for that one work table Hunk and Pidge were at earlier.

Faintly he heard something slither past and he froze.

“Pidge, I swear to the gods…”

A fireball shot past his ear, singeing his hair and making him flinch out of the way.

"Kit, goddammit!" Lance yelped, holding his ear. The tiny dragon hissed from the corner worktable, mouth glowing, ready for another fireball. "What the fuck are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Pidge?"

The dragon thrashed her tail, growling at him. Lance didn't dare step closer. Kit had pinpoint accuracy—something that he respected from the dragon, but he wasn't going to make himself the target. Nope. That was asking for another shirt to be ruined.

“Seriously, where’s Hunk and Pidge?” Lance hissed back at her. The little thing’s eyes glittered, taking a ready stance on the pages. Fuck, he knew what that meant. “Shhhh!! I only want a peek... Why can't I see what they're working on for me?"

Kit spat smoke at him and growled again, still waiting for him to take another step forward, so she could spew another glob of fire at him. But Lance was smarter than that, he could see the gears turning in the little aerial's head. There was no way this little squeaker was going to get in his way—but… he really couldn't afford a new shirt right now.

He scowled at Pidge’s dragon, pointing a scathing finger at her. “You won this time, but don’t think I won’t find a way to see those plans, Kit.”

The dragon huffed at him, sitting primly on the documents. She chirped smugly as she settled herself.

Lance threw a rude gesture at her as he stalked out of the smithy.

So much for that.

He met Hunk and Pidge on their way from the kitchens.

“Hey, Lance!” Hunk greeted.

Lance huffed and continued walking. He glared at Pidge, who was sporting the same smug look as her dragon. Kit being there to guard his bow schematics was definitely her fault.

“You okay, Lance?”

“No,” he said, still glaring at the tiny inventor. “Her dragon tried to ruin my clothes again.”

“Well, if you weren’t going to snoop around, she wouldn’t have done that,” Pidge retorted with a smirk.

“You and your dragon are little shits,” Lance growled and left the two standing in the hallway, Pidge laughing and Hunk looking concernedly after him.

The next day didn’t prove to be much luckier either.

When Lance approached the smithy in the morning, Kit was posted outside of it, over the door, staring at him with her beady little eyes. He scowled at her and went to the door. Fire rained down on him and he shrieked as he hopped away from the entrance. From inside, he could hear Pidge laughing her ass off. Of course she would be, it was her dragon terrorizing him after all.

He could faintly hear Hunk trying to get her to focus back on what they were doing but it was to no avail. A dull thump came from the smithy and Lance’s scowl deepened further at the mental image of Pidge falling off her chair.

Lance scowled at the door and the miniscule dragon on the roof before walking around to check the windows. From the one in the back, he could see Topaz's scales glittering in the sunlight, the light dancing around on the walls. He checked the roof quickly before hopping in.

He landed a hair’s breadth away from the land dragon’s tail. Topaz picked up his head and eyed Lance, poking him with his tail inquisitively.

“Shhh," Lance whispered, bringing a finger to his lips. He didn't think that Pidge or Hunk had heard him come in, and Kit had lost sight of him when he made his way around. The dragon cocked his head to one side, but huffed smoke at the archer and turned back to the forge.

Lance continued through the smithy, knowing that Pidge and Hunk were working in the back. He could still hear Pidge giggling over her stunt with Kit. Making sure not to rattle any of the tools on the walls, Lance peeked around the corner and looked around.

“What if we added a blade?” Pidge was saying, “There’s bound to be some time that he will get into some trouble with someone and a bow isn’t going to be the best option.”

“He has a set of knives though,” Hunk rationalized. He was standing over the table with a hand covering his mouth as he frowned down at the work table. “The wood has to bend, and having a piece of steel embedded into it will make it form to the steel.”

Pidge glared at the papers, apparently wanting this to work. What was she planning? Lance thought. She grabbed a pencil and made a couple of marks.

“What if we did this? Base the steel in the handle so it becomes more like a double-bladed staff,” she explained, pointing at the marks she just made. “That way the limbs can still hold tension.”

"It might work, we might have to do a test with a short bow, I would feel bad if we gave Lance a bow and it breaks before he can actually use it." Hunk turned and looked at the extra wood he had laying near the back wall. "I think I might have enough wood to test it, but none of it will be as strong as the Glacier wood."

Pidge shrugged. “It’s better than nothing. I may not know or like him as much as you do, but he is a talented archer.”

Lance’s fingernails dug into the corner. He wanted to throttle Pidge for saying that. He had his flaws, but almost anyone who was still alive would contest that he was a wonderful person. He scowled at the inventor from his hiding place and listened to the two of them talk for a few more minutes before deciding that the conversation was boring. It was basically how they would build the test bow. As far as he knew, he would be needed to test it once it was done, not like he was going to be much use for anything else.

He felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down. Kit’s teeth were sunk into the fabric and desperately trying to pull him away from his hiding place. The fact that she hadn’t alerted Pidge to what she was doing told him that this was the dragon’s endeavor and not Pidge’s.

Lance leaned down and plucked the dragon up by the scruff of her neck and brought her to eye-level. Kit looked peeved that she was being manhandled, but was otherwise silent as the two of them stared at each other.

“Listen here, Kit,” he whispered, leaning in close so their noses bumped together. “You don’t tell Pidge I was here, and I’ll leave the smithy alone. I don’t need you ruining any more of my clothes, you tiny lizard.”

Kit narrowed her eyes at him and smoke started to trail out of her nostrils. Lance pulled her away from his face and held her out, waiting for her response. Dragons were able to understand everyone, their brains adapting much like a human would, so much of their thought process would be in the same words that their rider spoke. Hence why they were able to communicate. A pair had the added benefit of being able to share images and feelings through the bond, but for the most part, dragons were very capable of getting their point across if one understood their body language. (In this age, everyone knew about dragon communication.)

So, the longer it Kit took to respond to Lance, the more he knew she was thinking it over. She kept her gaze on him for a long moment before she huffed and looked away.

Lance grinned turned to put her on a shelf, with a small pat on her head. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Kit.”

Kit puffed smoke at him and launched herself off of the shelf to glide over to where Pidge and Hunk were still talking, completely unaware of what had just transpired. Lance watched her land on Pidge's shoulder and the inventor greeted her with a little scratch under her chin. He waited around for a few moments more before deciding that Kit was going to keep her promise and turned to leave.

He patted Topaz on the head, promising to bring him a nice cut of elk the next time he and Blue went hunting and hopped out the window.

Lance spent the day wandering the castle, winking every so often at the occasional servant and guard. It was a casual game he played to occupy himself when he had nothing to do. Most women blushed and giggled in return, while the men would sputter indignantly as he passed. Occasionally he would get the rare male who would grin and wink back at him; those were always something – someone – to remember.

When he was in the military, he rarely had time to himself, most of it being spent with the team, training and such. He would have been training, but he didn’t want to get too used to his short bow before getting a new longbow. It wasn’t because Hunk didn’t do a great job on it, the smith always did excellent work in Lance’s opinion, but each bow is different and the ways a longbow and shortbow differed wasn’t something he wanted to get entrenched in.

Rounding a corner, Lance sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. There has to be something to do, he thought idly to himself. He ran through a mental checklist of things that normally kept him busy. Training was out, he was waiting on his new bow. The flirting was getting boring, he had been doing that ever since he left the smithy this morning, and that was hours ago. Exploring the castle was becoming dull as well. Blue was all taken care of, Lance had already buffed and oiled his dragon's scales twice this week. While he was sure Blue wouldn't say no to another round of special treatment, Lance, for lack of better words, didn't really want to spend the whole day doing something that monotonous.

Hell, even reading one of the books he stashed away in his room sounded dreadfully boring.

There was always bothering Shiro, but the captain was currently in meetings with the Princess. As much as Lance would love to be a fly on that wall, there was no way he was going to risk his life for it. Allura was not a force to be reckoned with.

Another corner, another hallway, and another round of flirting with the castle staff—or he tried to, but Lance didn't have his heart in it. He gave up about half-way down the corridor before he decided that he might as well spend time in the city. Arus was bound to be more interesting than the castle at the moment.

Lance found the fastest route to the courtyard and called Blue, and before he knew it, he was off into the sky.

The last time Lance had been to Arus was when he and Shiro came to recruit Pidge. It was busier than he remembered, it had to be getting close to the late autumn harvest.

Bright Eyes, can I go play with the tiny ones? I want to play with the tiny ones, Blue asked as Lance dismounted and quickly adjusted his riding pants.

“Don’t let any of them get hurt,” Lance replied, straightening up. “You should go hunt too, I should be awhile.”

Blue butted his head against Lance’s shoulder in thanks, humming happily before bouncing off to go play with the children around the fountain. Lance smiled and shook his head. Blue would never lose his hatchling playfulness at this rate – not that Lance wanted him to lose it in the first place.

Lance began to meander his way through the crowded city center and make his way to the marketplace a block over. People passed, cordial nods if they made eye contact. Lance was a normal citizen to them. Without the blue cloak, none of the people knew who he was. He enjoyed it. His fame, he learned, had come as a double edge sword. On the one hand, he was seen as a vigilante that the public feared on some level; on the other, people welcomed him as someone they could trust, a symbol of hope almost. Lance wasn't really a hero who roamed the streets at night to pick off those who had done wrong; Altea’s city guards were typically good at their jobs in that regard.

But Lance saw himself as a veteran of the war, even with his dishonorable discharge. He had survived the war, as had most of his team, but because of one mission, all of the glory they were on their way to receiving was gone. Becoming a team of hitmen—assassins essentially—was the only way most of the team had survived.

Much good that did them anymore. Most, if not all, were dead or somewhere across the country. Rowan and Orbos were the only two that had left right away. They had families and Lance couldn’t fault them for that, he of all people understood why they wanted to leave. Then there was Rolo, who was more wayward than Lance was and hated to settle in one place. The fact that he had spent as much time as he did with the team surprised Lance. He never tried to make it feel like his team was forced to be there, they could walk away at any time.

Lance’s smile tightened as he reminisced about his old team, handing a coin over for a hunk of dried meat and nodding his thanks before continuing his way through the city.

His team was gone, and in its place, he was on a team of four people, five if he counted Allura. Two of which he got along surprisingly well with, and the other two were still warming up to him. In his defense, the Princess was slow to warm up to anyone but Shiro and Hunk. She was only polite to Pidge and Lance out of formality.

Whatever, it wasn’t like Lance cared that much anyway. Shiro was nice, despite being an ex-Galra general. Hunk was one of the few friends Lance had even been capable of keeping in contact with. Pidge he was still figuring out too. The inventor was sharper than most, definitely on the same level as Hunk, if not higher. She was brilliant, and he had to hand it to her, the blade hidden within his bow was an ingenious idea and he couldn’t wait to see the two of them pull it off. He respected her, had tried to joke around with her, but that seemed to have backfired. (He mostly blamed Kit for that.) Yet, he couldn’t say for sure that he liked her or disliked her. That would be something to figure out over time he guessed.

A couple of hours went by and Lance found himself wandering into artist row. His feet had carried him here, subconsciously knowing that he wanted to look at something and escape his thoughts. His heart still felt raw from the loss he, himself had caused.

He passed sculptors, painters, book scribes—almost anything he could imagine. The street was colorful, everyone was smiling and bartering their wares with good-natured jokes. This was a section of the city that was full of life, free of the day-to-day grind of working for an evening meal. Arus was a well-off city, but this far away from the castle, the people were still having to beg for scraps some nights.

As he went farther down the street, he saw more and more people with an increasing number of designs on their skin. Some even glowed in the dimming light. There was a crowd hanging by one of the communal fires in the street, sharing food and conversation. They all laughed at a joke and over them, Lance was able to hear the loud guffaw that he would have to be deaf to miss.

A grin spread on his face. What were the chances that he would be here? Lance walked up and clapped a hand on the man laughing with his head thrown back and wiping a tear from his eye.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Lance said, leaning on the man’s shoulder. “Who would have thought I would find you here, hmm?”

The man held onto his good-natured grin, albeit tightly, and looked at Lance—shock and confusion breaking the smile. "Blue?"

"The one and only." Lance's smile grew at the same pace as the man's before being engulfed in a bone-crushing hug and being spun around.

"Blue! I can't believe yer still aroun'! The hell are ya doin' in Arus anyway?”

“Good to see you too, Orbos—put me down and I'll tell you," Lance wheezed.

Orbos squeezed him again before setting him down on his feet and introducing him to everyone. The people in the circle greeted him with smiles and gratitude for his service, some even thanked him for keeping Orbos alive during the war. Lance laughed along with them, enjoying the company. Orbos kept an arm around him and they told stories back and forth about the war, filling those who asked in on the shenanigans and dangerous situations they got themselves into as a team. Most of their stories came from their times at camps, pulling pranks on one another during their free time—sometimes getting the whole base into a prank war just to liven up the atmosphere. Lance and Orbos had most of them in tears by the time Orbos turned to him and asked him how the team was.

Lance’s smile dropped and he turned his gaze to the street underneath his feet. Orbos knew that look—had only seen it once but it was an image he had never wanted to see again.

“You guys keep the fire goin’, me ‘n Blue will be back later,” he told his friends and turning Lance away. He led him to a shop across the street that had windows plastered with designs and prices.

Opening the door and guiding Lance to one of the waiting seats, he sat him down and pulled a chair across from Lance. “A’ight, Blue, tell me what happened. You don' look righ' not smilin’.”

Lance leaned back and ran his hands through his hair as he shook his head. “It was a shitshow. Ren ran them to the ground and—and… fuck, it wasn't good, Bos."

Orbos looked at him critically, dark eyes looking for his tells. Before, he had hated Orbos for being able to read him, but if it hadn’t been for him, Lance would have never been able to read people at all. He was sure Orbos was seeing the same broken look he had when he had to deliver the news of their termination in the military.

“Walk me through it,” his old teammate said, “Each step, wha' happened to 'em, Blue?"

And he did, every step, and omitting Shiro's involvement by giving him a false name. By now, it was no secret that the Princess was pulling a team together, only their purpose was kept hidden. But Lance told him everything that he could remember; him finding the team after meeting with an informant at the Keep, trying to reason with Ren – which never ended well for anyone, to Shiro taking an arrow for him, and finally to Lance killing most of the team as they fired on him, Shiro, and Rolo.

By the time, Lance was done, he was clenching his hands together, trying to keep them from shaking and suppressing his anger. He had wanted so badly for that to have gone differently, to spare the lives of his teammates. But they chose to follow Ren, to feed on her lies about why he left. And in the end, it was the only outcome they were destined for. Lance just hated that it had to be him to bring an end to it all. That seemed to be the running trend with him. The ending of the Dragon Archers in the military, the end of their group years after the war. And now he was setting out to end the growing strife between two countries.

When would he be able to start something again?

“Blue.” Lance looked up and saw that Orbos had a small smile on his face. “You di’ all tha’ ya’ could, and yer new friend is still alive. Coun’ tha’ as a win.”

“But I killed seven others and their dragons, Bos,” he argued, “How is that a win?”

Orbos leaned back and clasped his hands together, looking at Lance like his father would. “They weren’ yer team when ya wen' to 'em."

“They were my team before, what difference does it make?”

“They were yer team before. When ya left, they were no longer yer team. They were Ren's."

Lance scowled at Orbos’ logic and looked away. He felt like he was being lectured. “Again, what difference does it make, Bos?”

“All the difference. You ha’ no obligation to 'em. You wen' to 'em with an offer n' they threw back in yer face n' attacked you n' yer friend. Ya should be glad Rowan wasn't there, she would ha' torn everyone a new asshole if she heard of the infigh’in’.” Orbos chuckled.

Lance couldn't argue there. Rowan was a force to be reckoned with, just like the princess, and there was no way he would have been able to face her without being injured. "Fair," he muttered.

"Don' act like 'm not wrong, Blue," Orbos wagged a finger at him. "Rowan was a fine warrior, an excellent mam, and she would pu' all o' us in our place if she heard we were bein’ idiots.”

Lance waved a hand at him. “I know, I know, don’t remind me how scary that woman can be.” He shuddered.

“Anyway, you did righ’, Blue, nothin’ else you can do ‘bout it now.”

“I didn’t even get to give them a proper goodbye…” he mumbled, head hanging low.

Orbos bowed his own head and placed a hand over his heart. “By the ancients, may the winds guide ‘em.”

“By the ancients, may the winds guide them,” Lance echoed. He couldn’t bring his hand to his heart though, it hurt too much to try and let the winds carry it with them. His heart wasn’t with them.

Orbos stood, a gleam in his eye. “Come back ta’mara, Blue. I'll ha' somethin' tha'll help with the blues tha' got ya grounded.”

Lance shook his head at the pun and stood to say farewell to his old friend. They brought their foreheads together briefly before Lance was leaving and heading back to the center square.

The next day went much the same way as it did before. Lance woke up and wandered the palace grounds for a few hours before deciding that he would go to the city again. Being surrounded by an empty castle was unsettling, but it was something that couldn't be helped. Lance was used to being surrounded by people. Even when he was living on his own, out at his cabin in the middle of nowhere, he would travel frequently and visit towns and cities, getting to know the people. He needed to be with people, with something, in order to feel sane and grounded. Without them, he felt weightless and lost.

Needless to say, Lance wasted no time heading back to his room to change into his riding gear, minus the cloak and the majority of his weapons. He kept a spare knife or two hidden away on his person just in case. But soon he was walking to the courtyard and calling Blue.

His dragon landed lightly in the middle, yawning and shaking his head. Bright Eyes, why must we depart so early? Is this nothing to do here?

"Nope and Bos wanted us to visit again today anyway," Lance said as he hopped up into the saddle. "Can't keep him waiting till the evening, now can we?"

Blue wriggled before leaping into the air and climbing high enough to clear the spires of the castle, soaring in the morning air as they made their way to the city. The air was crisp, still cool from the night before. The sun would eventually heat and thicken the air till it was uncomfortable.

They landed shortly after taking off, the flight never taking long, and Lance slipped off. He gave Blue a pat on the shoulder before walking towards the craftsmen alleyway. Blue huffed and settled down to sleep as much as he could; the children would exhaust him before Lance would return.

Unlike the night before, the alley was quiet and muted compared to the boisterous and colorful imprint it had left on Lance. Many of the stores and temporary stalls were still closed up, it being far too early to open for the day. Lance walked down the street, hands in his pockets, and shoulders relaxed. It wasn't often that he would meander Arus in the morning. He preferred to linger around when it was past noon when most of the people were awake and walking the streets with him. Stores would be open, people shouting their wares, travelers bargaining their own items for the best price; children would be running in between crowds, shouting and laughing as they played. Seeing Arus as silent as it was, was certainly a change for him.

Before he knew it, he was knocking on the door to Orbos' shop and stepping inside when he found the door unlocked. The lanterns were still lit and a child poked their head out from a room down the hallway.

"Are you Mister Blue?"

Lance smiled and nodded. "That's me, but you can call me Blue. What's your name, young lad?"

The boy stepped out of the room and nearly tackled Lance in a hug. "I can't believe it's really you! Papa always said that you were traveling but then he told us he saw you again last night and we couldn't believe him. Why are you here? Did Papa hire you?"

"Haha, not at all, Lad, just here to visit your father."

"Call me Ango! Papa is this way!" The boy—Ango—took his hand and led him down the hallway and took the first right, the opposite direction from where he came.

Through another two hallways and they burst into the parlor where Orbos was bent over a desk and tracing lines with a quill.

"Papa! Blue is here!" Ango announced.

Lance laughed at the way Orbos jumped, nearly spilling his inkwell all over the design and almost creating a jagged mark across it. "Apologies, Bos, but did we happen to catch you off guard?"

Orbos scowled at them as he capped his inkwell and set his quill aside, well away from the design. "Ya were never one t' wait aroun', huh?" he asked.

