Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was late. Really late, but Kethek knew that sleep wasn’t going to happen for him tonight, no matter how badly he needed it. Rather than laying in bed in the privacy of his quarters, he was doused in the blue glow of a hologram, eyes burning slightly at its contrast to the darkness of the room around him. He had wandered here without really knowing why until he found himself typing in the coordinates of planet Altea into the program.

The well known blue and green planet with the white mechanical arches that surrounded the globe spun silently on its axis in front of him.

Compared to the hidden outposts and various Galra installments he had been stationed at for the past few decaphoebs, Altea looked absolutely luxurious.

The planet was known for its beauty, as were the Altean’s themselves. Everything about it seemed to be built on an image of perfection. How true that actually was, Kethek wasn't sure. Things had to be a tad bit more frantic with the prince's life in danger, but still, it was one of the few planets Kethek actually considered to be “real” or at least more natural than what he had become accustomed to recently. It wasn’t a ship, it wasn’t built or colonized for the sake of war, and it hadn’t yet been overrun with Galra like nearly all of the known universe has been. Altea was untainted. A home. It seemed safe.

That and the Altean kingdom is the biggest threat to the Galran regime that the universe has. They are the universal superpower for freedom. This meant two things: one being that they had a huge target on them at all times, and two being that on its surface, you wouldn’t last a second if you even remotely resemble or acted like a Galra in any way shape or form. So Altea might not be tainted completely yet, but the Altean's had risked a lot to keep it that way and changed the security structures to be very strict even for the Alteans themselves.

With rules like that, and the pressure of a war on everyone’s shoulders, quality of life couldn’t be that good for even the Altean’s. Nothing and no one was unaffected by this war. The war was all consuming. You were either ruled by the Galra or you were fighting against them, there was no in between.

For these reasons, ever going to Altea hadn’t seemed possible really. It was heavily fortified, and nearly impenetrable for anyone of the Galra Empire. Nearly.

From what he gathered in his briefing, it was clear that the Galra had somehow found a way to evade their defenses and get inside not only the atmosphere of the planet, which was difficult enough in of itself, but they had even managed to find a way inside the castle, which seemed... impossible. But Kethek would not be traveling there by the end of the movement for a mission if the prince hadn’t had run ins with various assassins recently.

The Altean’s had to be extremely desperate if they would be allowing help from the Blade, who were of the same race as their mortal enemies. But it made logical sense. Their enemies are the Galra, and yet Galrans and Alteans knew little about each other’s cultures. Even before the war they kept themselves very separate from each other, not only because of how far apart their home planets were but because, as people... as cultures, they could not be more different. Conflict between them had never been uncommon. In war, this was a weakness. Not knowing their enemy prevented them from being able to understand them. Predict their battle tactics and act accordingly. It meant that they were already a step behind. And especially when it was the princes life at stake, that was something they could not afford to be. Hiring the blade meant getting people on their side that understood the Galra because they themselves were Galra. It meant being able to be a step ahead rather than a step behind. The prince was vital in the war and a major power and symbol of Altea. Losing him would be devastating. It was the reason Kethek had agreed to lead this mission in the first place. If the prince could end the war, he would do whatever it took to see that happen and keep him alive.

So, for the sake of being better prepared, and out of sheer curiosity after receiving his mission, Kethek did some research on the prince. What he knew about the prince already, and what he was reading about were pretty similar. Articles about the advancements he made in the war, and his prowess as an Altean diplomat and soldier. He did have a subtle reputation of being a little promiscuous, based on what he’d heard around the Galaxy, and it made sense. If he wasn’t known for his war efforts, people knew him for his looks.

Kethek had seen only a few images of him himself, but even with his limited knowledge, it wasn’t hard to understand where his reputations had come from or why. With glowing white hair and golden skin, paired with those brilliantly blue eyes… attraction was almost a given.

Other than his promiscuous nature, which was seemingly just something his people viewed as being endearing more than it was criticized, there didn’t seem to be any malice shown from any of his people towards him, and it was probably the reason the Galra wanted him dead even more. It would severely damage Altean moral, perhaps enough that even more victories would ensue for the Galra.

Kethek knew nothing of the man personally, other than the white hair, blue eyes, and bronzed skin seen in the pictures. He knows the stories, and the battles that paint him as something akin to a god, but all he truly knew was that things would be different now. Moving to Altea and becoming his shadow... It would take some major adjusting for the both of them. Kethek would not be welcome. Not really. Tasked with protecting the prince or not, he was still Galra. Nobody, Kethek assumed, would treat him with anything other than disdain. He would have to do his best to earn their trust if he wanted to accomplish anything, but hatred between the Galra and the Altean’s ran deep. It ran through their blood and was the cause for tremendous pain for many people on both sides.

Kethek understood this perfectly. He completely accepted it because, as much as he wished otherwise, he felt that their prejudice wasn’t completely unfounded. The fact that he was a Galra and fighting against the empire wouldn’t matter and he truly understood that, but it didn’t help the fact that he still felt aggravated by it. He knew nobody would trust him, he knew he would be cast aside as a criminal before he had the chance to prove himself and he resented every Galra through history, past and present, who had drilled fear into the hearts of the rest of the universe for it.

With a heavy sigh, Kethek waved his hand into the hologram causing the image of Altea to flicker into black and shroud the room back into darkness.

He wished Shiro were with him now. He wished he could ask him for his advise, have him come with him... Shiro would be better for this job anyways. Even if Shiro was Galra too (which he wasn’t). He was sure that trusting Shiro was something everybody would easily be able to do. In Kethek’s experience, that had always been the case. Himself included. He had been personable, genuine, good-natured, and kind. Kethek... was not. At least not in the same capacity as Shiro had been.

Shiro was gone though, and despite Kethek’s better judgment, he couldn’t help but keep thinking of him. Wishing to no avail that he could ask for his opinions and guidance as he had done for all those years. Shiro, Kethek realized, had been a luxury, and luxury, especially now with this war consuming everything, was particularly more unaffordable.

Sighing again he stood up with a stretch and walked out of the darkened room, squinting tiredly as the doors opened and the light from the hall burned into his eyes.

He walked slowly, feeling incredibly lost for no reason he could really explain because he didn’t even know why, himself.

Maybe it was the thoughts of Shiro, maybe it was the lack of contribution he had had the opportunity to give to the Blade recently, maybe it was the dread of adjusting to a completely different life again. Most likely it was all of these things and for whatever reason, those things in combination resulted in stupid, pathetic, irrational feelings of uselessness that Kethek had no control over.

So now for the second time that night, Kethek was wandering aimlessly. Hands in his pockets, head hung from exhaustion. He really wanted someone to talk to, except that someone had to meet a strict list of qualifications that Kethek knew nobody would be able to meet unless they were Shiro, so he was out of luck.

Kethek absolutely hated this feeling. The feeling of genuinely having no idea what to do with himself. It was in times like these when all Kethek could do to improve his mood was exhaust himself on the training deck. Enough so that he would virtually pass out after and be so consumed by the feeling that he wouldn’t have the capacity to continue thinking about anything other than the ache in his muscles and the pounding of his heart. Now that Kethek was thinking about it, it was probably the only way he would get himself to sleep tonight and regarded it as a brilliant plan. His feet carried him straight to the training room without a second thought.

The training room on this outpost was a far cry from the quality of the training rooms he had had on other posts. It had low ceilings and smelled musty. The technology was glitchy and the room was practically built to injure yourself in with sharply cornered walls and concrete-like floors, but it would do the job. Immediately, he jumped into a rhythm, taking out electronically simulated opponents one- two- three at a time. It was no droid he could have the satisfaction of chopping in half, but the holograms worked fine enough.

It was training that always helped him feel more in control. Sword fighting was his element. When he fought there was no shortage of confidence, no fear, no hesitation. He knew what to do, when to do it, and how. Success here felt inevitable. Which was a wonderful thing to feel when all the odds seemed to be pinned against you.

Kethek swiped his blade forwards and took out two figures at once before turning around and taking out another that had been approaching quickly behind him.

No hologram had gotten within a foot of him. The techniques they were programmed with were at a level that Kethek had no problem evading and predicting. So as the night went on, he set the level higher and higher, working every muscle in his body until he ached so much he could barely stand. So much that the wind was knocked out of him and his heart was pounding so hard that Kethek was surprised it hadn’t broken out of his chest yet.

He worked himself hard, but he wasn’t stupid and knew when his workout started to border on being dangerous. Injuring himself would be a rookie mistake. He was well past that and knew his limits. He knew when he needed to stop himself. It was usually around the time when the burning in his muscles became noticeable, and his breathing less controlled. So he called for the program to pause and walked to the edge of the room, pressing a panel in the wall where water was kept.

Sitting down to take a drink he slumped against the wall and sighed. His eyes drooping and head going foggy as soon as the adrenaline started to wear off, which was pretty much instantly after he had relaxed. The heavy feeling of sleep settled over him and removed him from reality quicker than he could think to stop it.

Slouched against the wall, his head fallen into the crook of his shoulder, his breaths evened out, and he finally got some sleep.

It felt extremely short-lived, however, as the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by Tannis, a blade also at this outpost for the time being. He gave Kethek one of his classic emotionless expressions that he couldn’t read and extended a hand out to him.

He took it, willing the exhaustion from his limbs and stood to his full height, which in comparison to Tannis was almost embarrassing. He barely came up to his shoulder. But then again that was how it was with all of the Blades. He was short. Incredibly so. At least in comparison to them all. On some planets Kethek had been too, 6 ft tall was nothing to sneeze at, but not with the Galra.

Kethek had learned to project himself in a similarly intimidating manner without the height though, so he wasn’t, in his own opinion, at any kind of disadvantage. He knew he could kick Tannis’s ass easily if the situation called for it. Shortness and all. Tannis mainly worked with intel and didn’t get out in the fields much, so maybe it wasn’t totally a fair match but Kethek chose to ignore that particular fact.

“Sorry.” He muttered, dusting himself off. “I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep.”

“Kolivan is looking for you,” Tannis said, barely acknowledging his previous apology, which for Kethek had been obligatory anyways, so he wasn’t perturbed by the lack of consideration of it.

“Kolivan is here?” Kethek asked, admittedly a little taken back.

“Yes,” Tannis replied. “He’s in the communications room. I told him I would retrieve you so he’s expecting your arrival. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Kethek gave a little curt nod and walked past Tannis without another word. Formalities were considered to be wasteful of time with the blade, so saying his thanks for letting him know, or engaging in anything akin to small talk at all would be ill-advised in this situation. Or any situation so long as he was with the Blade. So Kethek pushed forward, looking to find Kolivan in the room that Tannis had directed him to.

It was a path that Kethek had walked down plenty of times, the halls leading to it giving off a rather depressing atmosphere. The lights were dim and the halls were dark, the walls grey, empty, and completely silent. Not even the sound of Kethek’s footsteps traveled very far from his feet. As much as Kethek usually enjoyed silence, this particular silence just felt dead and dreary. Kethek claimed himself to be a very adaptable person but this outpost was a place that Kethek simply could not stand, and as terrifying as the prospect of going to live on Altea was, he was glad for it. Honestly, anything that would get him out of this suffocating hell hole he was thankful for.

“Kolivan,” Kethek said by means of greeting him as he entered.

“Kethek, where have you been.” He asked.

“Training,” Kethek replied. “I fell asleep on the deck, I wasn’t aware you were here.”

“I’ve come to relay more information to you about your upcoming mission and emphasize its importance.”

“I believe I am fully aware of-“

“No Kethek. You need to understand. If the prince dies-“

“The prince won’t die, Kolivan,” Kethek said firmly. “I won’t let it happen. I’ve done my research, as was suggested of me. I know how important he is, and I’m ready.”

“It is your firm belief of that which makes it troublesome, Kethek. We do not have the luxury to be so convicted. You have to be fully aware that the prince could very well die, with or without your defense. You must be ready for any outcome. And to be ready for any outcome means that you also need to expect every current possibility. It will be your duty to ensure the prince's safety, but know that you need to plan for everything.”

Kethek sighed, but he knew Kolivan was right and bit his tongue. A rebuttal would be fruitless and they both knew it.

“Also, Kethek. We have received intel that this plan to have the Blade of Marmora assistance was made without the queen's initial permission. It leads us to believe that she may be even more difficult and unwelcoming than we had first anticipated. I tell you this so you can expect brutal scrutiny. It will not be easy.”

“It’s understood Kolivan,” Kethek said feeling even more uneasy at the prospect of living on a planet where every member of its species was basically born with a hatred of anything and everyone Galra. Perhaps he would be able to prove himself a worthy ally, but it seemed that nothing in Kethek’s life was ever that easy.

“Now,” Kolivan instructed. “Altea’s security system only permits entrance into the planet’s atmosphere to Altean ships. It is also at the request of the Altean high court that you are to be delivered to the planet by the Altean’s and not by your own means. There are many reasons for this. A Galra ship entering the atmosphere, or any ship that isn’t Altean-grade would be alarming to the Altean's, and also, there is simply no way for you to enter alone with the new updates to the atmospheric defenses that they’ve upgraded. It’s coded to their ships and their ships alone, and they said they will not make exceptions to that even for a few vargas. So they have sent a pilot and he will be here in 14 Vargas. You will arrive on Altea around the planets mid-day.” Kethek must have had enough of a look of confusion and surprise on his face that Kolivan could read it, because he elaborated. “The Altean court has moved up your arrival date as things have only grown worse. Be ready to leave tonight.”

Kethek internally sighed a breath of relief. Honestly, leaving this outpost ahead of schedule was something to celebrate. The sooner he left the better. But it did make him a bit more anxious too. He would be meeting the Altean Royals. He would be living in the castle. He had lost days worth of mental preparation he had initially been planning to have. It all was happening very fast, but truly, if Kethek was honest with himself, he didn’t mind. Things for him had been slow for far too long.

So he gave a curt nod and left to go gather up his belongings.

It didn't take long considering that Kethek didn't have too much to bring with him. His entire life fit into one bag. Moving around as much as he did, and never being able to call any one place home or be able to return anywhere for long enough of a time to consider it home, he had adopted a lifestyle that allowed him to live on only the necessities, and only bring with him things he could not live without. Within the hour he was ready and standing by, waiting for the Altean ship that would be sent to take him away from this dreadful outpost to Altea.

The ship, when it arrived, looked incredibly sleek and advanced, despite it only being a transport pod. Its white shiny surfaces contrasted dramatically with the dark Galran walls of the hanger it was docking in.

Sure it seemed a bit over the top of them to send their own ship and their own pilot, but Kethek didn't mind it. He would be respectful to Altea’s precautions even if they were latent with mistrust to him specifically being Galra and not just general precautions. It may be annoying, but he would accept it for the time being if it was necessary for an alliance between Altea and the Blade.

The Altean pilot that stepped out of the ship looked, to Kethek's mild amusement, mortified by everything around him. So much so that Kethek almost laughed. Not only was he tiny in comparison to the Blades, (even tinier than himself) but he looked as though he would scream and run at a gust of the wind.

Kethek repressed a grin and stepped forward to meet him.

“I’m Kethek,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”

Thanking him was a gamble for Kethek. He assumed that Alteans might be the type who expected pleasantries rather than the type who look down upon them like the Galra, but it seemed to be well received by the way the Altean’s shaking died down a bit.

“Yes, sure, right, of course,” He stammered, not meeting his eyes. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Yes.” Kethek replied. “Let's be on our way”

The Altean nodded and turned to climb back into the ship.

Kethek watched him, admittedly a little curious. He had never been so close to an Altean in person. It distracted him enough that he forgot what he was doing for a moment and just stood outside of the ship, lost in his observations. It wasn't until the Altean had poked his head back out confusedly to see what the hold up was that Kethek snapped out of it.

Settling himself into the cabin, Kethek waited as the engines started up, and soon enough, they were flying away, Kethek watching the outpost disappear into a speck outside his window.

After going into hyperjump, it was maybe close to a quintant worth of travel before Kethek got to see his first glimpses of their destination.

And gosh, Kethek hadn't expected it, but Altea was even more breathtaking in person. Not that he was planning on expressing that outwardly, especially with the shaking Altean pilot who kept giving Kethek cautious, fearful glances as though he thought Kethek was going to jump up and murder him at any second.

Kethek was trying to remain as neutral as possible as to avoid any further judgment in addition to the judgment he was currently, and would continue to be doused in for who knows how long. But even with this effort, he couldn’t help the flutter in his chest upon seeing the glowing planet. No less so than when they landed and he got his first looks at the planet from its surface.

Emerald green grass sat below spindly trees that towered in arches over a grand walkway to the entrance of the castle where he could see an Altean with bright red hair waiting for them.

“Follow me please. The queen and prince are waiting for you inside.” The small Altean pilot said, continuing to avert his eyes from Kethek's. Kethek looked down at him and nodded. “Lead the way.” He replied.

Nervously, the Altean scuttled ahead of him and down the walkway.

The red-haired man stood at the top of the steps flanked by what had to be an entire half of the Altean guard. Whether or not they were posted in such a way outside of the castle because of Kethek’s arrival, or because of the increase in security due to the princes situation, Kethek didn’t know, deciding to drop the thought and focus on not scaring the red-headed man off with one of his contemplative glares. On one too many occasions, when dealing with people of different cultures, Kethek had discovered that his resting face had the tendency to unnerve people. Seeing as it was something he did unconsciously, it required him to make an effort to relax his expression and appear in a way he could only hope was neutral and easy to digest. Often times the way he accomplished that was by trying to look bored. Bored but serious. A look that demonstrated both strength and approachability. Something that said; “yes, I could kill you, but you can trust that I won’t.”

“Ah, hello, Kethek, isn’t it?” The red-headed man said in a thick Altean accent, descending from the steps to come and meet him, offering his arm in an Altean gesture of greeting.

Kethek took it and nodded.

“Yes Kethek, welcome to Altea. My name is Coran. I am the royal advisor. If you would please come with me, we certainly don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Kethek agreed, following Coran up the steps of the castle, casting side glances to the guards who each met his eyes with untrusting, suspicious glares. Clearly, Coran's friendly nature was just a part of his personality, and would not be seen in the other Altean’s.

As they drew closer to the castle, it only got more impressive. It was massive, towering over them with elegance and authority, attesting to everything Altea has stood for in the universe. A powerful force of peace committed to taking down the empire. And he, a Galra soldier was now walking right through the front door. Kethek wasn’t sure if that was irony or poetry.

Coran spoke of simple things while they walked like asking him if the flight in had been comfortable and small little details of the Altean castle. Tidbits of facts to fill the silence and make the situation less tense. Kethek really, really appreciated his effort.

Coran led him up one of three grand staircases that branch off in different directions from the circular foyer looking area that the front doors of the castle entered to. The staircase lead them to a hallway that overlooked other rooms below them, railings flanking them on each side to prevent a fall. It was all incredibly breathtaking and Kethek couldn’t help but take it all in with awe.

They turned to enter what Coran had said was the throne room and immediately, Kethek recognized the two royals. Unexpectedly seeing them so suddenly made his heart skip a beat.

They both seemed to glow in the contrast of the room against their figures. The prince was much taller than he had imagined. Standing next to his sister, he was quite a bit taller than her, the queen coming up to just under his chin.

As Coran led him closer, their backs still turned to the two of them as they approached, they became clearer. The prince was saying something softly to the queen, who had her arms crossed over her chest. Surrounding them, and at every entrance around the perimeter of the room were even more guards standing at attention.

Everything looked so clean… so royal, so important. It made the two royals look even more intimidating than they already were, and Kethek had only yet seen their backs.

But seeing them in the flesh. Actually being permitted to be within a couple yards of them… it made Kethek remember who they were, and all that they stood for. It reminded him of why he was fighting this fight, and the unwavering respect he held for the both of them despite knowing next to nothing about them personally. Kethek wasn’t getting this reaction from seeing them in person for nothing, because they weren’t a big deal for nothing. They were legends. Powerful and commanding people that naturally attracted respect.

And if his heart wasn’t already hammering hard enough to begin with for these reasons, when the prince suddenly turned around to look at them, presumably having heard footsteps, and his surprisingly vibrant blue eyes flashed over Kethek, it may as well have fallen out of his chest.

He moved to put a hand on the queen's arm, and she too turned around to look in the direction that the prince was, but unlike the prince, her face immediately went sour.

Coran led Kethek up to them so that they were finally face to face and stepped to the side.

The prince stood tall and poised, surpassing Kethek by a couple inches in height, his eyes looking down at him with a mixture of concern, disdain, and curiosity. He didn't seem nearly as hostile as his sister, who on the other hand may as well have been stabbing daggers into him with the deadly look she held in her eyes. But Kethek wasn't focusing on her. He was studying the prince.

It was honestly a bit surreal seeing him, the blue paladin, in the flesh, only knowing him from stories and the destruction he had been able to impart on the Galran regime. It had made him out to be this indestructible being, someone akin to a fairytale character rather than somebody who was real. But here he was, a prince... a person.

He was very much real, and actually, in comparison to the way the stories painted him out to be, he seemed to have an air of delicacy to him that didn’t translate into the image of the fierce warrior and tactician. But it wasn’t as apparent under the very apparent impressions of authority he emitted and his obvious royal status.

His features were adorned in precious materials, the most significant of which being the iconic circlet crown of the Altean kingdom resting delicately across his dark tan forehead, partially hidden under his almost glowing white hair that recognizably pegged him as a member of the royal family.

His long, thin, but strong structure, broad shoulders, and the nearly luminescent blue and white silky cloth that dressed him so elegantly complemented the captivating blue of his eyes and the blue Altean markings beneath them. It was all of this, as well as the intimidating poise with which he held himself, that made Kethek feel small and unworthy of his presence.

“My queen,” Coran spoke up, turning to look at her. “My prince,” he said adjusting his gaze to the princes. Before giving them both a bow. And shit. If the royal advisor was bowing to them, this meant that Kethek had better get on his knees.

Kneeling down with one knee on the cold tiles of the castle floor, Kethek made a fist with his right hand and crossed his arm over his chest, tucking the other behind his back as he stooped into a deep bow, lowering his head in respect.

“Your Majesties.” He said. “It is an honor and a privilege to be in your presence.”

Staying kneeled as the two stood before him, he waited for permission to stand back up, which came eventually from the Queen.

“Please, stand.” She instructed.

Kethek did and continued. “My name is Kethek, I am a member of the Blade of Marmora. I come in the hopes of assuring you that I am completely ready for this mission, and will not fail.”

“Your time here has not yet been solidified as permanent.” The Queen said, dismissing his words completely and Kethek tried to suppress the look of confusion he felt etching away at his attempted mask of emotionlessness.

“As my wish is to remain as honest as possible with you, I will let you know that my tolerance for this arrangement is very limited. I only agreed to meet with you under conditions of sheer desperation.” The queen continued.

A confusing silence ensued as the gathered party all looked questioningly at the Queen.

“My Queen, if I may,” Coran spoke up. ”I was under the impression that you were in complete agreement to this arrangement. Was I mistaken?”

“No, you were not Coran, I’ve just simply changed my mind. My trust is running thin.”

“Understood your highness, but you must understand,” Coran continued, “that this truly is the best option I could have procured. The Blade of Marmora offered their help, and this security is unlike any we would have received from our own. Kethek is more than qualified to assist us.”

“We both agreed that Prince Lance can not go unguarded any further, and we need help, regardless,” he said giving a pointed look at Lance, “of how skilled he is at defending himself. We can not risk anything anymore. He needs someone to watch his back.”

The Prince’s face remained unchanged, looking from Coran to suddenly observe Kethek with so much scrutiny that his gaze was hard to return. But he remained firm in his expression and stance.

“This is true.” The Queen responded, “and it is the only reason why I’m still letting this happen right now. But a part of the rebellion or not, he and the Blade are still Galra.” The Queen said. “You can't change your blood, Coran. His blood is that of the race that killed father and mother, and I'm sorry if that makes me biased, but I might have no choice other than to refuse to let anybody from that murdering, tyrannic race be responsible for my brother's life.”

And there it was… Kethek mentally sighed. The cold, cruel words he had been expecting from the Altean’s all along.

Surprisingly enough though, It was then that the prince's expression shifted for the first time in what for Kethek had been far, far too long. His sister's words had struck a chord within him. Kethek could see it in his eyes.

“Allura.” He said, turning to his sister. “I'm disappointed in you. It is your kind of thinking that makes wars last a lifetime and never find resolve. He did not kill mother and father. He said gesturing a bronze arm out to Kethek. Zarkon did. Zarkon and all those who are loyal to him. Condemning an entire race because of one person is ignorant and foolish.”

A fire seemed to light in Allura’s eyes, erupting them both into an argument. The queen defending her reasoning and the prince shooting her down, Coran trying to mediate and shut the bickering siblings up.

“You do not speak to me of foolishness, Lance, until you can be less foolish yourself. Strutting around the castle without a care, almost like you’re inviting your death! You’re making it easy for them! I swear, it’s as though you don’t even realize how much danger you are in!” She said angrily. “And that this man,” she said whipping her arm angrily out to point at Kethek, “is a part of a race of people that want you dead!”

“Oh don’t I? I don’t understand the severity of all this? I don’t understand the origin of your concern? Really?”

He moved suddenly, delicately removing the long floor length robe he had been wearing. Stretching his shoulders back and letting it slide slowly down his long tan Arms. Coran reached to collect it as it pooled at his wrists.

Freeing himself of it completely, he straightened back up, revealing a sleeveless top that hugged his every angle tightly in beautiful silky blue fabric, the neckline plunging low on his chest, as well as fitted pants and a belt that held an assortment of guns and other weaponry.

After gauging the others reactions, Kethek was made aware that he was not the only one to be surprised. Everyone was looking wide-eyed at the collection of deadly weaponry that hung from Lance’s hips. The most prominent among them was the iconic blue paladin bayard.

“Oh come on Allura don't look at me as though this surprises you.” He said. “With all this talk of possibly being killed do you honestly think I'd go anywhere without the means to defend myself?! Who do you take me for? An idiot?”

“You seemed very unconcerned actually,” Coran spoke up.

“Appearing to be unconcerned and in control is how someone whose life is being threatened survives Coran,” The Prince spoke. “If I have the potential to be killed it would be rather stupid of me not to be cautious, but that doesn't mean I have to change my entire way of life! What’s the point of living if I can’t live in the way that I want! I’m not going to let this control my life.”

“In essence,” he continued. “To reframe for the thousandth time since this whole situation was proposed, I can handle myself. If you want my opinion on his presence in this castle, it’s this: If he needs to shadow me for your own peace of mind, then fine. So be it, but I am perfectly capable of my own defense. Take my being alive right now as evidence if you need to.”

Kethek, with those words, finally felt like he understood the situation fully. Coran wanted Lance to be safe and was willing to trust the Blade. The queen was completely repulsed by any idea of working with anyone of Galran descent and the prince, who didn't care whether or not he was Galra, simply did not want somebody responsible for him, determined that he could take care of himself.

Kethek who had been standing silently watching everything unfold was completely unsure of what he should be doing. Hearing Lance defend him was unexpected, but he didn't object. He also though was not satisfied to be the prince’s distant shadow.

“Your Highnesses.” Kethek spoke up, silencing the bickering immediately as they all turned to look at him. “May I make a query?” He said as politely as possible.

“Yes, please,” Coran said a little desperately. “It is to you specifically your highness.” He said nodding to the prince who met his gaze with a cold calculating stare, waiting for him to continue.

“I noticed that all your weapons appear to be long range with the exception of one blade you have in your holster.”

“Yes, what of it,” he asked with another scrutinizing look.

“In my briefing, I was informed that you are specifically adapt in long-range combat. I wasn't aware that you had any skill in hand to hand.”

“Not a lot.” The prince replied dismissively. “I would only resort to it in emergencies. I'm pretty sure I can stick a knife into something without having to be trained in hand to hand if the situation called for it.”

Kethek nodded, his face stony and unamused. “Ok,” he said. “If this is your claim then you should have no trouble landing an attack on me.”

“What?” The prince asked, taken by surprise.

“I’m suggesting you try and stab me,” Kethek repeated.

The prince stared at Kethek trying to read into his intentions, looking outraged, but the guard simply stared him down with a dark and serious scowl.

“Say I got into the castle and was trailing you very closely down the hall, and suddenly you turn around to see that I'm preparing to go for the kill. What would you do? No guns or rifles would be efficient with such close proximity. How would you save yourself?”

Both the Queen and Coran looked to the Lance expectantly, the prince feeling anxiety bubble into his stomach, though to everyone else, he was calm and confident.

“This is ridiculous, I'm not going to stab you,” the he eventually said.

“That's the point I'm trying to make,” Kethek responded coolly. “You will not be able to hurt me at all, but I encourage you to try, simply so I can gauge things like your stance and technique and determine your actual level of skill for myself.”

The prince huffed frustratedly, but slowly and hesitantly drew the blade from its sheath.

Kethek stood watching, calm, and vulnerable. His hands behind his back.

The prince walked towards him, holding the blade awkwardly. His hand hesitating.

“It isn't hard to jab a knife into something,” Kethek said, reiterating the prince's own words. “Just go for it. My armor should prevent any serious damage.”

This seemed to reassure the prince, if only enough to comply with Kethek’s request, his grip on the blade tightening.

Allura and Coran watched skeptically, the princess wringing her hands nervously.

Then suddenly he went for the stab, and in a series of quick movements that were almost to fast to comprehend as they happened, Lance was pinned down, his arms restrained, with his own weapon being held to his neck, as Kethek kept him still.

The Queen jumped, her voice rushing from her mouth screaming, “guards! He’s going to-!” But before she could even finish the guards rushed at Kethek, grabbing his shoulders and trying futilely to pull him away from the prince, but he was too quick and shrugged out of their grasp, the prince still in his hold.

Then suddenly the prince was released. Coughing and hunching forward as Kethek leaned back on his heels and brushed himself off, giving an annoyed look to the guards who had attempted to apprehend him, and receiving fretful looks in return.

A silence fell between them all as Lance tried to catch his breath.

“I regret to tell you that you are not ‘completely’ able to fend for yourself, your highness,” Kethek said ignoring Alluras quick attempt to make allegations and not trust him.

“The Galra are going to attack you where they know you can get hurt. A long-range attack would be a waste of time. Just as I knew your weakness, they will too. They'll take it and exploit it and you will die at their hands, all your guns still at your hips, with a stab-wound to your chest.”

“I am one of the most highly adept hand to hand combatants the Blade of Marmora has, so trust me when I say that you are unprepared for every attack they could offer you and most certainly will not be able to defend yourself alone. I know how the Galra think. I know what they will try, and I know how to stop them. I can help you learn to use your prowess in long-range fighting and shooting to your every advantage, and make sure you have no weaknesses they can take advantage of.”