"You should know me by now, Bos," Lance chuckled, ruffling Ango's hair. "Why wait when you can surprise 'em?"

His former teammate rolled his eyes and stood up, rolling his neck and cracking it. "I hated the philosophy," he muttered.

"You still do, by the looks of it," Lance added.

Orbos waved him off and stepped away from the desk. "Tha's only because ya use it t' get the drop on e'eryone, mostly me."

"Can you blame me though? You give the best reactions!"

Ango tugged on Lance's sleeve, trying for his attention. "You shouldn't tease Papa like that, he doesn't like it."

Lance patted his head and smiled. "Don't worry, your Papa makes an exception for old friends."

Ango tilted his head, giving Lance a curious look. "But you don't seem that old? You're younger than Papa, how can you be old friends if you aren't as old as Papa?"

Orbos and Lance looked at each other, gauging each other for what information they could tell the boy. They burst into laughter when they both realized what they were doing, clapping each other on the shoulder and wiping away tears.

"Ango, we 'av known each other for a long time," Orbos explained, still chuckling and kneeling down to look at his son in the eye. "Ol' friends jus' means tha' he 'n I knew each other years ago. We worked together, remember them stories? The ones I tol' ya fer bedtime?" Ango nodded when Orbos paused. "Blue 'n I spent a lo' o' time together before I had t' come back t' our family." Ango looked between Orbos and Lance, considering the both of them. Lance noticed that he was attempting to read both of them, just like Orbos taught him during the war. Hopefully, he would only need that skill for when it came to selling wares, and not for deceiving people.

"So...Blue is... Blue is your..." The boy thought hard about wording his question correctly, struggling to find the right phrasing. "Does that mean Blue and you were in the war together? Papa, is he the one who got you fired?" Lance winced and looked away, scared of his friend's answer.

"No no, Ango, he didn’ ge’ me fired," Orbos said gently.

"But the kids from the market said that Blue was the reason why the army lost some battles, are they lying?"

Orbos placed his hands on Ango's shoulders and looked at him intently. "Them people who tell ya them stories don’ know the full truth, my boy. Many do not know wha' me 'n Blue had done t' help the army, 'n wha’ we did before we were let go. I haven’ told ya the full story, it is one for when y’re older."

Ango paused for a moment, then looked up at Lance. "Okay, I'm older now, will you tell me?"

Lance huffed and shook his head. "Sorry, lad, but I'm with your Papa on this one." He nodded to Orbos as he spoke. "Your Papa and I had done many things, most of them we can't tell you until you reach manhood."

Ango pouted but nodded his head. "Okay, Papa..."

Orbos squeezed his shoulders and patted him lightly on the head. "A'ight, my boy, head off t’ the kitchen t’ help ya mam with breakfast fer ya 'n yer siblin's." His son nodded again before heading back into the main part of the house.

Next thing Lance knew, he was being dragged to a booth in the tattoo parlor and sat down in front of Orbos. The parlor was small, still fairly new, but Lance had the sneaking suspicion that Orbos kept it that way, so he wouldn't be forced to do much work. (He remembered Orbos being one of the... the lazier ones; still active, but not too keen on jumping to all of the fights.) The large man went back to his desk and grabbed the paper, quill, and inkwell before bringing it back to the booth he forced Lance into.

"Righ’, well, since y're 'ere now, migh’ as well show ya wha’ I've been workin’ on," Orbos said as he laid out the paper, orientated so Lance was looking at it properly. "I've been thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ this done fer myself, but since ya came back, figured we could both 'ave it. Ya know, as survivin’ members."

Lance gawked at the design. A dragon, wings spread to span the whole width of the design, had an arrow bisecting it, the tip ending well above the dragon's head. A bow was worked into the design, overlaying the dragon's wings. The fletchings on the arrow were jagged and well worn, the bow looked battered and used; it would have been one to survive the war and then sit and collect dust in the corner. Smoke made up the background, denoting how they were a secret unit, only meant to yield results and not be seen. Tendrils wove around the dragon and the bow, obscuring parts of the wings and the arrow. It was an incredible design, one of the largest pieces he had seen from Orbos ever.

He looked up at the man, stunned. "You've been working on this for—for how long?"

Orbos ran his fingers over the edge of the paper. "Roughly since I heard the rumors from the Keep."

That had been nearly a month and a half ago. Lance blinked and looked back at the design. "Orbos, I can't—I can't possibly let you give me this..." Lance swallowed down a lump. "I don't deserve this," he whispered.

Orbos sighed and sat down across from him, giving him a stern look. "I swear t’ the Ancients, if ya say tha' again—or any of the self-deprecatin’ shit, I'm goin' t' punch it ou' of ya."

Lance scoffed. "You can damn well try. I killed them, Bos, killed all of them. All that’s left is me, you, Rolo, and Rowan. That's it; there's no bringing us back."

"Who is askin’ you to bring us back? Is the Princess askin’ for us?"

He shook his head. "No, I just—I thought that..."

Orbos cut him off. "An’ it was a foolish thought. Blue, we were done when we started t’ split up." He sighed, tone gentling slightly, but still stern with Lance. "Look Blue, ya know tha’ we were all happy t’ be a team, and we had a goo’ go at it, but times are changin' n' now we're lookin’ at ‘nother war."

Lance's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at Orbos. "How'd you know that? That's info the generals, the Royal family, and my new team now."

The man shrugged. "E'eryone has birdies, Blue, ya really think tha' Ol' Bos lets any information get by him?"

Lance frowned, thinning his lips but kept quiet. No wonder he had Orbos gather information for him all the time, he was able to gather plenty of it without fail.

Orbos continued after the moment of silence between them stretched enough to be uncomfortable. "We can't change what happened, Blue, we move forward an’ remember. We did good while we were with the army, an’ y’re still doin’ good. You're helpin’ the princess now."

"At the death of my former team, Orbos, there's no erasing that."

"Blue, I'm not sayin’ tha’ we forget ‘em. Ren 'n the like were good people until the very en', yeah? We ha' goo' times with all of ‘em, we don' 'ave t' forget them, we can remember the goo'. The laughs we had, the stories we shared with each other... do ya want t' forget those times?"

Lance dropped his head into his hands and shook it again. "No..."

"Then le' me give this t' ya," Orbos pleaded.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed heavily. "...Fine."

Orbos smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder and squeezing gently. "Blue, my friend, my brother, y're a goo' man. The Ancients will forgive ya."

"I hope they do, or else I'm cursed for the next one hundred years," Lance laughed darkly.

Orbos snorted and shook his head. "You haven' los' a touch of yer humor, 'ave ya?"

"Not at all."

"Good." They smiled at each other, but as they sat there, their humor slowly faded away. "D'ya want t' say goo'bye one last time, Blue?"

Lance closed his eyes and nodded, fighting back the impending tears. He wouldn't cry, not here, not for them. They wouldn't want that, they would want him to carry on and remember the good that they all did.

Orbos took a deep breath. "By the Ancients, may the Winds guide them."

"By the Ancients... may the Winds guide them..."

Chapter Text

Keith and Amheug flew, soaring through the skies. The sun warmed their backs and the wind cooled their faces. For miles, days, weeks on end, they searched for the one known as the Blue Archer. He searched all throughout the outlying towns in the plains and foothills of the country. Asking, finding no leads, and then moving on. Am flew tirelessly, her great wings carrying them over the countryside.

Getting to Altea had been a much easier task than Keith had anticipated. The forts were spaced so far apart that it was a wonder that they were even able to communicate at all.

But once he was on the other side, he knew that it wasn't something that Alteans seemed to care about.

He could see it, the life in the earth, the land brimming with nutrients, the harvest growing strong. It was far lusher and brighter compared to the empire he left behind—the very same one that abandoned him years ago.

Often, they found themselves visiting the farms that dotted the land, asking about Blue. Some would gladly point him in the direction that they thought he was in, others spat at his feet and told him to fuck off. As much as Rowan had regaled Blue as a hero, the reaction was mixed, and Keith was beginning to question how much of Rowan’s story had been colored by her admiration for him.

They wouldn’t stay in those places long, choosing to camp in fields, forests, caves, whatever they could find in this vastly diverse landscape. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and still Keith kept searching. He wouldn’t give up. Am never gave up on him, Shiro never did either. He wouldn’t give up on Shiro, and he certainly wouldn’t give up on Am. They had been through too much.

After months and months of searching, the colder months coming closer and closer, he finally found a breakthrough. A rumor, barely a breath on the wind, but it was enough.

The Blue Archer was in the capital. Arus. He was working with the Princess and her Captain.

He didn’t even wait for the people to change topics, he was already off, racing to the woods to climb on top of Am and fly northeast.

Finally, after months and months of searching, he could feel this endless wild-dragon chase coming to an end.

Lance visited Orbos many times over the next few months. Pidge and Hunk were still doggedly working on his bow; the one they had originally attempted had failed and they had been forced to start over from scratch. Instead of sending Lance or Shiro to the Keep for more Glacier wood, they contacted Rolo and had him hunt some down. Barely two days later, the castle had a pile of it in the courtyard. They kept up their work, and Lance knew they would contact him as soon as they were confident in their success.

So, while the two of them toiled away with their project, he spent time with his old friend. Over the many, many, many weeks of attending sessions to ink the tattoo onto his skin, Lance got to know Orbos’ son, Ango, far better than he knew Orbos’ other children at this point. Some days, the boy would be out playing with Blue, splashing around in the water Lance’s dragon sent his way. Needless to say, Ango was absolutely tickled when Lance told him that his dragon was named Blue too. Blue and Blue. Eventually, he started to refer to the two of them as Blue-Blue.

Lance told Ango the different stories where he saved Blue’s life and Blue saved his, told him of all the pranks they pulled when they were younger. Ango listened to his stories as if he were a god spouting off a prophecy, stars in his eyes and mouth open in awe.

Other days, when Ango was busy with other things—like chores, those didn’t do themselves—Lance would find himself falling asleep in the lounging chair Orbos put him in each week for new ink. The consistent, small prick of the ink needles lulling him into a shallow sleep. Whenever that happened, Lance would wake up with a cup of warm tea set in front of him and his exposed back covered with a soft blanket. He would sip on the tea and pull his shirt back on, wincing as the fabric brushed over his sensitive skin.

From then on, people at the castle would find Lance wandering in a soft cotton shirt, loose sleeves and buttoned to the middle of his chest. It exposed his collarbones and warm, brown skin. He still winked at the castle staff and guards posted throughout the halls, but he could tell that he was finding himself again. He was pulling himself out of that dreadful pit of sorrow and anger and nothingness that he had been dumped into when his team met their fate. Slowly, he was crawling his way back out, back to himself, with a quick smile, eyes twinkling with mischief, and a wit sharper than most blades.

Then came a day where the routine was broken.

Lance walked into Orbos’ shop and found him mixing a vial of glowing liquid.

“What do you have there, Bos?” he asked, shutting the door to the parlor behind him.

Orbos looked over at him and grinned. “A li’l somethin’ fer yer tatt, Blue.” He swirled the vial and held it up to the light.

Lance eyed it as he walked over. He hadn’t ever seen something like this before. “Well, are you just going to shake it in front of my face or tell me what it is?”

"Hol' yer dragons, Blue," Orbos laughed and set the liquid down on the table. He went about gathering his needles and cloth, setting up his workstation.

Lance knew that his tattoo wasn't finished. Last session, Orbos had told him it needs a few finishing touches. He hadn't told Lance what they were going to be, so here he was, still confused.

He took off his shirt and stretched. His back itched terribly and he resisted the urge to reach behind him and scratch. (The first time he had done that, Orbos had smacked his head and left him with a headache for the rest of the day.)

“’ave ya heard of Balmera crystals?”

Lance snapped his head around to look at Orbos. “What? How the hell did you get your hands on those?”

His friend laughed, tossing his head back. "The li'l lass ya got a' the Keep sent ‘em."

Shay. Of course. Only she would have somehow gotten her hands on those crystals.

“Mm, of course you did.” Lance crossed his arms. “So, what do they have to do with the vial you got there?”

“They’re the crystals!”

Lance waited, raising an eyebrow at Orbos.

Orbos stared back at him and smiled excitedly.

When the silence stretched, Orbos deflated slightly. “Oh okay, fine,” he sighed, “I’ve made ink outta the crystals. Took awhi’, but I got it.”

Lance looked at the vial. “And why do you want to use it?”

“T’ add a phrase t’ yer tatt.”

He kept his gaze locked on Orbos, keeping his face impassive. He watched as his friend waited for his reaction, letting him sweat it out. It had been years, after all, maybe his version of Blue was outdated.

Orbos was just about to speak when Lance shrugged and grinned at him.

Or maybe not.

His friend glared at him and pointed to Lance’s designated lounge chair. “Ge’ over there, ya scoundrel.”

Lance chuckled. “I had you second guessing!”

“Yeah, yeah, wha’ever, ya did good. Now stop laughin’ so I can finish.”

Eventually, Lance stopped giggling and Orbos was able to get to work. He added the final shading, taking an hour or so, and before Lance could find himself dozing off like normal, Orbos got up and grabbed the vial, then sat back down again.

“A’ight, Blue, ‘m addin’ the crystal ink.”

Lance yawned and rolled his neck, blinking slowly. “What are you gonna use it on?”

“The bow.”

“Huh?”

Orbos traced the shape of the bow on Lance's back, how it spanned his shoulder blades. "This is a tribute t' our team. We're sendin' em off."

“By the Ancients, may the winds guide them.”

Orbos didn’t respond but Lance heard him tap his needles into the vial and set them against his skin.

It didn’t take long for Orbos to finish the quote. When he was done, he handed Lance a mirror and turned his back towards a full-body one. Lance was stunned when he saw his back. He had gone this whole time without seeing it, only wanting to see it when it was complete. The dragon looked life-like, the smoke ethereal. When he breathed, the dragon looked like it was exhaling with him, when he moved, the smoke seemed to writhe and drift along his skin.

And then his eyes caught the glow of the markings on the bow.

Orbos had inked the ancient saying Altea used to send off their fallen, and it had been done in Ancient Altean, the nearly lost language many have forgotten. Very few places even taught it, preferring to use the newer Altean language and writing system because it was simpler. There were flourishes, accents, and beautiful swirls in the ancient language, making the bow appear enchanted on Lance’s skin.

Lance lowered the mirror and turned to Orbos, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, my friend, thank you so much…”

Orbos smiled at him and raised one of his sleeves, exposing a bow much like the one that spanned the width of Lance's shoulder blades. "We can both remember ‘em, Blue.”

The two of them embraced. Lance held on tightly, so grateful that there were a few members left he could turn to.

Keith sneezed and shivered. The cold air was spreading over Altea at a rapid pace and it was wreaking havoc on Keith’s senses. The coat Rowan and her family had given him did nothing against the wind and Keith forced himself to burrow into Am’s side, her warm scales and wings the only thing protecting him from getting frostbite at this point.

Little one, you should have bought a warmer coat, Am chided as she curled herself around her rider.

Keith sniffled and stuck his hands into his armpits. “I can’t be wasting money on myself till we find Shiro and find a place to live. Then we have to find jobs.”

Am huffed and bumped his shoulder. You won’t find him at this rate, Little one. You will freeze before then.

“I won’t freeze,” Keith responded, pushing her nose away and settled back again. “Once we get to the capital, I can find a cheap inn and stay there.”

His dragon huffed at him and settled for the night, lowering her wing over him to block out the wind. Keith sniffed and rubbed his nose. It was persistently dripping because of the cold and he really hoped his body would adapt soon or else he would never be convinced to stay in Altea longer than he had to.

After so many months, they finally received word that there was a spy traveling to the Empire. Lance was the first one to reach the meeting chamber, claiming his spot before anyone else. Allura and Shiro were the next to enter the room, they nodded to him and settled on their end of the table.

“Lance,” Allura said, bringing his attention away from the window and back to her. She looked stern. “The war generals will be here for the meeting, I would advise not trying to provoke them.”

“Warning heeded, Princess,” Lance replied, a smirk on his lips. “Wasn’t planning on it, anyway.”

Speaking of the generals, they trickled in by ones and twos, talking to themselves. They wore their impressive military uniform, layered with medals and tassels, announcing each of their awards for their service.

Lance internally rolled his eyes at them; the generals barely did anything except act like the knew what they were doing at war. They were in it for the money and power, not for protecting the people.

A few of them glanced in his direction, sneering. He ignored them and waited for Allura to start the debriefing. Pidge and Hunk were the last ones to enter the room, Kit gripping tightly to Pidge’s shoulder as she recovered her breathing from the run over. Hunk was a little less winded, but out of breath just the same.

“Blue!” Hunk hurried over to him, smiling widely as he sat down next to Lance. “We finished the bow! You can try it out after the meeting.”

“Great! Can’t wait to test it.” Lance laughed and the two of them slapped their hands together.

Pidge just managed to sit down before Allura cleared her throat and stood at the head of the table.

“Thank you all for making it in a timely manner,” she greeted, smiling and nodding slightly before continuing, diving right into the reason they were all here. “I called the meeting because one of our informants has told me of a spy in Altea, specifically Arus, who has plans to travel back to the Empire and make a deal for their information.”

There were collective gasps all around the table from the generals, some turning to whisper to their neighbors as others seethed with anger.

“Who’s been running all over Arus to give us away, Princess?” A general asked, barely disguising his glare at Lance. The man was lanky. He had pale skin and graying hair that only exaggerated his old and new wrinkles.

"The Blue Archer has been careful about his exploits into the city. As far as the citizens know, he has been hired for a job by Captain Shirogane." Lance winked at the general as Allura defended him, smug. Of course he would cover his tracks, he wouldn't be the Blue Archer if he didn't.

The general ignored him and turned back to the princess. “Princess, then if I may ask, what information is this spy hoping to sell off?”

Allura looked to Shiro. The captain stepped up to the table from Allura’s side and motioned to the capital’s city limits on the map in front of them. “We believe that the spy is going to try to relay information about guard routes around the city, trade routes, and information about our current Nests.”

All the generals grumbled, uneasy about how the information for Nests could possibly get released to the Empire. Lance watched them all shift and mutter under their breaths. They were still all concerned with their investments instead of the people who were involved. Shiro continued, "The Blue Archer and I will be setting out to capture the spy and bring them to the prison in Arus for questioning."

A portly man spoke up, his baritone voice bitter. “You should send a squadron of guards instead of yourself and that one.”

Lance didn’t take the jab to heart. The ink on his skin giving him strength, he wouldn’t let these men get the better of him.

Shiro frowned at the general. “Lord Volan, I can assure you that the Blue Archer and I are more than capable.”

“And you would rather risk your life, the Captain of the Royal Guard, where the guard leadership could die out trying to capture this spy?” Lord Volan looked affronted. “If you trained the guards as well as you say you did, they should be more than able.”

Lance grit his teeth and found himself speaking before he could stop himself. "Sending a squadron of guards after one person will increase their chances of escape. It would be far easier for two well-trained riders to find them than it would be to send thirty men and women after one."

The generals fell quiet, staring at him with disdain. Hunk placed a calming hand on his knee, stopping it from bouncing with agitation. Pidge looked around the room, eyes wide. She hadn’t been expecting this amount of animosity from the military with Lance being a retired member; Hunk being their best smith, and Shiro a well-versed veteran as well.

After a heavy silence, the whiney lord spoke again. “Princess, I would have expected you to have picked more refined members for your personal team, not this ingrate of a man who attacked his own people.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open. What? They were—

Allura glared at all of them. “My decisions are my own, Lord Nazoc.”

“Princess, certainly you must have been told of what befell Thorne’s Keep?”

She stood up straighter, staring the man down. “I have, and what I have been told is a far different story than any of you have told me.” She paused, letting her words hit home. “The Blue Archer is a valued member of my team. The work he has done has been excellent and worth far more than he has let himself be paid for. Advisor Coran and I were adamant about adding him to the team. He has skills that no one else has: stealth, agility, the ability to blend in. The Archer is a man of honor, and has proven himself loyal time and time again—”

“Princess, you mistake my intentions—”

“Your intentions are very clear, Lord Nazoc.” Allura clasped her hands in front of her, her icy stare on fire as she made eye contact with the general. “Regardless of what you think about the Archer, the man who is sitting right here is a loyal citizen of Altea, an honored veteran of her armies, and, has proven that he is willing to lay his life down to save this country—something that none of you have done, even during the years we were at war.”

The room was silent, the tension thrumming in the air. Lance stared at Allura, shocked that she would stand up for him like that. He had been so prepared to fight for himself, for the right to be here, the right to prove himself. And she had just told the whole room, full of men who lead the military of Altea, that he had already done so. He had nothing to prove, he was already accepted by her.

She looked over to him and nodded. Lance shut his mouth and nodded back, leaning back in his chair, letting her lead.

Allura took a deep breath and waited for any of the generals to speak out against her, but when none did, she turned to Shiro once more. “Continue with your plan, Captain,” she said, calmly, as if she hadn’t even been angry a few moments before. “I would like to hear how you and the Blue Archer will capture this spy.”

Shiro’s eyes darted between her and Lance and the generals, gauging the room’s atmosphere. After another pause, one slightly shorter than Allura had just given them, Shiro started to explain once more. “As I was saying, the Archer and I will make our way to the forest surrounding the capital and head southwest to intercept the spy. My dragon will be more than enough to bring the spy back, and the Archer and his dragon will remain behind to ensure that no one was waiting for the spy along the way.”

“Do we know if they have a dragon, Shiro?” Lance asked, looking at the map.

"I believe it is a land dragon, as big as a draft horse." Lance hummed. It shouldn't be too hard to find them, then, he thought. Land dragons moved slow compared to the dragons that were able to fly. Plus, Shion and Blue were fast fliers, this mission should take no more than a few days at the most--if that.

"When are they expected to leave the country, Captain?" The general closest to Lance glanced up from the table to look at the two of them. "Within a fortnight, I'm assuming?"

Shiro nodded. “We are expecting that they will leave the country soon.”

The general nodded. “I will alert the guards I have posted on the city borders to be on the lookout.”

“Thank you, General Aliain.”

Aliain smiled and nodded back. Lance examined him out of the corner of his eye. This was his first time dealing with this general, simply because he had mostly fought out in the countryside of Altea and never came close to Arus until after he was dismissed from the war. Aliain, to his knowledge, had been tasked to protect the capital borders and ensure the city’s safety, and therefore Lance and Aliain had never crossed paths until now.

Allura cleared her throat and moved the meeting to a close, their goal discussed and planned out. Aliain’s guards would notify Lance and Shiro if anyone who matches the profile of the spy was leaving the city, they would then capture the spy and bring them back for questioning and trial.

Now all they had to do was wait.

The cold could go to hell.

Keith sniffed and shivered harshly as the wind bit through his clothing. He and Am had been searching the forest surrounding Arus for any sign of the Blue Archer or Shiro. He had heard more and more rumors of Shiro being the royal captain—or something of an ex-general of the Empire being taken in. The Blue Archer was a frequent name on everyone’s lips, and their words varied from one extreme to the next. Either he was loved and honored, or he was a traitor and shouldn’t be allowed near the princess.

The sound of those accusations made Keith frown and look away. Rowan had told him all she knew about Blue and there would be no way that he would betray his country like some people believed. Unfair treatment, blackmail? The typical political moves to eliminate someone. In the Empire, Blue would have been poisoned or assassinated by now, Emperor Zarkon had no need for upstarts. Keith was a prime example of that.

Am huffed from the ground, looking up at Keith where he was perched in a tree for a better vantage point. Do not worry for the Empire, Little one, they cast you aside and now you are free.

“Free doesn’t mean that I am able to do what I want, beautiful,” Keith replied, eyes scanning the forest for any movement. “Finding Shiro is the most important thing right now, I have to know that he is alive and okay.”

You have heard the rumors, he is the Captain of the Royal Guard.

“Those are rumors, and not always the truth.”

Rumors are based on truth.

“Rumors can be anything.”

Am huffed again and settled underneath the tree. They have been at this for days, searching, watching, waiting, over and over again. Keith was bored, he knew his dragon was bored. He sighed and started to climb down from the tree; it was time to go find an inn for the night.

The dimming sunlight was drifting in through the tree, and the cold air was beginning to condense into fog. It wrapped around all the trees, the moisture in the air clung to his hair and clothing, making him feel damp.

Keith climbed onto Am’s back and they launched into the air. Tomorrow would be another day to find Blue and Shiro.

Lance pulled back on the string and sighted his target. He felt the strain on his shoulders and back, it had been far too long since he had held a bow. He loosed his arrow and watched it sink into the target, fletching-deep.

This had only been his third day with the bow and he was still trying to get used to the new weight of it. The blade that made up the spine of it added more to it than he had expected, and with the wood being dense and hard to bend, the pull on it was immense.

Hunk and Pidge had done magnificent work, truly they had, but holy shit.

Lance lowered his arms and rotated his shoulders. They were stiff from the amount of work he was requiring of them, but after almost months of complacency, he deserved the pain. At the end of the day, he went to bed exhausted and sore, and in the mornings, he would wake up stiff, take a trip to the bath house for a hot bath before dressing and heading out for stretching and more training. He would master this bow before they had to leave to find the spy, he vowed to. He couldn’t afford to be off his mark when it came to these missions. He had to be completely accurate.

So, from sun up to sundown, Lance would be found in the training yard. He would pause for a quick meal during the midday hours, but even then, it was in the training yard.

Guards would watch him work, awed that he could pull back the massive bow and loose it with apparent ease. They were far enough away that they couldn’t see the strain of his muscles or the slight tremors of his arms each time. He had mastered the façade of strength a long time ago, no one would see his struggles unless they were right next to him.

His new bow was a longbow, larger than he had ever had to wield, but it suited him. Lance appreciated being able to have a weapon that doubled as essentially a double-bladed staff. As soon as he was comfortable with the draw and weight of the bow, Lance promised he would find someone to teach him how to fight with a staff, he had a feeling that he would need it.

After a few more shots, his quiver was empty and he relaxed his arms. His muscles quivered, his fingers twitching. He so wanted to sit and relax the day away, like had been for weeks, but he had to master this bow.

Bright Eyes, you push yourself too much, Blue sighed.

Lance ran a hand through his hair and walked towards the target. “I have no choice, we don’t know when this spy will leave Arus.”

All this training reminds me of the great battles we were in. I do not want to go back to that.

“Hopefully you won’t have to, big guy,” Lance said. He wrapped his sore fingers around an arrow and yanked it out. “The whole point of this is to prevent another war.”

Will it be enough? One sneak captured can only mean there are more, Bright Eyes. Blue’s tail twitched as each arrow came free. They are insects, tiny and crawling everywhere.

Lance grunted and remained silent for a moment. Blue had a point. Would this be enough? How could they be sure that this spy wasn’t a part of a larger network that they now had to track down? Could they even be tracked? They had so much trouble finding this one spy.

He pulled harshly at the last arrow, stripping it of its fletchings and leaving the shaft still buried deep inside the target. Lance cursed, gripped the arrow one more time and attempted to pull it out. His hands slipped off, slicing through his palm.

Another curse and some hissing at the sting, Lance turned from the target to wander over to Blue. Even with his thin leather gloves and bracers on each wrist, he still managed to get blisters over the last couple of days of non-stop training. Yesterday had been excruciating and he had to bandage his hands in order to even train this morning.

He dug through a medical bag and grabbed a roll of bandages. He wrapped his palm and sat down, leaning against his dragon, sighing.

“At this point, I won’t put it past the Empire to have a network of spies here, Blue,” he said, still wrapping his palm. “But we have to do what we can to protect Altea. If Emperor Zarkon managed to capture any part of her…”

“Altea would be lost.”

Lance looked up to find Shiro and Allura standing in front of him.

“Would it really?”

Allura nodded solemnly. Blue lifted his head to sniff her and she patted his nose gently. “Altea cannot afford another war, and if she were to secede any part of her land, Zarkon would not stop in wanting more.”

Shiro placed a hand on Allura’s shoulder. “As much as I dislike the man, he does have a reason for going to war in the first place.”

The Princess frowned, and Lance tilted his head. “What do you mean, Shiro? The Emperor was greedy, wasn’t that all?”

Shiro shook his head and lifted his hand from Allura's shoulder. "My time as a general for his army lasted most of my life. When the Emperor first declared war on Altea, it was for resources. The Empire is becoming a barren desert and most of its people are consolidated along the coasts and the few rivers that still flow. The previous trade agreements weren't enough and he couldn't find the compensation to gain more from trading. War was the cheapest option."

“And yet the tyrant insists on going to another war,” Allura snipped. Blue pushed his head against her chest, humming lowly.

Lance smiled at his dragon, always seeking peace where he could find it—even if that meant creating his own. He turned back to Shiro. “I think the princess has a point, Shiro,” he said carefully, he didn’t want to speak as though he was disregarding Shiro’s words. “Maybe war was the cheapest option, but both he and Altea ran out of money years ago. We can’t afford another war, literally.”

The Captain nodded and looked over to the target Lance had been demolishing for the last three days. "We all know this, but I'm not a part of his army anymore, haven't been for years. There's no telling who is playing as his voice of reason, now."

Allura followed his gaze and then looked down at Lance’s hands. “How is training progressing?”

"Fine. Different bow, different feel; nothing I'm not used to at this point."

She nodded and smiled. “Master Hunk and Miss Holt did a fine job on it; may I see it?”

Lance shrugged and hand his bow up to her from his lap. “Have at it.”

Allura hefted the bow with ease, her fingers trailing over the ornate carvings Hunk had added to the riser of the bow. For the rest, it was plain; no silver inlays or rune etchings. Hunk had tried to add Balmeran crystal to the bow, but Lance put his foot down and told him not to spend another auron on this bow. Simply thinking of the crystal sent the ink that was in Lance’s skin singing, making his back tingle slightly. He shifted and found a more comfortable position for his shoulders and back as Allura continued to go over the bow.

She eyed the blade that was expertly hidden in the arms of the bow, running a thumb along it, she tested the edge to it, seeing how keen it was. Next thing he knew, she was holding it up as if she were going to shoot, and drawing it back. In the back of his head, Lance triumphed over making the draw weight appear effortless as he watched Allura struggle slightly with pulling it back. The princess couldn’t hold it for long, and a few seconds later she was lowering the bow, letting the string relax.

“I’m surprised anyone can draw this,” she said in awe, handing it back to him. “I would expect only men like Shiro to be able to pull it back.”

Lance smirked at her and stood up. “I’ve had years of training, and my first bow was nearly as long as I was tall. This just reminds me of the time when I was learning.”

Allura giggled, covering her mouth with her hand politely. “I must say, that image is very comical, Lance.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Pa went fishing, I went hunting, my siblings went to school learning. We did what we had to do.”

“I am certain you did well for your family.”

“I did till I brought this beast home!” He laughed and slapped Blue on the shoulder. His dragon huffed and spat some water at him, soaking his head and shoulders.

Shiro and Allura laughed with him as he wiped the water from his eyes.

“It was a pleasure to speak with you, Lance, but we must be going. Coran and my father wish to meet over the economic status of Altea.” Allura and Shiro began to turn toward the entrance of the training yard.

Despite her cheer, Lance could tell she was dreading that meeting, and before they could reach the gate, he called out, “If you ever want a break, Princess, you’re welcome to join me for some target practice!”

Allura turned over her shoulder. “Of course, Lance, I shall keep that in mind, thank you.”

And with that, the two of them left.

Is Bright Eyes going soft on Dragon Queen? Blue shoved against his shoulder and flicked his tail, amused.

Lance scoffed and turned back to the target. “You wish, bud, but the Captain is sweet on her, and I know I would never have a chance.”

Bright Eyes knows the truth, there are too many options for you out in the world to settle for a princess.

“Haha, you know me too well, Blue!”

One would think I did not know you, how awful would that be?

It took a week.

A week before Aliain sent word that there was a dragon matching the description of the spy’s leaving the city with a person that appeared to be nervous and uncertain as they went through the gates.

A week for Lance to master his bow.

He and Shiro geared up, this time in full regalia. Shiro stood by Shion in full plate armor, gilded with Altea’s sigil of a dragon in flight. His sword strapped to his side and shield on his back. Meanwhile, Lance was in padded leather armor, stained dark and mottled to match forests; soft leather boots made so his steps were nearly silent as he walked through the hallways. His blue cloak, a gift from the princess as a payment for a job years ago, trailed behind him, heavy enough to not flap in the wind. Knives and arrows were strapped in every conceivable place on his person; a quiver on each hip, knives sheathed in his boots and forearms and throwing knives along his chest. He was almost equipped for war.

Blue was waiting for him in the courtyard, prancing about in anticipation. Shion was relaxed and poised, as any wardragon would be before battle. The subtle shift of her wings was the one sign that she was as ready to go as Blue was.

Lance strode into the courtyard. “Ready, Shiro?”

The captain nodded to him. “Let’s head out before they have a chance to travel too deep into the forest for Shion.”

"By all means," Lance smirked and hopped onto Blue's back.

Shiro climbed onto Shion’s and the two of them were off, circling the castle once to gain altitude before heading south.

Keith and Am glided over the treetops, riding the wind as it coursed through a valley. There still hadn't been any sign of the Blue Archer or Shiro, and he was beginning to think that he would have to actually delve into the city in order to find them. The simple thought of it made Keith nervous. He had no idea what his reputation had been with these people, whether they knew what he looked like or not. Throughout the war, he had mostly worked with the Blades, hardly traveling to the frontlines to fight.

Am tilted her wings and they curved around the edge of the hill. She circled slowly, eyeing a river that flowed between the two hills, pooling in the center. Her claws touched down on the shoreline of the small lake and Keith hopped off to kneel and take a sip of the cool water.

Little one, no one has traveled these woods for many days.

Keith sighed and stood up, gazing up at the sky and watched as the clouds slowly drifted by. “One more day, beautiful,” he said, “One more day of looking then we will head into the city for them.”

Am nuzzled Keith’s hair, making a mess of it. Always so focused, Little one. Maybe this Blue Rider will teach you how to relax.

“Didn’t I learn that with Rowen?” Keith chuckled and desperately tried to fix his ever-lengthening hair. It nearly touched his shoulders by now.

Clearly those lessons never made it through your hard scales, Little one, Am huffed, laughing with him.

He rolled his eyes. It was the only thing keeping him going at this point—his one focus; finding Shiro. The directionless path Keith was on now, felt like he was losing track of who he was. Thace and Ulaz had done their best, but they weren’t the friend and mentor that Shiro had been.

The breeze wafted through the valley, nipping at him through his clothing. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. One more night out in the cold and he knew that he was going to get frostbite. It was nearly unbearable, even with Am wrapped around him like a cocoon. Flying was harder than anything, the wind was relentless in the sky.

With a heavy sigh, he climbed back onto Am’s back and settled before she launched into the air. Another valley searched, and once more no luck. It was on to the next.

Shiro and Lance soared over the forest, high enough to not cast a discernable shadow and low enough for their dragons to still see movement on the ground. The main road through the forest was wide and it broke the unending sea of trees that surrounded the capital for miles.

After touching base with Aliain’s guards, they were able to gather how long ago the spy had passed through the gates of the city. Only a few hours had passed since the messenger dragon had reached the palace and they had geared up to leave. The spy and their dragon shouldn’t be any more than twenty miles away from the city—an easy flight for Shion and Blue.

Lance scanned the area below, noting a few wagons led by horses heading toward Arus, while the traffic leading away from the city was sparse. Finding the spy should be an easy task.

Bright Eyes.

Lance looked down at the ground, squinting against the brisk wind.

There. Where the road began to thin.

“I see them, Blue.” He unshouldered his bow and prepped an arrow. “Tell Shion.”

Already done.

Shion dove towards the ground while Blue arched into a spiral. The dark dragon and Shiro landed on the road roughly thirty yards away from the target. And when Lance and Blue were within range, Lance knocked his arrow, barely sighting in before he loosed a sure-fire shot on the spy.

His arrow buried itself into the dragon’s shoulder, causing it to scream.

In a matter of seconds, Shiro was upon the spy and Blue was landing high on the surrounding hills.

Lance dismounted and watched with another arrow ready as Shiro drew his sword and faced the spy. The spy himself was a mercenary—well built, but not nearly as trained as Shiro. It didn’t take long for the captain to disarm the spy and hold him at sword point.

He took a deep breath and stayed at the ready, drawing his bow back. The spy's dragon was still snarling and wailing with an arrow in one of its hind legs. It whirled around to snap at Shiro-

Lance let his arrow fly.

It pierced the dragon’s throat, steaming blood pouring out of its maw as it struggled to breathe. It spasmed, hacking and driving Lance’s arrow deeper, causing more damage. He let his breath go.

“By the Ancients, may the winds guide you,” he whispered in apology as he watched the dragon collapse and its rider scream in sorrow.

Ignoring the cries and shouts of the rider below, Lance drew another arrow and sighted in impassively. He would grieve later.

Am jolted beneath him when roars and shrieks of pain echoed through the valley. Keith leaned over her shoulder and saw birds rising in the distance from all the cacophony. Without warning, Am dove toward their left, circling the crest of the hill before landing hurriedly between all the trees.

Keith wasted no time in sliding off her back and sprinting towards the noise. Help, he had to help—his instincts screamed at him.

The years of war, of fighting, of watching people and dragons die, their screams, their sobs, their terror, and grief—all of it, it all came flooding back to him. He dodged branches, leaping over roots as he ran down the hill. Adrenaline pumped through him; the wailing sank into his heart and he desperately tried to reach the person in need before they were killed too.

He came to a break in the trees and saw what he least expected.

Shiro.

Shiro stood there, calmly waiting for the man below to gather himself after the loss of his dragon, sword drawn and pointed toward the pair on the ground.

What?

Why would Shiro attack someone who had lost their dragon?

There were two arrows standing out against the dragon’s tan scales, buried deep. Shiro wasn’t alone.

Crack!

Keith whirled around coming face to face with snarling teeth and piercing blue eyes.

No…

Suddenly, Am leaped out of the trees behind the dragon and latched onto its back. Keith ducked underneath of them as they rolled farther down the hill, snapping and snarling at each other, smoke and flame leaking out of their mouths.

Little one, go! Blue Archer is going harm Old General!

Keith felt his blood run cold and he looked to see where the dragon came from—any sign of broken branches or—

There.

Keith scrambled to his feet and ran over the trail the blue dragon had wrought before it found him. He stumbled over roots and rocks, struggling to stay upright as the roars from Am and her foe echoed fiercely around the valley.

He tumbled into a clearing, panting hard. And there he stood.

The Blue Archer.

Keith grit his teeth and drew his sword as the man turned to him—the same piercing blue eyes as his dragon staring at him.

The massive bow he held in his hands slackened slightly and Keith took his chance.

He charged the archer, not caring that he was the one he was hoping to help him find Shiro. No, not after he had just seen him line up his shot at Shiro in the valley below.

The Blue Archer gasped and pulled back his arrow, loosing it wildly and missing Keith by a foot. Behind him, he heard it sink deep into a nearby tree with a heavy thunk. Keith bared his teeth and swung at the other man. The Archer ducked, rolling out of the way and getting back to his feet in one smooth motion.

Keith reacted and spun with his sword to come back around and lash out at the Archer a second time.

Clang!

His arms shook with the impact, metal scratching on metal as he bore down on his sword, bringing his other hand to the hilt.

Keith glared at the Archer, snarling out a curse. “You’ll pay for trying to kill Shiro!”

“What!?” the Archer yelped.