“Your royal advisor was wise to accept our assistance. You would do well to take his advice and let us help you. My sole mission is to keep you alive. As a paladin, you are the closest we've come in a very long time to bringing the Galra empire to justice. It would be foolish of all of you to let your biases and fears jeopardize the fate of the universe.”

“Zarkon will not be defeated if we are not able to work with one another. As you have seen, if I had any malicious intent, I could have killed every one of you by now. But you are not my target. You are my job to protect. It would be in your best interest to let me. It is in the code of the Blade of Marmora that the mission comes above all else. I am highly trained and guarantee that under my advisement and watch, no harm will come to the prince.”

The three Alteans blinked at Kethek in shock, a silence falling between them.

Kethek looked directly at the prince, finding twinges of fury in the depths of his blue eyes that he coolly hid under a look of simple indifference. He was angry, and Kethek suspected that the prior, small level of cooperation he had displayed, had completely decimated. Kethek suppressed the urge to sigh. In guaranteeing his position as the prince's guard, he had lost the bit of tolerance that had been offered by him. He would have to work for it.

Coran cleared his throat, thankfully disrupting the tense quiet, and clapped his hands together. “I assume it's settled then?” He said looking to the queen who wore a scowl. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she shot a glare at Kethek.

“You will supervise the prince daily. You are required to be in his presence at all times as his personal guard. Anywhere he goes you will go with him. The guards of Altea are not entirely yours to command but the prince is your personal responsibility. You must schedule training with him and ensure that he is adequately prepared to defend himself as you see fit. You will report to me every day and update me on his progress.” She paused. Opening and closing her mouth before continuing. “Betray our trust in any way and there will be grave consequences.”

Kethek put his forearm across his chest to convey his sincerity, dipping into a bow. “It is understood.” He replied.

“Good.” She spat back. “Coran please take Kethek to his assigned quarters and get him settled. Meet back with me in one Varga for the briefing.”

Coran nodded. “Yes, my queen.” He said before he turned to Kethek and gestured for him to follow.

Kethek obeyed and turned away from the two royals, still feeling eerily like he could still feel the princes cold, piercing stare on the back of his head as he exited. A few moments more of following after Coran though, and the nerves in his gut started to settle bit by bit until it began turning into doubt. He had done what he had set out to do, but it felt a lot more like a failure than Kethek had expected it to.

He walked a few paces behind Coran as he lead him through the magnificent and breathtaking castle. The high ceilings made Kethek feel small yet again, and the signature teal lighting generated from the Altean crystals felt cold. But not even Kethek could deny the castles grandeur.

He drew a lot of connections from the castle to the prince. The same ornamental, flamboyant, intimidating qualities seeming to be present, at least subtly, in all the people he had met so far. But him most especially.

Kethek wasn’t used to it at all. The open, wide architecture vastly different from the claustrophobic conditions he had lived in for as long as he could remember.

Everything was clean, elegant, and created with an obvious abundance of skill and artistry. It was far different from what he was used to. Cramped spaces, sweltering heat, open skies.... it was very, very different.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Coran stopped in front of a set of doors. They opened as he walked up to them, and Kethek followed him inside.

“These are your quarters.” Coran said with a wave of his hand that addressed the entire room. “Your belongings have already been put away.”

Kethek looked around the room. It was quaint and a bit small, which Kethek didn’t mind at all. It was something he was used to. The small twin bed built into the wall on the left, a storage compartment further down the same wall, everything grey and empty.

Kethek nodded, and Coran took that as permission to proceed with the tour.

The castle, Kethek realized, was huge. He was starting to get the feeling that there was literally a room for everything on this ship. But he got excited when he was lead to one room in particular.

“This is the training deck.” Coran informed. “Here you can train in virtually any kind of combat and choose the different difficulty levels at which you fight. The fights are created by the castle computer and generated here. Speak your instructions aloud and the computer will send opponents to challenge you. This is where we hope you will be spending a lot of time with the prince. Helping him with his defensive skills and hand to hand combat.”

Kethek nodded again, looking out at the vast expanse of the room. So much empty space to run. It was huge, with an observation deck high above the ground level. He had a feeling he would be spending a lot of time here, with or without the prince.

Coran continued on to show him the kitchens, the many delegation rooms, the pool (which Kethek did not understand the logistics of in the slightest.) the control room, main deck, the pod bay, the healing pods and medical bay, and finally, the observation deck. A room that was built with the ability to observe the stars, instead looked out over Altea, a domed ceiling stretching up towards a lavender sky, and out towards the cities and villages that surrounded the castle on the horizon. It was really a beautiful planet. Unlike any he had been on.

Unbeknownst to Kethek, Coran was watching him from a distance as the guards brain became too entranced by the view to realize.

Coran was worried. There was no other way to put it. He wasn’t sure what to think of Kethek yet, and wasn’t even sure if he should up until he saw the hardness in Kethek’s features soften as he looked out over the planet. Soften in a way that wasn’t seen in anyone who wanted to do this planet or it’s people harm. It was a subtle gesture, and perhaps one he was over analyzing, but Coran was happy to grasp at this particular straw, especially if it gave him a shard of much needed hope.

“Kethek…” he said, hesitating. Kethek turned to look at him, his face seemingly emotionless- something that Coran was beginning to understand as his default, thus, a very normal expression for him, and reminded himself not to overthink it.

“You should know.... The queen and the prince... I think of them as my own... we share no blood and yet I feel for them like a father. I will do anything to protect them. You understand that right?”

“Of course. I assumed as much when I heard that an Altean noble had agreed to have the help from the Galra.” Kethek responded. His arms crossed loosely over his chest in a lazy, casual sort of stance.

Coran simply cast his gaze out the observation window and let silence fall between them. Kethek watched him closely. Unlike himself, Coran seemed to be very expressive. Kethek could see the conflict plain on his face.

“The queen is....” Coran spoke up again, “Strong willed. She has been through more pain than you know and has taught herself to be strong. It can be very difficult to earn her trust. You specifically don’t fair well because of your Galran identity. But I suppose... what I’m asking... is that you are patient with her. If you are deserving of her faith, she may give it to you, even if it might take time.”

“She cares so deeply for Lance that this threat to his life has taken ahold of her own. She just wants to keep the prince out of harm's way.”

“Then we share the same goal.” Kethek said calmly. “The prince can not die. We would be set back too far in this war. He is vital to the victory over Zarkon.”

Coran just looked at his feet.

“What about you?” Kethek asked. “What are your feelings?”

“Regarding the Blade of Marmora?” Coran asked.

Kethek nodded and Coran let out a sigh.

“I’m desperate.” He said simply, shrugging a bit. “Enough so, that I’m willing to look past my own prejudice if that’s what’s going to keep Lance safe.”

“So you have similar views of the Galra with the queen then.” Kethek responded.

Coran paused, biting the inside of his lip, as though he was gathering what exactly he would say.

“Kethek, the Galra killed my family. Coran said softly. They murdered my dearest friends, and took everything from the two people left who I care most deeply for. Recently, all that the Galra have proven to me is that they have no goodness or mercy left to be spared. They hurt and destroy whatever they want with no inhibition. So it is very hard to look at them and not feel defensive or angry or afraid.”

“Where the queen and I differ however, is that I am willing to be proven wrong. I welcome it in fact. I am not so set in my understanding of the Galran race to believe that there is no hope for things to change.”

“The queen is young. She knows only the brutality and cruelness of the Galra. But I remember vividly when king Alfor and Zarkon were friends, and there was peace between our two peoples. Then Zarkon changed and all the Galrans remained so loyal to him that cruelty and pain became their new normal.

“Now they threaten the prince's life and I simply will not stand to lose another person so important in my life. I’m willing to set aside everything to ensure his safety, including my opinions of you. What I’m asking of you, Kethek, is to prove me wrong. And you can do that by protecting Lance.”

Kethek stared at Coran, admittedly a bit taken back. Everything he said made sense, and his reasonings were valid. He was reasonable and wanted peace more than he wanted anything else.

Kethek decided then that he trusted Coran, and would do everything he could to earn his trust too.

“I will.” Kethek decided to say. And nothing more. Not I will try, not I’ll do everything I can. Kethek would. No matter what.

——

The room where he was told to meet the princess was pretty much exactly what he had expected it to be, a long table, high ceilings, all unnecessarily ornate. The same grey industrial looking walls lined with strips of teal light going around the perimeter.

The queen and the prince sat side by side, flanked with a few other Alteans, already there waiting. The two royals, when in context with their people did In fact, now more than before, look exceptionally elegant and breathtaking. Their matching white hair, slender pointed faces, and the sheer intimidation they both exuded making everybody else in the room look incredibly ordinary and plain.

What Kethek refused to admit was the effects of that intimidation. He scowled and straightened up before walking to his seat across from the queen while Coran took his place to the queens left.

He was particularly interested in observing the prince, who looked bored, despite the attention with which he sat.

The queen on the other hand looked extremely unhappy, her eyes cold and unwelcoming and her face flat and expressionless. Kethek went to stand behind his chair waiting for the queens cue.

“Sit.” She said shortly. And he did.

Kethek looked around at the other Alteans on the left side of the table who were all busy with their tasks on their individual tablets that were most likely going to be used for translation, notes, and scribing, all of them intentionally avoiding the gaze of the Galran sitting across from them.

An Altean who stood by the doors went around and closed all entrances.

“The meeting is now in session.” He said.

The queen cleared her throat. “You have been asked to join this meeting to discuss the terms of the Altean royal court’s alliance with the Blade of Marmora, for the purpose of protecting the sovereign prince of Altea.”

The prince smirked and winked to nobody in particular.

“These rules and guidelines must be followed exactly or the arrangement will be called off and you will be forbidden to walk these grounds again. I will discuss the conditions of your guardianship now. It will be written up formally for your reference, and perfect compliance is expected. Anything less is unacceptable. Is this understood.” The queen asked, though it wasn’t truly much of a question at all.

“Yes.” Kethek replied.

“Yes what?” The queen asked.

“I am to comply with your guidelines in the way that you expect, and nothing less.”

“Good.” She spat. “Let’s begin.”

The queen went through the basic expectations first. Time schedule, hours of work, requirement of regular training and constant supervision any time the prince was anywhere but his room, places the prince was no longer permitted to go even with a guard, places Kethek was not permitted to go and so on. It was all pretty much what Kethek had anticipated would be discussed, and it was actually going pretty smoothly until there was a knock at the door.

A tall Altean man with pale yellow Altean markings stepped timidly into the room. “Your royal majesty's, I apologize for the interruption, but prince Lance’s presence, uh, in the lion bay is necessary. The damage from his last battle has brought up a concerning error in, uh, the system and I request his assistance. It is imperative that it be taken care of immediately.”

All heads turned to Lance, who quickly suppressed what Kethek saw was a wide grin. Confusingly enough, he cleared his throat and stood up quickly. “My apologies, but it seems that I am needed elsewhere. Allura, I trust the meeting can proceed without me, yes?”

“I suppose…” she said. “Thank you for alerting us Hunk.”

And just like that, Lance was gone, striding past Kethek and the rest of the gathered party eagerly. If it was even possible, Allura seemed even colder now that they were alone. She looked at Kethek as though he was the most foul thing she had ever laid eyes on, nose wrinkling slightly, her eyes narrow and her mouth turned down in a look of complete distaste.

“Let’s continue.” She said.

Though he wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, he was incredibly bored for the entirety of the meeting. The queen was unrelenting in her hatred of him, and every other Altean in the room remained deathly silent, never looking his way, making him feel as though he was completely invisible. Truthfully it did nothing more than annoy him. He wasn’t offended or hurt by his treatment as it was an implicit bias and had nothing to do with him specifically. It was the Altean’s he pitied for letting such a thing influence their opinions of him. They were the ones making things more difficult than they needed to be. So he ignored it, and tried to pay attention and not get distracted.

Luckily for him, the subject of conversation suddenly became more interesting after a long m winded and extensive rambling of rules from the queen.

“Kethek, my brother means more to me than anything.” Allura began, watching her fingers as they fiddled. “Speaking off record I will warn you that he is a difficult person to get to know and even harder to cooperate with. He does what he wants and he doesn't let anybody stop him. It is your job to not let him continue to be this way, no matter how difficult he will undoubtedly make that task for you.”

“He's flirtatious, promiscuous, charming, confident, strong willed, and incredibly stubborn. Expect those things to be used to your every disadvantage. He is very smart. Earning his true respect and trust will not be easy. He doesn't want to be looked after, but no matter what he says or does to inflict any leniency on your behalf, you must do your job, no matter the cost. Fail to do this and I will not hesitate to break our alliance and forbid you and all the rest of the Blade from this system immediately and permanently.”

“I can handle it, your majesty.” Kethek replied confidently.

“So you keep saying.” The queen replied with a glare.

“That is all for now. Other smaller rules and expectations will be written out formally for you to look over later. Meeting adjourned.”

And just like that, at her words, the entire room stood up and shuffled out. Leaving Kethek to scramble to follow suit.

He gave Coran a friendly nod on his way out the door that he was holding open for him and entered the hall, only to realize then that he had no idea where he was going. With a final sigh, he began to tour the castle on his own.

He would be here a while so he may as well know his way around.

He started with the goal of walking the opposite direction from where he knew his quarters to be located with the intention of trying to navigate back after he was thoroughly turned around.

So he started walking, intentionally not making eye contact with anyone that passed him as he went, looking up at the extravagant architecture for the millionth time since he had arrived in the castle. This time though he tried memorizing key details of certain arias if the castle with the hopes that it would help him not get lost in the future.

He kept walking, acting like he knew what it was that he was doing and tried to not attract attention by keeping as low of a profile as possible. Which was hard considering he was purple and darkly dressed.

He felt much like the Altean ship in the Galra hanger, only the situation was now reversed. He stuck out against the bright interior walls of the castle and colorful Alteans. He felt like the one smudge of dirt on a polished marble floor. He felt out of place, and rightfully so. He didn’t belong here, and it felt like everything, from the people, to the inanimate objects, had a sole goal of reminding him of that.

His little voyage through the castle only halted once, and for a small moment when he heard the echoes of laughter drifting down the hall. A beautiful, twinkling laugh that made his knees feel a bit weak as he heard it.

Kethek knew he should keep walking. Ignore the bright sound and continue on his way, but curiosity admittedly got the better of him, and without even thinking it over twice, he turned and headed towards where the noise had come from.

He assumed, from the much higher, slightly domed ceilings, that he was probably in some sort of hangar. The halls stretched far, and Kethek followed them deeper into this new section of the castle, passing many guards who lined the walls. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed them at first.

They were all glaring at him, which honestly was no surprise. What did surprise him though was the increase in security. Guards literally littered the halls. They were posted on every corner. It begged the question: what was so important down here that it was so heavily guarded?

He kept walking until he heard the laugh again. It was much, much closer now and made something in his chest flutter.

He came up to a doorway and went through it. Entering he immediately noticed how much wider and expansive the room was with huge doors for larger ships to go out of the castle when in space and an airlock control panel standing towards the edge of the wall.

He moved slowly through it, admiring the expansive grandeur that made him feel incredibly small. He came eventually to pass through another entryway, thinking that nothing could floor him like he already had been by the entirety of the castle, but was proven wrong in an instant.

Entering the room only for a moment he literally gasped- almost shouted at the sight in front of him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing had prepared him to suddenly be in the presence of the Blue lion. Nothing.

It was massive. So incredibly massive that it knocked the air right out of Kethek’s lungs. Elegantly designed and so insanely powerful in its appearance alone. Kethek hadn’t even thought about the fact that he might get to see the Blue lion in person. Right up close and not from far away in a battleship. So close that he could run out and touch it if he really wanted to.

Kethek was virtually shaking at the sight of it. His jaw hung open and his eyes were wide. It was a rare expression for him. One that he rarely let grace his features.

He would have gone in further to admire it more closely but his daze faded just enough that he heard the sound of voices echo much closer than he was comfortable with. Before he could tuck behind the entrance he had come through he saw a quick glimpse of them at the base of one of the lions’ paws. A tall, very large Altean with dark skin and yellow markings- the same Altean, Kethek realized, that had come to retrieve the prince at their meeting earlier. Next to him, was none other than the prince, in all his glowing white haired, and tanned skin glory. Only this time, he wasn’t acting anything like he had been when they had met.

Kethek learned quickly that that beautiful laugh he had been hearing belonged to the prince. He should have guessed...

“No, seriously! You actually did it! I was so proud and impressed at the same time!! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” The prince said through a bright grin, acting more jovial and care free than Kethek had ever seen him.

“You asked me too!” The Altean scowled with a pout. “And part of me was like nah, no way, I’m not gonna do that, because your my best friend and best friends don’t have to put up with each other’s shit, but then the loyal Altean citizen part of me who knows you’re the quiznacking prince and you probably warned Allura about my possibly coming in to the meeting in advance or something was like, if I don’t go I could actually be in some deep doodoo because Lance is a quiznack and probably pulled some strings somehow to make it so that it would be awkward if I didn’t come in and randomly interrupt a quiznacking meeting that had literally every important person in attendance. So yes Lance, I went! Because your a dick!”

The Altean jabbed the prince playfully, looking panicked still while the prince continued to giggle hysterically. “But you did so good though! I got out of the meeting!! Ancestors, I would have died of boredom had you not saved me! They totally fell for it Hunk!”

“I’m lucky that I’m likeable.” The Altean, apparently named Hunk said back. “And you’re lucky that you’re likeable or I would be a lot less of a pushover with you.”

“Oh so it’s not because I’m royalty?” The prince teased.

“You’re a shithead Lance.” Hunk replied, but this time with a little smile it seemed he was having difficulty repressing.

Kethek watched the whole interaction unfold from peeking out behind the entrance.

The two continued talking as he turned around and pressed his back to the wall next to the entrance. He couldn’t explain the fast beating in his chest, nor could he explain the amused smile on his face. One thing was for certain though and that was that the prince wasn’t exactly what his first impression had made him out to be. Kethek was ok with admitting that this version of him seemed a lot more genuine. A lot happier.

Hunk and him were obviously very close. He referred to him by name and never once said “my prince” or “your highness.” He had called him Lance. And he had called the queen Allura. There was a whole, very large barrier that Hunk had opened into the true nature of the prince and Kethek, in spite of everything, was beginning to like what he saw on the other side.

Chapter Text

Lance woke up with a long, loud, drawn out groan as soon as the first lights of day filtered through his barely open eyes.

Sure it was dramatic, Lance could admit that, but today was the first day of the hell that would be his insufferable new life without privacy. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if his day wasn’t so packed with responsibility or if his private guard wasn’t such an ass but Lance had no such luck.

It had barely been a full quintant of knowing him and he had held a knife up to his neck and humiliated him. Not only was it rude, unnecessary, and completely uncalled for, but honestly, what the hell kind of diplomatic greeting involves knives and embarrassment?! Lance was a prince, and he deserved to be given the respect that that title carried, even if it came from some short, broody, sword yielding, hot shot galra rebel.

Swinging his legs off of the side of his bed he stood up and stretched. As much as he would have ‘loved’ to have stayed in yesterday's meeting to watch his new stone faced guard squirm as Allura undoubtedly told him off using every single intimidation tactic she knew on him, he was not all that disappointed that he missed it. Lance knew hearing Allura’s list of demands would’ve made him angry. He really didn’t want to know all the instructions she had given Kethek to ensure that his way of life was completely and utterly restricted.

Another sigh left his lungs with that thought and he began to get ready, going through the motions of his daily routine. He brushed his teeth and washed his face all while begrudgingly thinking that this Kethek guy had probably never heard of proper hygiene in his life. It didn't necessarily look like that was true in terms of appearances. Not at all actually, but Lance was looking to grasp at every straw he could think of that would make him hate him more whether it was true or not.

Drying his face, he looked himself over in the mirror, giving himself a confident smirk and moved on to his vanity to select his jewelry starting first by removing his circlet crown from its glass holding case and placing it in its usual spot across his forehead.

It was then that he started to consider the ever important choice of what to wear. His first order of business today, unfortunately, required a more conservative attire, so he rifled through his closet to look for something high necked and long.

After a fair amount of debate, he decided on a fitted, but not too fitted, blue long sleeved formal top that zipped up in the back. It only took him five or so minutes to awkwardly fumble around with the zipper to zip himself up. It was an effort he thought he would have down by now as most of his outfits zipped up similarly in the back but he still was awkward and clumsy whenever he had to do it for himself.

Finally feeling the zipper stop as he hit the neckline of his shirt, he looked it over in his vanity mirror. It had this beautiful gold embroidered stitching that went around the neck and down the sleeves that Lance was quite fond of and made up for the lack of visible skin that the shirt prevented him from showing off.

He then paired it with long navy pants that were again, tight, but not too revealing. Still though, he turned to look over his butt in the mirror to double check that it wasn’t too accentuated in the ways it usually was in other outfits. After considering himself for a bit he decided to play it safe and wear a cape.

It was made of this silky, semi sheer floor length fabric that covered his backside and obscured any and all attention that his lovely behind could have received. With that, he headed for his door.

Before he was even able to reach it though, he heard a knock, followed by the very last voice he had wanted to hear that morning.

“Your highness, I’ve been sent to a company you to-“

“-My meeting with the delegates from the planet Paxum,” the prince said, walking out the door past his guard who quickly moved to follow him as he walked down the hall. “Yes I’m aware, but allow me to make this perfectly clear. You’re my guard, not my time keeper. I’m plenty capable of managing my own schedule. This is not my first day in a position of royalty, it’s my first day with someone to slow me down, so I suggest you stick to your assigned duties, keep your mouth shut, and take out assassins if you so happen to see any. You can take away my independence, but nobody tells me what to do, is that clear?” Lance said cutting him off with an eloquent spew of quick biting words.

Kethek blinked at him, and Lance smugly detected a hint of shock at his forwardness, though it was well disguised amidst his usual scowl.

“Yes your highness.” He replied simply, saying nothing more. He just turned his gaze forwards down the hall and distanced himself to walk a few paces behind Lance.

Lance huffed, satisfied enough with that answer and straightened his back. Happy to ignore the steady thump of feet following behind him and attempted to forget that there was someone there at all. This of course would not halt his pending plans for how he would be able to evade him in the future, but he could handle this for at least today.

They made it to the room where two Altean guards were standing and Lance approached them, straightening out his shirt and smoothing out wrinkles as he spoke. “Have they been properly welcomed?”

“Yes your majesty. Coran is waiting with them inside. They seem to be cooperative.”

“Good.” He said. “Let’s proceed.”

The two guards bowed simultaneously and turned to open the doors. “His majesty, the crowned prince Lance of Altea.” They introduced and stepped sharply to the side to part and make way for him as he walked in.

Kethek tried to peer over the prince's shoulder curiously as the gathered group in the room all stood up upon his arrival and bowed deeply. The prince, with a very genuine and bright looking smile that Kethek had never seen on his face, nodded kindly and went around the table to shake hands with everyone, addressing them by name as if he had known them his whole life, and that they were close personal friends of his before sitting down amongst them, smile still bright.

Kethek was impressed. The prince was incredibly prepared. From what he had been informed in the briefing of the day's schedule, he knew that the prince had never met these people until today, and had only been preparing for this meeting for the past two days. He had even changed up his attire to be compliant with the society’s conservativeness, which, as far as he knew, wasn’t even necessary. He must have done it simply out of respect.

Kethek stepped into the room after the prince and took a stance by the door as the other two Altean guards closed them behind him. He could feel eyes start to settle on him as the prince finished his greetings around the table. It must have been obvious because when the prince looked to see what they were looking at he jumped right into what felt like a very rehearsed explanation.

“Ah, yes, my apologies for not informing you sooner, this has been a fairly recent development and was only established yesterday evening. I am going to be accompanied by a guard until the issue with my safety is taken care of. I’m sure you’ve all heard of the assassins that broke into the castle?”

The group nodded sympathetically at Lance, who took their pity graciously.

“It is a troubling thing yes, but I trust my safety as well as yours to the royal guards and to him, regardless of the fact that he is of Galran descent, and I hope that this doesn’t impede our discussions today.”

The gathered party seemed to remain a bit uneasy, but none of them were cowering in fear of him anymore and for the most part managed to tolerate his presence. The prince, clearly, knew what he was doing.

The prince directed much of his dialogue to the planet's king. Sharing with him ways that they planned on helping to increase the planet's defenses, pointing out weak points in their battle strategies that they had used in the last fight, and shared how exactly Altea and himself would be implementing efforts to keep the planet liberated, and include them in the fights against the Galra.

Lance’s knowledge was expansive, and Kethek was consistently impressed with how effectively he was able to mediate. There was no question he didn’t have an answer to. He seemed to never be stuck for an idea, and knew exactly how to talk in a way that earned him trust and respect. He was so very knowledgeable on so much. Kethek was even learning as he pretended to not be listening. The prince was extremely dedicated to his mission and it was clear to everyone in the room how passionate he was.

When the meeting closed, The prince said his farewells and then was immediately on the move again. The first meeting was one of many he had that day and Lance moved so quickly and efficiently that even Kethek had trouble keeping up at times. Every hour of his day was occupied with something, and Lance knew every detail without any problems. There wasn't a single hitch, a second of uncertainty. He was in control and nobody questioned it.

Kethek hadn't even been doing anything other than following him around but by the time Altea’s sun had sunk down into the horizon, he was exhausted. Lance did not falter for an instant though. He had only eaten on the go, never taking breaks, had been with people all day and yet, there weren't any signs of fatigue. To say that Kethek was impressed would be an understatement.

Throughout the day he couldn't help himself from comparing this version of a focused, and serious royal figure to the youthful and mischievously fun Altean he had gotten a glimpse of in the blue lion's hangar just the night before. It was like they were two completely different people. And now Kethek knew this whole other side of the prince that he was starting to realize the majority of the population of Altea didn't know. It was a strange, but incredibly intriguing contrast, and Kethek found himself desperately wanting to know more.

But that… would take time, if it would happen at all. The prince was making it very clear that he was not interested in knowing Kethek at all. He’d said as much the day before. He wanted nothing to do with him and was fine without him. As much as the prince was starting to intrigue him, Kethek didn’t think it would be all too easy to break past that.

Kethek, looking over his schedule now, for what had to be the 30th time that day, felt his gut twist when he read: ”meet with the court” as the next task. Kethek was not an easily intimidated person. If anything, he was the one who usually ended up intimidating everyone else, even if he hadn't been intending to. But these Altean royals, the prince and the queen, and even their royal court were not easily intimidated either. They were commanding and strong in ways that Kethek couldn't help but respect. The queen most especially was a force Kethek would not choose to reckon with on any given occasion, and her particular hatred of him only made it worse. It was enough that Kethek found himself in a rare state of nervousness with the prospect of seeing her again.

The prince did not delay, however and pushed forwards to meet his sister where the schedule instructed him to.

Immediately upon his entry, the entire room of at least 30 royal officials got to their feet and bowed deeply. The prince barely gave them more than a glance as he strode in, muttering “at ease” as he walked to his throne at the front of the room.

Kethek followed behind him and took his place behind him against the front wall that the two thrones backed out to and watched as the prince seated himself down for what had to be the first time all day.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Kethek noticed the familiar red of Coran’s hair appear as he made his way over to the prince hurriedly.

“Thank you for coming Lance.” He said with a smile, the way he addressed him by name reminding Kethek that this man's relationship to the royals was, as Coran had admitted, almost paternal.

“I assure you this shouldn't take long,” he continued. “Allura just mentioned to me that she has some things to discuss quickly with you and the court.”

Lance nodded and rubbed at his temple. “Where is she now?” He asked tiredly.

“On her way.” Coran replied. “She should be here any tick.”

And as if on cue, the queen appeared, walking with elegance as the room stood up, just like they had for the prince.

“At ease.” She said to the room, just as Lance had, and took her place in the throne beside him.

Coran went to greet her as well and then turned to stand at her side, the room awaiting her words.

Clearing her throat, the queen began.

“As all of us know, the summer festival is upon us.” She began. “Many preparations are already underway and much of the kingdom is in anticipation of the event.”

Kethek didn't miss the little spark that graced the prince’s eyes at the mention of the summer festival. It made him sit up in his chair just a bit more, his attention seemingly sharpened.

But the words that followed Allura’s introduction didn't end up sitting as well as they had seemed to at first.

“The summer festival, as all of you are keenly aware, is a massive event. It is one of unity with the palace and the kingdom. It celebrates open borders and requires significant security measures throughout the kingdom. Knowing this, an attack on the festival ball feels inevitable. Going through with it is simply the perfect fodder for an attack and it is for this reason that I ask that we debate the possibility of calling off the summer festival this movement.”

A rumbling of surprise slowly bubbles through the room as Altean’s looked to each other in disbelief. The Prince, in particular, seemed to be outraged at the idea.

“Allura?” He spoke up. “How can you even suggest such a thing?!” He asked.

Allura looked to Lance with a stern frown.

“It is my opinion that a ball is the absolute last thing that we should be hosting at this time. Do you understand how dangerous it could be? What could happen to you Lance?!”

“But Allura, it’s tradition! We’ve done this every year since we were children! Since mother and father were children! What would it say to our people about the stability of their kingdom if we cancel the most celebrated event on Altea?”

“It is no secret that we are in troubled times, Lance.” The queen said. “Your safety is integral to the stability and safety of Altea as a whole. No, it is not ideal, but I feel that the risk is far too great.”

“My queen.” A member of the court said, standing up. “In this case I must agree with his highness, prince Lance. The summer festival is not only a tradition, but a spiritual event for many of our people. Calling off the celebration could be devastating for this kingdom. It would serve as a sign that we are truly in great peril and could cause widespread panic, not just for our citizens, but for the rebellion as well. Are we truly in the position where we could risk the faith of countless members of the coalition?”

“Your concern is heard, chancellor.” The queen replied. “And it is one that I too have considered in depth, but the prince's safety is already severely threatened. The festival opens us up to vulnerabilities we can not afford.”

“It won’t matter if I’m safe or not, Allura.” The prince argued back again without restraint. “Not if all of our allies look to us and see that we’ve canceled our dearest tradition as a culture because of the threats that it poses during a time of war. Maybe we aren’t prepared to combat all that is against us, but is that worse than losing the faith of all the people who stand with us in this fight? So many look to us Allura. How can we possibly show such vulnerability in the time that they need us most?”

It was then that Coran spoke up, clearing his throat as the collective group of court officials and the queen and the prince turned to look at him.

“Your highnesses.” He speaks evenly. “I feel it serves useful to bring this up, and disagree with your claims that we aren’t evenly matched in this specific scenario. I do believe that- provided we use all our resources thoroughly, the prince's safety is more than secured.”