Their blades slipped, and the Archer spun away again, twirling like Keith had and slicing his bow through the air at Keith's side. He danced out of the way, breathing heavily and glaring at the Archer as he took a moment to breathe as well.

Am and the blue dragon were still fighting farther down the hill, and distantly, Keith heard Shion roar in retaliation as their fight continued. A shadow fell over them and the Archer all but disappeared in the sudden darkness.

Keith glanced skyward, seeing Shion’s broad wingspan block out the sun as she passed overhead.

A twig snapped, and Keith barely brought his sword up in time to block the Archer’s blow. He gritted his teeth and tried to brace himself against the Archer’s strength—but his feet were placed poorly, and he had to shove the bow to the side, nicking the wood as Keith disengaged once more.

The Archer braced himself as he stared back at Keith, waiting for him to attack. Keith could feel sweat rolling down his neck and temple as their gazes met. He saw a spark in those blue eyes and Keith lurched forward, meeting the Archer in the middle of the clearing.

The blades glanced off each other, ringing out in the valley as they met blow after blow. Keith knew his stamina was waning, each thrust and parry and block was getting slower and softer as they kept going. The Blue Archer wasn’t fairing much better than him, his own attacks were losing their edge.

Keith blinked and next thing he knew the Archer deflected his sword to the side and went for his neck. He panicked and spun at the same time, simultaneously bringing his sword up to the Archer’s neck as well.

They froze.

Both were heaving for air, winded from their fight. Keith’s sword bit into the skin just underneath the Archer’s jaw and he felt the small prick of a blade digging into his own skin as the Archer flexed his wrist. They were at a stalemate.

“Lower your sword,” the Archer said, still panting.

“Lower yours,” Keith snapped back, baring his teeth.

A pained roar echoed throughout the valley and the Archer winced as they both looked to the trees. Keith could faintly feel Am's pain, albeit superficial. She wasn't injured to where she was incapacitated.

He turned to look back at the Archer. His brow was furrowed and those fucking gorgeously blue eyes flicked from one tree to the next, searching for any sign of his dragon—all without lowering his weapon.

Keith was still struggling to come to terms with why this man, the very man that Rowen had told him would help, was trying to kill Shiro. From what he had seen, Shiro was wearing the Altean sigils on his armor and shield. Yet the Blue Archer seemed far more concerned for his dragon and had been quick to defend himself against Keith, giving his full attention to him as Keith charged him. Never once had he tried to turn and make a shot at Shiro.

“Why are you trying to kill Shiro?” he asked.

The Archer glanced at him and scoffed, returning his gaze to the trees. “None of your damned, business, Galra spy.”

He tightened his grip on his sword, pressing it further underneath the man’s jaw. “Tell me before I slit your throat,” he snarled.

“You think you’ll be able to do that before I slit yours?” The Archer’s eyes met his, holding his gaze steadfast and challenging.

Keith growled and pressed even harder.

They could still hear trees falling and branches snapping in the valley, still feeling their dragons’ pain distantly. Roars, growls, and whines were echoing all over, making it hard to pin down where their dragons were.

Then there was a large, booming roar.

It was deafening. Keith slapped his free hand to his ear, wincing as the roar continued for what felt like eternity. The Archer never moved, never wavered. He kept his eyes trained on the trees, staring through the gloom for any signs of movement.

The valley fell silent as the roar ended and left Keith’s ears ringing. He looked over to the Archer and he was still standing completely still, motionless except for his breathing.

He could faintly hear rumbling down in the valley—it sounded like it was disgruntled mumbling as if a dragon had been told off.

The Archer chuckled and smirked at Keith. “Looks like your dragon is pinned.”

Keith blanched, flinching and almost pulled his sword away. He caught himself and re-tightened his grip on his sword, struggling to keep his hand from shaking.

“No, you’re lying.”

“I’m not, ask your dragon.”

He reached out to Am through their bond. He could feel her exhaustion clearly, her labored breathing as she was held against the ground under a massive claw. She wasn’t hurt.

He sagged with relief. She wasn’t hurt.

Keith gathered himself as soon as he confirmed that, glaring back at the Archer once more. “My dragon is fine.”

“Suit yourself,” Blue shrugged. “She is still unable to help you, not with Shion there.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “How do you know Shion?”

“Ah-ah-ah… I don’t simply give out information like that to anyone. Especially not to spies.”

“I’m not a spy!” Keith shouted, pressing forward despite the steel at his neck. “You have no fucking clue who I am, and you will not stand in my—”

“My prince?”

Keith whirled around, lowering his sword and stepping away from the Blue Archer’s blade.

“Shiro?”

“You two know each other?”

Chapter Text

Shiro gaped at the two of them.

Lance had completely disengaged from the other man and was staring at the two of them. “You know each other? What the fuck? Shiro?”

The captain just stared at the other man. Lance turned to gaze at him too, noticing how haggard and exhausted he looked. What had happened to him? His clothes were paper thin, and with the incoming winter, he had to be freezing during the night.

“Shiro, he was trying to hurt you! I was doing what I had to do!”

Lance scoffed at him. “Whoever the fuck you are, you are clearly not up to date on things, are you?”

“Fuck off,” the stranger snarled, whirling on him, snapping his sword up to his face again. “I will not hesitate to kill you if try to harm Shiro again.”

“You attacked me first!” Lance explained, “I was covering him!”

“You had an arrow drawn on him!”

“Like I said, I was covering him!” Lance seethed. “I should have you at arrow point, too, fucking Galran filth!”

“You fucking take that back!” The man bared his teeth, fire flaring in his eyes. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

Lance didn’t back down, and raised a finger to the sword, pushing it away and stepping forward, entering the man’s space. “I would never hurt a teammate.”

The man blinked, somewhat shocked. “You’re… what?” He turned to face Shiro, lowering his sword. “Shiro, what is going on?”

Shiro was still staring, disbelief making his eyes wide and his normally guarded expression open.

Bright Eyes, something is wrong with Shion…

Lance snapped around and looked down the hill. Through the trees and on the road below he could see Shion quivering, still holding a dark red dragon down. Blue was nudging her shoulder, but she wasn’t responding—much like her rider where he stood in front of Lance.

Taking a deep breath, Lance put his bow over his back and crossed his arms. “Shiro,” he said in Altean.

The captain finally looked at him, eyes still wide. Hearing Lance speak strictly Altean had finally got his attention. “Lance, I… I thought he was dead…”

“You and him can catch up later, we need to head back to the castle. What happened to the spy?”

Talking about the mission seemed to bring Shiro back to the present, giving him something substantial to focus on, something more concrete than why a random Galran was here in the woods with them.

Casting a glance at the said Galran, Lance saw that he was standing there confused, definitely not understanding Altean. Common was what everyone spoke, Lance had picked up Altean along the way because of his career as a hitman. Not everyone could understand the language, and it had become a staple with Lance’s team for communication.

Shiro turned towards the prince and smiled weakly. “It’s good to see you again, my Prince, but we should be going.”

The prince scowled and sheathed his sword, slamming it into its scabbard with a loud grunt. “Dammit, Shiro, you can’t just leave me again!”

“My Prince—”

“Stop, I’m not a prince anymore, so just call me by my name.”

“Woah, woah, woah—hold up. Prince?”

Shiro flinched and looked away. Lance watched both of them, clearly understand that there was history between the two of them, but from what he saw from Shiro, he had never expected to see this man again. Ever. Shiro had thought he was dead. Had for a long time now.

“He… Lance, I—” Shiro tried to explain, but his emotions were all over the place; sadness, anger, relief, anxiety, all of it. All plain to see on his face.

Lance sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was not what he had expected from a simple retrieve a spy mission. But it was with Shiro after all.

“Look, as heartwarming as all this is, do we really have the time to talk about it? Right here? In the middle of a forest?” he asked.

Shiro gave him a pathetic look. “You’re right, I’m sorry, Lance.”

The archer waved him off. “Shiro, stop apologizing, Ancients above—You would think that I don’t expect this with you anymore.”

“You make a fair point,” Shiro laughed and pulled himself together.

The ‘Prince’ practically growled, “I don’t give a fuck.”

Lance looked up at the sky, trying to find whatever patience he had left to not punch this fucker in the face.

“Look,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “We have a job to do—had a job to do. And now that it’s over, we need to go back to the palace.”

The prince, in whatever glory he had left with his meager outfit and haggard appearance, drew himself to his full height—still inches shorter than Lance—and glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere without Shiro.”

“My—Keith, not here.” Shiro took a step forward, preparing to break them apart if they started fighting once more.

Keith turned his glare to Shiro. “And where else? I’m an exile, Shiro, stepping foot in any royal court would be a death sentence.”

Shiro looked confused. “I thought—weren’t you executed?”

“Clearly not since he’s standing right here, Shiro,” Lance snorted, staring off into the woods, assuming an air of nonchalance.

“Lance—”

“No, no, continue talking with him.”

Shiro sighed, now more frustrated than anything. Nothing was easy.

“Lance, we don’t have the time…”

The archer turned back to the two of them, eyebrows raised. “I know we don’t have the time. The Princess will have our heads since we are taking forever, but he—” Lance pointed at Keith “—seems to believe that we need to stay here and talk this out.”

“Shiro, please, it’s been years,” Keith pleaded, softening slightly. “I don’t want to you go.”

“Keith, you said so yourself, you can’t go back to a royal court.”

“How did you get into the Altean Royal Court?”

Shiro opened his mouth to answer but Lance cut him off. “Here’s the short story. Shiro escaped from the Galra military, was traveling, saved a princess and her family from bandits and got hired as the Captain of the Royal Guard. That’s what happened.”

Keith sneered at him. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome, now can we go?”

Shiro sighed, exasperated. “Lance, that’s not what he means…”

“Oh well, by all means, go ahead, talk it out,” Lance sang sarcastically. “I’ll just be over here waiting for the two of you to hash it out and so we can head back to the castle.”

“You could just leave now,” Keith suggested, still glaring at him.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Not what I meant, Prince Keith . I don’t go anywhere without all of my teammates.”

“You have one teammate.”

“And more back at the castle!” Lance retorted.

“Then go back to them, Shiro is staying with me!” Keith snapped back.

“Listen here you little piece of Galra shit—”

Shiro stepped in between them, a firm expression on his face as he separated the two men. “Lance, that is enough. Go check on the dragons, I will be fine and return to the castle with you. Let me talk to him.”

Lance snapped his mouth shut and nodded tersely. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

He spun on his heel and made his way down the hill to where all three dragons were on the road.

Shiro watched him go for a moment before turning back to Keith, ready to apologize, but something stopped him. He couldn’t blame Lance for his behavior, anyone in his position would be just as upset as he was now.

He sighed and took a step away from Keith, creating more space between them so they could talk.

“Keith, how did you get here?”

Keith sighed and hugged himself, a shadow falling over his face. “It’s a long story, far longer than what the Blue Archer will allow.”

“Lance will be fine. He and Blue won’t leave without me.”

He looked up at Shiro, vulnerable. “But I can’t follow you once leave.”

“At some point, our paths were going to diverge, Keith.”

“But they don’t have to! You can come with me and we can leave for Nylia or—or, or somewhere else. We don’t have to go back to the Empire, Shiro, we don’t even have to stay here, we can leave and go wherever.”

Shiro sighed and shook his head. “I can’t. I have a responsibility to the Princess now, Keith.”

Keith scowled at him and began to pace, stomping into the ground with his frustration. “What do you mean ‘a responsibility’?” he spat. “Shiro, Kolivan and Thace and Ulaz and I all helped you escape and you ran to the princess of Altea ?”

“That’s not how it happened, Keith.”

He spun and faced Shiro, livid. “Then what the fuck happened while I was in prison, Shiro? I can tell you what fucking happened to me and it’ll make it sound like you’ve been on vacation for the past three years.”

“I—wait, prison?” Shiro was shocked. He had hoped that Keith would keep a low profile while he was gone. He had heard news of how he was found for treason, but nothing beyond that. “Keith, how?”

Keith crossed his arms, hugging himself and looked away. “They found out about the slave rescues we and the Blades were doing. They tortured a girl in front of me to get me to crack, and the next court day I was called in front of all of them and tried for treason. Zarkon made a show of a public execution and I was secretly handed over to Lotor.”

Shiro felt his heart stutter in his chest. Keith… he had been tortured… for years. Now that Shiro knew, he could see the way Keith was thinner, ragged, and exhausted. Lotor had the sense to not leave any marks, not where one could see them at least. He caused scars that were hidden inside, made a person feel worthless and helpless, a sack of meat, unworthy of anything. And Keith had suffered through this for three years.

“Keith, I… I’m—”

“Don’t apologize, Shiro,” Keith interrupted, holding up a hand and closing his eyes. He took a moment to gather himself, shoving the memories away and locking them up. He refused to let Lotor win. He didn’t want his escape and Rowan’s help to be for nothing. “It’s over and done with and I’m here now.”

“Keith, it’s not just ‘over and done with’, what happened to you was serious, you can’t make me believe—”

“Then believe me when I say that I am fine . I found help before coming to Altea. I’m fine.”

Shiro backed down, swallowing his protests and letting it go. He could tell that Keith was worse off than he was letting himself believe. The shoddy clothing and tired expressions spoke loud enough for that.

Keith sighed and smiled tiredly at Shiro. “It’s a bit late to be worrying about all of that now, isn’t it, Shiro? I got out half a year ago.”

Had it really been that long? Have Shiro and Allura really spent six months preparing a team of people to end a war before it even began? And that whole time, he hadn’t spared Keith a second thought.

“I’m sorry.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Shiro. What happened to me was my fault. I got too hasty with trying to free the slaves the Empire insists on having. I spent most of the time trying to get them back to their homes.”

“I should have been there to help you,” Shiro insisted, taking a step forward and holding his hands out—holding out all his regrets to Keith. “I should have stayed and helped, and then we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”

Keith shook his head. “If you hadn’t left, neither would have I. You know damn well that I was unhappy there.”

Shiro lowered his hands, clenching them into fists at his sides. “It would have kept you from being tortured by Lotor.”

“What happened, happened for a reason, Shiro,” Keith explained with surprising acceptance. “We had our trials separately, and we both passed. We’re here now.”

“And you’re a shell of yourself, Keith. I don’t know how you’re making yourself believe that you are fine.” It was easy to fall back into his old role of guiding Keith. For one so young, he had seen so much. Living his early years on the streets, fighting for his life—only to be found and taught the same thing, just in a different fashion. His whole life, Shiro realized, Keith had been fighting for his place.

Keith wanted to belong so badly, he had endured countless situations of bullying, years of torture, and who knew how long wandering on his own with Amheug.

The man before him shrugged. “I’m okay with it, Shiro, really. Neither of us would have been able to leave otherwise.”

“So, you’re happy that you were able to leave your home to wander the wilderness for Ancients know how long?” Shiro accused.

Keith shrugged again. “I never said I was happy about it, but it is better than being treated like filth in the one place you expect to find a family.”

Family.

Shiro knew he had a family now. In Allura, in Lance, in Hunk and Pidge and all of the guards he oversaw. He had found a place to call home, and Keith was still searching. He had been searching for years, with and without Shiro. All he ever wanted was a home.

Shiro made a decision.

Lance grumbled and sat down on the ground, back to the hill, and scowling at the other across from him. Shion had stepped off of the red dragon and settled down to wait. She wasn’t trembling as she was before, clearly relieved that she wouldn’t have to hurt the new dragon at all.

In fact, that two were talking and Blue was sitting over by Lance, watching them silently as they carried on. It was if Lance and Blue didn’t exist to them.

With a heavy sigh, Lance flopped over onto his side, elbow digging into the dirt and he began to draw pictures in the road, ignoring the other dragons as much as they were ignoring him.

Bright Eyes?

“Yeah, Blue?”

They have known each other a long time.

“I gathered.”

Will Old General and Shion leave with them then?

“Dunno, depends on how Shiro and that shmuck up on the hill get things figured out.”

Bright Eyes, you do not sound optimistic…

“Because I’m not.”

Lance frowned at the dirt and drew harsh lines with his finger, angrily writing phrases and curses out in Altean as he waited. The unease the settled heavily in his gut roiled, making him feel sick. But he refused to let it show. Everything was transformed into outward anger. He wouldn’t let Shiro or this… Keith know that he was expecting to return alone. It always happened that way. So, he didn’t see why it wouldn’t happen again.

Minutes passed and still, Lance heard no sign of Shiro or Keith coming down the hill. Lance wanted to shoot something. Anything really. But not the corpses that lay in the middle of the road. Shooting the dead? That was just bad sport.

Bright Eyes, your heart…

“I know Blue, I’ll be fine.” He jabbed his finger into the dirt again, drawing out more symbols.

But…

“Blue, I promise,” Lance said with finality.

Blue sighed and lowered his head to bump Lance’s, a whine escaping his throat. Hearing the distressed dragon-noise, Shion paused and looked over. Blue’s spines and fins were lowered, dejected and dull. She could see Leggy One lying on the ground, scribbling with his finger. She did not know what had caused these two bright individuals to lose their color.

Lance didn’t turn to look at either Shion or Blue. He kept his focus on the ground, fighting back whatever emotions tried to work their way to the surface.

A moment later, twigs snapped and leaves rustled. Lance didn’t stand up to greet the two of them and he heard Shion and the red dragon greet their respective riders. Blue stayed close to him, not venturing over to see if Shiro was alright.

“Lance?”

The archer glanced over his shoulder to see Shiro staring down at him and Keith was just behind him. He turned back to look at the ground, barely grunting in acknowledgment.

“Lance, we must return to the palace,” Shiro said, clearly trying to edge him into moving. “The spy is dead.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t seem like it was that much of importance earlier.”

“Lance—”

“I honestly expecting more from the Blue Archer,” Keith butted in, sounding peeved still. “Clearly the rumors leave much to be desired.”

Lance took a deep breath, beating back the wave of anger and guilt that bubbled up again. It had only been a couple of weeks since he had last heard his title be thrown at him like Keith had just done. He sounded so much like the generals that had discharged him, so much like the people from Thorne’s Keep. He had spent so many years trying to change their opinions of him, killing the people who made Altea worse, giving back where he could.

His back itched, right where the balmera crystal ink was printed into his skin. By the Ancients, may the Winds guide them. A saying he had said over every person and dragon he has had to kill. A saying that he lived by. A saying that he hoped gave the souls he took the freedom to wander to the afterlife. He hadn’t wanted this, never asked for it, but it was what he became.

The Blue Archer.

Hallowed as a hero, scorned as a criminal.

Some legend he was.

Slowly, Lance pushed himself to his feet, not saying a word in response to Keith and barely sparing Shiro a glance as he dragged his foot over his scribbling. Once the ground was clear, he walked over to Blue and climbed onto his back.

Bright Eyes… should we not—?

“Just go, Blue,” he whispered.

His dragon went quiet and leaped into the air, beating his wings hard as the two of them rose into the sky, circling once before disappearing over the trees.

Keith turned to Shiro with an unimpressed expression. The captain simply sighed and climbed onto Shion’s back. They took off, Am and Keith not far behind.

~~Fifteen Years Ago~~

Allura wandered the halls of her home, hands tucked behind her back as she walked. She was bored, and she was itching to get into the nursery, despite the fact that she would receive her own dragon in just a few years.

She sighed and continued to follow a wandering path throughout the palace, greeting the few guards and various other servants she saw along the way. Her duty to wait and be a part of the magnificent ceremony where she would receive her own dragon settled on her like a stone on her, demanding that she wait. But with each passing day, she was continuously drawn to back to the hatchery, playing with the dragons that hatched before being bonded—mostly messenger dragons, ones that would be trained for such. They were small, barely larger than a cat, but adorable nonetheless.

Allura grinned to herself as she thought about the tiny dragons that could fit in the palm of her small hand. She knew that if she went to go see them, Coran would be after her in no time.

Sighing once more, Allura found herself torn between the two options: seeing the newly hatched dragons or going back to her room to focus on her studies. Her heart knew what she wanted, but her mind was telling her it wasn’t worth the battle.

She let her feet decide for her, and before she even realized where she was going, Allura found herself at the doors to the Royal Hatchery, hearing the chirps and grunts from behind the doors as the hatchlings behind them played. Embracing the fact that this was how her afternoon was going to be spent, Allura pushed open the doors and entered.

Immediately, she was covered in small, squirming dragons, trilling and hissing at her and their brethren.

“Hello to all of you as well,” she giggled, gently pulling out the few that got tangled in her hair.

More dragons chirped in response, some of the bigger ones, clambering around her feet. Slowly she moved through the now teaming pile of dragons around her and made her way to the large nest in the middle. There were a few larger eggs waiting there, but she had vowed to never touch them, lest she ruin the hatching ceremony. She was rebellious at times, but not that rebellious.

A pink, pearly dragon flapped in front of her face, his bright green eyes full of mirth and happiness. He spun around in twirling loops, showing off his skill to her.

“Well done, my good sir!” Allura cheered and clapped her hands together. “You will make a fine messenger one day, I just know it.”

The dragon trilled happily and zipped off to another part of the hatchery where even more dragons were, flitting around as he bragged to his nest mates about her compliment. Allura smiled after him before turning her attention back to the little ones demanding more of her attention.

She laughed and played with all of them, running about the hatchery as she was chased and gave chase. After almost many hours of romping about, Allura collapsed on the edge of the nest in the middle, where three larger eggs sat. A few dragons followed her, flopping around her—a couple even landing on top of the eggs in the middle, huffing from all the exertion they just went through.

Allura laid spread eagle, arms tossed out to her side as she panted and laughed as few tireless hatchlings continued to tussle about.

“I do not know how you have so much energy, little ones,” she gasped, “I am beyond winded and more of you still want to play!”

The pearly dragon from before landed above her head and looked down at her, head tilting and frills swaying to and fro.

“Oh, do not look at me like that, sir! I must catch my breath!”

The dragon chirped before leaping into the air, circling above her once before going back to his side of the hatchery.

She heard some shouting from outside the hatchery and all the dragons scattered. Allura scrambled to sit up, hands brushing against dragons as they scampered off. There was a flurry of wings, tails, frills, spines, and scales as they all dashed about—and in that confusion, once Allura could open her eyes again without being hit in the face by any dragon limbs, she found herself with a hand on an egg.

Allura stared down at her hand, watching as the pale gray and warm mulberry egg thrummed under her touch.

A feeling of dread washed over her slowly. Her father was going to be so disappointed…

Cracks spread across the surface of the egg and Allura retracted her hand seconds before the egg burst apart and a hatchling at there, staring at her with bright purple eyes.

“Oh Ancients…”

The hatchling trilled at her and crawled over to her as the doors began to open.

“Princess! Princess Allura, it is time for your economics lesson,” Coran called.

Panicking, Allura scooped up the hatchling and hid him in her wild mane of silver hair. She stood quickly, whispering, “Hold still!”

Thankfully, as Coran fully opened the door, her new dragon settled on her shoulders and held still as a statue.

Her advisor poked his head around the door, mustache bristling at her state of disarray. “Come now, Princess, must you play with all of the hatchlings?” he scolded as he approached her. “Your father has told you time and time again that the hatchery is not meant for playing.”

“I apologize, Coran, but the little ones enjoy my company.” Her response stirred some of the braver hatchlings and they swooped down to flit around Coran’s head. Allura giggled behind a hand and watched as Coran struggled to keep them out of his face. “They seem to enjoy your company, as well!”

“Princess,” Coran sighed, giving up and letting the smaller ones land on his head and shoulders, making him look ridiculous. Allura struggled not to laugh any more at his image as he continued. “This is not about you spending time with them, this is about you bonding with a hatchling before your time.”

The hatchling on her shoulders suddenly felt much heavier than he already was. She smiled up at Coran, forcing herself to hide the sudden wave of guilt. “I know all about the ceremony, Coran, it is a marvelous occasion to meeting my dragon and celebrating its hatching.”

Coran nodded. “Precisely, Princess, which is why you mustn’t be in here any longer.”

“I’m sorry, Coran.” She ducked her head slightly at his admonishment.

Her advisor sighed and brushed off the hatchlings in his hair and on his shoulders before gesturing for her to lead the way out of the hatchery. “I know you are, Princess, but let’s just head off to economics, yes? Miss Elwyn is waiting for you in your chambers.”

“Yes, Coran…” Allura dragged her feet as she left the hatchery, saddened that her free time was up and now she had to go back to learning how to be a leader for her country.

Coran lectured her the whole way back to her rooms where Miss Elwyn, her current teacher was waiting. Allura smiled apologetically to her and Miss Elwyn smiled back good-naturedly.

“Good afternoon, Princess, are you ready for today’s lesson?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss Elwyn!” Allura turned and curtseyed to Coran. “Thank you for escorting me here, Advisor Coran.”

Coran bowed in return, struggling to keep a smile off of his face as he did so. It was hard to remain angry at the princess heir of Altea. “It was my pleasure, Princess, please be more conscious of the time more often.”

“Yes, sir.”

Coran bowed lightly once more before turning to leave, walking down the hallways whistling a jovial tune as he went. Miss Elwyn turned to Allura and poked at her hair.

“You must have been rough-housing with the hatchlings for a long time, Princess, to get your hair in this state,” she commented.

Allura smoothed down her hair self-consciously, not missing the way her hand brushed over her dragon’s hips and made him squeak in surprise.

Miss Elwyn froze and Allura stared at her wide-eyed.

Seconds dragged by as Allura’s mind raced. What should she do? Would Miss Elwyn tell her father? Would she tell Coran? Oh Ancients, she was going to be in so much trouble if—

“Princess, shall we—ahem—shall we head inside?” Miss Elwyn asked, clearing her throat.

Allura nodded stiffly and entered her rooms. Once the door was shut and locked firmly behind Miss Elwyn, her teacher was staring at her, her expression a mix of disbelief, concern, and confusion. Allura stood ramrod straight, trying to appear as nothing was out of the ordinary as they continued to meet each other’s gaze.

Her hatchling shuffled on her shoulders, claws digging into her through her dress. Allura winced in pain but refused to take her hatchling out from underneath her hair. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a choice in the matter because soon after, her dragon was poking his head out from beneath her curtain of hair and blinked at her teacher. Miss Elwyn blinked back, her eyes flicking between him and Allura.

“Well,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “This is certainly what I least expected to happen today.”

Allura raced over to her teacher and grabbed her hands. “Please do not tell my father or Advisor Coran! I would hate to disappoint them—please don’t tell them!” she begged, eyes wide and beginning to brim with tears.

Miss Elwyn peered down at her, blinking a few times at Allura’s sudden demands. “Princess, I—should we really keep this from your father and Advisor Coran? This certainly makes the Hatching Ceremony awkward and they will need time to—”

“Miss Elwyn, please!” Allura begged once more, tears now trailing down her face. “I cannot—I don’t—please, I, Allura of Altea promise that this will be dealt with when the time is right, but please, please , can we keep this between us for the time being?”

Miss Elwyn sighed and gently extracted her hands from Allura’s grasp and wiped the princess’ tears away as she smiled. “If that is what you wish, Princess.”

Allura smiled tearfully at her teacher and hugged her around the middle. “Thank you, Miss Elwyn, thank you. I promise I will make it up to you one day, promise!”

Her teacher laughed and brushed back her hair to get a good look at Allura’s newly hatched dragon. He sniffed at her hands and purred lightly, his ears relaxed. “My, he is a handsome one, Princess.”

Allura released Miss Elwyn and brought her dragon fully out of her hair. He was shimmering thing—light gray iridescent and a deep shade of mulberry made up his wings. What was curious about him was the slightly darker markings that swirled all over his body, making it appear as if his body was always moving.

“He is handsome, isn’t he?” she breathed. Her dragon turned and chirped cheerfully at her, burying his head in her chest.

Allura laughed as his antlers poked her cheek. His mane and small tufts of fur matched his wings, and his eyes were a bright purple. He was a cheerful soul, his mind broadcasting a myriad of happy noises into her own.

“I think I will name you Freyan, after the Ancient one of kindness and companionship,” she announced.

Freyan chirruped joyfully, fluttering his wings about as Allura and Miss Elwyn laughed at his antics.

“A wonderful name, Princess, very befitting.”

~~Present Day~~

Allura gazed out into the palace garden from her terrace, reminiscing on the day Freyan had crashed into her life. She and her dragon had caused so much trouble for the palace and her father. Alfor would occasionally bring it up as a reminder of how her actions have all sorts of repercussions if she doesn’t think them through.

Freyan, however, was an exception to that rule.

Granted the Hatching Ceremony had been somewhat of a debacle, the visiting royalty and other members of the high class had all been confused when Allura had walked into the hall trailed by a dragon that had grown to the size of a draft horse over the course of a year. Freyan was as majestic then as he was now, matching Allura in all of her qualities.

She pushed herself off the railing of her terrace and walked back into her room, her robe floating behind her.

Soon, she would have to call Freyan back to the palace, another year had gone by and she would need him for the next Hatching. Hopefully, the events currently happening between Altea and the Empire could wait for this joyous event to pass. Allura dressed herself in a simple gown and braided her hair over her shoulder.

As she was finishing, she heard an urgent knock on her door.

Allura tied her hair off and made to open the door, finding Coran standing there, panting as if he had run across the entirety of the palace.

She gasped, and her hands hovered over her advisor’s shoulders. “Coran? Is everything alright?”

“Princess, a Galran rider has been spotted heading for the palace,” he huffed, nearly doubling over.

Allura frowned and she slipped into her war-ready persona. “Call the guards, Freyan will be here shortly,” she commanded as she strode past her advisor.

He was quick to follow her, smoothing back his hair and dropping into his own calm demeanor. “Right away, Princess.”

The strode through the hallways as Allura called out to her dragon. Freyan, it is time to come home.

She heard a loud yawn through their bond and felt Freyan stretch, flexing his wings and shaking out his tail.

I shall be there shortly, my queen.

Lance and Blue landed in the courtyard as Hunk and Pidge ran out to meet him. He was sliding off of Blue’s back when they rushed up to him.

“How did the bow work?”

“Did it hold up alright?”

“How was the draw weight, did we get it right?”

“Was the blade useful? Did you even use it?”

He raised a hand to get both of them to stop. They paused instantly. Hunk had a worried frown on his face and Pidge was a little miffed for being interrupted.

“Lance, is… is everything alright?” Hunk asked quietly.

He nodded and sighed. “I’ll be fine.”

Hunk’s frown deepened. “You’re not fine, Lance, what happened out there?”

“To be honest? I don’t even know.” Lance turned and started walking to the end of the courtyard, taking his gloves off and clenching them in his fists.

He would get through this. He would. If anything, he could go back to being a hitman. Go back to what he knew. Go back to his cabins in the woods.

He felt a tug on his cloak and looked over his shoulder to find Topaz with a corner of it in his mouth. His gold eyes were wide and worried, much like his rider. Lance sighed and turned to face the dragon.

“C’mon, Tope, let it go.”

Topaz shook his head and tugged it harder, dragging Lance closer. Blue watched from afar, still standing where Lance had left him.

Another sigh escaped him, and Lance walked over to where Topaz was standing, gently taking his cloak out of the dragon’s mouth. “Listen boy, I know you missed Blue and I, but there’s nothing we can do if we have to leave, alright? I promise to come visit you and Hunk if we do, okay?”

That seemed to relax the dragon but then he tensed again, spines and frills falling flat as it gazed up at the sky. Blue was doing the same, lowering himself as far as he could go, appearing as small as possible.

Bright Eyes, the Dragon Queen’s dragon…

Lance jerked his eyes to the sky, squinting past the sun and watching a giant shape circled above them. Looking toward the horizon, he could see Shion and the red dragon from before circling as well, getting ready to land in the courtyard. Lance frowned as he watched the two of them land swiftly, Shiro and Keith both jumping off their dragons and calming them as they cowered on the ground.

The shadow grew larger as it came closer. Lance could actually hear the air it displaced with its wings.

Allura stormed out into the courtyard just as the beast dropped into the courtyard, causing the ground to quake underneath its claws. Lance stared in awe at this dragon, standing well above Shion’s own impressive height, with wings that had to reach out to almost twenty meters.

The dragon roared causing everyone but Allura and Coran, who was following behind her, to clap their hands to their ears and the dragons to cower further on the ground. Shiro and Keith were frozen in place as this dragon snarled at them, its teeth as large as Shiro’s legs. Allura continued her march toward the two of them, eyes practically alight with anger.

“Captain Takashi Shirogane, explain to me why you have brought this Galran into my castle at once.”

At the barest sound of her tone, Shiro dropped to a knee with a fist placed over his heart. “My Princess, I assure you I can explain—”

She barely gave him the chance to finish, speaking over him as she continued to glare. “Where is the Blue Archer? And what of the spy?”

Lance was almost afraid to speak up and make his presence known, but then Coran turned and spotted him. “Princess, the Archer is over there.”

Allura whirled on him. “Do you know what is going on? What is the meaning of this? Answer me, now.”

Lance swallowed and fought down any sort of rebellion he normally would have responded with. He squared his shoulders and made his way over to Allura, so he wouldn’t have to shout across the courtyard.

“Princess, please, Shiro and I can explain,” he said, once he was closer.

She straightened up to her full height, eye-level with Lance. “I would certainly hope so,” she sniped before turning back to the two other men. “Freyan, enough, your point has been made.”

The enormous dragon’s growling ceased in an instant and the courtyard fell deathly silent. Shiro was still kneeling on the ground, head bowed with respect. Keith was glaring roundly between the Princess, Lance, and Coran, somehow having been convinced to return with Shiro. Lance let none of his thoughts escape through his expression as he looked coolly at everyone in front of him.

Allura crossed her arms and waited, Coran simply folded his hands behind his back.

When it was clear that no one else was going to speak first, Lance took a deep breath and began. “Princess, the spy Shiro and I were after was dealt with, their dragon killed, but I am unsure of what information Shiro was able to gather before I was attacked by the man beside him.”

Keith sneered at him but didn’t say anything in response. Allura nodded at Lance, at least somewhat pleased with his summary. She turned to Shiro and Keith, casting a blistering glare at the Galran before addressing Shiro.

“Captain, stand and tell me exactly what happened.”

Shiro rose to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back, standing at attention while reciting much of the same turn of events as Lance had. “After the spy poisoned himself to prevent his capture, I heard Lance fighting with…” he trailed off, looking to Keith for an explanation.

Keith closed his eyes and sighed before bowing to the Princess. “Keith, exiled prince of the Galra Empire.”

Allura looked down her nose at him. Her angry glare returned to Shiro for confirmation and as the captain nodded, she sighed. “Captain, is it safe to assume that this man before me is the same one that you served under for many years before you escaped from the Empire?”

Shiro nodded. “You are correct, Princess.”

“Right,” Allura breathed, deflating slightly as Keith straightened. She was still glaring at the man, but it was far less intense than it had been just moments before. She turned back to Lance. “The spy and his dragon were dead before you had the chance to interrogate them for any information?”

Lance nodded as well. “I was on one of the hills on either side of the main road. I killed the dragon just as Shiro landed so he wouldn’t have to risk Shion getting injured. The road was narrowing when we caught up to him.”

“Well done.” Turning back to Shiro and Keith, Allura took a moment to consider what to do with either of them. Before she had a chance to decide, Shiro stepped forward.

“Princess Allura, I would like to propose adding Keith to the team you and I are establishing.”

Allura blinked, caught off guard at the sudden request. “Ancients above, Shiro, do tell me why it is a good idea to integrate him onto the team when it would serve us much better to let him leave?”

“Princess, I was in charge of Keith and the vast majority of his training before he was officially placed above me in ranking--a transition we never exactly finished,” Shiro explained confidently. “He will be able to tell us the more current weak points in the Empire than I will. He was also partially trained by the Blades of Marmora, as well as being acknowledged by my garrison of troops as one of the best fliers in the Empire’s military—enough to rival Lance and Blue.”

Lance bristled at that, casting his own glare at Keith, only to be met by Keith’s own.

Allura mulled over Shiro’s words for a long moment, staring at Keith and examining him. Taking in his threadbare clothing, lank and greasy hair, his harrowed appearance. Everything.

Eventually, she nodded. “We will discuss it more in the morning, for now, the three of you need to get some rest.” She turned on her heel and walked past Lance as he glared off into the distance, focusing his anger on nothing. “Shiro, show Lord Keith to the bathhouse before taking him to the kitchens. After he has been bathed and fed, show him to one of the open guard rooms in the barracks while I have the palace staff clear out an appropriate room for a man of his previous status. Good evening to all of you.”

And with that, she whisked her way out of the courtyard. A heartbeat later, Lance was turning on his own heel and walking out the courtyard, heading straight to his own quarters to change for dinner. He refused to give Shiro or Keith a second glance as he left.

The next morning proved to be beyond stressful as Lance fought the tides of staff as they cleared out a room barely a few doors down from his in the palace. He scowled at them but continued on his way, ignoring them and Keith as they cleaned the room.

Lance made his way to the courtyard, heading for the smithy to officially talk to Hunk and Pidge about the bow. He buttoned up his thick shirt, trying to edge the wind out.

Allura’s dragon was still in the courtyard, deep gouges in the ground from his claws. Freyan was an impressive dragon, one of the largest Lance had ever seen. The dragon raised his head when Lance entered the open space and watched him cross it over to the smithy. The beast didn’t get up or try to greet Lance, and he got the suspicion that Freyan was just as cool and distant as the Princess.

The smithy was warm and open when he came to the door, a wave of heat washing the chilly air off of him. Topaz greeted him happily from the furnace, his frills flapping and tongue lolling out of his mouth—much like a overgrown, scaled dog. Lance laughed and patted him on the head as he passed the dragon, heading for the back of the smithy where Pidge and Hunk were going over yet more schematics.

“Morning, you two,” Lance greeted, an easy smile on his face, belying the turmoil that was underneath the surface. “Do either of you sleep?”

Pidge looked up and readjusted her glasses. “I’ve always been an early riser, I have to make the most of my day if I want to be productive at all.”

“Habit. Sun is up, I’m up,” Hunk shrugged. The smith stared back down at the schematics, frowning. “We got an order from the Princess and she wants it as soon as possible.”

Lance wandered over and looked over the schematic. It looked as if it was another bow but clearly made for a smaller person than himself. “Did she ask for a bow as well?”

“It’s actually a staff,” Pidge supplied.

“And she wants it out of the glacier wood as well,” Hunk added.

Lance crossed his arms and frowned down at the schematic himself. What did the princess need with a staff now? Was she planning to beat Keith with it in case he was insubordinate?

“Interesting choice for her, that puts her in the middle of fights.”

Hunk nodded, sighing and straightening up from the design. “Exactly, and I don’t like it.”

Kit fluttered into the room through the window and landing on Pidge’s shoulder, trilling at all of them. Pidge looked up at her before turning back to Lance. “Looks like you’re being summoned, Lance.”

The archer sighed and rubbed a temple, suddenly exhausted despite only being awake for maybe four hours. “Did Kit tell you how urgent it was?”

Pidge was quiet for a beat before speaking out loud, “As soon as you’re able. But I wouldn’t waste time, the Princess is still bristling from last night.”

“She’s not the only one,” Lance sighed, but he gave them a mock salute and turned to leave. “Good luck on that staff, let me know if you need a messenger dragon to my supplier.”

“Will do, Lance, good luck!”

He waved Hunk off and left the smithy, shivering as the wind cut through him. Freyan watched him cross the courtyard once again, hurrying to the other side to get inside before the wind did any more to rip what little warmth he had left away from him.