“How do you mean, Coran.” Allura asked, seeming skeptical, but far more desperate for a solution than she was to entertain her skepticism.

“We have the Blade of Marmora standing with us.” Coran replies, and Kethek literally feels like the entire room instantly turns thirty degrees cooler, all other sound cutting off so abruptly that the silence rings in his ears. He doesn’t even need to look at the queens hands to know that they’re balled into fists in her lap.

“What of it.” She asks, her voice carefully tempered.

Coran is suddenly looking at Kethek now, his eyes informing Kethek that he was about to direct his next words at him and Kethek stiffens.

“Kethek, you’ve heard the dilemma, what is your input? Based on your knowledge of the Galra and what protections you know you will be able to give, do you believe it is necessary to call off the festival?”

No. That was Kethek’s answer. One he held tightly under his tongue before daring to speak. He had already come to this answer but speaking it would be directly defiant of the queens initial suggestion. Did that matter? Would the queen resent him for telling his honest truth, even if it contradicted her advisement? Kethek didn’t know. What he did know is he had a glowing opportunity, in front of the entire royal court no less, to plant himself as an ally with them and get them to start understanding how prepared he was to take on any challenges they had. Prove to them that he was worthy of their trust so that there wasn’t any doubt that he was on their side.

He felt the eyes of the entire room on him and the silence that began ticking into the space after Coran’s words only doubled the anxiety he was presently confronting.

He cleared his throat softly, feeling the cool, shining blue eyes of the prince on him, analyzing and considering him critically for the first time all day even though he hadn’t left his side once. The realization of the intense watch they had on him feels like a splash of water over his head, running down him slowly and melting into the heat of his skin.

Disagreeing with the queen, as he found himself feeling more and more like he was going to, would consequently align with the princes own opinions which could be good for Kethek’s standing with him personally, but he still had no idea how his opinions of the situation would rest with the other members of the court other than the chancellor guy who had spoken up.

Kethek, deciding eventually that the stretching silence wasn’t worth any more of his agony, spoke up quickly, deciding to just speak his mind as honestly as he could.

“Though I respect both sides of this issue, and see merit in the concerns that all of you are presenting, I do not, personally, feel that it would be wise, nor would it be necessary to call off the festival.” He said, straightening his back and putting forth his most professional voice and lingo.

“Even I, a Galran who has spent much of my life as a spy in the Galra ranks, never having even set foot on this planet until now, let alone in your galaxy, know the importance of this event to your people. I’m fairly certain the entire universe does. To outsiders this festival is a symbol of Altea itself. To many it is a marker of your strength as a civilization. A testament to your extensive history and leadership throughout eons of time. It is for this reason that I must agree with the prince. Canceling the festival would be a grave mistake.”

“The Galra themselves hold a tremendous amount of value in tradition and ritual. Our ceremonies are integral to the strength of the empire. News of Altea canceling what some Galran’s may even consider to be the Altean equivalent of something like our Krahl Zera… it would essentially be seen as a sign of surrender. It could destroy the planet's reputation of strength.”

“As for the prince's safety, I feel that my and the Blade of Marmoras abilities are far too suited to adequately protect him in all the necessary ways to warrant the canceling of an event that’s so dear to your people. I still feel it is necessary that I get the opportunity to observe the spaces the prince will be located during the festival beforehand to best determine what measures of security I need to procure and where, but other than that, I feel confident in promising you that the prince will not be harmed under any circumstances. Myself and the Blade of Marmora are willing to put forth our lives to ensure it.”

The room kind of just… echoes with silence for many of the moments that follow. Every pair of eyes still on him in what Kethek is pointedly choosing not to see as shock.

Maybe it was too much. Here he had been, completely silent for the whole delegation and then he’s asked one stupid little simple question and he goes off for five minutes straight. Does it seem as bad to all of them as it feels to him? Should he have just kept it simple with a yes or a no? Why wasn’t anyone saying anything?!

His slight panic was boiling under his mask of calm indifference that he had been trying to maintain for so long and he hopes to god that it didn’t show through. He does his best to look only at Coran and not at either of the blue eyes of the royals that were still on him. Coran who watches him back with a look that Kethek can’t quite read, which for Coran, is rare.

Finally, feeling like a gust of cold air through what had been the terribly sweltering metaphorical heat of tension and quiet, Coran speaks up. “There you have it, your highnesses. A perfectly thorough analysis from none other than the head of the prince's personal security.” He says. “With this input, I feel the decision is all but made.”

He looked down to the queen who Kethek finally allowed himself to glance at as she pressed her lips together and let out a long breath. “You’re right Coran. It… seems…” She said, sounding irritable. “It seems we have no choice.” She turned back to face Kethek, looking a lot more tired than bitter, which was not exactly what Kethek had expected.

“I will arrange to meet with you sometime this week to personally ensure that your confidence in my brother's safety is valid. Once I’ve determined for myself that you are capable, we will begin the necessary preparations for the festival. See to it that the rest of the Blade are aware of the extra support that will be needed.”

Allura didn't wrinkle her nose and gripe about how the thought of having more Galra on her planet was terribly displeasing. She didn’t snarl at Kethek or even so much as show her distaste for him. She just sighed, looking defeated and turned back to the crowded room.

“Are we all in agreement?” She asked.

The room murmured with various nods of heads and verbal “yeses.”

By this point the room had all turned their attention from him finally. So that's why he definitely did not miss the way that the prince's eyes still lingered on his. Never once looking away.

Kethek pretended he didn't notice and observes Lance’s ever present scrutiny out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't stop staring. Not when Allura continues talking. Not when Coran speaks up to say something again. Not when she adjourns the meeting… the prince just… watches him. Face as unreadable as ever. When Kethek finally does meet his gaze as he prepares to escort him out of the meeting, the prince doesn't even try to hide the fact that he had been staring. His eyes don’t flit away nervously when Kethek meets them. He doesn’t act as though he hadn’t intended to already have his eyes on him. He just stares a bit longer, calculating something that Kethek can't see.

Finally he looks away, standing up out of his throne he stretches a bit and walks forwards, not waiting for Kethek to follow as though the whole silent exchange hadn’t happened at all.

——

The weeks leading up to the most anticipated event on Altea go by surprisingly fast. At first it’s pretty simple, the royal officials show him around to the main locations in the castle that will hold festivities including, but not limited to the courtyards, front entrance, throne room, gardens, and, of course, the ballroom.

When Kethek had entered the ballroom for the first time he was immediately taken aback. It was huge and in Kethek's opinion, completely unnecessary. A giant chandelier hung from the ornately painted and constructed gold dome roof, every expensive jewel glittering so brightly it seemed almost impossible considering the dimmer glow of the room.

Without the presence of a party or festivity, it was still absolutely breathtaking in its grandeur. Seemingly the crown jewel of the castle. The prince however just seemed bored when he trailed in after Kethek, looking at the room around him with a dull expression that was probably developed through years of growing up in spaces so lavish that the novelty had worn down. Either that, or the prince truly didn’t even realize how much luxury he lived in and how incredible it truly was.

The prince remained unenthusiastic for the majority of the other times that Kethek was with him, only showing enthusiasm when he was being introduced to diplomats, though now that Kethek had spent time with him, he wasn’t sure how genuine it truly was. If Kethek was honest, it was a little concerning how bored and unamused he seemed to be with… everything.

He let it be for a little while, not pushing his boundaries with the prince, trying to maintain a level of professionalism with him. It was one night in particular though that seemed to finally tip the scales, making their relationship transform into something much more complicated than Kethek had ever anticipated so quickly.

It was in the dead of the night when an alarm on Kethek’s suit started beeping.

He had been trying to doze off, not feeling like readying himself for bed, but feeling sleepy enough that if he sat down and rested his eyes for a bit, he could get a decent few minutes of sleep that would sustain him for the day tomorrow. But the beeping pulled him out of the sleepy haze he had managed to sink under in an instant and he was suddenly wide awake again.

He tapped at the wrist cuff on his suit, calling up a holographic screen of a map of the castle that Coran had programmed. On it, a little blue dot was shown moving slowly down the hall.

Kethek sighed. Lance had left his room.

Standing, he went to go find him. He only had to round a few quick corners before he finally got to him, the boy still seeming to glow under the low light as he walked quietly down the hall.

Kethek sighed again, shaking his head, annoyed. Did the prince really think he was being sly? He knew that this was something his sister had decreed would be strictly forbidden until the threat was neutralized. Clearly, the prince still didn’t care.

He walked up behind him silently and as soon as he was within a foot of him he cleared his throat and tried not to take pleasure in the way the prince squawked with surprise and shot his gaze over to him. As soon as his blue eyes landed on Kethek’s, they instantly narrowed with anger. He let out an annoyed humph and groaned, thrusting his hands into his already tousled hair as he turned back around, clearly annoyed.

He was devoid of any jewelry or other adornments. He wasn't even wearing his crown. Seeing him without his usual get up was... strange. More strange than he thought it would be. The blue marks beneath his eyes were almost more apparent without the usual amount of decoration, and his natural features, in Kethek's opinion, were enhanced.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you that you should be in your room right now, your highness. You aren’t safe to walk the halls alone at night.”

“How the hell are you even- you’re- it’s literally the ass crack of dawn and you’re in full quiznacking uniform?! Do you sleep? What the hell?”

The questions felt directed more to himself than they were to Kethek or anyone else. He muttered them unhappily, glaring at Kethek with almost as much distaste as the queen herself. Kethek pretended he didn’t notice the similarities in their unhappy facial expressions from the shape of their pointed faces to the curved narrow slits of their eyes. He ignored the feeling of slight discomfort he felt when seeing the queen's face resembled so clearly in the prince's annoyed and exasperated face.

“I’m alerted whenever you leave your room. It’s my job to be ready to stop you from making stupid decisions.”

It seemed that both the prince and himself were a bit surprised at the forwardness of that comment and the slight lack of professionalism that Kethek had let slip.

The prince brushed it off though and turned around, ignoring him as he pushed forwards where he had been going down the hall. The glare that Kethek received from him when he had stepped in front of him and stopped him from moving forward was vicious.

“Move.” He said shortly. Staring Kethek down, using their slight difference in height to his advantage.

“You know I can not do that your highness.” Kethek replied tiredly.

Lance groaned sliding his hands down his face in demonstration of his irritability. “What's your quiznacking problem, man?! Can't you just let me go for a walk around my castle at night if I want?”

“No.” Kethek said. “It's still dangerous.”

The prince looked visibly exhausted, running his hands through his hair and sighing. “Fine. You know what? Fine! Asshole! God! My life is the most pathetic…” He kept mumbling as he turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway again to go back to his room, getting far enough away after a while that Kethek couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore, and in spite of his better judgement, Kethek felt guilty.

He could sympathize, in some ways, with the prince, even if what he was doing was irresponsible and they both knew it. He wanted to be left to his own devices. He wanted to live his life. Having someone like Kethek on his back had to be frustrating. So for whatever reason, he took pity on him and blurred out something he really hadn’t expected he would actually say.

“I can accompany you however.” Kethek said to Lance’s back quickly. If you would like.

Lance halted in his steps, pausing a bit before turning back, giving him a skeptical look.

“Technically I am instructed to keep you in your room, but…” Kethek hesitated. He wanted to earn Lance’s trust. To show him that he was on his side, and that he trusted him too. He chose then to drop formalities, letting his spine relax a bit, offering Lance a look of solace.

“Look, I get it.” He said. “Sometimes You need a distraction, and trying to sleep just doesn't work. My job is to keep you safe, and I'll do that. But Nobody has to know about my breaking minor rules if it helps you relax…”

Lance just stared at him seeming as though he didn't believe his words. His eyebrows furrowed, but he turned around.

“Ok....” he said, drawing out the word. “Then I'm going to the kitchens.” He began walking forwards again and Kethek quietly trailed behind him.

Lance stretched, rolling his shoulders and yawning as they reached the entrance. He walked languidly to the counter and began collecting an assortment of food on his plate. Kethek stood at attention by the door, watching him. He filled a glass with some liquid Kethek couldn't name, and took a seat at the table, draping himself over the edge, one arm propping him up.

He was about to lift the glass to his lips when he looked up at Kethek, like he was only just realizing that he hadn't sat down with him.

Lance drew his eyebrows together and gave him a slightly irritated look of confusion.

“What, you're not allowed to sit either?” He asked sarcastically, gesturing to the seat across from him like it was ridiculous that he wasn't already there, his face twisted in annoyance.

“No, I'm allowed but for your safe-“ Kethek began but Lance cut him off, rolling his eyes.

“Oh my god, Just fucking sit down.” He said.

Kethek bristled in surprise but obeyed the prince, walking tentatively to the seat across from him, Lance’s eyes following him as he chewed, seeming to inspect him, looking him up and down.

When Kethek sat, Lance looked back at his plate, chewing and looking to be deep in thought. A long quiet ensued as Lance ate before he spoke up.

“How old are you.” Lance asked unprecedentedly, still watching the food he was pushing around.

Kethek was taken back by his question but answered after a moment of hesitation. “Twenty four,” he responded.

The prince quirked an eyebrow. “Geez, you're pretty young to have such a giant stick up your ass.”

For perhaps the umpteenth time that night, Kethek didn't know how to respond to one of the prince's unexpected comments.

“Do you ever, like, not take things so seriously?” He asked. Meeting his eyes.

Kethek's heart skipped, without permission when their eyes met, shocked at just how strikingly blue they were under the dim glow of the kitchen's lights.

The prince was presenting himself to Kethek in ways that he had never seen him. Away from nobles, citizens of Altea, and even his sister, Lance was incredibly more casual. Almost like how he had been with the big Altean with yellow markings. Just less… friendly. He had a snarky sarcastic sense about him that Kethek hadn't assumed of him when they first met. Rather he seemed to be the professional, stubborn, hard ass that he was accusing Kethek of being now. Why he was choosing to show this side of himself to Kethek of all people, he didn't know.

When he didn't respond, Lance continued. Taking another sip from his glass. “Look.” He said. “I don't like being smothered, and I don't like unnecessary tension. But if my sister is going to sick you on to me for the rest of time I'd rather get over all these stupid formalities, and tell you that you are the last thing I want in my life right now.”

He paused, allowing himself to chew and swallow his food.

“But,” he continued, “I'm pretty sure I won't be able to get out of this, so if you start treating me like a person rather than a fragile little flower, and loosen up a bit, we'll get along fine. Let me live my life and if there's ever someone going to stab me in the back, then you can stop them. But I'm not going to tolerate coddling and whatever other shit rules Allura gave you on how to treat me, got that?”

With his words, Kethek finally felt that he was starting to understand the prince. At least in some ways. What he was asking for was respectable, and Kethek was willing to give him that, as long as he knew that he was going to be with him at all times, like Allura had instructed him to be.

The prince was becoming more real with every interaction they had. Here, in this room, watching him slump over the table and eat his food with the most unamused face Kethek thought he had the ability to make, without his royal attire and glittering adornments, he looked normal.

Kethek nodded. “Yeah.” He replied. “I get it.”

“Great.” The prince said unenthusiastically, before he lifted himself back up. He downed the last of his drink and then walked to put away his dishes. Kethek pushed away the mild surprise he felt upon witnessing an Altean royal wash his own dishes, his hands soapy as he scrubbed the surface of the plate before rinsing it off with water.

When the prince grabbed the entire bottle of the drink he had been sipping on earlier, Kethek looked curiously at him and asked, “what is that stuff.”

The prince frowned, looking down at the bottle. “If it’s any good?” He said, “It will help me forget that we ever had this conversation.” And with that, he took a big swig, right from the bottle, meeting Kethek’s eyes in a deadpan stare before he turned and walked out the doors. Kethek followed him silently back to Lance’s room, watching as he wordlessly scanned his hand to open the doors and walk inside, leaving Kethek in the hallway without another word.

——

Over the next few days, Kethek was proven that the prince truly did not listen to anyone but himself when he had to drag the prince back to his room multiple times after midnight escapes to the kitchens, Lance acting as annoyed every time, like he truly couldn’t believe he kept getting caught.

Usually he let the prince go along and do what he had been planning to, accompanying him like he had the first time, swallowing his protests which he knew wouldn’t be appropriate to speak allowed whenever Lance brought back another bottle of the forgetful liquid back with him that Kethek was certain was some kind of alcohol.

It went on like that for a while until suddenly, it stopped. It had almost completely slipped past Kethek’s radar until he found himself waiting for the beep on his suit to come and getting confused as more hours passed into the night and it never came.

He scowled as soon as he realized and quickly pulled up the map, feeling his stomach drop with a mixture of anger and concern when somehow, the blue dot that represented Lance wasn’t in his room, but somewhere completely across the castle.

Heat flared in Kethek’s ears. How the hell had he managed… where was he?

With a few angry swipes, he zoomed in on the prince's new location and read the description of the room.

Lance was in the fucking spa in the middle of the goddamn night.

Groaning angrily, Kethek thrust himself out of his chair and stormed off in his direction, following the map that projected from his wrist. It was so unbelievably far from the prince's room that every step further made Kethek’s blood boil. How was the spa this far away and Kethek was only noticing that he was gone now? How had the alarm not gone off? He had no idea how long the prince had been there. Anything could have happened to him in the time that it had taken Kethek to notice. He could already be dead!

That idea coursed another wave of nauseating panic and anger through him and then he was quickening his pace. Almost jogging through the long and winding halls of this never ending castle.

Finally, after several long minutes, he came to the double doors and bounded through, feeling his entire body slap against a wall of thick humidity as he entered. Steam enveloped him and the moisture in the air felt like it clung to his skin.

He looked around, realizing how slippery the floors were and treaded carefully around the room looking for the troublesome prince. There were several circular wading pools directly in front of him, seemingly varying in temperature and color. Some of it ice cold, and others steaming hot. Some bubbly, some still and flat as glass. Some expansive, some only fit for one person. Some didn’t even look like water, the substance thicker and tinted a light rose color. Others blue some purple.

He didn’t have the slightest idea what they could all be for, never having seen anything like it before and was perplexed, quite honestly, at the spectacle. All around him hung giant lush plants, some flowering with Altean flowers that were as elegant as the royals themselves, others green and winding, spreading over the ground and up the columns that stood in between the different pools.

On either side of the main room there were archways that lead to other areas of the spa, but Kethek ignored them because as he made his way through the room, he saw an entrance to an open room in the back that appeared to have no roof. And under the blanket of sky, in a steaming pool that was bigger than all the rest that had come before it, was a long, tan, white haired figure, sprawled lazily against the marble-like curved edge of the pool.

Kethek nearly growled at the sight of him as he made his way through the steamy room. Setting his eyes on the mischievous prince made him walk with less caution of the slippery floors for the sake of getting to him faster, and in result, he nearly slipped and fell on his ass several times.

When he entered, he realized that the room wasn’t in fact outdoors, but under a glass dome that gave a perfect view to the starry sky above. Plants still sprawled around the curved outer edges of the room and steam still floated heavily, but this room did feel just a bit lighter than it had inside. As Kethek approached the outer edge of the pool, he finally got a good look at the prince and practically scoffed at the sight.

Surrounding him were at least a dozen bottles of the same drink that he had been hoarding back to his room for the past few days. In one hand he held a glass and in the other, he had a fucking gun. Like a small, black, pistol just casually resting in his hand.

He was topless, of course, the bubbles and foam of the pool fizzing around his torso and climbing up to his chest as he slumped against the wall of the pool, his head tilted back and arms splayed on either side of him resting on the pools marble edge just above the water. His skin was, of course, glowing, dripping with rivulettes of water and sweat, the droplets beading over his skin and at the curling ends of his white hair. He had earnings in still, several dangling jewels around his limbs, and still wore his circlet across his forehead. Unlike the last couple of times where he had left with nothing adorning him at all.

Realizing that he hadn’t said anything, having been too distracted by the sight of him, he spoke up, loudly, edging as much sternness into his voice as he could when he said “your highness.”

To Kethek’s utter annoyance, this time, his sudden appearance in front of the prince didn’t even make him flinch. He opened his eyes at the sound and his entire face lit up instead.

“Kethek!!! He said, “oh no!! You got meee!”

Kethek blinked at him, analyzing the slurred manner in which the words fell from Lance’s tongue.

The prince was plastered.

He was giggling now, apparently pleased with himself as Kethek leveled him with a glare.

“Are you drunk?” He asked, more interested in hearing Lance admit to it than getting the answer, which he already knew.

“Oh totally.” The prince smirked, without even an ounce of shame. “I’ve n’ver been happier about aneethin…” he slurred. “I feel fantastic. The waters great, you shuld totally join man!”

“My prince.” Kethek griped, his jaw tight. “Do you have any idea how irresponsible this is?! How much danger you put yourself in?”

“Wadaya mean?” The prince asked. “I came prepared!” He lifted the hand that held the gun and spun it around on his finger in a practiced way that showed an annoying amount of grace even though the prince was hammered. The gun landed back in his palm after its spin, poised to shoot, Lance’s finger on the trigger with a crooked smirk on his face. “I n’ver miss.” He mumbled smugly.

Kethek sucked in a long, calming breath, pressing his lips together in a thin line and closed his eyes, unclenching the fists that he had been holding at his sides.

“Your highness, do you actually believe that in your state, you would be able to-“ and then, before he could even finish his sentence, he was jolted by the sound of a gunshot suddenly ringing out through the room and his eyes flew open to see Lance’s arm outstretched and pointed right at him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a potted planter that had been hanging by his head swinging side to side next to him. Turning his head, he looked at it, realizing in a daze that one of the decorative circles carved out of the ceramic had a bullet hole, dead in the center of it. Kethek gaped at it and absently heard Lance start giggling again.

It wasn’t even a centimeter off. In any direction. It was exactly centered. How the hell was that even possible?! The prince was half way drunk out of his damn mind and all the way on the other side of the pool. Slouched into the water, and barely paying attention, he had aimed in seconds and nailed a perfect shot. Kethek finally understood why Lance was so adamant that he could protect himself. His reputation was clearly not one he received by any accident.

Kethek tore his eyes away from the bullet hole and back to Lance who was spinning his gun around his fingers again as he took a large gulp of his drink, slamming the glass back down when it was empty.

Who the hell was this guy?!

Kethek cleared his throat in an attempt to find his voice again and tried to cleanse his face of the shock look that had overcome it, returning back to a scowl. “How did you get out of your room without tripping the alarm?” He asked. And then Lance was giggling again, this time harder than the other times, almost mischievously.

“I’ve got a friend who’s good with wires and junk.” He said. He can fix anethin that’s screwed up. Even a beepy door. Don worry, he can’t be exiled for disobeying lura cuz I azkd him to do it and she loves him, so it’s a win win.”

“You had someone reprogram your door?” Kethek asked incredulously.

“He wasn’t gonna at first,” Lance smiled, his eyes suddenly darkening as he leveled Kethek with an almost sultry looking smirk. “But I can be very… convincing.” He grinned.

But then he was giggling again and he tipped his head back, his eyes squinting shut and his nose wrinkling. “And it totally worked!” He continued to grin. “Took ya like 3 doboshes to notice!”

Kethek blanched. “Three doboshes?!” He repeated. “Oh my fucking- alright that’s it, get out, I’m taking you back to your room.”

“Alright.” Lance smiled, complying so easily that it almost annoyed Kethek more than if he had tried to argue. “I’ve had my fun. Nd I’m sleepy.” He added. Kethek just sighed tiredly.

Lance waded over to the side of the pool Kethek was standing at, bringing his gun and a bottle of the infamous drink with him. Absently he stretched, standing up to his full height as Kethek pretended to busy himself with collecting Lance’s belongings while he stepped out of the pool and put on his robe that had been folded next to the edge.

Kethek didn’t let himself get the smallest glance of the prince's naked body and waited until he was good and sure that Lance was fully robed before he turned around to confront him again.

Lance was trying to tie the strap of his robe into a little bow but was failing miserably, his hands drunkenly fumbling with the strap.

“Keitheeeek.” He said with a long whine. “My robe is broken…”

“It’s not broken your highness,” Kethek said with more amusement and far more fondly than he had expected to. “You’re just very drunk.” The whole thing was kind of silly, watching prince, ‘I can shoot a bullet inches away from your head and still hit a bullseye without an ounce of effort while completely shitfaced’ struggle with a task that is learned by nearly every child before the age of 4.

“You do it.” The prince mumbles, giving up. Kethek sighs, inexplicably feeling like he wanted to smile a bit, and went over to the prince, obeying his request and tying a quick bow on the robe.

“Alright now, come on.” Kethek instructs, gently nudging Lance forwards, and lurching to catch him in his arms when Lance tries to take a single step forwards and ends up losing his balance completely. Kethek propped him up from under his arms and grunted as the prince's weight fell into him. He giggles like it was the funniest thing in the world and Kethek really, really wanted to be annoyed at him, but again, for whatever inexplicable reason, a smile felt like it wanted to pull at the corner of his lips as he shook his head, somehow with more fondness than distaste.

“Come on, you idiot.” Kethek mumbles. Supporting Lance under his arm. “Let’s go.”

“Mmmm.” He heard Lance mutter. “You’re so strong.” He smiles. “Big strong, grumpy, Galra man.”

“I’m grumpy because you keep making stupid decisions.” Kethek retorts, doing his best to ignore every other word that had come out of the princes mouth.

The prince just keeps giggling, and god damnit, it sounds like bells and Kethek’s penchant to be frustrated with him started to dissolve against his will.

“Nooooo.” He says back. “You’re just always grumpy. Is really a bummer… kinda annoying too.”

“Well if you start actually listening to me, and doing what your sister asks of you, then I won’t be grumpy anymore.”

The prince giggles some more, booping Kethek on the nose with a long, slender finger. “I don’t believe you.” He said.

He takes another wobbly step and is suddenly slumping face first into Kethek’s chest again, humming against it happily.

Kethek pushes away the hot feeling in his cheeks and readjusts the prince again, turning him around and leading him through the arched entrances of the spa and around the pools as he stumbles and slips over the floors. Finally, when they exit and the doors close behind them, Lance seems to have regained his proper ability to walk, and strides away, still swaying a bit as he heads towards his room.

Kethek was grateful that it’s still the middle of the night, because Lance was being obnoxious and was so obviously drunk, he knew that if anyone else were to see him like this, not only would Kethek most likely be reprimanded for it, but Lance would look far more foolish in front of his subjects than any prince should. A strong reputation, especially in this war, was something worth protecting.

The prince is babbling something about Allura being no fun, “just like you Kethek!” and how he believes himself to be the most fun person ever and Kethek is torn between bewilderment, immense irritation, and amusement. How many layers did this guy have to peel? No more than a week ago, Kethek had been spending every day with the prince and never imagined he would end up here with how actively the prince had ignored him. But now he was spinning around down the halls, grinning like an idiot and laughing about jokes that went right over Kethek’s head and it was… equal parts concerning and endearing.

Kethek is well aware of the fact that usually people who get themselves to be this plastered have some reason for why. Some misfortune or anxiety that they want to escape from. The prince had more of those than Kethek could count on his fingers, so he didn’t doubt that this excessive drinking could be a result of that and was a bit concerned, but he couldn’t help himself when he wanted to smirk at him after he did something particularly amusing in his drunken stupor.

His concern overpowered his other emotions more though, and the nervous twisting in his gut did not go away, even after they had reached the prince's room.

Kethek realized that he would have to go in with him to make certain that he would go to bed safely and swallowed. Kethek was only permitted into the prince's bedroom if the prince needed him to be and requested his assistance. That and in emergencies. This wasn’t necessarily an emergency, but the hope of the prince actually getting to bed without face planting onto the floor first and then passing out was very likely, so when Lance put his hand on the scanning panel outside his room to unlock his door, Kethek followed in behind him, swallowing the bubble of nerves he felt sitting in his throat.

The room, to put it mildly, was fit for a prince. Golden hardwear, unexpectedly high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, a four post bed with a silky chiffon looking fabric draping elegantly around the perimeter of the bed and enclosing it. Tall arching windows and an entire wall of books large enough to fill a library. A fireplace in the corner with a sitting area that contained white, throne like fluffy couches and chairs. An extravagant vanity just outside the door to that Kethek presumed led to the bathroom, and another door that led to what had to be an expansive walk in closet.

The prince, bottle still in hand, flung himself over one of the couches and sighed contentedly, blindly grabbing for a glass that rested on the table beside him to, yet again, fill up with the drink.

Kethek tentatively followed behind him to stand next to the couch as he scowled down at the prince, trying to non verbally tell him not to drink that glass, but the prince, clearly, did not get the message.

Lance’s eyes were soft and heavy lidded as he looked up at Kethek. He looked at him more critically this time, not giggling or smirking like he had been. Then, quite out of the blue, he extended his arm out to him, offering the newly filled glass.

“Drink with me Kethek.” He mumbled, clearly still drunk out of his wits.

Kethek almost snorted. Was he serious?

“That’s not going to happen, Your highness. Frankly it’s a terrible idea.” He replied, “I need to be-“

“Bap bap bap-“ the prince said shushing him with his finger and shutting him up. “I don't care if it's a good idea, I just want someone to be drunk with. Being drunk alone is just a lonely bummer... then i'll be all depressed and you're gonna be the one who has to deal with it. Do you really want that?”

He stretched his arm out further to Kethek, waiting, but when he didn’t accept it and Lance was left holding it out to him for much longer than he had probably expected to be. He humphed and made a petulant face, snarking “be that way” before he downed the glass himself in one swift flick of his wrist.

“I think you’re done with the drinking for tonight,” Kethek finally allowed himself to say, quickly pulling the bottle from his hands as he readied himself to pour another glass. “So you don’t need anyone to be drunk with you because you’re going to bed.”

The prince pouted at him drunkenly but didn’t protest, just sighed and tilted his head back tiredly. Kethek moved to set the bottles on a very, very far away table, bottles he intended to take with him when he left, and walked back over to the prince who was now standing idly by the tall arching window at the front of his room. From behind him, he heard the prince sigh forlornly. It was the first bit of unhappiness that he expressed in what had been a formerly giddy drunken demeanor.

“Didja know that I used to be able to open these doors and walk out onto the balcony?” Lance spoke up, kind of out of nowhere. “I used to do it every morning and every night. Just walk out there and look out over the horizon. You could see the lights of the villages when it started to get darker. Then at night when the sky goes black you could lie down on your back and look at the stars.”

“Now though, it’s too dangerous.” He said, the look of peace on his face shifting into one of resentment. “They took out my doors and put in this window with this reinforced tinted glass. I’m honestly lucky that they even let me keep the window.”

“When I’m locked in here, I sit in front of it for hours. It’s just about all I can do to keep from going stir crazy.”

Kethek watched the prince, stunned yet again by the sudden openness he was displaying. Sure he may be drunk out of his wits, would probably hate himself in the morning for telling him any of this, but he still hasn’t expected it. His words were slurring less too, seemingly sobered slightly by the unhappiness that was probably filling him up where distracting things like the spa, or pouring himself another drink had been. Empty space that was now vulnerable to other emotions.

“When this is all over, I’m sure you’ll be able to go right back out there.” Kethek said back, trying to be reassuring.

“Yeah sure, when I’m dead.” Lance scoffed. “Because the only way this shit will end is when they’ve successfully put a bullet into me. Or wait, we’ve determined that it will probably be a knife, right? The whole “inadequate personal defense thing. Definitely gonna get stabbed to death then. Cool.”

“I won’t let that happen, your highness.” Kethek said firmly, almost on some kind of an instinct he didn’t know he had.

Lance yawned. “Yeah sure whatever you say.” And just like that, the moment was over.

Lance stumbled over to his vanity, letting out a long sigh. He removed his jewelry, seeming to know, even in his drunken state, where each went in the complex organization system on his desk.

The last item to go was his crown. An accessory that Kethek assumed to be worth more than his entire life. Lance lifted it from its resting place across his forehead and placed it into a glass case.

And then he was moving on to his bed across the room.

It happened so fast that Kethek didn’t have time to mentally prepare before his heart fell out of his chest, his stomach dropped, and he nearly combusted from the rush of blood that went to his face.

Lance stretched his shoulders back and let the robe he had put on after getting out of the pool fall to his elbows. It gathered in pools of fabric that draped conveniently past his waist to reveal Lance’s entire back side.

All Kethek saw was a flash of back muscles stretching from broad shoulders into tight ends at the slender curve of his hips, lean muscle and skin all tapering to the curve of his ass, tight and firm, before he was able to pull his eyes away and look desperately at the ground again, far less successfully than he had been able to at the pool.

“Your highness-“ he choked out quickly before he even realized that he had said it.

Lance looked over his shoulder with a curious expression, it turned into a smirk when he saw his guard shielding his eyes in a panic.

“Oh, what, Kethek, did my sister say you couldn’t look at my body or something?”

His words came out in a drunken jumble but Kethek could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I just wish to respect your privacy, your highness.” He said weakly.

Lance chuckled. “Hmm.” He mused. “The guard who is tasked to follow me wherever I go and hear every word I say, wants to respect my privacy.” He says with a smile. “How ironic. Luckily, I’m not shy about my body. I mean.. clearly not as shy as you are.” The prince said with another giggle.

“I’m not shy!” Kethek gritted out, snapping his head towards the prince and immediately regretting it.

He had gotten closer to him somehow, a smug smile on his lips as he amusedly watched Kethek’s face twist as he realized that the prince was now completely and utterly naked. The robe he had been wearing discarded on the floor behind him. He was all golden tan skin and long slender limbs. Broad shoulders tapering down into a narrow waist and a tight stomach and- holy fuck.

“It’s best that we get to know each other if we’re going to be in each other's personal space until I’m either dead, or the universe ends.” The prince continued.

Kethek desperately tried to re-control himself, but was failing miserably, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands going sweaty.

Lance gets closer and closer to him as he talks. “Why bother keeping our distance when your job is to watch my every move? Especially when it’s like this, because this is the kind of attention I don’t mind.”

Kethek was going to faint, keeping his eyes glued to the prince’s glittering blue ones, refusing to look anywhere else.

“I know I look good.” He smiled sweetly. “You don’t have to hide your attraction. If it was you, I know I wouldn’t. I’m sure you’ve got some nice eye candy under all this armor too.” He said and suddenly Kethek realized that his hands were now on his shoulder plates. Delicate fingers trailing over them and down to his front admiringly.

And Kethek, who was flustered beyond what he had ever thought possible, was suddenly reaching for a blanket that was thrown over one of the edges of a nearby couch and wrapping Lance up in it almost desperately. The warm, soft texture suddenly enveloping his bare body seemed to completely distract him and change his train of thought, because, like the drop of a hat, his expression changed from a sultry smirk to an adorable open mouthed grin as he took the blanket in his hands and pulled it tighter around himself, nuzzling into the fabric and squinting his eyes shut as he let out a happy little hum.

Finally allowed air to breathe, Kethek took one big step backwards and gasped while the prince was still distracted.

What the HELL had just happened?! His head was reeling still from their previously close proximity, the sweet smell of flowers that always seemed to cling to Lance’s skin still making him dizzy. The latent heat he radiated from being in a steam room making Kethek’s face feel hotter than it already was. And the prince knew EXACTLY what he had been doing. He’d been teasing him. Making him squirm and KNOWING the effect that it would have. He’d been messing with him and it had nearly rendered Kethek unconscious.

Finally regaining a bit of his courage back, he looked over at the prince again who was, for the millionth time that night, expressing a completely different emotion than he had been mere minutes before. From smug to giddy to sad to sexy and now, he looked like he was about to fall over with exhaustion. Scratch that, he WAS falling over, his eyes drooping shut with sleep.

Kethek stepped forwards to catch him and lead him back over to his bed, the prince stumbling at his side the whole way. Pushing away the silky draped fabric that hung from the posts of the bed, he flopped down and immediately curled up into the blanket and then passed out the second his body lay still, just like that.

Kethek couldn’t help but to just stare down at him, blinking. What a fucking whirlwind… Kethek let out a long breath of air and slowly, backed himself away from the bed letting the draping fabric fall back into place and obscure his view of the sleeping prince.

He ran his fingers through his hair, extremely overwhelmed by all that had just happened and shook himself to try and snap out of whatever daze the prince had managed to put him in.

Quickly, he moved around the room, tidying up. He folded the prince's infamous robe onto a chair neatly, brought a pale from the corner of the room over to the side of the bed Lance faced just in case he woke up and was nauseated. He prepared a glass of water from the sink in the bathroom, which unsurprisingly was almost as lavish as the spa itself had been, and set it on the bedside table.

Finally, with one last glance at the prince's bed, he muttered a soft “goodnight, your highness” and walked away. He grabbed the various bottles from the table he had placed them at to distance them from the prince and dumped all of the liquid that was left in them down the drain before he gathered them up and sent them through the trash shoot. Satisfied, he turned for the door and walked right back out of the prince's room and back into the silent halls of the castle, the prince's blue eyes and gleaming smile still clinging onto his every last thought.

Chapter Text

Lance had almost sworn he dreamt it.

Waking up the next morning and having it all come back to him so fast, while still being so hazy from sleep, he couldn't, for a minute, discern if it was or not. But then he got up and saw a pale at his bedside and a glass of water on his table and his robe… his goddamn robe was folded neatly into a chair. Kethek had most definitely been here. And everything… Every single thing he'd thought had been a dream was totally and completely real. Which meant that Lance HAD in fact stripped down to nothing and flirted shamelessly with his guard after having previously gotten drunk off of at least 5 full bottles of nunvil in the castle spa. Holy quiznacking hell.

Lance raked his fingers through his hair and let out a breath. It was fine right? He'd been drunk out of his mind. It was nothing. Kethek wouldn't think anything about the fact that Lance had called him pretty... He would forget all that because he knows Lance had been too drunk to take anything he said seriously, right?

Lance was kind of panicking. Panic to the point of restlessness, pacing around his room with so much pent up nervous energy that he was having trouble concentrating and - oh… oh god he was still naked. Completely and totally. The only thing that had been covering him was no one of the blankets from his couch. Unfortunately he could see it vividly now as the haze from sleep was subsiding. Kethek’s flushed face, the haste with which he enveloped his bare body in the blanket. God every new second he was awake another vivid memory punched him in the gut with regret. He had been so, very drunk.

It was still early in the morning thankfully, Lance having woken up earlier than usual probably due to the deep sleep coma the nunvil had put him under. Still, despite the few hours he had to spare, Kethek would be coming back soon to escort him around to his daily duties. He would have to be with him… all day… after… after he completely bared it all to him. Metaphorically and literally. At the thought Lance got chills. Bad chills. He needed Hunk. Hunk would know what to do.

Would Hunk be awake right now? He thought to himself looking across the room to the panel on his wall that he used to contact various areas of the castle. He could contact Hunk that way, but would Kethek be alerted to it? Of course he would. Kethek had a way to know every single thing that Lance did. Hell, he would probably be able to listen in on the call.

Lance paced around the room some more, eyeing the panel on the wall with a longing sort of caution while clutching the blanket around his shoulders tightly, not even bothering to try and dress himself just yet, his mind still too preoccupied with other stresses.

But after several long minutes of indecision and pacing, he couldn’t take it anymore, stomping his way over to the panel quickly and calling up Hunk, rehearsing his words for Kethek even more so than it was for Hunk as it rang.

A very tired, groggy sounding Hunk mumbled a slightly irritated ”hello” into the speaker and Lance had to physically restrain himself from word vomiting everything to him over the phone.

”Hey buddy!” He said, trying to keep the strain from his voice. ”Can you come up to my room real quick? My shower head is like busted or
something. Nothing’s working.”

”Your shower- Lance why the hell are you taking a shower this early…”

“You know how I am with hygiene!” Lance replied, “just pleeeeaaasseeee come over I need you!”

Lance did his best to try and emphasize his words in a way that would get the message to Hunk that this was not at all about a shower head but a crisis having to do with coming on to his guard by accident while drunk, but sadly, it didn't work.

Hunk grumbled something about “the things I do for you” and then let out a long suffering sigh. ”Can't you just magic it into working or something?” Hunk asked.

”Hunk, do you really think that I would use my alchemic powers, a rare, ancient art of the Altean people, for a plumbing issue??”

”Lance, I’ve personally seen you use your alchemy to heal a quiznacking papercut and to cheat at chance games.” And, well, Lance had to admit that was very true and had a plumbing issue actually existed there was no doubt Lance would try his hand at magically fixing it if that was even possible, but alas, there was no broken shower head, just a bit of broken dignity that Lance needed to rant about and-

”Damnit Hunk please just come up here!! It's not that hard!”

”Us mere mortals live a bazillion floors below you and Allura.” Hunk said dryly. And don't even get me started on the multiple security stops I'll have to make just to be cleared to get within 12 yards of you. I'll probably have to confront your guard and he's kind of terrifying and most definitely knows at least 30 different ways to kill me just using his hands.”

”Hunk, I need a shower. If I don't shower I might die. If you don't come up here and help me through this, I might never leave my room again. I will melt into a puddle of smelly shame and it will be YOUR FAULT.”

”God Lance, don't downplay the severity. If you want to convince me you'll need to be much more dramatic.”

”Hunk!!!”

Hunk sighs again. ”Fine. But you owe me.”

”Yes, sure, I'll buy you your own lion, just please come help me.”

”I'll be there in a few.” Hunk replied, and then he promptly ended the call.

Lance let out a sigh of relief and quickly dawned his robe again, tying it tightly around his bare body. He then continued pacing until he heard a loud knock at the door.

Lance jumped and took off towards the door to answer it so fast that he almost tripped over a chair leg and ended up stumbling towards Hunk as soon as he flung open the door. Without a second to spare though, he collected himself quickly and yanked him inside, ignoring Hunk’s surprised squeak as they baraled through the threshold.

Panting, Lance pressed his back up against the shut doors, eyes wide and before either of them knew what was happening Lance was yelling.

“Hunk, I got super drunk last night at the spa and went wading in the pools, but then Kethek found me and was all made that I snuck out and took me back to my room and came in with me to make sure that I didn’t pull any more shit because I was quiznacking drunk out of my mind, and so, being drunk out of my mind, I thought it was completely fine and dandy to disrobe in front of him so I just casually got bare assed while getting ready for bed and he got all embarrassed and for whatever reason I thought it was a good opportunity to tease him a bit about it so I flirted with him while my dick was out and then blacked out and now I’ve got to be with him all day and oh my god, I have no idea what to do or how I can bring back the strict professionalism I had maintained with him so that he wouldn’t feel comfortable getting up in my business but now I’ve given him every opportunity to do just that and I have no quiznacking idea what to do!!!”

Hunk blinked at Lance wildly, his eyes wide.

”I'm sorry, what did you just say?!” He asked incredulously. ”You flirted with your guard while you were drunk and naked??”

And then Hunk was laughing. Wheezing and actually tearing up as he bellowed out a loud, boisterous laugh.

”Kethek? The guy you whined to me about for an hour telling me how much you hated him?” Hunk laughed harder and Lance flushed beet red.

”Hunk, I'm serious!! This is a crisis!! Don't laugh at me!!”

”What the hell did you even say to him?!” Hunk laughed, calming down the quick heaving breaths he let out just enough so he could get the question out before he was wheezing with laughter again.

Lance blushed harder.

”I may have probably, accidently told him that I liked the idea of him checking me out and that I really wanted to do the same to him. The term ’eye candy’ may have also found its way into the conversation somehow and I may or may not have insinuated that I wanted to see him without his armour on.”

Hunk was laughing so hard it looked like he would collapse.

”Oh my god it makes so much sense now!” He cried.

Lance scowled at him. ”What?”

”You! Never shutting up about him! It's because you think he's hot! Oh my god and you got so drunk that you fucking-” Hunk’s laughing grew even louder. ”You fucking just straight up told him!!”

”I do not think he's hot!!” Lance said blushing furiously.

”Oh come ON Lance, you and I both know it's impossible for you to lie when under the influence of nunvil. Especially with how much you had, holy shit.”

”No!” Lance protected, his voice far higher than he would have ever preferred it to be. ”I hate him! He is at the epicenter of everything that is wrong with my life right now! He's so fucking irritating and he treads around me like I'm made of quiznacking glass and he’s like kinda really scary and he's never not up my ass about something! He's Allura’s little puppet and just no! I can't stand him!”

”Ok,” Hunk said, still grinning, ”maybe that's true, I don't doubt it, but just because you hate someone doesn't mean that you can't think that they're hot. Or in your case, want him to not metaphorically be up your ass-”

”Hunk!!!”

Hunk just simply laughed again, squeezing his eyes shut as he wipes tears out of them, catching his breath in long happy sighs. ”This is SO much better than fixing a shower head.” He mused. ”What the hell was that about anyways?”

Lance blushed again. ”I think Kethek can listen to my calls, I didn't want him to be suspicious.”

”I can't believe I almost didn't come up!” Hunk spoke again, seeming to have listened to Lance’s response with only half an ear as he marveled.

”Seriously Hunk,” Lance said, now looking a little desperate as he sank into a chair. ”What do I do?”

”Why do you care so much?” Hunk asked. ”You've never been shy about this stuff. You'll go up to a person you've met 6 minutes ago and tell them that you think they're hot without batting an eye. And come on I can’t even count all the times that I’ve seen you bare assed, you’re not shy about your body, everyone knows that, so what’s the big deal? Why is this any different?”

”Because Kethek isn’t just any other person! He’s my guard! He’s ordered to be with me at all times. I’ve been trying very hard to get him to leave me alone so I can try and not feel like my life is a disaster and I really don’t need him for my own safety even though I know that I do. He’s not some stranger, and he’s not my friend, he’s proof of how fucked I am. He’s everything I don’t want to confront, and now to him I’m not going to look strong and independent anymore.”

“I was more drunk than any normal, happy person would ever want to be while alone in the middle of the goddamn night and now he’s seen me vulnerable! He’s seen me at my lowest and god I just wasn’t even thinking! I just set myself up for this to happen because I’m so quiznacking terrified and I wanted to get away from it so badly that I did something stupid and he had to clean it up. Because I’m his responsibility! He’s been trained to be prepared to die in the effort of protecting me, Hunk. Die. And now I’ve gone and let him see me like that, a drunken mess that he has to keep under control. I don’t want him thinking I can’t protect myself, I don't want anyone responsible for me, I don’t want anyone to die protecting me but that’s his job! And I hate it!”

”He’s responsible for me and I’m too much of a mess to even make it so that he could feel like he didn’t have such a big job on his hands, that I was strong enough to be safe without him. But I don’t even think that’s true anymore. You know what he said Hunk? He straight up told me, straight faced, that I would probably be killed because of a stab wound. He told me that I was helpless to defend myself against an attack because they were learning my strengths with every attempt to end my life and would eventually know me enough to hit me where I’m weakest. Up close and personal. What a bitch right?! He said I was helpless alone but that he would help me. That he would make sure I could protect myself no matter where they chose to strike. And god damnit I really don’t want to rely on him but what other shot at surviving this mess do I have?”

”I don't want his help but I need his help. I know that. The situation is already so complicated, and I just made it even more complicated. I made myself vulnerable. I showed him how weak I am. And that is an embarrassment that’s barely worth living with. Everything is so messed up I may as well just let the Galra get rid of me. It would save everyone a large amount of trouble.”

Hunk wasn’t laughing any more. He stared at Lance wide eyed while he avoided Hunk’s now very concerned gaze. ”Lance.” He said, his voice almost stern. ”You know that’s not true. You’re the blue paladin… you know how important that is. How special and rare it is for someone to be chosen by a lion. You can’t possibly think-”

”It doesn’t matter Hunk!” Lance said, raking his fingers through his hair. I don’t need the semantics. “I can’t even fly Blue right now because of all this shit. I’m trapped in the castle, completely helpless and dependent on everyone. I’m absolutely useless right now. It’s horrible, Hunk, and I can't believe, knowing all that, that I let myself be seen so vulnerable and stupid by the one person who needs to see me as someone who’s strong.”

”You are strong Lance. You don’t realize that? Maybe you don’t know hand to hand combat yet but that’s a specialty. You’re so skilled in so many other areas. You are needed. Whether you think you are or not, dude. And to be quite honest? You’re royalty. That means you will always have a responsibility to the Altean people as well as to yourself whether you like it or not”

Lance nodded, knowing Hunk was right but not having the words to articulate his agreement, as he still wasn’t even sure he could consider it complete agreement.

”Honestly, dude, Kethek probably hasn’t even thought that much about last night.”

Lance gave Hunk a deadpan stare. ”You didn’t see how flustered he was, Hunk. The guy looked like he was about to combust. And not to brag or anything, but there isn’t one person who looks at this body and doesn’t think about it for a significant amount of time.”

Hunk chuckled, rolling his eyes. That was the Lance he knew.

”I mean about what you said to him. How you appeared, emotionally. He probably didn’t think as much of it as you are now. All you can really do is prove to him, whether he’s thought about it or not, that you can handle yourself. That despite everything you’re still you. Prince of Altea and pilot of a lion of Voltron. Those things are enough to earn you all the respect you need from most people. And if you’re still uneasy about all this, maybe ask if you can start your hand to hand training with him.”

“Allura said she would give the word on when she would let us start. Obviously she’s said nothing about it recently and I think it’s just because she still doesn’t trust him and is procrastinating.”

“Then confront her about it.” Hunk supplied. “I think getting to be more proficient in hand to hand will really help you out. Restore some missing confidence. That way you won’t feel so helpless. And by the time you're done training, you’ll be fucking invincible man. Plus, I’ve heard rumors around the castle that this guard of yours is like one of the Blade’s best swordsmen. And that’s saying something considering that they literally call themselves the Blade.”

“Get this,” Hunk continued excitedly. “He fights proficiently with both hands!! Like he’s completely ambidextrous and can use two swords at once or like switch hands in battle and stuff. Oh and I heard that he took down commander Elock’s fleet HIMSELF. With maybe like two other people but STILL. Remember when all his ships randomly flew into that star? Apparently that was him, and all the crew was dead before they even exploded. They just flew it into the star after so that they could get the intel the ship had and then erase the evidence that they had been there.”

“Great.” Lance said unenthusiastically, “So he’s good at killing people, guess that’s good for me with the assassins and all.”

“It’s very good for you.” Hunk said confidently. “Not to mention you’ll be learning hand to hand from a veritable close combat god. I think you're pretty damn safe, buddy. Don’t you worry about it. You aren’t burdening anyone. Your guard has clearly been in much more dangerous situations. Try to remember all the reasons you have to hold your head high and be proud. Your confidence is valid, you’re an incredibly important figure in this war and whether or not you see it right now, you can not let one drunken night change how you see yourself, not will it change how your guard sees you. I’m sure he understands. What you're going through is crazy dude, but you’re still strong as hell for it. Probably even more than you already were. Just go out there today, do your job well, and I promise, it will be like nothing's changed. Because nothing has changed. You’re still you, and Anyone, no matter the circumstances, would have to be blind not to see it.”

Hunk put a big comforting hand on Lance’s nimble shoulder and smiled, shaking him slightly. “You’re going to be ok, Lance.”

Lance looked down at his hands and smiled, a little sheepishly, which was a very rare expression for him to give.

“Thank you Hunk.” He said softly, resting his head on his shoulder. “Do me a favor though, big guy, and hide all the nunvil in the kitchens from me, ok?”

“You got it buddy.” He smiled. “And speaking of the kitchens, my shift is starting soon. I should get back.” Lance nodded as Hunk stood up. Heading towards the door, he turned to give Lance one last smile before he was gone, the door clicking tightly behind him.

Lance sighed, feeling the bareness of his skin much more palpably under his silky robe and shook his head. He actually did need a shower now.

Hunk was right, he knew that, it was just a lot to take right now for him. He would take his advice though. Just go through the day as though last night hadn’t happened. Maybe Kethek really hadn’t thought much about it. Maybe it really would change nothing.

One thing was for sure however, he was not going to stand by and wait for himself to be killed any longer. He wasn’t happy to have to call himself inadequate in any fights that were hand to hand. Today, he would have Kethek start to train him. His meetings could be postponed for “safety matters.” To Lance, it had become abundantly clear that this was what needed to happen. This needed to be top priority. It could help distract them both from the events of last night.

Decided, he got ready and in record time, finding Kethek to be waiting outside his door promptly as Lance left for the day. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat upon seeing him and tried to ignore Kethek but found himself sneaking a glance anyways. His eyes were respectfully staring ahead while he stood at attention, not looking at him as Lance swept out elegantly and pushed forward.

As usual, they didn’t speak, and Lance ignored the Galran with the best of his ability, though this time the reason he kept himself a few paces in front of Kethek was more to hide the redness of his face from the guard than it was for anything else.

It continued like this until Kethek noticed that they had walked right past the hall they should have turned down and spoke up for fear that the prince had made a mistake and missed it.

“Your majesty, the meeting, if I am not mistaken, is in the left wing of the castle down this way.”

“We are not going to the meeting.” The prince replied. “We are going to meet with my sister to tell her that I have canceled all of my appointments for today, and that you and I will be starting my hand to hand training immediately.”

Kethek was behind Lance, and Lance was not making an effort to turn and look at him while he talked, so he wasn't able to see his guards expression when it broke from an emotionless glare into one of complete confusion.

“The queen told me herself that she did not want us to train together yet.” He replied.

“Did she give you an estimate of when exactly she wanted us to start?” Lance asked, knowing the answer already.

“No, your highness. She did not.”

“The summer festival begins at the end of the movement, does it not?”

“Yes, your highness, roughly thirty four Quintants from now.”

“Right.” Lance said. “So how likely is it for me to learn the absolute bare minimum necessary that if needed, I could defend myself against an attack?”

“Well, in all honesty, I would have preferred to have started the day I arrived. With the short time we have, it’s unlikely that you will be able to fully grasp anything other than the simplest of the basics. Especially if you are coming into it with no experience. However, the queen had specific instructions to hold off the training.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yes, and that was an incredibly stupid decision that I have no intention of complying with. I want to be as prepared as I can be given our limits, so today, we’re going to start training, and we are on our way to inform her now.”

“What if she says no?” Kethek asked, and Lance finally turned around, sparing him a look with those insanely blue eyes of his.

“I’m not asking her permission.” He replied, his face looking almost bored before he turned back around, never pausing on his pursuit towards the queen.

And Kethek followed, albeit a little more reluctantly now that he knew the prince's plan.

He had thought at first that following the royals orders would be simple. That the queen and the prince would be a unit, they would have the same goals and orders for him to go along with. Now that he was here though, he was realizing how wrong that really was being that they seemed to constantly be at odds.

Did he listen to the queen? The supreme power of Altea? The person he most needed approval with? Or did he listen to the prince? A man with an almost equal amount of power as the queen herself because of his status as the blue lion, and the person he had sworn he would protect at any cost, no matter who or what came in his way. A person who was so difficult to work with because of his need for independence, and was so stubborn that any time Kethek found the opportunity to gain a level of compliance or trust with him, he jumped at it simply because it was so rare of an opportunity.

He needed both of them to know that he was on their side. He needed both of them to trust him and work with him. But he couldn't do that when the two of them were in disagreement with each other, forcing Kethek to have to choose one over the other. It was agonizing and he really was trying his best to make it work, but his efforts seem to fall flat every time.

And now, yet again, he was faced with the same issue. More often than not, Kethek tended to agree with the prince's stance on the various different debates that had come up, not the queen. This was another one of those circumstances. The question still remained as to how long would he be able to go about appearing to only side with the prince?

They were his own opinions regardless of the prince, yes, but with how much prejudice was on his shoulders, Kethek didn't feel that it would matter. Especially not to the queen. He agreed with the prince most of the time, and he knew that, to her, she would think that Kethek siding was with him even if he really wasn't.

It drove Kethek mad, and it took every bit of self control he could muster to not punch a wall whenever another one of these dilemmas presented itself to him. There was no fucking way to win! And if this job wasn't so fucking important, he wouldn't give a damn. He would be able to do whatever the hell he wanted without issue and leave it at that. But it wasn't so simple anymore. This job was more important than himself and his opinions, so unfortunately, he had no choice but to comply and advise if the situation ever called for him to do so. But god if it didn't make him furious.

And to make matters worse, a new problem he hadn’t anticipated was adding insult to injury because now, every goddamn time he has to look into the prince's eyes his stomach flips inside out and he's forced to re imagine that drunken lustful smile and the tanned perfection of the princes completely bare body slinking towards him, still damp from the spa’s humidity.

It was unprofessional to say the least, but that, believe it or not wasn't the worst of the aftereffects that night. He was having god damn dreams now. Dreams of the Crown Prince of Altea, the Blue paladin of Voltron, his fucking boss, doing more to him than what he had let progress that night when he had wrapped him up in that blanket and basically turned to run for his life out the door.

This job was supposed to have been simple. Go in, keep the prince alive, end the assassinations if possible, and then move onto the next mission. Nowhere on the ajenda did it say for him to be thrust into every uncomfortable situation imaginable and accidentally become attracted to the person you should only think of protecting at all times. And Kethek didn’t ever just randomly find someone attractive. His standards, even for a casual interest, were never met. And sure maybe the prince's personality was much more miss than hit, but that didn't seem to make a difference considering the fact that he had woken up unbelievably flustered this morning, his heart beating rapidly beneath his chest.

But it was just…. something about him that Kethek couldn’t pull away from, even if he tried. He was annoying and far too outgoing for Kethek’s taste, but for whatever reason, that wasn’t enough to turn him away.

And the prince seemed as though he didn’t remember any of it happening now. He was his usual self and didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all. Maybe he didn’t remember? Maybe all the nunvil had actually caused him to forget? Maybe that was a good thing?

All of this pushed through Kethek’s head in a fast rush of emotions that came about from simply looking into the prince’s eyes again before he quickly tried to do damage control and shove every last thought he had regarding anything other than the prince's safety into the deepest recesses of his brain.

Lance, as he had been trying very hard to keep his eyes forward, hadn’t the slightest idea of the severity of Kethek’s inner turmoil. His main focus was on composing himself as much as possible so that Allura’s little intimidation strategies wouldn't work on him.

By the time they finally made it to her, it took approximately 2.7 tics for Lance to realize that it would be very difficult with how quickly she managed to snap.

At the first sight of him she stopped everything she was doing to give the prince her absolute, and scarily unwavering attention.

“Lance? What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be in a meeting right now! At this rate you’re already 7 doboshes late! That kind of tardiness is unacceptable for the queen of Aminor, you KNOW this!! Why in the-“

“I’ve called in sick, Allura, I’ve already sent Coran with a member of our court to talk with her. I have also made arrangements for the rest of my tasks today to be covered similarly.”

The queens brow furrowed. “Why?” She asked. “You’re obviously not sick.”

“No,” Lance agreed. “Which is why I’ve come to inform you that I will be starting my hand to hand training with Kethek today.”

Alluras face twisted then, so violently, that her angry expression almost looked painful.

“I believe I gave you a very clear idea of my desire to not proceed with training yet, Lance.” She replied, her jaw clenched.

“Yes, I'm ignoring it.” Lance replied. “As you have reiterated to me so often, I am in serious danger. Postponing my training is lessening my odds of survival in all this, and so, because you keep postponing it, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands, starting today. If you have any qualms with it, then you can speak to me when I am finished today.”

“No, I am speaking to you NOW, Lance.” She said, her teeth nearly grinding with her words. “You may be my brother and the prince, but I still deserve your respect!”

“Just as I deserve yours!” He shoots back.

“You can not start your training Lance, I will not allow it.”

“Allura, my training will help keep me alive! Why the hell would you ever be against that?!”

The queen huffed and crossed her arms tightly, turning away.

“I will not discuss this in… his presence.” She said, not even needing to gesture to Kethek for the both of them to know that’s who she was referring to. The prince let out an annoyed suffering sigh.

“Kethek,” he said, turning to look behind him at the guard. “Please make your way to the training deck, I will meet you there.” He spoke this loudly, emphasizing the words training deck in a way that made Kethek believe the words were more for the queen than they were for him.

“If I am to leave you, You will not have someone to escort you there, my prince.” Kethek replied.

“Then recruit three Altean guards to the task.” Lance replied. “I have no issue with your presence at the moment, but clearly I need to discuss some irrationalities that the queen is contemplating in more depth, and I must respect her wish for complete privacy.”

None of what the prince was saying sounded genuine at all. They were just words he was using to twist into secret, yet obvious jabs at his sister. It was clear to all of them and the queen was growing angrier by the second because of it. So Kethek backed down.

He bowed to them both, deeply. “I will respect your wishes.”

He did not respect the queen's wishes. The room was littered with guards and other Alteans in general. There were a significant number of people who could potentially overhear their discussions so the conversation would not be private in any way. The only person Allura didn’t want there was Kethek, and honestly, he expected as much, so it really irritated him when it still stung.

Straightening back up, he looked to the outskirts of the room where guards were posted at and in between every entrance. On his way out, he spoke to three of them briefly before he left.

“All of you please take the prince to the training deck when they are done. And if there are any changes in the plan, please notify me.”