When Lance entered the chamber, only Allura was there, standing at the window. Lance was surprised to see that he was the only one there, no Shiro or Coran to accompany her.

“Princess?”

She turned to face him, smiling warmly at him. “Lance, thank you for coming as soon as possible, I was not sure Kitalia would send the message that quickly.”

Lance chuckled and slumped down into his seat. “Kit is pretty quick about things, very insistent.”

“Good, good.” Allura turned back to the window and watched over the courtyard. The cold from outside could be felt through the window, but the fire that was going at one end of the room kept the space fairly warm.

The two of them were quiet, seemingly waiting for one or the other to start speaking. Lance didn’t know what this was specifically about, but he had a hunch. The only reason why Allura would possibly want to speak to him alone would be to talk about Keith and what all of that meant. The thought of that conversation made his gut twist.

Lance couldn’t be sure as to why he felt that way, but as he thought about it, the more he came back to how Shiro responded. The captain had immediately jumped to the prince’s side, standing up for him, the history they collectively shared, their loyalty to one another. Lance couldn’t beat that with only months of working with Shiro. Months compared to years would always pale and fade away.

What hurt worse was seeing all of that happen, after he was sure that Shiro would be that person for him—he was the only one to show signs of it. Now? Now Lance felt like he was left in limbo, no longer knowing his place and wondering if Keith’s addition to their team would make Lance’s own spot seem temporary in comparison.

He sighed and propped his head up on his fist. “This is a lovely conversation we’re having, Princess, absolutely thrilling.”

Allura laughed lightly and turned around once more, walking toward the interior of the room. “My apologies, Lance, I meant no disrespect.”

“None taken.” He waved her off with his free hand. “Sometimes even the best of us have a lot on their minds and we have to stop and think about it all, you’re no different.”

“I suppose so, thank you for the reassurance, Lance.”

“Any time, Princess.”

She sat down in a chair next to him and both of them sighed at the same time. Glancing at each other, they both smiled and turned back to the map spread across the table in front of them.

Distantly, Lance heard Freyan stretch and yawn from the courtyard and once again he was reminded of how large the dragon was. Dragons that large, normally come from the mountains.

“Princess, this may seem out of the blue, but—” he chuckled a bit at his unintentional pun before continuing. “—but, how did you end up with such an amazing dragon? Freyan is larger than any dragon I’ve seen.”

“Freyan? Oh, he was a normal hatchling, just like any other dragon.”

Lance laughed and shook his head. “Princess, please, there is no way he is from a hatchery.”

She smacked his arm lightly. “He took offense to that and demands you apologize!” she joked, still smiling.

“My apologies, oh great Freyan, what ever shall I do to recant this slight I have said against you?”

Both of them fell into giggles as Freyan groaned from the courtyard, loud enough for nearly the whole castle to hear him. Blue ran into Lance’s mind, demanding to know why Freyan was calling Lance a jester and it only made Lance laugh harder. Imagining Blue running around this beast of a dragon when he himself was barely larger than the biggest horse Altea could provide.

It took a while, but eventually, he and the princess were able to sober themselves and sit quietly in the chamber again—this time, the atmosphere of the room was much more companionable than it had been before.

At some point they began to talk again, just reminiscing in the memories of their dragons being newly hatched, the shenanigans they caused until they matured. At that statement, Lance laughed loudly, tossing his head back and denying that Blue had ever matured. His dragon was still much the same as he was when he was a hatchling.

The whole time they were talking, Lance came to truly appreciate Allura as a person, not just a leader. As his superior, she was amazing—conscious of everyone’s capabilities, respectful, strong, determined. And now, as a person? She was witty, smart, kind, helpful, loving. The stories she told of her younger self, trying to hide this ever-growing dragon with the help of the palace staff as amusing and an exact parallel of how Allura loved Altea. He hadn’t found another person so devoted to anything as Allura was to her dragon and Altea, and he believed he never would.

After what seemed like hours, the two of them drew their conversation to a close as voices from outside the door became louder. Allura moved away, toward the head of the table as Aliain, Kelsus and Fyodr entered the room.

“Princess Allura, to what do we owe the pleasure of meeting with you and the Blue Archer before the rest of the group?” Aliain asked, sitting down across Lance. Kelsus and Fyodr sat on either side of him, equally as pleasant.

Lance looked over his shoulder to Allura as she came back to the table, now sitting at the head of it and no longer next to him. She closed her eyes and then opened them to meet their questioning gazes.

“I have called you earlier than the rest of the group because I wanted to ask your opinions of something,” she explained. “Last night, after the Blue Archer and Captain Shiorgane returned from their retrieval mission, the captain brought back a companion of his from his time with the Galra Empire.”

All four of them remained quiet as she paused, letting the information sink in. Lance’s gut tugged, he knew that this was going to be discussed at the actual meeting. He thinned his lips and waited for Allura to continue.

“Last night, the third prince of the Galra Empire found himself here, escaping his home country in exile.”

“The third prince?” Kelsus asked, his mustache curled down into a deep frown. “I was under the impression that he had been executed for treason.” The other generals nodded along with.

This was news to Lance. When Keith had supposedly been killed, his time was filled with constant missions, and the knowledge he gained was limited to what he knew of his client and targets. Any information that didn’t pertain to them was something he had ignored.

He leaned forward and listened closely to what Allura had to say next.

“Regardless of whether or not he was executed for treason, he is here now in the palace. And as of right now, the four of you, Coran, and my father are the only ones I can trust for advice.”

Lance felt his jaw drop and he gaped at the princess. Aliain, Kelsus, and Fyodr didn’t miss a beat, practically preening in their seats. He shook his head and held up a hand, grabbing Allura’s attention.

“I’m—I’m sorry, but, Princess,” he stuttered out, “Are you sure I am a valid choice? I have my own grudges against the Empire and—”

“Master Blue Archer, while I respect your opinion of yourself, I must disagree.” Allura smiled at him gently. “You have proven to be logical and reasonable when it comes to these situations, and I value your input on the matter.”

She turned back to the generals to address them as well. “I have asked you three here because you were uninvolved in the ploy to have the Blue Archer excommunicated from Altea and her military. While the Blue Archer was capable of making a living for himself, you have not tried to slander his reputation, or undermine my decisions.”

Aliain leaned forward, steepling his hands. “So, what are you asking of us, Princess? This is in regard to the captain bringing a Galran prince back to the palace without communication with you first, yes?”

Allura nodded. “Correct. And I want to be clear: this is not meant to be a slight against the captain and his leadership, but I feel that his judgment might… it might have become clouded with the return of the prince.”

“It’s more than that, Princess,” Lance scoffed. He scowled and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. “Rather than listen to anything I had to say on the matter, Shiro made his own decisions.”

“Is it possible that this prince could be an asset to Altea?” Fyodr asked. “He was a prince, and he might have valuable insight on the Empire that we do not.”

“That was what I wanted to ask all of you,” Allura agreed, folding her hands in front of her. “Lord Keith may be the ally that we need to ensure that another war is avoided. Neither Altea nor the Empire have the resources to fund another.”

The generals were quiet, and Lance was glaring off to the side. He knew this was going to happen. It had barely been a day since Keith had literally fought his way into the palace. He felt Blue shift uneasily on the other side of their bond, unused to the anger Lance was exuding. He was used to new members on a team, he was used to members leaving as well, but none of them came from the other side of the front lines. With the Dragon Archers, Lance never had to worry about their loyalty to Altea. With Keith, it was a completely different story. And now Shiro.

Eventually, the generals each spoke up.

“Princess Allura,” Aliain began, “I believe that when I say this I speak for Kelsus and Fyodr, but inviting Prince Keith to aid us in making sure the Empire does not launch another campaign against Altea would prove beneficial to all of us.”

“He would know more current details than Shiro would,” Fyodr added. Kelsus nodded in agreement, his own words spoken by his compatriots.

When they were done speaking, Allura turned back to Lance, waiting for his decision. He studied her and her expectant expression. He knew Allura to be a rare type of leader; she was one that would always, always , put her country over her wants and needs. Altea was her life, her responsibility, her purpose. She was a born and bred princess, one that was raised to be perfectly capable of leading a country effectively.

And she was looking for his opinion on allowing a prince of their sworn enemy for years—battling through wars and various of diplomatic disagreements—if he would be a person they could trust. And the awful part was, Lance had no idea.

He sighed and shook his head. “Princess, as much as I trust your judgment, this is something that I can’t make a decision on.” Allura opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. “I fought in the war, watched people die, killed countless riders and their dragons alike. What I was forced to do was awful, what I saw the Galra do to our people in response was even worse. I trust Shiro because he saved my life, and he had saved yours. I know nothing about this prince beyond what Shiro has said of him.”

“You do not want to add your opinion to this?” she asked.

Slowly, Lance shook his head. “I don’t, but I will respect the decision you make today, Princess.”

“Is there something you are holding against the Princess, Blue Archer? Her judgment is sound, and she trusts yours,” Kelsus said thoughtfully, leaning forward to pin Lance with a stare. “What is holding you back?”

Lance pinned them with a pointed look. “Those are my reasons.”

Allura sighed and rubbed her temple, suddenly seeming exhausted. “I appreciate the honesty, Blue Archer,” she said. “I believe the four of you have helped me come to my decision. The prince will stay with us until he is proven untrustworthy.”

They all nodded, agreeing with her. Lance knew Keith would be sticking around, he had information that they didn’t—he was needed.

Soon enough everyone else was arriving in the meeting chamber. The generals were slightly surprised to see Aliain, Kelsus, and Fyodr already here and completely ignored Lance. At this point, his presence was only a  formality for the princess, this meeting was simply going to be over deciding Keith’s fate and finding out how he escaped execution.

Lance slouched in his seat, and just before he was completely zoned out, Shiro and Keith walked into the room. He glanced over to see Keith clean and dressed in fresh clothing. The exiled prince certainly looked a lot better compared to his first meeting with Lance. He pulled his gaze away from them, not acknowledge the two.

Shiro and Keith sat at the end of the table closest to Allura, and farthest from Lance. He could feel the team slowly being torn apart by these sudden changes, problem was, he didn’t know if they were avoiding him or the men at the other end of the table.

As soon as everyone was seated, Allura went through the process again, asking each of them what their opinions were of letting Keith stay with them or giving him enough supplies to travel farther beyond Altea. Shiro argued for Keith, while Keith seemed to remain neutral throughout the whole discussion. The generals were split, but Allura seemed to ignore the ones that debated the most—she had made her decision after all.

On occasion, Lance would look around the table and find Keith glaring at him, then he would shake his head and turn back to Allura as she continued to talk. The room was tense, and Lance could feel it seeping into all of them. It was nothing like the light and airy feeling he had when he first arrived to speak with the princess. Now, it felt almost the complete opposite.

And with each passing moment, he wanted to leave the room more and more.

The meeting dragged on. Somewhere along the way, Keith explained how he was tried for treason, but instead of being publicly executed like the rest of the continent had thought, he had been handed over to the second prince, Lotor for torture. He had survived for three years before escaping.

“After I escaped, thanks to the Blades, Amheug and I found a family out in a small farm town. They were welcoming and helped me recover and eventually sent me to find someone who could help me find Shiro.”

“Who did they send you to find?” Allura asked.

Keith swallowed and fidgeted in his seat. If it were anyone else, Lance would have thought the man looked guilty, but right now, all he could see was pain and uncomfortableness.

“They gave me advice and money to find and hire the Blue Archer.”

The room fell dead silent, only the crackle of the fireplace could be heard. Lance’s jaw hung open in shock, mind completely blank.

“Who sent you?”

Keith jerked his head up, seeing Lance looking at him, confused and still utterly shocked. The archer still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Who would send someone to him? He had been with Orbos for months, and no one else he knew was alive or even in the Empire to help a prisoner escape.

“Her name was… She—” Keith struggled to find the right words. He sighed and started over. “The Elvar family. They helped me.”

Rowan.

Of fucking course it was her.

Lance leaned over his knees and scrubbed his face with one hand. He couldn’t—he didn’t want to be in the room anymore. He needed air, needed the wind.

“Princess, I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He stood up and left before Allura could even get a word out.

He ran through the corridors, calling out to Blue. When he burst into the courtyard, Freyan tilted his head to examine Lance but made no move to stop him as he climbed onto Blue’s back. He didn’t even hear the shouts for him to come back.

And if he had, he wouldn’t have stopped.

They took off, Blue pounding his wings through the air, and soon, they were away from the castle, away from the capital, away from everything.

Lance couldn’t even feel the cold. He couldn’t even explain why this was something that was affecting him so much. Maybe he needed to clear his head? Remove himself from the situation?

He hunkered himself over Blue’s shoulders and just gave him an image, words failing him.

He pictured the cabin, out in the middle of the woods, away from everything.

Only one person knew where it was, and Lance already knew it wouldn’t be him to come retrieve Lance again.

But he didn’t care, he needed some time to find himself, again . After months of pulling himself out of that dark mindscape he had been in, one man had simply thrown him back in—and with a mere sentence at that.

Lance shut his eyes, and let Blue take them home.

Chapter Text

As Lance ran out of the room, the chamber literally exploded with commotion. Each of the generals were shouting over each other, Shiro and Coran trying to calm all of them.

Keith sat at the table, utterly confused as to why Lance ran at the mention of his old teammate.

Hunk and Pidge had rushed out after Lance, trying to keep him from leaving, but when they reached the courtyard, he and Blue had already left the courtyard and was high in the sky.

Allura did her best, but no one was listening. She had just watched her charge run from his past and there was nothing that she could do. 

Two Weeks Later

Hunk raised his fingers to his mouth and blew hotly over them. Autumn was definitely coming to an end and traveling was getting harder and harder. But the trip he was returning from had been important.

Strong Heart, he will return. Topaz shook his head huffed as they climbed the hill.

Hunk shook his head. “I don't know if he will, Shiro and Keith aren't really helping.”

He needs time, let him think.

“We will see, let's head back to the palace first.”

It took a few more hours, but eventually, they made it to the palace, tired, cold, and worried. After unsaddling Topaz and heading to the kitchens to thaw and eat, Hunk had just sat down when Allura walked into the room.

She looked exhausted, hair barely contained into her braid, bags under her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. This wasn't the princess that Altea knew, not the strong woman that Hunk had essentially grown up with.

“Princess, you should really take better care of yourself,” he commented.

Allura sighed and sat down heavily next to him, toying with a bread roll. “It has been nearly two weeks, Hunk.”

“He needs time, Allura--”

“We don't have time!” she snapped harshly before sighing again. “I apologize, Hunk, I did not mean to yell.”

He waved her off and ducked into his stew again. “Don't worry about it, no offense taken.”

“Did he say anything?”

Hunk shook his head. “He barely spoke. And Blue wouldn't talk to Tope. So, I don't know if he's coming back.”

Allura started to rip the roll apart in her hands. "I need him, Altea needs him. He has connections the rest of us do not, he has eyes nearly everywhere. Knowledge. Smarts. Initiative. He has so much that he can offer, and it saddens me that he doesn't see that."

“I tried to tell him that, but all he did was offer me tea.”

Allura raised an eyebrow. “Tea?”

“Tea.”

They both shook their heads and turned back to their food.

Hunk and Allura sat in silence, letting the crackling fire in kitchen fill in the quiet. Allura picked at her roll, and Hunk finished off his stew. Staff came and went, letting the two of them sit in silence.

Eventually, Allura came to a decision. She stood from the table. “Get some rest, Hunk, I shall see you later.”

“You need rest, too, Princess.”

“I will rest when I am certain my country’s fate has a chance.” And she left.

. . .

Lance sat out on the porch of his cabin, sipping at his third or fourth cup of tea that day. He didn't have anything else at his cabin, besides a spare set of clothes and knives. Most of his belongings were at the palace.

He sighed sat back against one of the posts. He would move on eventually. Maybe he could go back home, back to Rivertown and just fish his life away. Blue huffed from off to the side, rolling over in his sleep, fish broadcasting through their bond. He smiled and shook his head, looking back out to the trees.

Lance enjoyed the quiet. The soft noise from the woods surrounding him was peaceful, never demanding, just enough of a backdrop that he didn't feel overwhelmed by the lack of people.

But just as the quiet had started ease the leftover tension from living at the palace, meeting expectations, and being involved in so much political drama, the solid whump of wings could be heard over the breeze. Another one. Hunk was nice to see, but he didn't want to talk to another person—he didn't want to go back, so why should he? Allura had all the people she needed and then some. What difference did he make?

Lance closed his eyes and waited. Judging by the wings, it could have been Shion. He took another sip of his tea, letting the warm liquid seep into him. Great, just the person he didn’t want to see. Shiro should really just stick with Keith, the prince needed his presence more than Lance.

The resounding thud, the whole ground shook and Lance felt his whole cabin vibrate from the Shion’s landing. With a petulant sigh, he stood and made his way around to the back of the cabin to be greeted by a snarling dragon.

That was not Shion.

Lance nearly dropped his tea as he watched Freyan stop snarling and rear his head back, looking down on him as if he were simply an insect. He swallowed harshly, gulping down his fear because if Freyan was here… then so was—

“I hope you have a better explanation for why you are out here moping like a kicked dog than simply offering me tea, Lance McClain. I will not be brushed off as easily as Hunk was.”

Lance blinked at the woman striding toward him, her hair windblown and silver strands were falling out of her ponytail, making her appear more upset than she actually was. Her blue eyes flashed and before he knew it, Lance was standing nose to nose with Princess Allura.

“Well?” she demanded, her serious expression never faltering.

He gulped again and fought down the urge to run for the second time. “I—I’m surprised to see you here, Princess.”

“A lot of people were surprised when you left. Now explain to me, why did you leave?”

Lance took a step back, creating some distance between him and the princess and took a sip of his tea which was fast cooling. Blue was peering around the corner of the cabin, looking between him and Freyan who had settled, regally watching his rider and Lance argue.

“My leaving isn’t that big of a surprise, Princess,” Lance said cooly, shoving all of his emotions away. “It shouldn’t cause that much of an issue either, people wanted me gone, so I left.”

Allura practically growled at him. “Do you really think that is the case? Really? Lance, I would not be here, trying to convince you to return to the palace if I did not think that you were—”

“If I was what, Princess? A coward? A liar?” Lance scoffed and turned back around to his cabin. “I’m a lowborn ingrate who managed to become an upstart. A lot of people want me gone, why should it matter that I’m gone or not? You have Keith now.”

Allura closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing her own anger down. She wouldn’t make this worse, she came here to fix this. And by the Ancients, she would. She followed him swiftly, her boots crunching through the frost covered grass. “Lance, you are missing the point; we need you at the palace. Hunk, Pidge, Shiro—”

Lance stopped and turned over his shoulder, glaring. “Princess, you are missing the fact Shiro brought a fucking Galran Prince to the palace.”

She didn’t flinch and kept walking up to him. “A Galran Prince, exile or not, does not hold more value over anyone else in Altea.”

"Oh, that's dragon shit and you know it, Princess." Lance rolled his eyes and continued to head back to his cabin. "I'm a fisherman's son, nothing compared to a prince, or a general."

Allura stopped and nearly clawed out her hair, pulling on it so she wouldn’t hurt something else. She stomped into Lance’s cabin, growling out curses as he knelt next to a fire and poured himself another cup of tea.

“You are awful, absolutely awful.”

He didn’t even stop what he was doing and kept ladling hot water into his cup. “You aren’t the first person to tell me that, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

She groaned and slumped into one of the few seats he had in his cabin, burying her face in her hands. What could she say to change his mind? She needed him. Just like she needed everyone else on that team. It had a chance of surviving without him, but she couldn’t risk it. Her country was at stake, and she needed Lance.

With a tired sigh, she lifted her head and looked at Lance, shoulders slack and hair hanging limply around her face and shoulders. “What can I say to make you come back? It’s been two weeks, Lance, two utterly horrible weeks. The generals have been trying to assassinate Prince Keith, Captain Shirogane has been tasked with keeping him safe. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.”