The guards didn’t look him in the eye, but did nod curtly. At least he had gotten something. It was made very clear very quickly that the Altean guards would not have listened to him or been civil with him in any way had Allura not confirmed him as Lance’s guard, and thereby placed him as the highest ranking guard. They dealt with him simply because they were ordered to by rank. Nothing more.

However, biases aside, Kethek has no hesitations in making sure that they remembered who’s orders they had to follow, and spoke again.

“Excuse me, officers, but I require verbal confirmation that you understand my orders.”

The Alteans looked to only grow angrier, but did eventually grit out an irritated “yes sir.” This was good enough for Kethek, and finally he left the room, leaving the prince with the queen.

As soon as the doors shut, Allura almost immediately looked far less like she would explode, and calmed her features significantly.

The prince on the other hand was not relieved of his tension and anger as quickly.

“What the hell Allura?!” He said loudly, throwing his arms out. “You are making no quiznacking sense right now, you realize that, right?!”

“I don’t need to make sense Lance! When we are together, I don’t need to make any sense at all! It is your JOB, your duty to respect me!”

“Not when you make stupid decisions!” He said. “When you were coronated you appointed me as a co- ruler of our kingdom to, and I quote, “ensure that the safety of our kingdom in these troubled times has as much strong leadership as can be offered. To keep each other focused and help each other to make the most beneficial steps towards freedom.” It is my job, Allura, to tell you when you are being stupid. So that’s what I’m doing.”

“Now when I ask you this next question I expect nothing less than the truth. Why do you not want me to train?”

“Because it’s dangerous Lance! Can’t you see that?”

“How is self defense training more dangerous than a threat to my life from the Galra?!”

“Because the very person who you will train with is a part of the same race that wants you dead! I do not trust him Lance!”

“You don’t trust him?! What reason has he given you not to trust him other than his race?”

“That is all the reason I need not to trust him! The galra destroy, Lance. They KILLED mother and father! They tear families and cultures apart. They have no regard for innocent life!”

“I know that Allura! Don’t you think I know just as well as you? Do you think I haven’t felt the same pain you have?! That I haven’t wanted vengeance for the family we have lost? The freedom they have ripped away from us? From the universe? From me? But you are blinded and foolish enough if you believe that all Galra share that cruelty. There is substantial evidence that there are Galra who stand against Zarkon. Galra who have been integral in many of the major shifts in this war.”

“I was hesitant in my trust at first as well. Anyone would be, but there is enough evidence that I have now to believe that I am not in danger because of my guard. He is key in my survival. He knows what I need to know if I am to survive, and if you keep holding me back, one day it could be too late.”

Allura was crying now, looking weak and defeated as she stared up at her brother's angry face.

“Lance… she whispered. I… I can’t lose you too. I would never recover if I lost you. I’m doing this because I love you…. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because any form of love that comes by way of hate is flawed in my eyes. Now, I’m going to leave, I’m going to start my training, and I’m going to put my life into my own hands. If I die, I’d rather it be that I was trusting, rather than hateful and suspicious. So please excuse me.”

The request for his excusal wasn’t actually a request more than it was a statement of him excusing himself, but Allura didn’t stop him on his way out nonetheless. And Lance didn’t look back at her. Partly because he couldn’t bring himself to look at her crying any more, and partly because he was too angry to care. He and the three Altean guards instructed to escort him left without another word.

___

The prince entered the deck through the locker rooms, changing into his blue paladin armor once inside, ridding himself of any delicate fabric and jewelry. He considered wearing a simpler training uniform, but he had a small suspicion that his guard would not be one to take it easy on him. So he put on the paladin armor and finally readied himself to exit the locker room and head out to the deck when he was stopped in his tracks by a fast blur of black and purple. Kethek was already training by himself.

Partly because Kethek running past had stunned him and partly because he was curious, Lance hung back to quietly observe without the guard knowing. Within seconds of watching him Lance felt like the air was punched out of him.

Drone after drone went after him, wielding swords of their own and Kethek took them out with such skill and ease that it rendered Lance speechless. The drones would charge, seeming like there was no way Kethek would be able to manage a way out and then, almost viciously, Kethek always managed to escape barely unscathed, muscles tight as he chopped drones in half and sent them flying across the room.

Kethek launched himself off of walls to get higher ground. He ran with incredible speed and avoided shots and jabs with a mind numbing agility. He used his every strength to his advantage and used his opponents weaknesses against them so many consecutive times, Lance had to wonder if it was even difficult for him at all.

It, frankly, was not only eye opening, but incredibly awe inspiring. Lance got to see first hand why his guard held the titles that he did. Even saying it was well deserved felt like an understatement.

Lance watched Kethek some more, eyes wide as they trained on his every movement until he realized that he was being kind of a creep. Upon realizing exactly how long he had just stood there staring, he steeled himself and reverted back to his ”responsible, scrutinizing prince persona and stepped into the room, trying to look bored as he cleared his throat.

Kethek stopped the program the instant he heard Lance enter, turning around almost looking sheepish for half of a second before turning around fully and making his face neutral again.

“I guess I get why they say you’re the best now.” Lance said, trying to be casual. “You're kind of terrifying actually. You certainly know what you're doing.”

Kethek may or may not have blushed, Lance couldn’t tell if the heat shown on his face was from his workout or because Lance had given him a compliment. Catching his breath, he wiped the sweat off his brow with his arm. “That’s why I’m here, your highness.” He said. “It’s my duty to protect you in any way I can. That includes self defense. But in order for this to work, you have to-“

“Cooperate and listen to you blah blah blah.” Lance retorted making a mouth with his fingers, opening and closing them with each of his words. “You don’t have to give me the entire briefing dude, I’ve heard it all like 7 times.”

“Ok.” Kethek sighed, finally getting his heart rate back under control.

“Then if you’re ready, we will start. Firstly I need to assess your strengths. Give me an overview of what exactly it is you can do. What you are good at.”

“Cool.” Lance said easily, rolling his neck as he sauntered out into the middle of the deck.

“Ok computer,” he called out. “Let’s do an abridged version of my target practice program alright?”

The room responded by bringing up various targets around the room. Then there was the sound of a timer. It beeped three times in countdown to the start of the session. The moving obstacles that Lance was tasked to avoid while he had to try and hit the proper targets came to life. Targets started to light up quickly as obstacles began falling, flying, and charging at the prince from all different directions.

Lance smiled, knowing he had this in the bag and sprang into action.

After last night, Kethek was not surprised to see that he was able to hit every target dead center in perfect time. What was also curious to see was how he could manipulate his Bayard at will to his needs. A rifle, then a pistol, then a sniper rifle for objects that were really far away. He was able to change between numerous guns smoothly and avoid the obstacles that came his way. He was able to become very focused. Not just on the target but on the surrounding environment.

This was a difficult program. Expert level at the very least. One that Kethek was sure he would struggle a bit more with if he had tried to do it. Lance was quick, sharp eyed and well practiced. He knew this form of combat well. He’d even hit a target while lunging into the air. His aim was impeccable. He never missed and his shots were always perfectly on mark.

The program finished, and Lance smirked, obviously pleased with himself. “Not a personal best, but I’d say I did ok on that, huh?” He asked Kethek who was standing at the outside of the deck with his arms crossed and a contemplative scowl on his face.

Then he nodded, coming to meet the prince in the middle of the room.

“How does your bayard work… Can it summon any weapon?”

“Well, yeah, I assume so. My ability only goes so far though. I had to train thoroughly just to be able to change it to the various guns I have. From my experience, you have to have either a dire need or a very clear level of skill with a particular weapon in order for the bayard to be able to form it for you. The more combat styles you have mastered in general, the more you can manipulate it. I’m only mastered in various forms of long range combat, so I can call several long range weapons.”

“So you can’t turn it into a sword or blade until you’ve mastered hand to hand.” Kethek said.

“That’s what I’m guessing. I don’t exactly have any frame of reference for this stuff.” My father and Zarkon are the only ones before me who had a connection with a lion and they could transform their bayard into a whole bunch of stuff. I assume that’s because they knew how to do a whole bunch of stuff well already.”

Kethek nodded. “Ok.” He said. “Then we’ll use your bayard as a goal. I’ll train you in hand to hand and if you are able to get a good enough grasp on it, you should be able to turn your bayard into a sword before the festival.”

“For now though, you’re going to be using this.” He pressed a button on his arm and the floor of the deck opened up for a wall to come through. On it, hung several different types of blades ranging widely in size and length and shape. Kethek removed one that looked pretty standard, with a straight silver blade and black handle. He handed it to Lance.

It was much heavier than he had expected it to be and Lance was about to play it off like it was nothing when Kethek seemed to read his mind and said “it’s heavy because it’s a training blade. It helps strengthen your wrists and forces you to go a bit slower when starting off. It’s also blunt, so it won’t cut through anything.”

“Aw.” Lance pouted.

“Now,” Kethek began, ignoring him, “sword combat, if you’re doing it right, is an equally offensive and defensive form of combat. A push and pull between you and your opponent. It is both you and your opponents goal to fight until one of you finds a weakness to exploit.”

“The first skills I will be teaching you are defensive, therefore if you come in contact with anyone before our deadline or take longer to grasp the concepts, at the very least, you’ll know how to defend yourself. I have to emphasize though that it is important to be able to know how to fight back. Once you are versed enough in it, your offense can become enough of a defense in and of itself. In fact it’s safer that way. You can’t allow your opponent any opportunities, and a consistently offensive tactic is the best way to do that. But you need to know both.”

“A blade is not a weapon to hesitate with. It requires immediate action and fast paced thinking but also a clear head and an awareness of the space around you. Resourcefulness and unpredictability are key in winning over your opponent. Using anything you can to your advantage while also never doing the same thing twice. Adding to that, with a sword, unlike a gun or a rifle, where you aim doesn't matter as much as how you aim it. With the right technique, you will hit your target.”

“Where your strengths in long range combat benefit you, they will be your weakness with a blade. Do not attempt to relate the two at all or you will use strategies you think can help you as a crutch and it will get you killed. With a gun your focus is largely on your target. Your surroundings are thought of second to where it is you are aiming. With hand to hand, this should be the opposite. You are fighting in close range to others and that proximity is what requires your attention to be aware of where you are at all times first before you think about what techniques can get you out of a tough spot. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Lance replied, swallowing down a sudden onslaught of nerves and scowling seriously.

“Good, then we can start. We’ll keep it simple at first. Follow your gut and learn what you can from your failures. Come up with a list of what you should and shouldn't do in your head and try to stick to it.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Lance replied.

And then they were off. Kethek, surprisingly enough, went easier on Lance than he had expected. Taking his time to teach him the right way to hold the blade. The proper stance to have, where to bare your weight and place your feet. He had him doing step sequences that would help keep his stance in check and gave him time to adjust and truly feel comfortable with such an intimidating weapon in his hand.

Kethek was almost… gentle… with him. Caring and slow… he moved his hands with his to show him how to hold the base, adjusted his legs and arms with gentle pushes against his limbs. He was respectful and delicate with him.

And then he wasn’t.

As soon as Lance voiced that he felt he was getting the hang of it, Kethek threw him down to the ground with what was essentially a flick of his wrist.

He held his blade in Lance’s direction and frowned as Lance looked up at him incredulously.

“Anticipate, my prince.” He said sternly. “You’re focusing too much on yourself that you aren’t paying attention to all potential threats around you.”

“You’re not supposed to be a potential threat!” Lance shouted back, frustrated.

“In training, I am as much a threat to you as an assassin. You must always have your guard up. You must always be ready to defend yourself. One moment of weakness could be your downfall.”

Lance huffed, getting back up to his feet. “That sounds pretty miserable.” Lance said. “Is that why you like… always have a stick up your ass? Because you force yourself to think of everything as threatening?”

Kethek’s entire body froze up on the spot, the prince’s words striking a chord within him that he hadn’t even been entirely aware he had.

“My own personal behaviors are not your concern, your highness.” He gritted out, a bit more defensively than he had intended.

“I know, I know.” The prince sighed. Holding up his hands in surrender. “Just thinking out loud.”

“That will get you killed too.” Keithek retorted, earning an eye roll from the prince.

“You’re killing me.” He muttered. And Kethek had to do everything he could not to continue this petty little fight of theirs.

“Let’s just continue, ok?” He said instead, and the prince nodded, readying himself into the stance that Kethek had taught him.

By the end of the day, Lance had grasped a lot more of the basics than Kethek had first expected him too. He was in a position where Kethek felt confident he could progress quickly enough to be ready for the festival, and called the session to an end with higher hopes than what he’d started with.

The days ticked off and the training went on, but perhaps what was most surprising was the lack of the queens interference. Kethek hadn't even seen her since her and Lance’s last spat. Lance chalked it up to her “still needing to cool off” when Kethek asked him about it, but Kethek wasn’t sure if it was so simple. With how mistrustful she was of him, he had thought she would plant herself on the training deck and watch them the entire time with half her guard at the ready incase he tried anything, but they were always left to themselves during training.

The prince was entirely unconcerned however, seeming to be much more focused on his drills than anything else. He was surprisingly focused and disciplined. More than Kethek expected him to be. He was progressing fast and Kethek was begrudgingly impressed.

Slowly, Kethek was learning more about the prince and was pleased to find that there were several qualities in him that Kethek didn’t find downright irritating. He could be a decent guy when he really wanted to be. And though admitting it to even himself wasn’t something he would ever do.

Training with Lance was particularly easy on the eyes. When he got all sweaty, or took off his shirt after training to cool off… or when he-

“Kethek!” The prince was saying loudly, waving a bronze hand in front of Lance’s face. “Where’d you go man?”

Kethek snapped out of his reverie and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.” Kethek said, calling up the weapon rack from the floor and hanging his sword. You have meetings all day tomorrow, you’ll need your rest.”

“Aw hey but I’ve still got a lot of juice left in me, I can keep going!”

“Well then let’s call it a night for my sake ok? I’ve gotta get some sleep too.”

Lance frowned, but hung up his sword beside Kethek compliantly.

The walk back to Lances room was quiet, as it usually was, but more recently, it had become a somewhat more comfortable silence. The tension that was always present between them felt different now. Less sharp.

And then, unexpectedly, Lance spoke up.

“You know you don’t… you don’t have to be guarded here. I mean, at least not around me.”

Kethek scowled at him curiously. “Being guarded is a part of my job, your highness.”

Lance’s face immediately went sour. “Yeah, right, sure, whatever, I get it, forget I mentioned it.” He said quickly.

And that made Kethek slow down a bit. Had... Lance been trying to tell him he could trust him? Had he been trying to say that he cared?

He trailed next to the prince for a bit longer before deciding to respond.

“You were right.” Kethek said. “When you said the reason I act so… well, like myself is because I’m mistrustful. I never let my guard down because I can’t afford to be vulnerable.”

Lance looked at him curiously. A little sadly even. But Kethek went on.

“Most of my life was spent around people I opposed. I had to forge relationships with my enemies. I lived every day blending in where I knew I didn’t belong. Acting as though I held the same cruel beliefs that the majority of my people subscribed to. So yes, to me, anything, familiar or unfamiliar, is threatening. Being overly trusting can get you killed much faster than caution will.

“Sure.” Lance replied. “Caution is great, but not letting anyone get close to you sounds awfully lonely.”

“It is.” Kethek agreed. “But I’m good at it. And it’s better than being dead. We can’t afford to lose more people in this war or we’ll never win. You and I, especially you, we have the skill to fight and the power to win. Your influence could move countless people into action to take down the Galra. That is why I’m insistent with your safety. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I don’t trust anyone. Because we can’t afford to lose this war, and we absolutely can’t afford to lose you.”

And when Kethek looked to Lance again, his cheeks were pink. If Kethek didn’t know better, he’d assume he was actively blushing and not just flushed from training.

“I’ll admit,” Lance said after a while of continuing down the hall in more silence, “I was a bit critical of you for the same reasons as my sister when you first arrived, but I’m seeing a lot more clearly now that you really care about all this. I’m sorry that it took me so long. And I’m sorry my sister and my people treat you with such disrespect.”

Kethek hadn’t expected that. Lance had never struck him as someone who would apologize and admit to their own mistake, but yet again, Lance was surprising him.

“Like I said,” Kethek replied, “caution is necessary in times of war. If I am the source of it for your people, there isn’t much I can do other than show my loyalty through everything I do. Trust is earned, I know this, so I’ll do my best to earn it.”

“And if someone tries to earn your trust? Wouldn’t you respect their effort enough, knowing how it feels to be on both sides, and accept them as someone you can confide in?”

“Nobody’s gotten that far, your highness.” Kethek replied as they approached Lances door. “And in my experience, it was because nobody wanted to anyways. But enough about this, you need to get to bed. I’ll be here in the morning to escort you-“

“I know you will.” Lance sighed, cutting him off. “Goodnight Kethek.”

Kethek nodded back in response, watching as the prince scanned his hand and then disappeared behind the door, reveling quietly at the realization that Lance had never bothered to bid him goodnight until now. He had never apologized or asked about Kethek’s opinions before, either.

Kethek wasn’t entirely sure what had changed, but for some reason, he was suddenly desperate to make sure that these changes didn’t dwindle away. Whatever was happening, regardless of why, Lance was opening up to him, and that pleased Kethek a lot more than he realized it would.

Chapter Text

So maybe Hunk was right. So maybe Hunk was always fucking right. Maybe Kethek was hot as hell and maybe Lance was the teeniest bit completely and hopelessly attracted to him. So what? That meant nothing! Had he woken up feeling hot and heavy for several days in a row now? Perhaps. Was it because he had dreamed of jumping Kethek’s bones? Perhaps… Did that mean it was a big deal? Hell no! He was still the most annoying and oppressive person in the universe. But even annoying people could be hot, and Lance simply appreciated hotness in all its forms! It wasn’t his fault!

Every day they trained relentlessly and it took more effort than he would have liked to calm the frantic beating of his heart. He would like to say that it was due to all his physical exertion, but it wasn't. Not at all.

Lance had good stamina. It took him a while to get winded, and yet, training with Kethek was enough to knock the breath right out of him every time. It usually wasn’t due to the actual work out so much as it was due to Kethek’s pretty face. But in any case, it was worth the struggle because Lance was improving tremendously in hand to hand.

He thought with a mixture of amusement and fear at what Allura would do to him if she knew of the thoughts bumping around in his brain right now. It would surely end badly, that much he was sure of, but he really just couldn’t help it. At this very moment Kethek was tackling him to the ground and really he couldn’t be more ok with it because now his face, all sweaty and glistening, was inches from his, deep eyes lit with an angry fire as he held a blade above his throat. Lance kinda loved it.

“If I may be frank, your highness, this is getting ridiculous” Kethek frowned. “Are you aware that you’re completely distracted?”

“Whatever do you mean??” Lance asked in mock innocence, letting the smile on his face grow larger.

Kethek huffed, standing up sharply over him with a scowl. “We’re running out of time, your highness. You can’t afford to be distracted. You're not even trying.”

He held out a hand to help Lance up and he took it firmly, letting Kethek pull him to his feet.

“Am too.” Lance huffed, brushing invisible dirt off his armor. “I’m just… tired? Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Well maybe we need to take a break then” Kethek replied. “There is no point in continuing if you won’t give a genuine effort.”

Lance perked up again at that. “Oh, hey, if we’re taking a break, my buddy Hunk said he was making my favorite dish today! We should go see him and get lunch!” Lance said, his blue eyes shining.

“Hunk?” Kethek asked, sounding unimpressed by the name but remembering very well the Altean man that had made Lance laugh so beautifully that night in the blue lions hanger.

“Yeah, he’s one of the cooks. The best cook if you ask me. Have you ever had Arusian daac, Kethek?”

Kethek shook his head no and Lance groaned in sympathy. “Alright that settles it. Make your sword a knife and let’s go.”

“Highness,” Kethek protested, “We really don’t have time. When I said a break I meant a drink of water not-”

“Oh shush,” Lance said, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the door. “It’s just for a bit and we’ve been training non stop all week. And I’m your prince so you have to listen to me.”

“Not if I deem that you’re being recless and stupid.” The guard replied lowly.

Lance turned around sharply and scoffed, his nose up in the air. “I should hope you're not deeming that! Because that’s almost treason Kethek.”

Kethek wasn't so thick that he couldn't hear the teasing tone in the prince's voice and did not miss the twinges of a smirk at the corners of his mouth, and yet in some ways he still found the prince's antics endearing. Sighing and trying not to smile, he agreed. “Ok.” he replied. “We go for a half a varga. That’s it.”

The grin that sprang onto Lance’s face at his agreement was precious, and before Kethek could catch his breath, Lance was hauling him away excitedly.

They arrived at the kitchens in record time, the guards bowing as the prince walked through the doors, ignoring them. He called out for Hunk, making the entire kitchen staff pause what they were doing and bow to him too until the yellow clad chef finally made an appearance at the back of the room.

“Hey buddy!” Hunk said cheerfully when he spotted him, not even bowing to him in the slightest as they approached one another. “Aren't you supposed to be- oh.”

Hunk’s gaze was suddenly on Kethek, looking somewhat sheepish in spite of the fact that he was at least two times his size.

“Hunk, this is my guard Kethek.” Lance introduced with a smile. “Kethek, this is Hunk.”

Hunk gave a warm, somewhat wobbly grin and extended his forearm. “It’s a pleasure. Glad to finally meet the person keeping my best friend safe. And to know that this meeting isn’t one of his usual sneak-aways.”

Kethek took his forearm in the Altean gesture of greeting and gave a nod back, feeling a bit out of his element. Hunk’s reaction to him was a rare one, seeing as most people he met didn't hesitate to treat him with hostility before anything else.

“Yes, those are particularly irritating.” Kethek replied, trying to act casual in spite of his surprising kindness. “Good to know that he usually goes to you, though.”

Lance shot Hunk a glare and groaned. “Now look what you did, you’re selling me out!”

Kethek couldn't help himself and gave the prince a small smirk of his own before turning his attention back to the chef.

“So I’m going to assume that you were the one who tampered with the prince's door then?” He asked, giving a small smile in the hopes of not making his words as threatening as they had the potential to sound. Hunk paled immediately anyways and started wringing his hands together in a way that only a guilty person would.

“Oh, uh, yeah, heh… that was me… sorry. I mean I wasn’t going to, I swear, but you can’t ever tell this guy no. He can be very-”

“Persuasive, yeah.” Kethek finished for him, rolling his eyes and looking back at the prince. “That was his excuse too.”

The prince, somewhat to his surprise, was blushing, and it grew deeper when their eyes met. He flicked his eyes away before Kethek had the time to make anything of it, and started talking to Hunk again.

“Is it ready?” He asked.

“It’s gonna take me a few more minutes, but yeah. I figured you’d want some early, so I set aside a pot for you.” Lance grinned and slung an arm around Hunk.

“See? Look at that, you know me so well! We were made for each other, Hunk.” Hunk chuckled at his friend and looked to Kethek.

“Do you want any, Kethek?” He asked. But before he could reply, Lance was answering for him.

“Kethek here has never had daac before. Can you believe that?! What do the Galra even eat?? Come to think of it, I’ve never actually seen you eat a single meal in my life. Do Galra eat? Or do they only retain sustenance through drinking the blood of their enemies.”

“The blood of their enemies.” Kethek affirmed without missing a beat, catching both the Alteans off Guard. They looked at him with highly concerned expressions and Kethek swallowed.

“Hunk.” The prince said, both their eyes still locked on Kethek as he spoke. “Hunk that was a joke. Kethek just told a joke.”

“He can do that?” Hunk asked, going along with the teasing.

“Yeah, apparently! I honestly didn’t know if it was in his programming, I’m-“

Kethek scoffed and rolled his eyes, pressing his lips together. “You’re hilarious, highness.”

“No- no apparently YOU are hilarious! It’s shocking! I never thought-“

“I will make us leave.” Kethek said, trying to suppress his amusement of the prince's antics.

“Alright!” Lance quickly said, turning with a clap of his hands. “Let’s get that food, huh?”

The guard followed behind the two Alteans and sat down with the prince as Hunk brought out three steaming plates.

The smell was quite delicious, and Kethek suddenly became very hungry the moment it hit his nose.

The dish itself looked like a work of art. Garnished beautifully and presented with style. The Altean chef was clearly a talented man, and his food was probably what had first captured the prince's heart. He could imagine Lance tasting a dish so delicious and demanding he meet the one responsible, befriending him and showering him with compliments.

Or perhaps the two had been friends as children. The young prince making friends with the boy well before his talents fully developed. Offering him a job as a royal chef once they grew older.

There was clearly a fondness between the two. A comfort that came with knowing someone thoroughly, for a long time. The way Lance came to life with smiles and playfulness in the Chefs presence was reason enough to like him. That and Hunk didn’t seem to care what his race was. He was polite and unjudging.

Maybe that was why he and Lance got along so well too. Maybe Hunk was able to look upon Lance as a young man and friend before he saw him as a figure of royalty. And though Lance definitely enjoyed his status, he also knew that the prince did not like being treated like glass because of it. Hunk would ruffle his hair, punch him in the arm, and stick out his tongue at him, uncaring that he was doing so to the Leader of the free world, the paladin of the blue lion, and the sovereign prince of the Altean kingdom.

Kethek found himself contemplating the prince's relationship to Hunk far more than was probably normal, and instead focused on his food, which, it turned out, was very worthy of Lance’s high praise.

The prince chatted up a storm while the three ate, telling Hunk of his training with Kethek and how much he’s been improving. Detailing the differences in the swords he’s gotten to practice with as he’s gotten better. Kethek finds himself almost not wanting to have to make Lance leave when a half a Varga passes, finding the moment pleasant and enjoying the prince's rare unguarded enthusiasm. But Kethek had a job to do and a schedule to keep.

He was about to open his mouth to announce that the two of them had to get back to training, but surprisingly enough, the prince did so himself before he could.

“Well Hunk, thanks for the food, buddy, but this one is probably getting anxious to get back, so we gotta split.” Lance took his and Kethek’s plate from the table to help Hunk clean the dishes, and moments later, he was waiting expectantly at Kethek’s side. Right on the dot. Kethek hadn’t even seen him look at any sort of clock, and yet he wasn’t a second off their agreed schedule.

In the past, Lance might have been intentionally disobedient of Kethek or done whatever he wanted regardless of what Kethek had set out for them, but this perfect compliance and obedience showed to Kethek a level of trust and acceptance of him from the prince that he hadn’t seen before. Everything the prince did, it seemed, was intentional. Intended to prove a point or make clear his feelings. This gesture was Lance showing him respect, and Kethek was honestly taken aback by it.

But rather than dwell, Kethek bid Hunk his own farewell and led Lance back down the hall. Lance walked at his side, rather than a few feet in front of him and looked at ease rather than tightly wound and guarded. He was showing Kethek his trust, and Kethek honestly hadn’t expected it to feel as good as it did.

It was so distracting that he’d almost missed it. The feeling in his gut that told him to survey his surroundings. To be cautious. It pulled at his stomach and finally, his mind moved off of the prince enough to realize that there were absolutely no guards in this hall. That the area surrounding them was empty, and the silence wasn’t normal.

Kethek slowed his pace and flicked his eyes around the room, catching the confused attention of the prince who looked at him with worry.

“Kethek?” He’d asked.

But Kethek didn’t respond, his senses suddenly on high alert. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his bones, something deeper than instinct pulling at him. Telling him that something was off. That this wasn’t a trick of his mind.

“Your highness…” Kethek said lowly. “Stand behind me.”

The prince quirked a brow, his eyes looking a bit concerned as he stepped forward slightly.

“What is it?” He asked, looking around at the walls that his guard was gazing at, eyes narrowed.

And then, out of his belt sheath, Kethek removed his blade and Lance inferred pretty quickly what was going down. His heart skipped a beat.

“Kethek….” he said worriedly, watching as Kethek’s blade morphed from a small knife into a deadly, threatening sword.

“Don’t move.” He whispered, sounding calm to some degree, but he had an edge in his tone that told Lance to be cautious. “Don’t move, your highness. Stand close to me.”

Lance instantly felt like his heart was in his throat, wanting to at once hide behind Kethek where he felt with a surprising certainty that he was safe, and to pull out a blade himself to use to his own defense. To put his safety in his own hands again and not rely on Kethek.

But he didn't have time to make a firm decision on which of the two he would choose, because almost as soon as Lance had drifted off into his thoughts, Kethek had sprung into action, moving so fast, that it made Lance dizzy. He swiped out an arm to crash with Lance’s chest and push him out of the way of an attacker that had seemed to appear out of thin air. Lance choked out a scream, shaking as he attempted to ready his gun, but was instead suddenly racked with panic. A panic that made him freeze up completely as images of his last attack flashed through his head, the scar on his neck burning suddenly from where the Galran had almost slit his-

“LANCE!” Kethek screamed suddenly, momentarily pulling him out of his haze to realize that another Galra Assassin was charging towards him as Kethek held off the first one on his own.

His brain was lagging, his breaths labored and frantic and in his hesitance, something- no, someone appeared in front of him, halting the oncoming attack. In any normal circumstance he would have known immediately that the one who had come to his rescue was Hunk, just from the shape of his figure alone, but Lance was only slipping deeper into his panic. Deeper into his fear and paralysis.

In the back of his mind he could hear Hunk talking to him. Yelling. Telling him he needed to get up. In the back of his mind he had seen Kethek take out an entire swarm of assassins in a match that should have been uneven. In the back of his mind he registered that Hunk had thrown himself in front of a knife to protect him, and that the castle guard was slow to arrive and help Kethek with keeping the attackers at bay, his panic was consuming him so much that he could do absolutely nothing.

He stood, in the chaos, realizing that both Hunk and Kethek were both suddenly out of his line of sight. Panic shot through him and in an instant, he came back to himself. The feeling in his limbs returning and the clarity of the situation rising back into his mind. There was chaos everywhere. And the only thing keeping him out of the fight was that somehow he had been shoved into a corner that hid him from the sight of the majority of the room. At least only for a moment.

In seconds, the hiding space he held was invaded by a masked Galra, preparing to throw a knife, and in a second more, Lance had shot him dead. He hadn't realized he’d done it until he saw his outstretched arm in front of him and felt the tears that had begun to sting his eyes. Finally, there was quiet, and nobody was trying to kill him anymore.

Hunk appeared around the corner, looking terrified, and dove in to hug him.

“Hunk-” he breathed. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I heard the commotion from the kitchen.” He breathed, tears in his eyes. “I came as soon as I could.”

“Lance…” he suddenly heard Kethek say breathlessly. “LANCE!!”

The fight was over. For now. And Kethek was looking for him.

Shakily he took a step forward, meeting Kethek’s eyes almost instantly from across the room, several bodies on the ground. About seven assassins and two of the royal guard.

Kethek dove forward, sprinting towards the prince without an inkling of a second thought, looking so, so worried.

“Are you ok?!” He asked, rushing towards him. “Did they hurt you? Are you hurt??”

“N- no…” Lance sputtered. “I... I didn’t even- no I’m ok.”

“Good…” Kethek breathed. “You need to go. There are probably more on the wa-”

“No!” Lance suddenly spat. Finally finding the courage in himself that he’d almost lost. “I’m not just gonna go and hide while a bunch of Galran assassins have to go through you on their way to me! I almost did that just now. It’s not going to happen again.”

Lance flicked aside his cape, smoothly drawing his Bayard from his belt and calling it to wake, the handle glowing blue and taking form as Lance cocked an indignant hip raising his rifle at the ready. He was still shaking but he wouldn’t allow himself to succumb to his fear. He wouldn’t make Kethek fight for him alone.

Kethek, though he wanted to argue, had no time, his rebuttal cut off before he could even form a word as Lance whipped his gun to the side of Kethek’s head, just mere inches away and fired three shots.

Kethek, surprised, turned to see three assassins in the same attire as the previous lying on the ground, each with precise headshots marking their helmets.

And then, there was more. At least 5 suddenly sprinting towards the prince, who merely narrowed his eyes and charged his rifle.

Kethek had no choice but to let him stay. At this point, it was his best option for staying safe.

With a growl he yelled. “Stand your ground highness.” Just like in training, use their distance to your advantage while you can! I’ll keep them from getting any closer to you!”

Lance nodded and Kethek and the guard took off running.

Lance wasn’t weak. Lance didn’t need to be protected. Lance could protect himself.

Kethek was going to let him fight. He wasn’t going to back down. He was going to be in charge of whether he got to live or die, at least to more of a degree than he‘d had the ability to recently.

But before he even got the chance, the hall was suddenly completely bombarded by a squadron of the royal guard and within minutes, he was barricaded by at least 5 soldiers who grabbed him and started to try and remove him from the scene. Through the cracks in between the shoulders of the guards he saw Kethek, looking very surprised by what was going on, alone amidst several other members of the guard who had each other's backs. Kethek was not a concern, and yet again, Lance was being dragged away from danger.

Lance screamed, demanded that his guards let him go back, squirming and kicking to try to free himself of their tight grasp, but their hold on him only got stronger as they told him that they had direct orders from the queen to take him to the safe room, and before he knew it, he once again was locked behind a huge metal door behind a hidden panel in the castle walls, with three guards standing at his defense, ready to fight, and now had no choice but to wait.

He waited for hours, screaming at the guards who completely ignored him, pacing the room frantically, going insane with the thought that Kethek could have been hurt. Some part of him assured that he was overreacting though. A rational part of his brain told him that Kethek was in this position for a reason. That no matter how easy on Lance he probably was during training, Kethek was a fearsome warrior who could more than fend for himself. But Lance’s heart still ached with worry, right up until the very moment that the guards moved to open the doors back up to let Coran in.

Lance had jumped, running to the entrance, hoping beyond hope that Kethek would walk through, healthy and unscathed, but as soon as Lance saw Coran's unmistakable red hair, he had to admit that his heart dropped a little.

Nonetheless he went straight to Coran, demanding answers, talking so fast that even he was having trouble following himself.

“Kethek! Hunk…!” He said, feeling sick to his stomach. “Where is he? Where are they?!”

“Lance,” Coran said gently, putting two steadying hands on his shoulders to try and help him relax a bit. “Calm down my boy, it’s alright ok? Hunk I believe is back in his quarters and Kethek is in the med bay as we speak.”

“He’s what?!?” Lance gasped, eyes widening. “What happened to him, is he hurt?? See, this is why you shouldn’t have forced me to leave- I could have looked out for him! He’s been training me to- I could have- he needed me to-”

“Lance!! My god, calm your kinaffuls, boy! Kethek is in the med bay just getting patched up, he got only a few scrapes is what I heard. He is more than capable of holding his own out there. And just because he’s training you doesn’t mean it’s a wise decision to leave you vulnerable. Anything could have happened and we need to keep you safe. You know this!”

Lance felt himself start to shake. Like he was losing control. He was relieved to know that Kethek was ok, but everything just felt so wrong. So out of his control and frantic. He hated this protective room. He hated being forced to hide away while people put their lives on the line as a buffer for his. He hated the panic and shame, and the constant let down of feeling like he should be helping and then being dragged away.

He felt himself start to break down, and before he could give himself the time to advise against it, he was pulling Coran in for a squeezing hug. It was a selfish kind of hug. One you initiate less for the person you're hugging and more for your own comfort. He squeezed Coran tight and let himself cry into his shoulder until it was damp.

Coran was one of very few people he could openly cry in front of. Not even Allura was someone Lance felt like he could confide in now. Not recently anyways. But Coran… Coran had been like a father to him since birth. In many ways, he was.

Coran had seen him through his best and his worst and was the one familial figure besides Allura that this war had not yet taken away from him. Coran was the least judgemental person Lance knew. And in spite of him acting completely ridiculous most all of the time, Lance had always found conversation with him easy. So he decided that if he was going to choose any moment to break down, it may as well be now, with the one person who he felt he could let see it.

Coran mellowed almost instantly, like he always does when Lance is hurting, moving his hand to rub at his back and wait for the tears to subside.

“I hate this, Coran.” He muttered weakly into his shoulder. “I really hate this so much.”

“I know you do, my boy. I hate that you have to go through this too. I would do anything to remove this burden from you. You know that…”

Lance sniffed and nodded. Wiping at his eyes. “But that's exactly why I hate it… '' he whispered. “I want to be responsible for my own life. I don't want anyone to have to get hurt because of me… Hunk… even Hunk, my best friend…. The one person who has never seen me as royalty, jumped in front of an attack to save me. Considered in that moment that his life was less than mine. I hate that. I hate being sheltered and kept in a glass case and watched over like I might break at any moment.”

“I know…” Coran said. “I wish you could have grown up for a little longer before this happened. I wish you didn't have to have this happen at all, but you were born into a life of royalty during a war. The circumstances are what they are… you just have to try to not let them get the best of you… so long as you remember that it is because we care about you that we do what we must to keep you safe. Even more so than because of your status.”

Lance nodded, but didn’t respond. He understood… of course he understood, but he hated all this with a fire that burned viciously through his soul He felt that if he said anything further, he'd just lose it, and he was already displaying a lot more vulnerability then he was usually comfortable with. So he sucked in a breath, dried his eyes, straightened out his cape and stood back from Coran, trying to look as composed as he could be even though he knew without a doubt that his face was stained with tears and he probably looked like a wreck.

“I’m here to come with you back to your room. I thought you’d probably appreciate it better than just walking with a group of guards. They’ll still be there of course…” Coran said, starting to babble a bit. “But it will be me, you, and the four guards… that will be the difference…”

“Thank’s Coran.” He replied softly, the man managing to pull a little smile from his lips at his roundabout explanations. “I really appreciate it.”

The two of them, surrounded by four guards who flanked his front and back, walked back out of the safe room in relative silence. Lance didn't really feel like talking and Coran probably didn't want to push him. He respected his effort to try and keep Lance as relaxed as he could.

When they reached his room, Lance scanned the handrint to enter and when the doors opened, he turned to Coran.

“You said Kethek wasn’t badly injured, does this mean that he will be able to escort me to finish off my meetings today?”

Coran actually scoffed, his eyes going wide. “Finish off your meetings?! Prince, you were just ambushed! Your meetings are as good as canceled!”

“No they are not!” Lance shot back firmly. “I have a responsibility to my kingdom to uphold and I am perfectly fit to do so. There is no need to postpone anything today at all.”

“But-”

“Coran please…” Lance said, basically begging now. “Just allow me this… it’s about all that I can control right now. I will feel worse if I miss these appointments and you know it.”

Coran looked conflicted, but bit his lip in compliance anyways.

“I’ll senk Kethek as soon as he is able… and I’ll talk to your sister. Just…. Please take it easy ok?”

Lance sighed. “I don’t think there’s any point in promising that.”

Coran too sighed and readied himself to go fetch Kethek.

“Very well,'' he replied. “The most I can say is that I tried, right?”

Lance chuckled and thanked him, walking inside his room so he wouldn't have to see the guards hovering anymore. With a groan he flopped onto his couch and let gravity just smother him into the cushions.

He went over, in his scattered mind, who he was supposed to be meeting. The planet's name, the name of the king, the important customs to remember… it had all been fresh in his mind, and now it felt like he was combing through a carpet to find the details he needed that had been lost in the chaos of the day's events.

He lay on the couch for several long minutes, distracting himself and trying to be prepared when a knock finally came at his door. A Kethek knock… one that was soft and had an air of politeness, but firm at the same time.

“Come in.” Lance said, waiting a moment for Kethek to enter as he stood to his feet and made himself a little more presentable. When his eyes met the golden gaze of the Galran’s, Lance let out an incredible sigh of relief.

“Kethek…” he said softly. “I’m… I’m glad to see you’re ok.”

Kethek nodded, hands behind his back, shoulders squared. He always got stiff when he was in Lance’s room like this…

“As am I, my prince.” He replied. “... I know you wanted to stay and fight, though. I'm sorry you had to be removed in the way that you were. I know that you don't like… being treated like glass.”

Lance blinked, rather surprised, remembering vaguely the time that he had yelled at Kethek that he didn't want to be treated delicately. Apparently the memory was not vague for Kethek though.

“Yes… about that.” Lance said. “I wanted to thank you for choosing to let me stay, even if it was eventually out of both of our hands. The fact that you took the time to consider my feelings… even in the minds of a battle, enough to realize that I would have preferred to have a hand in defending myself… it didn't go unnoticed. Thank you for having faith in me.”

Kethek sighed, and looked to the ground. “My job is to protect you, your highness. I should have been able to foresee the attack and keep you away from it before it happened.”

“How do you expect to be able to foresee an attack?” Lance asked confusedly.

“The more important question should be why I haven't been able to with any of these attacks to you. These assassins always just seem to appear out of thin air.”

Lance sighed. “It does feel like that.”

The two stood a few feet apart, in silence, for a bit longer before Kethek cleared his throat and changed subjects.

“So…” he began. “Should we head off?”

Lance looked up to him and couldn't help but smile. This is what he needed. He needed to confront the issue, and think it through, but not dwell on it. To accept the situation at that moment and move on as best he could. For whatever reason, Kethek seemed to get that. To get him… and he was never more thankful for it than today.

Lance nodded, stepping forwards as Kethek followed him out the door. “To the meetings.” He replied.

____

In the depths of his sleep, Lance dreamt of Kethek. Just short, quick flashes of his face. His eyes. His blade. His silhouette, backlit against fields of deep red.

He saw red in all its hues. Lit brilliantly like a fire and dimmed to magenta like curtains over a stage. Both blazing with anticipation and energy, a controlled fury of something not yet to its fullest potential. An excitement and terrifying wonder for something just out of his reach. A feeling that stayed ripe in his bones even long after he’d woken up.

The color red, urging him to push forward, deeper into his dream. Daring him to discover. Daring him to explore the forbidden. The dangerous, and the unknown.

For whatever reason, the brilliant red hues that flash under his eyelids tell him that Kethek holds answers that Lance hadn’t been aware he needed. It happens for several nights, over and over. Red consuming his subconscious like a wildfire. Novels worth of a story seem to hide in the red he sees whenever he shuts his eyes.

But on this night, he saw something he had never actually seen with his own eyes. A vision of something that was recognizable enough just by the way that it looked, that he didn’t even have to have seen it in the past to know.

Had he been awake, it would have swept his breath away. Lance didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but visions of the red lion had come to him in his dreams.

Lance pitched forward out of his bed, breathing in sharply, red flashing in his eyes. His breaths were labored as sweat collected on his forehead and back. His heart was pounding, his head was spinning, and all he could help to do was just stare... simply stare into the darkness of his room around him. Thoughts flew around his head at a million miles a minute, paired with all encompassing feelings of determination and desperation that Lance felt weren’t entirely his own. It felt more as though they were being fed to him... prompting him to rush out of bed and run for the pods, whether or not he really knew why.

The urging turned into a fiery panic and Lance, unable to sit and fester under the weight of it any longer, bolted. Dressing himself in an armored suit fit for space travel, and leaving his paladin armor untouched in its glass encasing in the far side of his room. This situation- whatever it was- called for something a little less recognizable, and his paladin armor was the last thing that would grant him that.

With this in mind he didn’t even put on his crown, or any of his other usual adornments, attempting to look as unassuming as possible. Of course he couldn’t be sure if any of this would really work in his favor anyways, but he was too fixated on the thoughts of desperation in his head to give it too much thought. He had to get to the pod bay. That much he knew.

This… this was the answer to his recent unrest… it had to be. This was something he could do to help. Him and only him. This was his element. Out of anyone, Lance knew more about the lions than anyone other than Zarkon himself. This was HIS mission, and his alone, so whatever he was going to do, he wasn't going to let anyone know. He was going to take charge and be useful and if it killed him it was going to be because of his own damn choices.

Lance, connecting his bayard to the suit he was now wearing so that he could call it awake when and if he needed it, double and triple checked that he could make it appear without a hitch and flashed it way to be hidden. Packing a couple of other weapons into his belt for safe measure and after doing a quick scan of the room, Lance decided to run for it.

Not knowing how much time he had before a guard on night patrol would walk across his path, Lance took off running full speed down the corridors. Careful to avoid any patrols along the way, and made it to the pod bay doors completely unseen.

They opened and shut around him quietly and Lance immediately went to prepare one of the crafts. He was quick about his work, starting engines, preparing sustenance for the journey, punching in a rough idea of the coordinates that had recently burned themselves into his head, and was about to board the ship when, suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him back and he screamed, terror making him snap around to look whoever it was in the face.

Much to his complete and utter annoyance, he found himself looking down at Kethek.

“Oh my fucking go- what the actual hell dude!!! Where the quiznack did you come from!! You scared the living shit out of me!!!”

“Why,” Kethek asked, “because I could have been another assassin? Well, I'm glad to see you seem to have at least a little bit of concern when sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night. I’d be even more frustrated if you didn’t have any sense of self preservation after everything that’s happened.” He said crossing his arms with an annoyed scowl on his face. He let his words sink in enough for Lance to groan frustratedly before continuing with “What were you planning to do just now exactly?”

“How did you even know I was here?!” Lance asked, fearing the situation was now dreadfully hopeless.

Kethek gave him an exhausted look. “I am alerted every single time a door is opened on this castle your highness, you know this. I pay particular attention to the random ones that are opened at ungodly hours of the night. Your door has a much more attention grabbing alert than the others do.”

Lance exhaustedly rubbed his temples. “Kethek… please, come on just… please, you have to let me do this!!”

“Your highness, be reasonable. I can’t let that happen....” He responded, annoyance somewhat latent in his voice. “Do I actually have to remind you of the danger you’re in?! I had to take out someone just this week after seeing him tampering with our security systems and attempting to move security away from your room!”

Lance blinked in shock. “You... wait what?!”

“And the others have reported apprehending a lot more. Way too many more.... And you! Less than 24 hours ago getting caught up in a fight yourself! I thought you were starting to get this and that you would stop sneaking out in the middle of the night over and over again!”

“I get caught in one fight, thinking that it was just that fight and now you're telling me that there have been dozens more without me even knowing?? All that happens and you decide the best thing to do is keep me in the dark?! Really?!”

“That wasn’t my decision, those were the queens orders. Orders I’m now disobeying because I knew... I knew! That if the severity of this situation was kept from you, you would be all the more inclined to do stupid shit like this and get yourself killed!”

“Your highness, you really need to stop being so reckless! I mean, what are you thinking, trying to sneak out on a pod in the middle of the night?! If the queen heard about this... if she had any idea what you just tried to do-“

Lance blinked at the angry guard, his face twisting the more he spoke, and suddenly he had a realization. Kethek, stick in up his ass, I follow the rules to keep you safe, authority respecting Kethek was actually none of these things. Sure he still probably had a stick up his ass, but he really, really had a difficult time respecting authority. He didn’t, in any way, blindly follow orders, Lance realized. He never had. It had truly been Allura making Lance see him that way.

Kethek wasn’t such an ass because he wanted to please the queen, he was an ass because he was, the majority of the time, at odds with the queens decisions, and really was in this for Lance’s safety and nothing else. He was dedicated to his mission, and it was incredibly frustrating to him to have to blindly follow orders that he disagreed with, because Lance realized he wasn’t someone who would ever normally do so. How had he not seen it before? So maybe if Kethek knew why… maybe if he just told him what was going on he could actually agree with him. Maybe he’d understand. If he stopped thinking of him as his sister's puppet, they could actually agree on something.

“Kethek...” Lance said, cutting him off of his frustrated rambling. Kethek stopped and shot an angry look in Lance’s direction, daring the prince to challenge him.

“Kethek... I think the Galra have the red lion…”

The guard suddenly stilled, the annoyance falling quickly from his features, replaced with confusion, and maybe a little bit of fear.

“What?” He asked. “What told you that?”

Lance’s face hardened.

“I don’t know if Allura told you or not, but our father, the creator of the lions, connected them all to our life forces. We have a bond with each of the lions apart from the bond between it and its paladin.”

“What does that mean....” Kethek questioned.

“It means that even if my quintessence is not mirrored in any particular lion, I can still have a sense of them. A sense impossible for others to have unless they themselves are fit to be its paladin.”

“And you sense the red lion?”

Lance nodded. “I dreamt I was in its cockpit. All the screens were down except for one which had coordinates shifting slightly as a location would if it were moving. A ship for example. I was receiving strong feelings of distress and when I looked up from the coordinates I found them in heavily Galra occupied space. It’s an assumption, but it makes the most sense. The Galra must have acquired a lion, and if that’s the case, we are in serious danger. They’re probably searching for a paladin as we speak, and if there is even a slight chance that they could find one, we lose the biggest advantage we have over the empire.”

“I don’t care what you have to say about the danger my life is in, I do not give a single fuck if you say you won’t let me go because you can’t stop me. I need to get that lion away from them. I don’t know how, But I’ll die trying if that’s what it takes.”

Kethek blinked at Lance’s stony expression, bent with anger and defiance.

“Let me get this straight.” Kethek said, keeping his voice neutral. “You had a dream about the red lion. It gave you coordinates that you know will probably lead you into Galra territory and your plan was to sneak on down there... alone.... looking very much like the prince of Altea, who is just wearing a slightly different space suit then usual as an attempt to be discreet?”

Lance scowled harder, preparing to defend himself.

“... yes.” He replied.

“You’re an idiot. Oh my-“ Kethek slid both his hands down his face in what could only be described as agony. “You’re actually an idiot...”

“I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be insulting me like this!” Lance snapped. “I am your prince, and as I told you already, Kethek. I don’t give a fuc what you think of the plan, I’m going through with it! This is my element. This is something that I have more knowledge than anyone else. I have a chance to set something right and I refuse to let it be another opportunity for people to risk their lives for me and this might be the one time I can do something where they don't have to!”

Kethek sounded exhausted letting out a long sigh and rubbing a few fingers to his temple. He looked conflicted. Like he was biting his tongue to keep himself from saying something he would regret.

“You truly believe that these visions could lead us to a lion, and keep it out of Galran hands…”

“Yes.” Lance replied. “I can feel it in my gut. Visions are much different than dreams. Far more visceral. This was a vision. A response to what could be the lion's version of a distress beacon.”

Kethek sighed, long and heavy. Squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he stared Lance dead on. His expression serious and intimidating. In a low voice, he spoke up.

“I need you to understand this before I say anything further. This is serious, ok? If we do this, The queen can not know. I could be banned from the castle or charged with treason if she finds out. But you need a proper disguise at the very least, and I can get you one if you wait. If we’re going to do this we have to think it through. There needs to be an actual plan.”

“… you’re offering to help me?”

“Well stopping you isn’t going to happen, and you’re right. If you’re not mistaken about your vision…. this is... incredibly important. If the Galra somehow found the Red Lion… that could be disastrous. Even if there is a chance that you misread your dream and nothing's wrong, you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to let you go alone. I can help you. And with my help, we might actually have a chance to survive.”

Lance looked at Kethek even more perplexed. “I don’t need your help!” He said angrily. “I cant accept your help, don’t you get it, that’s exactly my point! I don’t want you to be at risk for my sake! I want to make a decision and have it be my choice and have the consequences fall only on me!” And with that Kethek stopped, turning back to face him, an irritated scowl plain on his face.

“The consequences you alone will face will affect an entire race, weather you like it or not. Your solo mistakes have the potential to ripple through the entire universe! You're not expendable! I know it isn't something you want to hear, but you don't have the luxury to make your own choices when they have that big of an impact. You need support, point blank. I can be that support, and we can fight together. We can look out for each other. It’s just about as close as you can get to getting what you want.”

“But Kethek-“

“Prince, let me ask you this. Do you have the ability to fly this castle?”

Lance looked confused. “Yes…” he replied

“But I can’t fly this castle can I.”

“No.” Lance said

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re not Altean.” Lance said, still looking confused.

“So if I want to interface on anything on this ship, without having been given clearance as your guard it would be useless.”

“Yes… What is the point to this?”

“The point is that on a Galran ship, our rolls here would be reversed. You, an Altean, would not only immediately stick out, but even if you did know how to evade the century patrols, which you don’t, you still wouldn’t be able to do anything as simple as open a door, because you are not Galra.”

Kethek took an intimidating step forward. “I,” he growled, “am Galra. I have lived on the ships you want to break into. I can interface with the technology and I know the layout of the ships, what to avoid and how to avoid them. I still have my proper uniforms, and I can easily blend in in ways that are impossible for you. Having me with you, is your only option if you want to retrieve the Red Lion. You could ask anyone in this quadrant if they would do this for you, and I guarantee they would say no, so take the help I’m offering. If the situation is as dire as you claim it to be, then you would be foolish to refuse it.”

All Lance could help to do was blink, slightly taken aback by the guards words. He was right. He had always been right. His only chance was with him. He had no choice.

Then, with a sudden jolt of concern, Lance’s eyes widened. He, terrifyingly, came to the realization that they would have to actually try and do this, subsequently noticed that the connection he’d felt to the red lion had faded. And it wasn't just the memories of his dream that were fading, but the thrumming panicked sensation was beginning to fade as well.

“What is it.” Kethek asked, noticing the look on the prince’s face.

“I- I can’t… the lion's energy is lessening, I’m losing it…”

The prince looked devastated. His eyes widened in disbelief with himself.

“Kethek,” he said, his voice cracking, “I lost it! This was my chance to reclaim the Red Lion and...”

“What can you remember?” Kethek tried, hoping to help the prince, but he was only met with more looks or disbelief.

“All I can recall is red. Red, and the Red Lion. Everything else, the feelings of urgency, anything specific…. It's all gone.”

Kethek let out a long sigh.

“Maybe it's for the best. He said softly. Now we have more time to think all of this through. I’m sure that this won't be the last time you sense something like this.”

“But what if I don’t?!” the prince cried, looking frantic. “What if that was it, and the Galra find a paladin?!”

“Well the lions are connected to you right? Maybe you feel the red lion’s presence only when it needs to be felt. Maybe the situation became less dire and you no longer sense it because things are ok?”

Lance frowned, hugging himself with both of his hands gripping tightly to the opposite forearm. He looked lost. Upset and scared. “We can’t afford to have that kind of faith. We needed to respond regardless.”

“My father’s lion was the red lion.” He continued softly. “But I never saw it before. Never even knew what it looked like. The war began before I was born. Allura was only an infant. He created some of the most powerful weapons in existence but could find nobody to pilot them. And as the war grew more severe, the chance of the lions matching up with a pilot who stood with Zarkon became a significant threat. So he hid them away. In locations only he knew. But he connected them to us in any way he could so that we might have a chance to find them if we ever needed them.

“I learned of the lions when I was nine years old for the first time. I learned the threat they posed when I was thirteen. Saw how devastating of a threat it truly was when the war took my mother and Zarkon killed my father in his mad hunt to reclaim the black lion that was taken from him. Zarkon didn't know of Allura and my connection to the lions and still doesn't. But then, somewhat by chance, or maybe it wasn't chance at all, I discovered the blue lion on a bain a in a distant star system and it accepted me as its paladin. Now Zarkon wants me dead just like my father and my sisterssister'soesn't face the same threat only because he is unaware that we can sense the lions without being a paladin. I stand in the way of him claiming Voltron as a weapon for the Galra. This is my responsibility.”

“I know all of this to be true, and yet, I’ve never sensed a lion at all until this moment. Blue came completely as a surprise to me. I did not dream of her beforehand. I’d never had visions of her. This was different Kethek, This was strong and vivid. This was real and… and now it's gone.”

“Maybe you just need to focus.” Kethek said gently. “Recall what you felt and try to find it again.”

“I don’t know how. Everything I do know how to do I’ve done, and still nothing is coming to me.”

Kethek frowned, folding his hands behind his back as he contemplated their next move.

“Maybe we should go to the queen then. If you explained to her what you saw… maybe she would understand. My going with you without her permission would probably not have ended well for anyone. This actually gives us a chance to step back.”

The prince's eyes widened. “Wait, I didnt even think- Kethek, it’s just like you said! You helping me could have been cause for accusations of treason! And yet you were going to put everything on the line regardless? Why on Altea would you do something like that?!”

“Well, simply put, I believed you.” Kethek said. “If you were right about the red lion, which I believed that you were, it’s a simple fact that retrieving the lion and keeping it from Galran hands was more important than my being charged with treason, or whatever else. There are other Blades suited to the position of being your guard, so if I was banned, then you would have still had protection.”

“But not your protection.” Lance said, almost in a whisper.

Kethek quirked a brow.

“To be perfectly honest, this adjustment to having you as my guard has been difficult enough for me. It would not have been desirable to lose you and have to get reacclimated again.”

Then his eyes shot open again, suddenly panicked. “- By which I am not attempting to mean that I only regret my actions because I would have to get used to a new guard, but on a personal level too. I would not wish upon you the wrath of my sister and my kingdom, or your banishment and all the bad that severing your relationship with my kingdom could do in the big picture… That was in no way my intent. Please forgive me for being so insensitive… I was caught up in my visions, and the emotion I didn't even try to understand how devastating helping me could end up being for you…”

Kethek was then reminded again of the night outside of the prince’s room. The surprise he had felt at receiving the apology then, was nothing in comparison to this one now. Both took him by surprise, but this one left Kethek a bit stunned.

“Your highness, it’s- it’s ok, I understand. There is no need to apologize. I can imagine how you must have felt. I feel like it would make anyone more frantic and less aware of their behavior. There is no need to apologize to me.”

“But there is! The poor treatment of anyone who doesn't deserve it is grounds for apology, Kethek. Truthfully, I am indebted to you in more ways than I’ve let myself truly accept. You dedicate your life to protecting me, and I‘ve acted so selfishly in return.”

“My prince, you, out of all the people I have gotten to know since moving to Altea, have been the most open and considerate of my presence even despite the stresses you deal with every day. I see the effort you make to turn away from prejudice and I appreciate it tremendously.”

“Lance.”... The prince said.. “Whe Looking like he’dwjust come to a conclusion, his eaze setting like ston’re alone, like this… you call me Lance, ok? I doubt my court and my people would take to you treating me casually when were round the castle, even if they knew that I requested it, but… but I don't want you to feel like you're surrounded by your enemies again, and I don't want to feel like I’m being babysat. I think the more we can begin to consider each other friends ... the better it will be for the both of us.”

“Is that why the chef called you Lance?” Kethek asked, smiling a bit.

“Hunk? Yes.” Lance smiled, seeming happy at the mention of his friend. “But Hunk and I were close as children. He never addressed me formally. He finds it weird when he has to.”

The prince chuckled softly and Kethek smiled. Genuinely smiled. And once he noticed that he had, he realized that it wasn't actually that groundbreaking at all, reaching this point with Lance. Slowly, without even knowing it, he and the prince had started to develop something akin to friendship long before Lance proposed it. Weird friends who couldn't stand each other and annoy each other most all of the time, but friends nonetheless. He had been letting his walls down this whole time, slowly but surely, and realizing it worried him in some ways, but he was ok with it. In some ways this made him safer than keeping his distance had in the past. It was to his benefit to have someone in his corner.

“Alright, Lance then.” Kethek said softly.

“Lance.” Lance repeated, and then after a moment of silently smiling at eachother, Lance frowned.

“And Allura…” he sighed. “You said I should talk to her.”

“We might be able to use her help. And if you’re not wrong, this is extremely important. She may agree to give us the help that we need.”

Lance groaned, feeling a pit form in his stomach. “Yeah… ok.” he said softly. “Beg Allura to let me out of a castle on a mission in Galran occupied space. Should be simple...“

“Yes,” Kethek says. “With your powers of persuasion, it should be.”

And yeah, Lance’s heart skips a beat at that. Because that was a reference to what Lance had told him after the spa. That was a reference to what Hunk had said in the kitchens. This was Kethek poking jabs at him. This was Kethek, in a small way, letting himself relax around him. Showing him trust.

And it’s weird. It’s weird how much it delights him. How much he wants more of it. To know more of this Kethek that smiles and tells jokes.

And it’s what convinces him eventually, to step forwards with confidence. To confront Allura. To assert himself and do what needed to be done.

Because he’d be doing it with Kethek. And somehow… that felt right. Safe.

It felt possible.

So he smiles. He rolls his eyes. He revels in the confidence that, for whatever reason, Kethek is giving him.

And he pushes forwards, Kethek at his side.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t always been this way. Lance hadn’t always gotten a pit in his stomach and sweaty hands at the mere prospect of talking to his sister. In fact, it had only truly gotten to be as bad as it was after Kethek’s arrival. Lance felt like he never saw her anymore and when he did there was always some explosive exchange. Something to make him angry and uninterested in continuing a conversation. The fact of the matter was that Allura detested Kethek’s presence in the castle and Kethek had to be with Lance at all times, which meant that Allura now had a bad attitude whenever they were together.

But it was more than that even… Once Allura had become queen and assassins started coming after Lance, all remnants of their playful, loving bond as siblings seemed to dissipate. Lance got why, to some degree. There was an extreme amount of pressure she was dealing with, but had Lance been in her place and her in his, he wasn't sure he'd be reacting in the same way.

Their roles after their father's death were supposed to be simple. Split the job into two parts. Allura would handle more of the local diplomatic and economic affairs- the parts of the job of ruling an entire planet would require without the threat of war, but also including things like keeping the Altean people fed and safe from threats. Lance’s job was the second part of that: keeping the war away from the planet. Lance would handle business with the other aligned planets and lead the war effort as the paladin of the blue lion. Command missions both for battle and for trade with those in alliance with Altea. But the plan had pretty much completely fallen apart the first time Lance found himself with a knife to his throat in the halls of what was supposed to be the impenetrable safety of his castle.