Lance watched her slowly stop talking, standing in front of the fire and simply listening. He could see that she had been struggling with everything. The bags under her eyes, the way her hair seemed to have dulled… this wasn’t Princess Allura trying to speak to him. It was Allura of Altea. That was all.

He sipped his tea, letting the warm liquid wash through him and make a meager attempt at trying to thaw him out.

“Sounds to me that you are more interested in keeping Keith alive than anything else.”

“He has information that we do not, I just have not had the chance to find out the specifics.”

“Again, I’m not seeing a reason to come back?” Lance said, finding his own seat. “It has nothing to do with you, Princess, I know that you are trying your best, but I don’t see a reason for me to be on the team with Keith there. If I know Rowan as much as I think I do, I know that she has trained him somewhat before sending him off. She’s like that. And, on top of that, Shiro said he had some training with the Blades of Marmora.”

She glared weakly at him. “You say that as if I truly know what that means.”

“The Blades are a prestigious assassin’s guild. All of them are well trained.”

Allura nodded and brushed back her hair. Everything about Lance was hard to read, to understand. He thought so differently compared to everyone else. He didn’t worry about what people thought of him, he shrugged off nearly every insult that was thrown at him like water off a dragon’s scales. He was calm, collected. The one time she had seen him visibly upset was the evening he left. The sheer amount of panic washing off of him in waves, the realization of what her decision had meant to him, how everything had happened so fast…

He had lost his footing, and leaving was his way of getting back on solid ground. And now that he was there, she could see that he didn't want to leave.

“Regardless of his abilities, we still need you, Lance.”

He shook his head and stared into his cup. “I can’t, Princess, I simply can’t. There’s no point in it.”

Her anger sparked again. "What do you mean, you cannot? No point? Lance, I believe you are being disillusioned from your past because you are an intrinsic part of this team. I have told you this before, and I am saying it now: you are important."

Lance raised an eyebrow and took another sip of tea. “Princess, I was important to my team back then. I lead them to the best of my abilities, while most of them were older than me by decades in some cases. I went against the Generals’ plans, I barely followed orders to begin with. I was an upstart. Always will be.”

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met,” Allura growled, dropping her head into her hands again. “Is it so bad at the palace that you do not want to come back?”

Lance was quiet for a moment, thinking. It wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be, he was positive that things would sort themselves out over time. It was just a matter of whether or not he wanted to suffer through all of it. Some of the war generals were nice, but most wanted him dead. Shiro had been a great friend, but as soon as Keith came into the picture, Lance wasn't so sure his loyalties were in the right place anymore. Hunk and Pidge? He would love to spend more time with them but at the palace? Where he had to meet all sorts of expectations?

No thanks, he would pass on that.

“I don’t know, Princess,” he said honestly. “I really don’t. Too many people wanting me gone, it doesn’t seem worth it.”

“You are wrong, so, so, so, wrong, Lance…” She simply… she didn’t care anymore. She was done parading herself around and creating this image of wanting to be liked and respected. She wanted to be herself, to make wry comments and have it mean nothing, she wanted so many things that she knew she couldn’t have. Allura was more than familiar with the fact that she was going to be a queen, it wasn’t like she was ever allowed to forget.

Yet, she was going to be a queen, doesn’t that make it so her word was final? Ancients knew at this point.

He shrugged and finished off his tea, gulping it down and sighing as he pulled his cup away from his mouth. “I’ve been wrong a lot of times, Princess. This time isn’t any different.”

Lance stood up and walked to a different side of the house, depositing his cup in a bucket and heading back outside.

The sun was setting, casting its warm glow over the hills surrounding his cabin. Beneath his feet, the ground was still frozen from the morning frost, and he knew that winter was around the corner. It wouldn’t be long till snow was coming. Freyan watched him and made no move to get up. Blue was close to him, feeding off the warmth of gigantic dragon.

He sat down on the ground and sighed, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. Lance heard the quiet footsteps of Allura’s boots come out behind him. She sighed as well as she sat down next to him, drawing her knees up and hugging them close, making her look small and vulnerable.

Lance continued to stare out over the hills, letting the silence fall over them in a thick blanket. He wanted the silence to last longer but, there was one thing stuck in his mind.

“Princess… why did you come here? Why not just… Why not let me go?”

And the silence returned.

Allura took a deep breath. “I… I do not know…”

Lance looked over at her, eyebrows raised. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t,” she said simply, still looking at the hills. “It is hard to tell what I want anymore. Being a princess is not easy.”

“No one said it would be,” Lance chuckled, turning back to the hills. “Being a leader in any sense isn’t easy. If it were, everyone would do it.”

She huffed. “Of course that would be something you say.”

They fell silent again, the cold breeze rustling what little leaves were still on the trees. Freyan barely moved, his neck arched, and wings relaxed, it looked as if he were asleep. Blue was next to him, already unconscious. Their dragons were quiet, just like they were.

Allura couldn’t find a reason to truly want Lance back at the palace. She had thought that Shiro would be her friend to go to, for anything. And for a while, he had been. But with the arrival of Keith at the palace, she had been left in a precarious political position. Allowing Keith to remain at the palace, and to use him as an asset, had created dissent amongst the generals.

And now they were more than likely staging a coup while she was here, trying to get Lance to return with her.

Now she had no friend, none of her court was trustworthy outside of Coran. Shiro was on shaky ground, and Keith had to prove himself.

Lance had done that. He had done that before he even came to the palace. He was a veteran of war, a war he joined far too young, not much younger than her really. She just wasn’t on the front lines. He was. He saw much more than her. Looking at Blue, that was where his childishness when to hide.

Slowly, she just leaned over onto Lance’s shoulder. He froze and slowly looked down at her. She was still staring out through woods, eyes tired and sad.

“Princess?”

“I know what I need, not as a princess, but as a person,” she said quietly.

Lance paused for a moment. Her demeanor had changed from wild and angry to quiet and still, and he knew that look. He saw it in himself when he looked in the mirror. He sighed before shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I think I know what you mean,” he replied.

She looked up at him. “Do you?”

“Everyone needs a friend, Princess, even royalty.”

“So… you want to be my friend?” The implications of this were complicated, a princess almost never had true friends in the sense they were always someone they could turn to. And here was a man, one of the first to have no sort of romantic implication toward her, offering to be her friend.

Lance shrugged, jostling her slightly. “You need someone who isn’t tied politically to anyone, no ulterior motives, none of that. I agreed to join your team with Shiro because I don’t want to go to war again, and if that meant, I had to fight just a little bit longer, so be it. But another war?” He shook his head. “I would rather die than fight in another war.”

Allura hummed and looked back out into the woods. “So, no strings attached… such a rare thing.”

"The only other person I know who comes close to ‘no dragon shit' is Hunk, but he's not a fighter."

“Neither is Lady Holt, but she wants revenge for her family. General Sendak was an awful bastard.”

Lance chuckled, covering his mouth with his free hand. “I can’t believe a well-refined princess like you has a foul mouth such as that!”

“Shove off,” Allura groused and jabbed him in the side with her elbow. Lance yelped and kept laughing, but she was laughing with him. “I believe that after I am friends with you long enough, it will be worse.”

“Mm, maybe, I’ve been known to tame myself, sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s true!”

Allura laughed. “Of course, Lance, of course.”

“You have no faith in me, do you, Princess?”

“Allura.”

Lance blinked. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Call me Allura, Lance.” She looked back up at him, still pressed against his side. “I feel that we do not need to worry about formalities anymore.”

“If you say so... Allura,” Lance huffed.

They relaxed, watching the sun set further and further behind the hills. The darker it got, both of them realized that eventually, they would have to return. They couldn't stay the night out at Lance's cabin, the scandal it would cause would be worse than Keith's existence being announced.

And when the last bit of sunlight fell behind the hills, the two of them silently stood.

Freyan opened his dark purple eyes and yawned. My Queen, are we leaving?

Allura smiled at her dragon. “Yes, Freyan, we should be leaving soon.”

Lance stretched behind her and called for Blue to wake up. His dragon groaned and rolled over, claws in the air.

Bright Eyes, I do not want to go back to the castle… can we stay?

Lance looked at Allura and watched as she was swaying on her feet, barely able to reach her dragon. She hid her pain and exhaustion so well when she was a princess, but as a person, she was ready to collapse. He smirked and rolled his eyes, sending a silent confirmation to Blue before putting a hand on Allura’s shoulder.

“Allura, as much fun as going back to that palace sounds like, you need sleep.”

Allura narrowed her eyes at him. “And I can sleep at the palace.”

“You can barely stand, let alone fly.”

She snorted. “As if that has stopped you before.”

Lance sighed and turned her around to head back to his cabin. "Yeah, and it fucking sucked. I fell off Blue and he had to catch me in the middle of the night. I wouldn't suggest it to anyone, so, you're staying here for the night."

Allura, scowled at him, but barely put up a fight either way. “Fine, but only for a few hours.”

“We will leave in the morning, and no earlier.”

“Do you always drive this hard of a bargain?”

“Better believe it, Princess.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Gets the point across though. Now c’mon, let’s get you in bed.”

“Fiiinnneee…”

Lance shook his head and pushed Allura toward his cabin. He would find somewhere else to sleep, she could sleep in his bed.

Getting her into his cabin a second time really wasn’t much harder than the first. Allura was exhausted and Lance almost felt the need to pick her up and just carry her to his room. But as soon as he convinced her to sleep in the bed, she was out, unconscious before she hit the pillow. Lance sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She really needed to stop pushing herself too hard.

"Good night, Allura," he whispered, pulling his blankets higher over her and placing a gentle kiss on her head—a gesture he hadn't done since he had last seen his siblings.

With that, he left his cabin to go curl up with Blue, leaving Allura to sleep in his cabin undisturbed.

Earlier that Day

Shiro wandered the halls, looking for the princess. She hadn’t been seen since she took Freyan out to hunt. And even then, her dragon didn’t need her to go with. Maybe she needed space?

He sighed and continued to walk around, patrolling. Keith had been in his room most of the past two weeks, only coming out to burn off the pent-up energy. Often times, he would be practicing his swordplay in the training yard. Shiro had to argue with Keith fiercely about giving him an escort while in the palace. At least, until things settled down.

So, with Keith sulking like a child, he had his second, Taric, there to guard Keith. The first few days had proven that Keith was a target, with Allura focusing on keeping everything afloat, he knew he would only be a nuisance to her if he tried to help. He kept his guard at their best, kept Keith safe, and kept an eye out for any of the assassins that have been lurking around.

The princess was… Shiro had a hard time trying to pinpoint what was wrong. She had grown a lot in the last few years. Allura had grown into a strong woman, one that he was happy to serve. Yet, he felt that she was beginning to lose focus. Her determination had developed into stubbornness, a stubbornness that was unshakable. Keeping the Empire out of Altea was a reasonable goal, honorable even, but as Allura got farther and farther along in her mission, he felt that her focus was becoming too narrow. He had seen this with Zarkon, his focus became so fixed on obtaining resources that he lost sight of the condition of his own country in the process. The Empire was a failing country, had been since the end of the war. He feared that Allura was heading down that very path.

He also feared that he wouldn’t be able to help her.

And that scared him more than anything. He had built his entire image on wanting to help—it was the reason why he joined the military in the first place and how he climbed the ranks to be a commoner amongst the nobles in Zarkon’s council. Then, after he had left the Galra Empire, he had traveled and stumbled upon the royal family fighting off bandits as they were traveling home. It was purely coincidence that he was there and able to help. Alfor had offered him a spot on the guard right there.

Shiro sighed and went to go talk with Keith.

Taric was standing guard outside the door and Keith was quiet inside. His second snapped to attention when he saw Shiro coming.

“At ease,” Shiro commanded as he stopped next to him. “How has the day been?”

“Nothing to report, sir. Lord Keith has been in his rooms all day and has only asked for food to be brought to him.”

“Sounds like him. You can take a break and get a meal yourself, I’ll be with him.”

Taric saluted. “Hope the assassins have gotten the message, finally.”

“Agreed.” Shiro clapped him on the shoulder as he left. He waited until Taric had rounded the corner before knocking on Keith’s door and entering. “Keith?”

When Shiro looked around the room, he saw no sign of Keith. Empty bed, no sound from the closets or changing rooms.

He called out for Keith a few more times before he spotted the open window. Immediately he was reaching out to his dragon

Shion, find Am.

Of course. Shion responded promptly, and Shiro caught her shadow as she started to circle the palace.

He went to the window and leaned out, looking all around for Keith. There was little trace of him, and ruefully, Shiro cursed his Blade training; it made finding Keith that much harder. Shiro exited the window and slammed it shut out of frustration. Damn him, now was not the time to be exploring on his own.

Shiro left his room and jogged out to the room and out to the courtyard. Shion circled once more before landing.

They are not here, but I know where they went.

“Good, let’s go.” Shiro climbed onto her back.

Shion took off and made a beeline for the forests to the north. It was a strange direction for Keith to travel in, but the farther away from the Empire the safer he was. Shiro simply hoped that the assassins hadn’t been the ones to get him and Amheug and that they had left of their own volition.

After a few minutes of flying, Shion landed heavily, causing the ground to shake and for birds to take off from their perches in the trees. Shiro jumped down to the ground and looked around. “Where are they?” he asked.

The wind carries their scent from the west, Shion replied, sniffing the air.

He began the slow trek through the trees, hoping to find them along the way. Some branches were broken and hanging off of other limbs. There were deep scratches on some of the trunks; Shiro picked up his pace, fearing the worst.

The next clearing offered a gruesome sight. Three dead bodies and two dragons lay on the ground, slashed and gouged to shreds. Keith and Amheug both stood in the center of the circle, panting and covered in blood.

“Keith! What happened?” Shiro ran up to him and helped steady him, barely catching him from falling over.

“Stupid assassins… they came in through the window.”

He slung Keith’s arm over his shoulders and began the trek back to Shion. “The window, really?”

“The fucking window, Shiro.” Keith winced and stumbled slightly as they walked. This was not what he was expecting coming to Altea. A boot out the door maybe, but not assassination attempts.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, thankfully. But that was exhausting.”

Shiro shook his head and readjusted his grip on Keith. Getting him back to the castle and to a healer was easier said than done. Having failed to mention that he had been cut deeply on his arm, Keith nearly fell off of Shion when they took off. Amheug was a frightful mess, worrying over her rider like a mother dragon.

The guards that saw them coming back were quick to clear the courtyard of anyone as Shion came down. Shiro directed one of them to get a healer and bring them to Keith’s room as he helped the man off the back of his dragon. It took far longer in Shiro’s opinion to get Keith back to his room and out of sight of everyone, but somehow, they made it.

Once Keith was stitched up and resting did Shiro finally feel some semblance of relief.

“There was really no need to worry, Shiro.” Keith had his eyes closed, looking ready for sleep, but was still sitting up in his bed.

“Assassins are after you. That’s every reason to worry.”

Keith cracked one eye open. “So? I expected it when I decided to stay.”

When he decided to stay. Shiro shook his head and rubbed a temple, his body suddenly becoming weary. “Why did you decide to stay? Why stay when you knew that you were going to be attacked almost every day of the week?”

The exiled prince looked at the wall across from him, avoiding looking at Shiro. “I stayed because I felt that I would serve more help here than trying to leave either country.”

Shiro recognized the slight frown that was on Keith’s face. Raising an eyebrow, he hummed. “That’s now all of it, is it?”

And just like that, Keith scowled at him, sinking into a pout. “I hate that you know everything about me.”

“Makes it easier to know when you want to pull a hair-brained plan or something else equally dangerous.” Shiro shrugged and leaned against Keith’s desk. “So, what’s the real reason?”

Keith groaned, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish as he struggled to find the right words. “I… I didn’t—ugh, fine. I didn’t want to lose my best friend again. Happy?”

Shiro smiled. "At least you were honest, finally. Though, I'm surprised that you're not sticking around to help fell the Empire since that was all you talked about when we were committing treason."

“Goes along with being useful,” Keith said flippantly. He re-adjusted himself against his pillows, wincing slightly when he moved his recently bandaged arm.

“Just be careful, with all these attempts on your life, it makes things more difficult for everyone.”

“Everyone excluding the Archer it seems.”

“That’s…” Shiro sighed. “That’s a complicated subject…”

“Complicated how?”

“Lance is… difficult isn’t quite the right word, but it’ll do for now—but Lance is difficult to reign in sometimes. Both the Princess and I have had issues.”

“Debatable,” Keith scoffed. “Ever since I’ve been here, even with the Archer gone, Princess Allura has been worried about him. I don’t call that having ‘issue’ with someone.”

“The princess doesn’t see Lance that way—”

“Sorry Shiro, but I think you’ve been blinded by being too close to the problem.”

The captain frowned at Keith who raised an eyebrow in return. “I have not been blinded by being close with the Princess and Lance.”

Both eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never defended yourself or another person so much since the time you wanted to leave, so…” Keith hummed in disbelief. Shiro wanted to knock him upside the head like he used to when Keith got snippy with him when he was younger. Shiro fought to keep all the patience he had left still with him. If anything, Keith had taught him that in droves.

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about, Keith.”

Keith eyed his mentor and shrugged, raising his hands in defeat. Shiro narrowed his eyes, not believing for a second that Keith had just given up on an argument. "I don't know what you want me to say, Shiro. I'm just pointing out the fact that Princess Allura looks to be falling for the Blue Archer. Follows the lines of so many fairy tale stories where the unobtainable princess is swept away by a commoner, no?"

“The first time Lance and the Princess even talked outside of meetings was when you arrived,” Shiro objected. “Beyond that, it has always been in the presence of others.”

Keith nodded slowly, false agreement leaking out of him. “Sure. That you know of.”

An exasperated sigh left Shiro. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, appealing to whatever deity was watching over them to give him the patience to deal with Keith. It was the pain medication making him this flippant, it wasn’t him doing this to get under Shiro’s skin like every other time before.

“I’m the Captain of the Royal Guard, Keith. Making sure that she is protected at all times is my job. I would know if she was seeing Lance outside of our regular meetings. Lance also knows better than to even try; he has no mind for getting involved with royalty, or any authority for that matter.” He stood up from the desk and walked to the door. “Get some rest, I’ll have Taric bring you dinner when it’s ready.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Shiro.”

After Shiro shut the door behind him, Keith slumped against the pillows. He felt worse than he was letting on, but at least the medicine the Altean healer gave him was working. The assassins that caught him were… he wanted to say that they were Blades but when he had pulled the masks off, he hadn’t recognized any of them.

He slid the rest of the way down, yawning widely as he settled himself for a much-needed nap. He could worry about the assassins afterward.

The Next Morning  

In the morning, Lance woke up slightly frozen and stiff. Blue was still curled up around him, but so was Freyan, much to his surprise. He stretched before extracting himself and stumbling toward his cabin, cracking his neck and back along the way. He wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside on the ground, but it was the polite thing to do in this case.

When he walked in, Allura was already up and pouring herself a cup of tea.

“Mornin’” he greeted, grabbing himself his own cup and handing it to her to pour.

“Good morning,” Allura responded. Her hair was a little more tamed, having redone her ponytail. The bags under her eyes were less pronounced and she looked well-rested. “Did you sleep well?”

He shrugged and sipped his tea. "Nothing worse than during the war. Blue didn't mind."

She smiled at him. “I’m sure he didn’t. Freyan seems to not mind either.”

Lance looked out one of his windows and saw Freyan and Blue still curled up around each other. He turned back to Allura and took another sip. “Certainly looks that way. How did you sleep?”

“Wonderful, thank you for making me rest, I needed it.” She sipped on her own tea.

“Good, good.” Now things felt awkward, and they shouldn’t, but Lance couldn't shake the feeling that something was supposed to have happened. Yet, he was really glad something didn’t. (He really would like to avoid that conversation with the King and his Advisor.)