Allura took charge and put everything on lockdown, requiring diplomats from other planets to meet with Lance on Altea rather than he coming to them as was traditional. The arrangements were usually accepted though, given the reasoning for Lance’s confinement to the castle. Lance truly did understand and appreciate the caution, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't harboring a bit of resent towards his sister in spite of the genuine intentions behind her rather drastic decisions. A resentment that left him anxious to so much as speak with her.

The brief bit of confidence he had managed to gain in making the decision to go through with talking to her dwindled fast the closer he actually got to doing it until finally he was panicking again.

“Kethek.” Lance said, abruptly stopping in his tracks to turn to his guard. “She will tell us no. I guarantee it.”

“You don’t know that prince. This situation is different. She may agree to it out of desperation, out of their being no other options… similar to her reasoning for tolerating my presence here. And I can advocate for you if you don't wish to defy the queens wishes.”

Lance frowned, maybe slightly disappointed that he had been able to make such a good point.

“Maybe you should be the diplomat, Kethek…” The prince said, only half joking.

“I find myself to not be quite as… extroverted as being a diplomat would require.”

“Hm, ya don’t say…” Lance teased. “Don't all people shove knives at each other when they first meet or was that just you and I?”

And Kethek was glad that the prince was turned forwards because in that moment, he wasn't entirely sure he had been able to suppress the blush that he had felt rise to his cheeks.

Had they not been in public, Kethek might have attempted to continue bantering and defend himself, but when he was in the eyes of the Altean public, he had to remember that it would not be acceptable, no matter what boundaries the prince had expressed being willing to break with him.

So he kept his mouth shut and continued with him down the hall, walking at his side and keeping his eyes peeled and focused, very intent on not letting the earlier events of the day threaten Lance so severely again.

Lance of course had not wanted to wait till morning to talk to the queen, despite his hesitancy to, fearing that he would only lose his connection to the red lion the more they waited. So now, in the middle of the night, he and Lance were headed to Allura’s quarters to request to speak with her. Something that would typically be forbidden for anyone to do other than Coran and the prince, but Kethek, as Lance’s shadow, served in this situation as an extension of the prince, therefore giving him the right to be in the presence of the queen at such an ungodly hour when she was no doubt trying to sleep.

The guards that lined the halls as they got closer to her room would have stopped him had he been alone several feet ago, but as their prince, Lance was not questioned nor bothered.

Finally they reached a door with three guards standing in front and Lance cleared his throat.

“If you could please wake Allura.” He said. “I have an urgent matter to speak with her. Have her meet us in the third briefing room as soon as she is able.”

The guards bowed and one moved inside the room.

Kethek had to admit the bit of relief that he felt, knowing that he would not have to enter the queen's private chambers. The environment was an intimate one, one that he did not at all feel privy to invading. He had felt similarly towards the prince’s chambers, but he’d had to get over that fairly quickly. Being Lances guard came with a closeness that he was sure neither of them had been totally prepared for even though they were slowly settling into it now.

Kethek followed Lance to the briefing room and Lance sat down in one of the chairs with a huff. Clearly nervous as he thrummed his long fingers on the table in a quick little pattern.

Kethek stood guard at the door, letting the prince be, thinking that now might not be the best time to confront him about his anxieties, but Lance turned to him yet again anyways.

“Kethek…” Lance said softly, Looking him right in the eyes. “If… if my sister says no… you know that I’m going to have to disobey her.”

“I understand. I don’t take it personally.”

“No, Kethek, that’s just my point. I have no choice but to see this through to its end and I am not going to let you face charges of treason in the effort to help me.”

Kethek’s face hardened as he realized what Lance was saying.

“Prince, I'm not going to let you go alone. That’s final.”

“I won’t have to! You're right in that I can’t hope to succeed without help from somebody who is Galran themselves. So… so if Allura says no, perhaps another member of the Blade of Marmora can come with me.”

“Another member- Highness, I already told you. Nobody else is going to agree to help you.”

“One might! You're willing… why does that eliminate the odds that another blade would be willing to as well?”

“You don’t- it’s not like that… They aren't… they're different, Lance. Kethek replies, lowering his voice.”

“Different from yourself?” Lance asked. “How can you claim to be any different from them?”

“The Blade of Marmora is a group whose existence has survived through this war because we have a strict code and strict rules to follow. The mission comes before all else. Above the lives of your teammates, above your own life. Above anything. They won’t hesitate to leave you for dead if you fall behind.”

“Not if I am the mission…” Lance countered. “If keeping me safe is their mission then they wouldnt do that … like you … you care if I live or die because that is your mission. All else comes second. Even your own life… there is no difference.”

“Prince, that's not why I… It’s not… there is a very large difference! And if the red lion were not a factor in this mission, maybe I would trust one of the other blades, but I don't want to take the chance that one of them could deem retrieving the red lion as more important than keeping you alive. I either go with you and possibly get caught and punished or you don’t go at all.”

“You're a Blade as much as any of the rest of them are and you have enough sense, or rather, the desire to prioritise my life, so why wouldn't they?!”

“Because they're different Lance…! I don't know how many other ways I can say it! They just… are.”

The prince huffed out a frustrated sigh, running long fingers through his white hair. “Ok…” He said tiredly, “So then maybe somehow they are different. Let's go with that for a moment, though, I will remind you, that it makes no sense. So they chose the lion over me. What if they’re right? Maybe taking the lion is the right choice!”

“The right- what are you even saying?!” Kethek growled. “If they left you behind they would have two lions and no pilots and that would get us nothing!”

“Wouldn't they be able to come to that conclusion too?!”

“No! They would choose the lion!”

“And how do you know that!”

“Because they don’t think like that Lance! It’s the mission first! There is no emotion involved!”

“I never said there would be emotion involved. And if by saying that, you claim to mean that somehow you have a larger capacity for emotion, that brings up another significant amount of questions, the first being, How the hell can you, a Galran that has a logical heart, claim that no other Galran in existence is like you?! And secondly, if emotion is necessary to be involved in this mission, why? I’d think that if the most logical decision is the right decision. Emotion shouldn't have to be involved at all!”

Kethek opened his mouth to fire off another argument when he suddenly stopped cold, seeing in his periphery that they were now joined by the queen who had silently entered.

Like something snapping within him, he clamped his mouth shut and straightened out to face her before bowing respectfully.

Lance then turns to her too, and his expression shifts into whatever semblance of neutrality he can muster. He stands to his feet from where he was previously slouched into his chair and straightens out his back.

The queen looks perplexed and slightly worried, though the only proof of her possibly having rushed here remains in the slightly more labored rise and fall of her chest. Other than that, she looks pristine, hair the furthest thing from tangled and dressed in a nightgown that’s pressed and unwrinkled. Kethek wonders if she had been sleeping at all.

“Allura, I-“ Lance begins just as the queen asks “what is the meaning of this.”

They both fall back into silence again, but the prince doesn’t wait for her to speak first, clearing his throat and leveling her with a serious stare. He wastes no time, getting straight to the point.

“The Galra have the red lion.” He says, His words clear and strong.

The queen's eyes widen as she looks at him.

“So you felt it too.” She whispers.

Lance then furrows his brows in question.

“You also had the dreams?”

And then Allura is giving him a confused look of her own.

“Dreams? No- I… just… felt the lion's presence. I remembered the feeling of it from my training with father. It was just a whisper of a thing, so I wasn’t sure if…” she stopped herself before she finishes, scowling a bit and instead looking to Lance. “You… had dreams?”

“Visions, more like.” Lance responds. “Vivid ones.”

“And they told you that the Galra have the lion?”

Lance nods.

Their dialogue is stiff. Even Kethek can feel it between them. Feel that somehow this isn’t how they would normally have conversed some time in the past. Perhaps it is his own presence in the room, but Kethek feels that it’s something different.

“Are you certain…?” She then asks.

“Completely.” He replies.

Allura sighed heavily at that, fear filling her eyes.

“I must go to it, Allura.” Lance says then, taking both Kethek and the queen by surprise.

“You what?” The queen asks, her voice a bite.

“I clearly have a connection to it... stronger than even you.” Lance defends. “If the Galra have the lion, you know they will spare no effort in finding a pilot.”

“Paladins are incredibly rare, Lance,” Allura says through her teeth. “You are one of three known ever in history. That and all paladins so far have held positions of power. It could even be that something like that is required of a paladin. We don’t know. The bottom line is that there have only been three, and our information is incredibly limited.”

“Yes paladins are rare. But one of them was Zakon himself!” Lance fights back. “So what we do know at least is that quintessence doesn’t discriminate between good and evil. Anyone could pilot the red lion. Obviously I know the odds, Allura. But it doesn’t mean that it isn’t possible. Even now my connection with the lion fades and if we do not act fast, we give them the opportunity to level the playing fields in this war, and I can not sit by and let that happen.”

“You know as well as I that father never intended for the hiding of the lions to be a permanent resolution. Nothing can escape the fate that is a lion and it’s paladin finding each other. No planet or star system can forever hide the power they possess. He would never have given us a way to find them if he didn’t want them to be found. He just had to do what was necessary at the time to allow Altea to reset and settle into the war. It is time now Allura. Zarkon will not end his search for the lions, or for a paladin, and we can’t give him the chance to find one.”

Allura looks pale. Her eyes expressing so much conflict that Kethek can feel it coming off her in waves. So he chose then to interject, swallowing down the ball of nerves in his throat before he spoke.

“I know Galra ships well, my queen. To an Altean, or to any other species that is, navigation would be near impossible without extensive ways around the security systems and that kind of technology know-how is possessed by few. I can easily procure ways for the prince and myself to get in unnoticed however as I have lived on many of these ships and know the patrol routes and proper protocol. All I would need are the updated verbal codes and the Blade of Marmora undoubtedly already has them. If all goes well, we could get in without a fight.”

Allura looks to him as though she had forgotten he was there and her face sours.

“And what of getting out?” She bit. “How are you to remove a lion from the ship without flying it? With its shields up?”

“If worst comes to worst, I have ways of destroying the ship from the inside. It is damage that the lion can withstand. We would remove the lion from the debris afterwards with the help of one of the Blades ships which we could hide nearby.”

Both Allura and Lance suddenly looked to him then with varying expressions of horror and the prince briefly recalls what Hunk had told him about Kethek’s previous mission where he’d sent an entire ships crew of what had to be somewhere around a thousand people to their deaths with only the help of a few other Blade members before flying the ship into a star.

A knot twisted inside his stomach at the thought and for what was surprisingly the first time in a while, Lance looks onto him with the slightest bit of fear.

This man who has had to do the unthinkable to make headway in this war. Who didn’t have a lion to reap the same level of destruction for him, nor the luxury of only having to view that destruction from afar. Kethek had to be up close and personal with death on what he could only imagine were countless occasions, and yet he holds himself in this way. Suggests such barbaric methods for extracting the lion without batting an eye.

Yet Lance never felt unsafe around him. Even in training, with knives held to his neck after a lost fight, Lance trusted him to never harm him. As soon as the fear registers in his brain, he feels guilty for it. Being so critical of Kethek and calling him barbaric when he himself had killed just as brutally, but in different ways. It was war. Lance did not enjoy it and could somewhat stomach it only because he knew that the ones he fought wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything he loves. To kill him and his people and anyone who stood outside of the Galra bloodline or held opposing beliefs without a shred of mercy. Because he knew he was fighting for the good of the universe and they were fighting to destroy it.

“What…” Allura then speaks, more slowly this time. “What are the options if worst does not come to worst?”

“We temporarily knock out only the guards and crewmen who intersect our path to the lion, and when we reach the lion we released it with the airlock. Using tractor beams, the blade of Marmora ships could transport the lion away from the cruiser regardless of the lions shields being up. Kethek replies easily. “If we do it right, I could get the prince through unseen. And, if I may add, the knowledge of his confinement in the castle is quite well known. His recent lack of presence in the war itself tipped off many foes to his location. Having him leave the palace in this case could actually give him protection in of itself. Though of course it would only be temporary. I understand and agree with you that if he is left exposed out of the protection of the royal guard, it could be detrimental, but in this specific circumstance it could actually benefit us to do something unexpected for a short time.”

And though Kethek prepares for an immediate rebuttal, it does not come. The Queen simply stares at Kethek, for a long, long moment, but Kethek does not shrink under her gaze. He remains unmoved as she considers him with mirth. Yet, she doesn’t seem completely unconvinced nonetheless. Kethek was right. She’s desperate and a flicker hope blossoms in his chest for Lance at the fact that she might actually agree.

She finally looked away from him and fixes her gaze back on her brother, her scrutiny still sharp.

“In any other circumstance, I would give a hard no, but if you truly had the visions you did, there is no mistake that the lion called you for help. Only you can go after her… I know this.”

“And only he can get me in and out.” The prince said, moving his hands to gesture at Kethek.

Allura’s eyes follow the motion, but she does not look back up to Kethek's eyes, keeping her gaze fixated on some distant point next to him.

With an incredibly heavy sigh and the squeeze of her eyes shut, she clenches her fists at her sides and looks back to Lance. “You have 10 vargas. If it takes any longer, I am tracking your location and having you removed.”

Lance’s eyes instantly lit up and his jaw dropped involuntarily. Kethek has to fight every muscle in his body to suppress a celebratory laugh.

“We have no other choice.” She breathes in explanation. “And no matter my hesitation to trust the Galra I must accept the necessary inclusion of your guard on this mission, and the importance his help has on the success of it. But you have no more than 10 vargas. You must wormhole a safe distance away so as to not be detected and get in unseen, which will extend the time it takes to get to the lion, but that’s all I will allow.”

Lance quickly managed to shut his jaw and nodded curtly, presumably not voicing or showing any of his surprise in the effort to keep her from changing her mind.

“If that is the plan, I must suggest taking a Galran ship.” Kethek added. “Sending any of your vessels into Galran occupied territory would be very dangerous. I can contact the Blade of Marmora to assist us. They will be able to provide us with a Galran fighter. And assuming that you will not want more Galra entering Altea in the hopes of keeping this mission discreet and not creating fear for your people, I would suggest that we retrieve the ship from headquarters.”

“Where is the Marmoran headquarters?” Allura asked.

“The headquarter locations are to remain undisclosed. I am not at liberty to share the coordinates with you. We, however, would ask a pilot stationed at headquarters to bring the ship to us. Not in the atmosphere, but close enough that you could still make a wormhole for us to exit from. I’m thinking perhaps one of Altea’s moons.”

“So we would go to the moon, wait for a Blade pilot to bring us a Galran ship, and then proceed through the wormhole on that ship to the coordinates.” Lance summarized.

“Yes, but with the short notice, it could take a bit of time for them to get to us.” We could have to wait on the moon for a varga or so until they reach us.

“Well it will have to do. I will not have my brother going anywhere I can not follow. Nevertheless, it is decided. Meet me in the hanger when all the necessary means for your mission are procured. I will fetch Coran and put together a set of staff to monitor your travels.”

With that, she turned sharply to head out of the door, haste in her every step. The door shut tightly behind her and for a few moments, Kethek and Lance sat in silence.

When Kethek turned to look at the prince, he visibly looked to be hyperventilating, his eyes basically bulging out of his skull.

“Did she just ... agree??” Lance breathed. “Was that what that was??”

Kethek just nodded when the prince looked to him, looking overwhelmed with the success.

“She sees the reason in your argument, it seems.” Kethek offered. “There are only so many options when a situation like this is presented.”

And then Lance was shooting up out of his chair and onto his feet. Hands gripped at his sides in fists.

“We could get the red lion back.” He muttered under his breath. “We could… we could get all of them back!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, prince. This is an incredibly precarious mission.”

“I know, but Kethek!” Lance said, a grin now blooming on his lips. He turned to him and seemingly instinctually reached out for the guards hands to squeeze them, excitement brimming from his every angle.

Kethek fought down a blush from the contact and stood firm, letting the prince become giddy and squeeze his hands tighter.

“I can be useful!” He breathed, a new wetness coating his eyes just slightly. “I can help...!”

“Highness…” Kethek said disapprovingly, a scowl on his face. “You are always useful.”

“Not like this… this actually matters Kethek. And oh- if we find a paladin?? That would be incredible!”

“You heard what the queen said, don’t get your hopes up. This is a retrieval mission and nothing else. If anything, it’s a defensive move. Don’t expect to get any offense from it.”

Then Lance’s face mellowed and he was looking back at the ground, even though he still seemed undisturbed by Kethek's voice of reason.

“But I’m already losing my connection….” he breathed. “I don’t even have a clear memory of what the coordinates I saw in my dream were. Maybe I can guesstimate, but even if I’m close it could be too far off…”

And for only a moment the prince looked concerned, but before Kethek could even offer an idea to help, Lance was gasping with realization.

“The pod!!!” He said, nearly screaming. “It was the first place I went. When you found me, and lectured me l… I completely forgot! I typed the coordinates into the pods navigation systems!! They should still be there!”

And then, in a flash of sudden movement that Kethek was beginning to associate very much with the prince, he was being dragged by the hand Lance had been squeezing in a rush out the door.

Kethek didn’t have to ask to know where they were going, and let himself be pulled along, still managing to keep his eyes sharp as they moved through the halls in spite of their rushed pace.

Lance had basically bolted into the hanger and onto the ship, so fast that Kethek could barely keep up with him.

When he made it into the cabin he could see Lance in the pilots seat punching buttons with his finger to get the ship's controls to come back online. And when the screens finally lit up in that classic Altean teal blue light, Kethek could hear Lance breath a heavy sigh of relief.

“It’s here.” He said quietly. “Everything’s here. We have a shot.” And then he was fumbling around the ship's compartments for a pen and paper and scribbling down the numbers “just to be safe.”

“Those are the coordinates? You’re certain?”

“I’m certain.” The prince said, and dammit all- he was smiling. Breathy and relieved. Looking almost at the point of tears.

“Kethek, I’m going to recover my father's lion…! Bring it back for Altea. I can bring it home.”

“You can.” Kethek made sure to emphasize. “But anything could happen out there. Don’t bet on this chance, highness.”

Lance pouted.

“You’re such a killjoy, Kethek.” He scoffed petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest and straightening his back with indignance.

“I promise you, my prince… Lance… I will do whatever is in my power to help retrieve the lion. But I will not risk your life under any circumstances. I will leave the lion behind in the effort to keep you safe if I need to.”

Lance pouted again, but it was serious this time, his arms dropping down to his sides.

“I know I can’t win this argument. He said finally, letting out a sigh. So let’s just pretend that my danger isn’t even an option and that we’ll be successful.”

“I can not do tha-“

“I know!” Lance whispered, though his voice carried a small bite, hands going immediately up to clasp Kethek’s where they had been at his sides. “I know, Kethek. Just pretend. For me, ok? For me.”

Kethek presses his lips together, his focus admittedly having shifted from the dialogue to where Lance’s hands held his, but he managed a nod nonetheless. It was dishonest. But Lance has asked him to pretend. So he would. For him.

Lance gave him yet another soft, dazzling smile, his face gentle and sweet and his eyes shining.

“Let’s go meet Allura?” He said then, straightening back up and dropping one of Kethek’s hands to gesture at the exit of the cockpit.

“We need to make one stop first.” Kethek replied.

Lance furrowed his brow but followed Kethek out.

Lance knew the halls in his castle well enough to know where they were headed after the first few minutes of walking, and the prospect was one that unexpectedly made Lance nervous.

Kethek was taking him to his quarters. A place he had never been. Let alone remotely thought of. The guy spent so much of his time breathing down his back that Lance often forgot that his guard had a space of his own, considering how often he was all up in his.

But the prospect of being brought into Kethek’s personal space. Seeing Kethek’s belongings… where he slept and let down his guard- well if he actually ever did let down his guard. If he did, this would be where it happened, and it felt ... meaningful somehow. Important. Like that whole ‘being friends’ thing they had talked about would become more than just an idea after he entered that space.

From the quick glances of the side of Kethek’s face that he allowed himself, it seemed as though his guard was having no such contemplations about the gravity of this situation though, so maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be.

Lance tried to act casual when they arrived, and Kethek unlocked his door, which opened to the standard quarters that there were about 50 replicas of down this hall of the castle alone. But that was just it. Except for the pile of neatly folded clothing on the table next to the bed, and a glass of water on the counter, the room was completely lacking in any personality. It looked as though nobody was actively living here at all.

It struck something in Lance’s chest that he wasn’t quite able to place right away as he stepped inside, somewhat disappointed to not be given any more hints to who Kethek was as a person outside of being his guard that bedrooms usually gave. This felt stale. Hollow…. this felt incorrect somehow. There was almost nothing of character in the room at all.

“Lance.” Kethek’s voice suddenly came into his consciousness, his tone possibly insinuating that he had said his name several times before Lance noticed.

Lance looked to him and saw Kethek’s face twisted with a weird- tense sort of frown.

“I didn’t bring you in here to kill you, you can calm down.” He said.

Lance’s eyes immediately went wide and he actually started to panic.

“Oh- no- no no, that’s not what- I wasn’t- I didn’t mean that -“

And then, maybe for the first time ever? Kethek cracked the smallest of smiles and gave a huff of air that sounded an awful lot like a chuckle.

“I know.” He said, “I’m messing with you. But seriously, you look tense.”

Kethek?? Messing with him??? Maybe this room had more in it than Lance had initially realized.

“It’s alright.” Lance assured, shaking off his surprise. “Just getting lost in thought. What did you bring me in here for?”

Kethek nodded, respecting Lance’s words by believing them true and moved right along.

“You’ll need to wear one of my uniforms if you want to blend in.” Kethek explained. “I still have mine from my time undercover in the Galra ranks.

Kethek then proceeded to push the panel on the wall that opened the hidden closet that all standard rooms in the castle were equipped with and at the first glance, Lance went white, his body growing stiff.

“These are yours?” Lance asked cautiously. And when Kethek nodded, it made his stomach knot with even more unease.

Seeing the terribly recognizable uniforms and the sharp Galran emblem etched in magenta onto the surface of each one instantly made Lance’s stomach a bit sick. These uniforms were worn by tyrants and murderers. The idea of Kethek having worn these uniforms at one point time, as well as the prospect of wearing one himself was unpleasant to say the least.

The jagged purple, slightly glowing emblems of the ranks stood out jarringly from the dark grey armor he had come to know so well. It was violent to even look at, every association he’d had with these suits being one of pain or danger.

To imagine Kethek in one of these suits… Golden eyes and glowing emblem… again, Lance felt a pang of fear in association with Kethek. One that he tried to wipe away as quickly as it came and replace with logic.

Kethek had worn these suits in defiance of the Galran empire. He had worn them during undercover missions where he turned on people who saw him as allies. He had worn them to fight for freedom and peace, not enslavement and in the effort to conquer. Kethek was good. I’d didn’t matter how much he fit the bill for looking like the perfect Galra soldier when Lance imagined him in this armor. Kethek was good. He wouldn’t hurt him.

Kethek must have seen the look on his face because his frown deepened.

“They’re not a pretty sight, I know. But they’ll get us in and out safer.”

Lance swallowed but nodded, shaking his head to try and physically remove the thoughts from his head.

“Of course.” He said, collecting his witts.

There were three suits. All different. One with the Galran emblem for lieutenant with a full helmet and one lieutenant uniform with a half helmet- one that hid everything above the nose. The other uniform, Lance was shocked to see, held the symbol for commander. A high rank for a spy of all people to have achieved. The amount of trust and time required to make it that high up the ranks while secretly working on a different agenda was, frankly, a mind boggling feat.

“We can’t use this one.” He said, planing a hand on the commanders uniform. “We need to lay low. My only concern is that an officer could ask you to remove your helmet if things get hairy. We’ll have to think of cover so that-“

Lance chuckled then, causing Kethek to stop what he was saying and look up to Lance confusedly.

“Kethek, I’m Altean, remember? Blending in won’t be a problem.”

And then, to emphasize his point, he closed his eyes and willed himself to shift his skin and height. He looked to be a half breed at best, his markings and ears still showing and his skin smooth and very much like an Alteans, but his coloring was that of a Galran, and it took Kethek’s breath away.

“Oh…” he said, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. “I forgot you could do that.”

“How do I look??” Lance grinned. “It’s been a while since I’ve done a Galran.”

“How long can you hold that for?” Kethek asked to avoid answering the prince's question.

“A good few vargas. But I have good stamina, so that helps. Some Altean’s get exhausted after just one varga. It takes a bit of effort. Nothing I can’t handle though, I promise.”

“Ok, we’ll use it sparingly either way. We can’t take risks.”

He grabbed one of the uniform pieces- the chest plate- and handed this to him.

“Put this on. Let it fit to your size. I’ll go and put mine on in the bathroom.”

Lance was going to say that it wasn’t necessary for them to have to separate. That there wasn’t anything that Kethek hadn’t already seen of him. Albeit unwillingly, but then he got to thinking about how it would feel if they stayed together and changed, and Lance felt suffocated just at the thought.

Choosing not to dwell on why, Lance just nodded and let Kethek go, taking the armor in his hands and feeling the knots twist tighter in his stomach. He dressed himself into the suit carefully and when Kethek’s knock came to check if he was ready, Lance called out that he could come in, steeling himself for what he would see.

The suit looked like it fit well on Kethek, both physically and in terms of him not looking out of place wearing it like Lance did. He looked like a Galra soldier, and yet again it made him uncomfortable.

“Wow.” Kethek said. “The crown prince of Altea, a Galran lieutenant. That’s something I didn’t expect to ever see.”

It was a joke. Another joke from Kethek. Talking about the irony of it all. And it was ironic. Funny even. So Lance smiled.

“Do I look fearsome?” He asked, puffing out his chest in an effort to make himself feel more light hearted.

“Not in the slightest, my prince.” Kethek replied. A small- tiny- almost not there smile on his lips. But if all goes well, nobody will have to look at either of our faces.

“Would anyone be able to recognize you?” Lance asked.

“If we were going back to the ships I was stationed on, yes. Without a doubt. I wasn’t high profile enough to be recognized anywhere else though. But somebody from my ship could have transferred, which means we really have no guarantee I won’t know anyone where we’re going. It’s better just to be safe and keep covered up. I didn’t exactly leave the ranks in high respects, so if someone did recognize me, that would be bad.”

“What would you do if someone did?” Lance asked innocently.

Kethek’s frown deepened slightly at the question and he straightened his back. “Let's ... not think about what would have to happen… let’s focus on making sure our plan goes according to plan.”

He said it cautiously. Swallowing afterwards, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

His reaction said enough. He would have to kill them. Lance knows. And it’s why Kethek doesn’t want to answer. Kethek has probably done it before. Several times maybe. So Lance doesn’t push. Not wanting to open up any potential scars.

“Come on.” He said then, moving to head out the door. “We’ll be late meeting the queen if we don’t get going.”

Lance nodded and followed after him, strangely finding it hard to look away from his guard. Entranced with studying the minuscule flickers of emotions that passed over his eyes.

“Do you need something?” Kethek said suddenly, eyes flicking in his direction and catching Lance off guard enough that he stumbled a little while walking and had to clear his throat to try and recover, feeling awkward.

“No.” He said, not bothering to explain further, knowing Kethek wouldn’t ask him to. He was just going to leave it at that.

Luckily they didn’t have to dwell on it for long, because they were quickly rounding the corner to the hanger they were to be meeting Coran and the queen in.

Both Alteans upon first glance at them jumped in alarm at the uniforms they both dawned.

But before Allura could spit out accusations, Kethek knelt to the ground. An arm over his chest in true Galra fashion.

“My queen.” He said respectfully. His head bowed and his words sincere. “I have provided the prince with one of my uniforms from my time as a spy. They will serve as the safest form of cover for when we board the Galran ship.

The queen swallowed, eyes flicking uncomfortably around the details of the suit.

“Very smart of you, Kethek!” Coran chirped, filling the silence. “It was rather jarring to see them so close, but that should mean they’ll serve as a perfect disguise. Well done.”

“Yes…” Allura said lowly.. “The suits should be sufficient. But your caution must remain high in spite of that at all times.”

“I have put together a team that will monitor your trip, and outfitted your ship with a few defensive tools to assist you if need be.” Coran continued. “You shouldn’t be needing them as you’ll only be using this trip to get to Paxia but it’s better to be safe than sorry, as I always say!”

“Thank you, Coran.” Kethek said.

“Is everything ready to go then?” Lance spoke up, looking to his sister.

But rather than respond, she pursed her lips. “Lance, go prepare the ship for flight.” She said.

Lance furrowed his brow but moved to comply nonetheless, walking up the ramp with one last glance over his shoulder.

When he was gone, Allura steeled herself and then turned to Kethek, glare strong.

“I do not trust you.” She said bluntly, eyes burning with intensity. “If we were under different circumstances, this would never be happening. So just know that if you step even the slightest bit out of line, I will kill you myself. I have hundreds of people waiting on my word to take you out so don’t get any ideas.”

She started at Kethek with fierce glare, but he did not back down. Refused to. He met her gaze with a look of equal intensity and waited for her to calm down.

When she at least felt that her message was received she stood down and sighed, long and annoyed.

“Kethek… I’m asking you… as the queen ... but also as the sister of a man that I care too deeply for to lose. Please keep Lance safe. At any cost. You promised to lay down your life for this mission. I expect you to keep that promise. And if you don’t, I’ll take your life for you.”

“You have my word, your majesty.”

Allura rolled her eyes. “What good is the word of a Galra…”

And with that, Kethek literally wanted to scream. He was sick of this. Sick and tired of never pushing back on anything the queen said. So he took a risk.

“Your majesty, with all due respect. You are asking me for my word. If you place no value in it, then why do you stand here, begging me to keep the prince safe. Something that I have already promised you several times that I would do without question.”

“The day you lie dead on the ground in the effort to save my brother is the day I will believe your words. Not a moment sooner. Only then will I believe the Galra to be any bit as truthful as you so claim to be.”

“But we should hope that it never comes to that!” Coran stepped in quickly. “Isn’t that right Allura?”

Allura didn’t respond. Just huffed and turned away.

“I’m going to check in with mission control.” She said. “Make sure everything’s in order. Don’t leave until you hear my word.”

Kethek nodded at her retreating form, mostly for Coran to see as he knew the queen would not, nor would she care.

With a nod back from Coran, Kethek walked up the ramp to the ship after Lance, turning to retract the entrance and close the doors before he settled in.

He found the prince standing in the cabin, hands folded in front of him, looking sheepish.