They drank their tea in comfortable silence; for the most part, Lance still had a sneaking suspicion in his gut saying that things were going to go wrong, or they already were. But he had to get Allura back to the palace… and apologize to Hunk.

He drained the last dregs of tea in his cup. Then set about closing up his cabin, preparing it for the winter months. He shut all the windows and the chimney, then tossed blankets over everything to prevent dust. He had no idea when he would be back to this place, but he wanted it to be secure, just in case, he did come back. Allura helped where she could. There was no food he had to worry about since he had taken to hunting nearly every day for small game.

With everything cleaned and locked up, they left his small cabin in the woods, hopping on their dragons’ backs and taking off.

Lance lived about an hour’s long flight away from the castle, but if no one had any idea of where they were looking, it would take days or weeks to find him. Once he was found, the flight was a small pause in anyone’s day.

Blue flew out in front of Freyan, easily outpacing him in the air. It was really only in the air that Lance was able to appreciate how large Freyan is. His wings were a shimmering mulberry, matching the sky as the sun rose higher. The swirling marks along his body made him look like a wraith made of smoke and magic.

Allura couldn’t even sit on her dragon. She rode with no saddle, instead she stood, one hand on her dragon’s mane and the other confidently placed on her hip. Lance smirked. She even rode a dragon like a princess--a warrior princess.

The sun was well into the sky by the time the palace came into view. He felt Blue shudder before he rolled through the air, nearly causing Lance to lose his grip.

“The hell, Blue?”

Bright Eyes, there are many raised voices coming from the castle.

Lance glared down at the building as they circled. He could see some dragons flapping their wings in agitation all around the castle and in its courtyard. Glancing back, he saw Allura peering down as well, seeing the same thing. She caught his gaze and nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Lance signaled to Blue to dive toward the courtyard. Freyan wasn't far behind but choose to circle instead, his claws meeting the ground gracefully while Blue dropped the last few feet.

Everything imploded when they both landed.

Allura didn’t even get the chance to dismount from Freyan before the generals were on her like vultures, Lord Nazoc in the lead.

“Where have you been, Princess Allura? What if something happened? We had no way to reach you!”

“Lord Nazoc, I assure you that everything was fine, and nothing was going to happen.” She slipped into her role as princess quickly, pulling herself out of her tired slouch and displaying an air of strength and poise. Honestly, Lance was impressed when he stepped foot on the ground.

“Princess Allura, need I remind you that galivanting off with a commoner is frowned upon and a stain on your reputation?” Nazoc continued, ignoring her previous comment. He glared at Lance but kept lecturing Allura. “The Blue Archer is not someone you can trust to value your virtue, Princess, you must keep that in mind if you wish to remain marriable.”

Lance could see her glare slowly freeze over and feel his cold fingers wrap around them, This wasn’t going to end well, he remarked to himself. He looked between the two of them, eyes wide. Freyan growled lowly and Lance just knew Allura was ready to lose her composure.

With all of the commotion out in the courtyard as Nazoc continued to rant at Allura, her patience ever thinning, the arrival of King Alfor and Advisor Coran went unnoticed. They appeared out of nowhere on either side of Lance, watching Allura take a verbal lashing from one of her generals.

Coran leaned over to mumble in Lance’s ear. “I must say, Lance, you certainly do not make things easy, do you?”

Lance looked at him out of the corner over his eye. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What he means to say is you never cease to cause a scene,” King Alfor replied evenly, “After my daughter disappeared yesterday, she was gone for a full night and well into the morning.”

Lance gulped, anxiety beginning to drip down his spine.

“And what King Alfor is saying,” Coran added, “is that he sincerely hopes that you did not defile the Princess last night.”

“Or consequences will be wrought, Lance McClain, despite your position in my daughter’s mission.”

Lance swallowed again, harder than last time. “I promise on the Ancients, I did nothing to Princess Allura last night. I simply made her rest.”

Both men nodded and watched Allura and Nazoc argue.

“Lord Nazoc, do you not think that lecturing me is not your place?” she was saying.

The general didn’t even flinch at her icy tone. “The fact of the matter, Princess, is that you spent the night with a commoner and have proven to be ignorant in leading. Your decision to accept the Blue Archer onto this team, despite his background, and allowing the exiled prince of the Galra Empire to stay here demonstrates this.”

Allura’s eyes flashed. “Lord, Nazoc, I advise that you watch your words.”

“I will not, it is about time that someone puts you in your place, Princess,” he scolded, narrowing his eyes are her. “And as highest ranking general, I am suggesting that you step down from your position on this preemptive war counsel.”

Palace staff was beginning to gather around the edges of the courtyard as Nazoc went on and on about Allura's leadership. Enough so that Lance seriously considered pointing a knife at the general's neck. He heard whispers all around them, he heard the dragon's shifting uneasily. Blue wanted to leave again, the tense atmosphere forcing back to his war dragon days. Freyan settled next to him, wrapping his tail around Blue's feet, attempting to reassure him.

Lance turned his attention back to the Princess and the line of generals before her. She was seething—not in the way the generals were, but her shoulders were tight and her expression livid. He cast a quick glance as Alfor, who was watching his daughter with a concerned frown, but he was making no move to intervene.

This was her fight, a test of seeing what kind of queen she would be in the years to come.

Then at the very end of the courtyard, Lance caught sight of Shiro and Keith running in, sweating and breathing heavily. They had been training, and what seemed for a long time despite the bandage that was on Keith’s arm. He glared at them briefly before turning back to Allura.

And just as he did so, the unspeakable happened.

“Princess Allura, I must ask you to step down from this council. Altea needs strong leaders, and I cannot—”

Allura held up a hand, cutting him off immediately.

“Give me your sword,” she demanded.

Nazoc sputtered, “Princess A-Allura, I—I cannot simply—My sword is not a toy.”

Her glared seared through him. “Your sword. Now, general, or Ancients help me, I will take it from you.”

Nazoc inhaled sharply and jerkily pulled his sword out, handing it to Allura hilt first.

She took the sword and stalked past him and the line of generals before her, making her way for Lance. Alfor and Coran stepped away and Lance was left standing before a raging princess for the second time in a twenty-four hour period.

“Oh Ancients…” he cursed as Allura raised her voice for the whole courtyard to hear.

“Captain Lance McClain, the Blue Archer, please kneel.”

Without hesitating, Lance knelt before her, more Altean curses running through his head.

She raised the sword and continued to speak. “I, Crown Princess Allura Orcalalion of Altea, the heir to the throne, hereby knight, you, Captain Lance McClain, the Blue Archer. As I ask you these three questions, answer them honestly and without hesitation.”

Lance nodded and bowed his head.

“My Princess, you cannot be—”

Allura spoke louder, drowning out Lord Nazoc. “Do you, Captain Lance McClain, the Blue Archer, promise to uphold the values of Altea, with all of your heart and spirit?”

“I do.”

“Do you, Captain Lance McClain, the Blue Archer, promise to allow the Ancients to guide you through difficult times, letting them show you their path, as hidden as it may be, with the assurance that they will not lead you astray and always return you back to Altea?”

“I do.”

Lord Nazoc stomped up to them and made to stand between Allura and Lance, but Coran was there to hold him back, his grip surprisingly strong. He shouted at her to stop, but Allura continued, staring down at Lance’s head, blocking everything and everyone out.

“Do you, Captain Lance McClain, the Blue Archer, promise to uphold throne, regardless of who is the crown leader of Altea, whether it be myself, Princess Allura Orcalalion of Altea, or my father, King Alfor Orcalalion of Altea, for the throne relies on you, as much as you rely on the throne for guidance. You will follow the code of chivalry and customs of all knights in Altea. Do you promise to do this?”

“I do.”

She lowered the sword to tap Lance on the shoulders, knighting him in front of everyone in the courtyard. “Then I, Crown Princess Allura Orcalalion of Altea, hereby declare you a Knight of Altea. Please rise, Sir Knight.”

Lance stood, gaping at Allura, who smiled at him, a small but confident one. Yet, their moment of reprieve was short-lived. Lord Nazoc shook off Coran and stomped over, getting in Allura's face.

“A knighting does not save him, Princess Allura. He will still have to answer to us, the war generals. Knights fight for Altea, and while we are preparing for war, they all are under our jurisdiction. Doing this still forces you to choose between the prince and the Archer.”

“You forget that I am well-versed in the terms of war within Altea, Lord Nazoc. I am this country’s heir.” Allura’s voice was steely, just like the sword that was tightly gripped in her hand. “You cannot and will not force me to choose anything.”

If it weren’t for the multitude of people here in the courtyard, Lance had reason to believe that Allura would have stabbed the general through the stomach to get him to shut up.

Next thing they all knew, Shiro was striding toward them, confused beyond all belief. Allura narrowed her eyes at him but didn't address him as he stopped near them.

“Princess, is everything alright?” he asked.

Lord Nazoc waved him off. “Captain Shirogane, everything is perfectly fine. Please see Sir McClain to the dungeons. A trial needs to be set to determine if the Princess has been defiled by his commoner seed.”

Lance bristled, finally speaking for himself. “I did no such thing to the princess, you filthy-minded bast—”

“Lance, that is enough.” Allura cut him off and pushed Nazoc off to the side. She raised her voice once more. “Let it be known, for all those here as witnesses, that Sir McClain, newly knighted, previous captain over one of Altea’s most esteemed squadrons in the military, and renowned Blue Archer, is now my personal Spectre.”

There were gasps all around the courtyard. Nazoc was seething, practically frothing at the mouth. Shiro, Alfor, and Coran all had their eyebrows raised. There were whispers all around them as the staff watched everything happen.

And Lance?

Oh, he was sure he finally lost it.

He sputtered, trying to hold back his laughter, the irony of the situation throwing him into hysterics. Ancients, what had he done to be tossed into all of this political drama? How did he end up here, despite all the effort he went through to remain uninvolved with the generals and any of their deceitful games? And yet, here he stood, the Princess’s personal Spectre. He didn’t even know what it was!

Lance put a hand to his mouth as he tried—and was failing—to hold back his ill-timed laughing fit. Nazoc was sputtering, looking between him and Allura, who wore the smuggest smirk on her face—and Ancients, that made him laugh harder. Everyone else around the courtyard frowned at him as his hysterical laughter filled the silence.

Nazoc cleared his throat and tried to gather himself. “Princess Allura, I must say that it is incredibly juvenile of you to create a position just to save this man from trial.”

"Actually, Lord Nazoc," Alfor said over Lance's suppressed giggling, and placing an intimidating hand on the general's shoulder. "A Spectre has been a long-vacant position that Altean royalty has not had a need for." He glanced at his daughter. "That is, until today."

Coran stepped forward nodding from just behind Alfor’s shoulder. “A Spectre is a high-ranking member of the Altean court, an extension of whoever they are pledged to. Sir McClain here, now only answers to the Princess and anyone else he chooses. He will act as her eyes and ears outside of the palace, and her personal protection whenever he is not sent out to gather information. A Spectre has not been in Altea’s court for nigh on a hundred year.”

Nazoc whipped his head to sneer at the princess. “You made a commoner your Spectre? Are you out of your mind?”

Allura looked down her nose at Nazoc, drawing herself to her full height, and stepped forward into Nazoc’s face, practically biting out her words. “You—you have no say over my decisions, Lord Nazoc. If you wish to persist on the issue, I will not hesitate to try you and your other cohorts for treason against Altea for Thorne’s Keep.”

Alfor lifted his hand from Nazoc’s shoulder and allowed the man to step away from Allura.

“P-Princess, you—you can’t—”

She took another step, following him. “I can, and I will. Push me one more time, and you will never see the light of day and your estates, money, power, reputation, all of it will be nothing on the wind.”

Lance pulled himself together enough to put a hand on Allura’s shoulder, forcing her back from literally biting the man’s nose off. “I think what the Princess is trying to say is she would kill you right here for insulting her—and I would as well, but I'm too busy laughing.” He chuckled, still trying to keep himself together, but then his next idea struck him, and he lost it again. “Make—make him the court—the court jester, oh Ancients, end me, Nazoc, the Jester.”

The general's face nearly turned purple with rage and he whirled away from them, stomping his way inside, muttering curses under his breath. Lance was still cackling to himself, holding Allura back from chasing after him. "Princess, haha, just let him go, he can't do anything now."

She shook off his hand and straightened her outfit, pushing her windblown hair out of her face. After a few moments of glaring at the rest of the generals in Nazoc’s entourage, they sulked out of the courtyard when it was clear that Allura wasn’t going to rescind her decision. Shiro was still standing there, mouth agape at what had just happened. Keith was standing at the one end, arms crossed, and face pulled into a confused frown.

So much had just happened in the few minutes since they had landed in the palace courtyard, and Lance just rolling in the irony of it all. Allura had gone to lengths he didn’t think were possible to save him from another unfair trial. He continued to laugh as he steered the Princess away from the crowd and toward the end of the courtyard leading to the training grounds.

“C’mon Princess, before you actually kill someone, let’s have you kill some targets, yeah?” he suggested.

Allura huffed at him and glanced back at her father. He nodded to her and turned to Coran, both of them walking back toward the main sections of the castle. She turned back around and sighed. "Will I be able to use your bow?"

Lance beamed at her. “Sure, if you want to.”

She nodded. “The stronger the bow, the better at this point.”

“Mhm, of course, Princess”

They passed Keith, not even acknowledging him as they continued to tiredly bicker with each other, Lance humming and nodding along to whatever Allura said. He watched them go over his shoulder, not missing the way they were walking so close to each other.

He stared thoughtfully after them, wondering why Allura had put up such a fight for either of them. He understood where the generals were coming from, he was from the enemy, untrusted and untested compared to Shiro. Even then, looking at his long-time friend, Keith saw his confusion. Shiro was thinking the same thing as him, or at least, along the same lines.

Allura’s and Lance’s sudden camaraderie was a drastic change from the way Allura seemed to barely acknowledge Lance’s existence. Yet she had gone after him when Lance had fled from the meeting chamber after Keith had dropped Rowan’s surname. Her journal burned in the back of his mind, the picture a flash fire on his desk.

Without a word, Keith nodded to Shiro and decided to head back to his room to think. Over the past two weeks, Keith had come to realize that Rowan had been wrong about somethings in regard to the Blue Archer. She had seen a man who could do no wrong and had been lead astray by those in authority. He had witnessed how broken the Archer was—how Lance was—and he had no idea why he was that way.

Throughout his travels, he had heard tales of how strong and virtuous the Blue Archer was, a man of the people, fighting for them. But war had changed him…and something else. Something that Keith didn’t know about. It had to be an event that was recent, for no one who had time to process would have reacted the way Lance had when it came to digging up people from his past. As far as Keith knew, Rowan was one of the last sole members of the Dragon Archers left alive outside of Lance. And Lance had reacted as if his whole team was dead.

The shock on his face had been enough of a hint to make that clear to Keith.

He shook his head and sighed. The two of them were not what he was expecting when Shiro brought him back to the palace. Well, convinced him more like.

Keith opened the door to his room and made his way over to his desk where Rowan’s journal sat. He picked it up and leafed through it, stopping on the page where he had clipped the team picture. Frowning at it, he tried to find the differences between the Blue Archer and the man he knew now.

There were hardly any, the biggest would be the way Lance’s eyes were tired, seeing through him, but not seeing him. Keith sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t believed Rowan when she told him how Blue was a bright spirit, free and wayward. Keith had seen the wayward part; his absence the past two weeks was a prime example. But Keith couldn’t see the free part, if anything, Lance was tied down more than ever now. To the princess no less.

Another sigh escaped him, and Keith set down the journal to get up and pace as he thought. It came back to Shiro bringing him back, and Allura deciding that he was worth something, enough to be worth keeping. But the way the generals had seen it this morning, she was being forced to choose. And in retrospect, he could understand why. An exiled prince and an upstart were bound to cause trouble in the court.

And Shiro had missed that when he brought Keith back. (Keith already knew that Shiro didn’t think with a political mind. His mentor thought with his heart, and that has gotten him into trouble more often than not.)

Then Allura went and made Lance a Spectre, forcibly aligning him with her. On top of the knighting, Lance already held a lot of sway, just not in the way the generals were thinking. He had the people backing him, always would as well. Only those that had heard the generals’ side of his heroic past would think otherwise.

Keith stopped cautiously in front of his window and looked out to the mountains that surrounded the palace. Things just got interesting.

There was a small knock and before he could answer, Shiro was walking in, locking the door behind him. Keith watched as his friend paced around the room, muttering unintelligible things in Altean before dropping down to sit on the edge of Keith’s bed and burying his face in his hands.

“I’m guessing you want to talk about it?” he asked after a beat of silence.

Shiro groaned and dragged his hands down his face—he looked exhausted. “The generals are incorrigible.”

Keith had to agree with them there. “Uh, yes, yes they are. They’re no worse than the Empire’s though.”

“Keith, please, you haven’t seen these men in action. Princess Allura only trusts three of them. Out of the near fifteen there are.”

The exiled prince shrugged. “She doesn’t trust them, me, or you right now. So, that point is moot.”

Shiro frowned. “She doesn’t trust me?”

“Oh gods, Shiro, you really haven’t retained anything from the political lessons Thace gave you, have you?” Keith leaned against his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, it’s obvious why she doesn’t exactly trust you right now.”

The captain was quiet for a moment, not meeting Keith’s gaze. He crossed his arms and waited for Shiro to realize what it was that he had done. It was like a dragon was standing in the room after all.

“Keith, I… I don’t know what I did.”

A gush of air left Keith as he sagged, dropping his chin to his chest in defeat. He picked his head up to pin Shiro with a tired glare. “You brought an exiled Galran prince to her palace and argued that she should let me stay.”

Shiro blinked and remained quiet, confusion wrinkling his brows.

With an exasperated groan, Keith began to list things off on his fingers. “You brought an exiled prince of the opposing country to her palace. You asked her to let me stay. You then spent most of your time with me while she dealt with Lance. You didn’t tell Lance anything about me, so when I showed up and you knew me, he saw that as a lack of loyalty to Altea. She saw this and agreed with him. You forced her into a difficult political position with bringing me here, Shiro.” He lowered his hands, crossing his arms again. “The generals, from what I understand of the rumors, were already pushing to have Lance removed because they have no control over him. Now more than ever, thanks to this morning. They are trying to force her to choose between me and Lance. Clearly, she did not want to lose Lance; now it’s only a matter of time before someone else comes after me, or she forces me to leave.”

“Princess Allura wouldn’t go back on her word, Keith,” Shiro said with a severe tone.

Keith shrugged in response, looking out the window again. “There’s no telling what she will do, Shiro. No one saw her coming back with Lance, knighting him and making him a Spectre, all in the span of five minutes.”

“That was only because Nazoc pushed her too far,” he scoffed, leaning back on his arms.

“Lord Nazoc knows what he wants, as do the rest of the generals.” Keith’s fingers tightened on his shirt. So much of what these generals were doing reminded him of Lotor. “They are angry that Princess Allura cannot be controlled, and something tells me her father had less of a backbone than her when he was in full reign.”

“Princess Allura hasn’t even been coronated yet.”

Keith stared at Shiro. “Really? The way she acts, I would have thought she had been.”

Shiro shook his head. “The Altean throne is in a state of transition. King Alfor is giving Princess Allura more responsibilities to see if she is ready for the throne. Her coronation should be in the next year or so.”

“Regardless of if she’s the queen or not, she’s in a difficult position.”

"Guess so," Shiro sighed. Both of them let the silence overtake the room; there wasn't much else to discuss anyway.

Eventually, Shiro stood and straightened his clothing. "I should head back to duties. Taric should be around soon to escort you anywhere you want to go."

Keith nodded, a small smile crossing his face before he was turning away and looking back down at the desk. “Thanks, Shiro. See you at dinner.”

“Till then, Keith.”

Chapter Text

The Adventure will be Continued.