“I’ve entered the coordinates to the moon, and plotted our course from where Allura will open a wormhole that we can transfer to the Galran ship. So we’re all set to go…”

“On her command only.” Kethek said, repeating what the queen had told him.

“Yes, of course.”

A few moments more passed, and Lance, as Kethek had been expecting he would, opened his mouth hesitant to speak again, the air feeling tense and awkward.

“Kethek, I heard…. I heard what she told you and-“

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for her, your highness. I do not take her words to heart. She and I have the same goal whether or not it feels like it. So long as we share that goal, you will be kept safe, and that is what’s most important.”

Lance blushed. Kethek couldn’t miss the tint in his cheeks and the wide eyed, nervous hand twisting that made him look a bit flustered.

He knew that the prince wanted to tell him to remember to consider his own safety. That he was important too, no matter what his sister said. He’d told him something similar several times before. The knowledge of that alone was enough.

And Lance knew the topic would only lead them into an argument, so he sat down and folded his hands on his lap, casting his gaze to the floor and looking deep in thought. Like he was sitting on a mountains worth of unspoken words.

After a few minutes, Allura’s voice called through the coms, and Kethek stood to go to the cockpit, Lance following behind him, a new sparkle in his eyes.

“You are clear to launch.” She instructed. “Fly to the border where the shield is. Your ship will automatically create an opening in it so you can fly through, but that operation will not work on the way back for safety reasons. We will discuss reentry when you return. For now, just make it to the moon. I’m ready to prepare a wormhole as soon as you are set up in the Galran ship.”

The prince, who was sitting down in the pilot's chair, pressed a button on the coms to respond with a “copy that.” And started to power up the thrusters and lift them into flight.

It took Kethek a minute to notice with the angle being that he didn’t have a clear shot of his face, but the prince was grinning, his chest rising and falling excitedly and his eyes alight with an excitement that brimmed from deep inside of him.

This was his passion. This, to him, was freedom and joy and excitement. It was everything he had been denied for the past several months. It had been the thought that he might never do this again that had made him act out and feel depressed enough to drink himself into a stupor.

But suddenly, he had been given this unexpected chance for adventure again, and Kethek could see how healing it was, just from the light in his eyes that Kethek hadn’t seen since that first night he’d found him with Hunk in the Blue Lions hanger.

Lance very obviously knew what he was doing. Each button and its purpose memorized precisely. Lance had been waiting for a moment like this. And Kethek was glad that he was able to have it while he was still by his side. That he could feel some sense of freedom while they were still tied together.

Lance lifted the ship smoothly out of the hanger and over the Altean planet, up towards the shield that surrounded it. They didn’t even have to pause when they arrived. Just like the queen had said, a small portion of the barrier retracted as soon as they flew threw it, and closed back up once they were passed.

“We’re clear.” Lance said into the coms. “20 doboshes till’ touchdown on Paxia.”

Kethek watched as Lance pushed the ship to move faster, eventually reaching a speed used in deep space travel once he was far enough away from the planet. Paxia was the closest moon out of the ones orbiting Altea, and served as an extra layer of safety. It was a hub for surveillance undeterred by Altea’s atmosphere and used security measures equal to Altea as it was constantly under threat of attack- invaders wanting to use its resources to weaken Altean defense. Kethek had read all about it when he was doing research after being given this mission.

Lance, when he asked him, said he’d been to the moon several times before for missions and routine checks. He’d taken this trip dozens of times and it showed in the instinctive movements that he was displaying.

It wasn’t long before they’d reached the moon, Lance communicating with the security on its surface before entry and landing the ship on a clear plot of land rather than in the hanger.

This mission was being kept on the down low, even to most of the community on the moon, with only a few necessary supervisors being aware of the exchange that was going to happen. It was more discreet that way because people didn’t go outside on the moon unless they had to. They stayed in massive buildings with oxygen and gravity controls. This meant that when the Blade operative arrived, they could make the switch relatively easily without turning any Altean heads.

Kethek had instructed the blade operative he’d contacted on where to meet them and the security procedures they would face. The blade was supposed to wait on the moon in the Altean pod for the duration of their mission, monitoring the situation. If anything went ary and their cover was blown, they would take the pod, and assist the Altean defenses in evacuating the prince.

For now though, they had to wait. Kethek wasn’t certain on just how long it would be until the operative arrived, so he and Lance moved to sit in the cabin. It was uncomfortably quiet for a few long moments, Kethek unsure if he should start a conversation or remain quiet.

But out of the silence filling the cabin, Lance eventually spoke up. A little hesitant, as though he was unsure if he should speak too, but firm.

“Why are your quarters so empty? Did you not expect to live with so much space?” He’d asked, genuinely curious, and most likely desperate to eliminate the quiet that was starting to suffocate the both of them.

Kethek looked a little taken aback by the sudden questions, his eyes widened just slightly. “Uh... I- it’s not- no, I just... I don’t have a lot of belongings.” He answered, ever so eloquently. “But I guess, yeah, I’ve never had that big of a space to fill before. Not for very long anyways.”

“Oh.” The prince replied. Well, it seems as though you’re going to be on Altea for a while.. maybe we should get you some… stuff.”

Kethek quirked an eyebrow and looked at Lance. “What?”

“Well- I’m just saying- it’s really sad and ugly in there.” Maybe it could make you feel more at home if you had something there that was yours. Give it some personality. I mean, if you have a personality… do you? Have a personality? I really haven’t been able to tell.” Lance said this while he suppressed a teasing smile from his lips without much success. Kethek rolled his eyes, fighting a small smile of his own.

“And for a moment there I thought we were getting along.”

“Us getting along is up to you. I’m just saying it like it is.”

Then Lance gasped.

“Maybe we could go into market! I could take you around and show you all of my favorite local shops! We could… I don’t know, disguise you somehow so that the people wouldn’t freak out when they saw you. And they’re always offering me discounts because I’m the prince and stuff. I usually don’t accept them, but I could this time so that you can get whatever you like!”

The prince kept rattling off ideas with light sparkling in his eyes, while Kethek looked unto him sadly. This mission ... perhaps it was giving him false hope. Hope that things would change after this. That the freedom he was finally getting a taste of again would not immediately be ripped from him as soon as they got back.

The prince was not dumb though. He knew very well the circumstances he was in and the determination of his sister to protect him. So Kethek took this little rambling as Lance indulging in his impossible fantasies at a time where he felt free enough that he could pretend he believed that they would happen. And it was sad. To watch him tell Kethek of the juniberry fields covering the Altean countryside and the hours they could spend there together when they got back. How he would help him decorate his room with the stuff they would collect on their adventures outside the castle walls. How they could go to the hills behind the castle at night where Lance said the stars were always brightest.

In a very sad way, Lance was homesick… in spite of being on his home planet all the time. He understood more of why he felt like a prisoner in the castle. Why he got drunk on too many bottles of nunvill and had such disdain for Kethek when he first arrived.

Kethek found himself wishing that he could do all the things Lance was saying with him. And in that same instant, he went still, a cold feeling of anxiety flooding him at the thought.

This was dangerous and he knew it. Kethek was getting to close. He was caring too much. He was letting his guard down and every second he let it happen was a risk to Lance’s life. He’d already made a mistake. He’d already indulged too much. Let himself become distracted and almost didn’t see the signs of an impending attack yesterday at the kitchens. So he snapped himself out of it as quickly as he could.

“You’re being delusional, your highness.” He said sternly. “As soon as we go back, everything stays the same. You will not be permitted out of the castle walls.”

Kethek wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did when the light and joy Lance had been displaying was literally sucked out of him the instant that the words left his mouth. He wished with his entire being that he’d not been affected by the hurt that filled Lance’s eyes. By the way he seemed to shrink in on himself.

“I-“ he stuttered, his voice sounding close to breaking. “I just thought-“ but then he stops himself, squeezing his eyes shut and looking pained. He breathed in a shaky sigh and stood up. He whispered a quiet “nevermind,” and shuffled out of the cabin to sit back in the cockpit.

Kethek lets him go. Trying desperately to remove the heart ripping pain from his chest. To remind himself that he had to do it. That it was Lance’s safety at stake.

Nevertheless he whispers a quiet “I’m sorry.” Under his breath. He can’t let Lance hear it, but he doesn’t feel right to say nothing at all.

The rest of the time that they wait is just like that. Lance sitting quietly in the cockpit and Kethek stomping desperately on the feelings trying to compel him to go to him and let Lance indulge. To let him dream and assure him that someday he would be free again. But he stays in the cabin, instead occupying himself with checking his communicator every three ticks to see if the Blade operative had arrived yet.

When he finally does get a message, he nearly jumps to his feet.

“They’re here.” He tells Lance.

When Lance gets up, he looks blank. The hurt that had previously been on his face now completely gone. He puts on his Galran helmet in silence, and they both prepare themselves for the zero oxygen environment.

Lance doesn’t say it, and he doesn’t dare show it, not after the mess of what had just happened, but he’s very nervous. He doesn’t want Kethek to think that he’s afraid because they’re meeting another Galra, but it’s more true than not.

Lance is beginning to trust Kethek. He understands that not all Galra are murdering tyrants now, but that doesn’t eliminate his hesitations in seeing another one. He knows Kethek. That’s the difference. So he keeps his mouth shut and moves out of the ship behind his guard.

The image he’s greeted with is one for the history books. About 6 altean guards stationed on the moon stand, weapons at the ready as they emerge. In front of them: a Galra fighter jet.

It’s a ship he only has associations of terror and pain with. Just like Kethek’s suits, only this is fully loaded with world destroying weaponry and is a lot, lot bigger up close than he’d imagined.

Lance swallows, but reluctantly takes comfort in Kethek’s strong, steady presence beside him. He feels safe at his side, no matter how much he wishes he doesn’t rely on him. No matter how much he is kinda mad at him or knows that he’s a business before anything kinda guy, he takes comfort in his presence, knowing he’d feel much differently if Kethek was not there.

Then, a hulking figure emerges from the fighter. The Blade is huge. A trait Lance somewhat forgot is typical for the Galra.

It’s in that moment that Lance is reminded of just how small Kethek is in comparison to the rest of his species, and it’s weird. Lance finds himself wondering why.

But when they approach the Blade, even though Kethek has to look up at him as he’s nearly two heads taller, he stands strong and intimidating on his own in a way that makes him look just as big as his colleague. What Kethek doesn’t have in size, he makes up for completely in intimidation alone.

“Haiva.” He says by way of greeting.

“Kethek.” The Blade says back.

Their mask concealed most every feature of their body except for their size and Lance is reminded also that Kethek is special in that he rarely wears his Blade mask at all. From what little he knows of the rest of the Blade, it’s that most all of them constantly wear a mask. Kethek probably would too had he not been under Allura’s strict orders to hide nothing from her.

Lance thinks, however, that even with his mask, Kethek would be able to be picked out in a crowd simply for his height and wonders if that had ever been a point of danger for him. That he could be recognized easily because of what Lance assumed was unusual height for a Galra.

The mask doesn’t seem to obscure much between Blades though. They both addressed each other by name. Lance wonders how they can tell each other apart.

When the Blade turns to Lance, three glowing mask eyes turned in him in an eerie sort of way, Lance finds himself moving closer to Kethek in fear. But the Blade kneels to the ground. A forearm coming to rest across their chest, just like Kethek had done when he first arrived, and continues to do when greeting Allura.

“Your majesty.” The Blade says in Altean. “It is truly an honor.”

“Thank you for your assistance with this mission.” Lance replied, his voice surprisingly even.

The Blade stands back to full height and nods. “Yes, I will assist in any way you need. The ship is ready for your trip, newly outfitted with repairs and extra defenses.”

“Then we better be on our way.” Kethek said. “We don’t have much time.”

The Blade nodded again and without another word, they walked past each other, the Blade to the pod, followed by four of the six Altean guards, and Kethek and Lance to the fighter, watched by the other two guards.

Approaching the ship sent butterflies through Lance’s stomach. But he remained steady, not letting his hesitations to board the vessel show. Still he stays close to Kethek, begrudgingly accepting that he feels safer when in close proximity to him.

The inside of the ship is full of red light. The controls glow purple and the interior coloring of the walls and floor is as dark and intimidating as it is on the outside. Lance felt a bit like he’d been swallowed into the belly of a dragon. He’s only ever seen these ships from the outsiders. It feels a bit surreal to now be inside of one.

This time, Kethek takes the helm, plugging in Lance’s coordinates and starting up the fighter in preparation for flight. The controls are all in Galran, which Lance can only barely read, most of it just looking like gibberish to him, but Kethek punches different buttons quickly, looking somewhat tense as he does so.

“We’re ready for takeoff.” He says into the coms. “Your clear.” Another voice calls back.

“I am opening the wormhole now.” Allura voice sounds suddenly, Lance’s ears perking to listen. “It will take you to the Farlazir belt which is about a half a varga from the listed coordinates. The gravity shifts in the area you enter should give you cover for most of the trip.”

“Understood.” Kethek replied. “Beginning takeoff now.” The ship rumbled only slightly as it lifted from the ground. And then they’re off, just like last time, flying through the planetary shield and then towards a growing wormhole.

Lance here’s Kethek breathe in a small gasp, so quiet he almost missed it. Lance comes to join him behind the pilots seat, looking out the window at his sisters wormhole. The way that the stars seem to swirl towards its center and warp reality, the glowing ring circling the outside visibly full of magic... it really was an incredible feat to witness. Lance had gotten into the habit of taking it for granted and forgot that someone like Kethek would see it as something fascinating.

“Pretty cool, huh?” He decides to say, giving Kethek a smile.

“I’ve never been through one before.” Kethek says softly.

“It might make you a bit sick at first.” Lance replies. “Takes some getting used to.”

They breach the wormhole only moments after and are swept up into a swirling flurry of space, stars spiraling and lights flashing in dazzling bursts before they exit on the other side. It was like going through a tunnel. A trippy, space tunnel that distorts reality and punctures space time. The wormhole jostled the ship in a way that was hard to feel in the moment, but as soon as they exit, Kethek puts a hand over his stomach, most likely surprised by the nausea he feels there.

“Guess you’re right…” he says.

And then they’re both looking out at the scene in front of them. There are meteors floating in big clumps to their right and empty space to their left with maybe a few small planets in the distance. It takes Lance only a moment to look past the objects in their path and see the unmistakable silhouette of a Galra cruiser in the distance.

Lance gasps then, without really thinking, and grasps Kethek’s upper arm with one hand, using his other to point out the ship.

“There!” He says. “Oh my gosh, my vision was right! There’s a ship right there!”

Kethek looks in the direction Lance’s finger is pointing and his eyes narrow.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

He says it with a certain lilt to his voice that Lance can’t place, but the confusion regarding it is quickly overrun with more panic.

“Oh my god, Kethek, we actually found it. We’re actually going to infiltrate a Galran cruiser…”

“Well yeah,” Kethek said, furrowing his brow. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“I just- it didn’t really hit me until now I guess?”

The prince looked panicked, his hair sticking up at all ends with the amount of times he’d raked his fingers through it.

“It’ll be fine, highness.” Kethek assured. “We’ll be in and out if all things go according to plan. I know my way around.”

“But we’re actually doing this!” Lance’s chest started to heave just at the thought.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Kethek asked.

“What? No! No. I’m just…. I’m just thinking about what our best course of action is from here.”

“Well we’re going to have to play it smart. We’ll enter just as any fighter jet would, through the hanger doors at the lower ends of the ship. Once we’re in, I’ll get out first while you stay in the ship. The hanger will be monitored by several Galran centuries and there is likely to be some lieutenants there too. I will get off the ship and quarantine the hanger, keeping the doors shut so that I can release this.”

Kethek pulled out a cylindrical metal container with rounded edges and handed it to the prince to observe.

“What is it?” He asked.

“That's nitrous oxide gas.” If I release it in the hanger, it will knock out every living thing for a good few vargas.”

“And what of the centuries?”

“Those I’ll take out the old fashioned way. Hopefully we won’t need to be on the ship long enough for it to be discovered that the room is locked off and the centuries inside are destroyed.”

“Ok then, so how are we going to get out of the hanger if it has to be locked off for the gas to stay in the room and how are we going to be immune to the gas?”

“We have these.” Kethek replied, grabbing a helmet attachment that clasped over the mouth of the Galran mask.

“It’s a filter. Should keep us safe from being knocked out too. As for getting out the locked door, I’ll program an override into the lock so that we’re the only ones who can make it in and out.”

“And once we’re out?”

“Once we’re out, I’ll ask you which way you think we should go to get to the lion, following your connection to it, and when you give me a direction, I’ll take us that way on the safest route possible that I know.”

“Ok.” Lance replied, clearly seeing that Kethek had this meticulously planned out.

And just like that, they were going in. Kethek flew the Galra ship towards the cruiser and the closer they got, the more panic consumed Lance. The ship was gigantic. Hulking and so large that it made Lance feel like an insect about to be stepped on. He’d never been this close to a cruiser without being shot at and it was both fascinating and terrifying.

And if just being within its vicinity wasn’t already scary enough, suddenly a voice rang through the coms and made Lance jump out of his skin.

Kethek sent him a side eye before focusing his attention. It was a Galra voice speaking through the coms. And not a nice one. It wasn’t one of the Blades. This voice did not belong to a Galra that would bow at his feet and tell him they were honored to meet him. This was the voice of a Galra that would make a sport out of all the ways they could gut him. A Galra who wouldn’t hesitate to drive a weapon through his heart and cheer victoriously as he died on the floor.

It made Lance sick to his stomach enough that he felt like he’d throw up. But then Kethek’s voice filled the silence after in response. A voice of someone who had never once tried to harm him. Who threw down his life to protect him. Who was gentle and caring deep, deep down under his many layers of defense. Kethek was good, and Lance probably would have been panicking to the point of being unable to function if he wasn’t here with him, offering a sense of safety and comfort with his presence.

From the little bit of Galran Lance understood, he the Galran on the coms had asked Kethek for some kind of code, which Kethek replied to with an answer that was obviously correct, because soon enough, a hanger door on the side of the ship that they were near opened and Kethek turned the ship to enter through it without blinking an eye.

They entered a room with high ceilings and greyish purple industrial metal walls. Bands of magenta light lit up the room at its corners and next to the door Lance could see in the back of the hanger. There were a combination of what looked to be centuries and a few soldiers who stood at the perimeter of the walls, weapons on their hips.

Kethek landed the fighter and then was quickly leaving the cockpit to go to a panel in the side of the cabin. He typed in a code of some kind written in Galran and then pressed a button that made the panel disappear into the wall like it had never been there.

“What was that?” Lance asked.

“A virus that the Blade developed. Shuts down all the security cameras in any room one of our ships enters and replaces it with another video that looks normal. I can get rid of the guard unseen now.”

“Just you?” Lance questioned.

“Yes.” Kethek replied. “I’m not allowing you to fight any battles that you don’t have to. I’ll take out the guard and you stay here until I come back for you.”

In another situation, Lance would have protested, not wanting Kethek to have to fight battles for him, but this was a bit different. Kethek knew what he was doing and Lance didn’t want to mess him up. For this trip, he’d let him do whatever he felt they needed to do.

Kethek wasted no time. He grabbed a metal tube of the knockout gas from a compartment in the wall and donned his helmet and the mask that would filter out the gas.

Like this, Kethek looked just like every other Galra soldier he’d ever seen and Lance had to actively remind himself that there was no need to feel threatened because it was just Kethek. Under all that terrifying armor was someone he trusted.

And then he was off. He opened the door and rolled out the gas tube in front of him before the door shut behind him as he exited.

He couldn’t see anything that was going on. Lance just had to wait blindly inside the door anxiously, listening to the grunts and soft thumps of noise. But thankfully he only had to wait a moment for Kethek to come back and peek his head in.

“We’re clear.” He said, “Come on, we have to move fast.”

Putting on his helmet and mask, Lance peeked out from behind the ship door to see a bunch of knocked out Galran soldiers and a few chopped in half centuries all lying on the floor in the corner of a room, chained to a pole that was well hidden behind what looked to be shipping boxes. Kethek really moves fast.

Seeing Lance’s hesitance, Kethek nodded his assurance. “I promise you, they’re all taken care of.”

So Lance stepped down, his feet hitting the floor of the hanger with an echoing, scary thump.

He was here. On a galran ship. With Kethek. They had actually made it in.

“What now?” He asked.

“Now, it's your turn. Can you sense the lion here?”

Lance closed his eyes, concentrating on something Kethek couldn't see or feel for himself. Instead he watched the furrow in the princes brow increase in depth and the tightness of his mouth narrow into a thinner and thinner line.

“She’s definitely here…” he whispered. “But I can’t…. quite place where…”

And then, a loud rumbling growl shook the floors and reverberated around the hanger, the door to it only having a small effect on muffling the sound.

Lance’s face hardened with seriousness and confusion, his head snapping up, pointed ears tuned to the sound that echoed off the walls.

He turned, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed, his mouth slightly parted.

“What…” Kethek asked.

Lance didn't respond immediately, looking instead up at the rows of fighter jets in the hanger that towered over them.

Suddenly the sound, a roar, rippled down the alley again. Lance spun around to the direction it came from.

“It's the lion…” He said breathlessly. Eyes wide and face terribly unreadable.

Kethek studied the prince, not knowing what that meant, confused himself. He looked to Lance for an answer or some sign that this was good, but there was no excitement coming from him at all. It set an eerie feeling into his gut, the look of something almost bordering dread consuming Lance’s face.

Then he was running, taking off towards the door.

“Woah, Lance!” Kethek scolded, running to catch up with him. Slow down, remember the plan!”

“That was the lion, Kethek!” Lance repeated, this time meeting his gaze. “It’s here we have to get it!”

And just as he was about to approach the exit, a hang grabbed his arm in a tight grasp and yanked him back. Kethek’s face was hidden, but Lance could tell he was scowling just from the way he was standing.

“Prince,” he growled. “Don’t run ahead of me. Ever. You need to stay at my side the entire time, got it? You can’t run. That’s suspicious, and before we exit any of these doors that, may I remind you, only I can get you through, we need to remove the filters from our helmets as soon as we get out. Wearing them in the hall will draw attention to us. I know you heard the lion, but I didn’t, so we have to communicate. You tell me where you need to go and I take you there.”

“You didn’t hear that?!” Lance asked, suddenly baffled.

“No.” Kethek replied. “That’s why you're here and I didn’t come alone. You have an ability to sense the Lions that I don’t. But we have to work together on this. You can’t run ahead without me. Now so long as you’re sure it was the Lion, we can go after it. Just direct me.”

Lance took a deep breath and nodded.

“Ok.” He breathed. “Ok. Let’s go.”

They moved quickly down the halls, towards a destination in the distance where Lance said the sound had come from. Kethek, after scanning his hand to a handprint on a panel next to the door, let Lance walk ahead of him through it.

Lance was leading them. Left then right then left again, winding through the halls with little restraint other than him pausing to let Kethek check for potential traffic at intersections and in clearings. Several times, Kethek had had to yank him backwards just in time before a patrol passed and after a few close calls, Lance listened diligently to his orders, even in spite of his rushed, frantic pace.

Lance had never felt more anxious in his life than when he and Kethek had to walk right past a Galra guard as though they were supposed to be there and not an Altean prince and a Galran rebel trying to steal the red lion back. Lance could almost feel the eyes of every Galra they passed scrutinizing the two of them. But by some miracle, they were never questioned.

The further they went, the more anxious he got. Especially when he finally whispered “we’re close.” Into Kethek’s ear.

The light of the halls they now ran down faded into a red glow, the warm light emanating from what was presumably the red lion reflecting dimly along the walls.

And Kethek may not be able to sense lions like Lance, but even he could admit to feeling some kind of energy pulse through the halls. It lit him up with an energy and fire and determination. Like his very soul was being amplified.

Finally they reached a door that was pouring red light and they both knew that they had made it.

The prince halted to a stop at the entrance of the chamber looking up. Kethek reached him only moments later, when he gasped, following Lance’s gaze.

It was the red lion and the mere sight of it completely swept his breath away. Huge and imposing and emanating so much power. Kethek found himself unable to breathe properly in its presence, the awe he had for it freezing him still, ice plunging into his core and making him shiver. It's force field was glowing brightly. But what came as a shock was the glowing yellow in its eyes.

He’d almost been distracted enough by it to not realize that the room was literally flooded with Galran guards. Finally coming back to his senses, he yanked Lance by the arm to tuck back behind the wall and pulled him tight against him.

He tucked them behind a sort of pillar like structure that framed the door and hid them a bit from the oncoming traffic that could approach. But he stood at attention and jabbed at Lance to do the same so that just in case they were seen, they could at least look like guards stationed outside of the hanger at security.

Lance made only a small noise of protest before he turned to Kethek for an explanation.

“We have to take care of the guards.” He told him in a whisper. “We won’t be able to get close to the lion without taking them out.”

“Do you have more gas?” Lance whispered.

“If I’d brought any more canisters with me we most definitely would have been stopped in the hall. We have to manage without. But I can’t do it alone. I need you to back me up. Are you ok with that?”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Take out the guards. By any means necessary. The quicker we get through them the quicker we can get out.”

“What about the ship we took to get here? Wouldn’t that be bad to leave behind with all the information on it?”

Kethek held out his wrist and popped open a little door in his armor to reveal a button.

“I press this, and the ship self destructs. As soon as we make the extraction, I’ll call for the Blades stationed nearby to come get us and take the Lion. We have tractor beams, when combined with each other using a few several ships, should be strong enough to move the Lion.”

“Ok then.” Lance nodded. “Let’s do it.”

He took his gun out of its holster and turned off the safety, but Kethek noticed that he didn’t take it off stun. Lance, in spite of everything the Galra had done, didn’t want to cause harm.

“You go first, stay back and take out as many as you can. I’ll go in and cover you on the offense. Keep them from getting to you. Ok?”

“Ok.” Lance confirmed.

He seemed confident. Not shaky or unsure. He held his gun with an ease that came with experience and looked ready to fight.

When Kethek gave him the signal, he stepped out immediately, not a second of hesitation in his steps and began his assault, firing off shots at an incredible speed, his recharge time, timed out to perfection. The first few guards fell to the ground, direct and precise shots landing square in the middle of their stomachs where the armor was weaker.

In that same first instant that he began, the entire Galran guard in the room turned to him and pulled their weapons to defend the lion, screaming orders at each other, some advancing towards him and others falling back to the base of the lions shield, creating a small wall.

As soon as the first soldier made an advance towards Lance, Kethek took off like lightning. He sprinted forward, duel blades held at the ready. Lance watched in awe as Kethek moved through his attackers like water, taking down everyone in his path without getting a single hit. And when it looked like one was about to get through to him, Lance shot them down before they could.

They covered each other flawlessly and in no time at all, the guards were down. But there was no moment to celebrate their success. They had to move fast. They had made their presence clear now, and there was certainly backup on their way.

Lance ran to approach the lion as quickly as he could, shaking in anticipation with tears in his eyes. His father's lion… it was almost back with them. They we’re so close to freeing it from the Galra it literally made him ache with desperation.

The prince blinked away the tears rimming his eyes and let himself smile. With a shaky release of breath, he reached a hand up to the force field. “It’s here… I was right! It really is here…!”

But no sooner than he’d allowed himself to celebrate, his face hardened again.

“It's- it's awake though...” He stuttered, as though he only just realized it, suddenly baffled, his words trailed into frantic mumblings as he strode along the base of the force field. Kethek followed after him, his caution on high.

Lance pressed a hand against the red of the field and looked even more perplexed. “Why is this still... up?” He whispered.

“What's the problem?” Kethek asked, now genuinely concerned.

Lance hesitated, thinking. “This lion... he began. All the lions have been dormant... for years after my father died... the only lion to have awoken was my own, because I was compatible...” He looked up at the mighty beast and stilled, his shoulders sinking. “This… this was my father’s lion… this was what started it all. Before me, it was rumored that no paladins would ever exist again, because nobody would be worthy enough in comparison to my father… So this lion... it should not be awake.... and I don't.. it hasn't- there has been no- it doesn't make sense...!” Lance breathed deeply running his fingers through his hair as the gears in his head turned.

“What usually awakens a lion?” Kethek asked.

“When it chooses a paladin.” Lance replied. “But it's not me, I am already a paladin. And it’s not my father, And the force field is still up…”

Kethek turned to look at the force field curiously, studying its grid like structure and red glow. He looked through it, up towards the giant machines eyes and felt a stirring in his chest. It flooded over him as soon as their eyes met. It was a sense of… something… something he could not begin to describe, urging him to do… something. Like he had to- was meant to do something. The feeling did not sit well with him, and stirred uncomfortably inside him.

It felt, for just a moment, that the world had stilled around him- a stirring in his soul making him fall still as he looked up at the giant beast in all of its breathtaking glory. Kethek notices it's slightly smaller size in comparison to the blue lion, among many other near minuscule details that he wouldn’t have expected himself to notice. But beyond that- there was just… something about the golden eyes of the lion feeling like they were looking directly at him. Something about the way his chest felt as though it breathed with another life. That there was something he had to do here. Something urgent.

“H- how does it… choose…” he asked slowly.

“It’s a bond that requires a match in quintessence. A person’s qualities. The very essence of who they are is reflected in the lion. It’s those very personal traits that make up a specific person that makes the bond so special and hard to match, as everyone is so different. Finding a match in quintessence is a rare and uncommon thing, but when you find it, you know.”

Kethek listened but he was admittedly a little absent, lost in the gaze of the lion and the stirring in his chest. Tentatively, he stretched out his own hand to press against the shield as Lance had done before, an all consuming curiosity getting the better of him.

Then suddenly, as soon as his fingers made contact with the surface, it dissolved, the field retracting from his fingers and opening up completely.

Kethek's heart skipped, pulling his hand away sharply as if he'd been burned, looking to Lance, worried he had done something wrong. When his eyes found Lance however, his expression was completely shocked, eyes blown impossibly wide, at a loss for words. his jaw hanging open. His eyes met Kethek's and Kethek could practically see the frantic beating of his heart.

“Oh my god!!!” He said, almost screaming. “Oh my god…!”

“What did I do?!” He asked, worried.

“You... retracted the Barrier…!” Lance said breathlessly. Eyes wide and his voice breathy with disbelief.

“What does that mean?” Kethek sputtered.

Lance looked him dead in the eyes, seriousness and disbelief taking over his every feature.

“It means…” Lance breathed. “That the lion chose you... you're the red paladin…”

“What?!” Kethek said, recoiling.

Lance breathed deeply, his hand moving to run his hand over the side of his helmet, probably forgetting that he couldn’t tug at his hair with it on,

“You're the quiznacking red paladin…” he croaked, his voice as shaky as his hand. “Oh god… oh my god, you- oh my GOD!! “

“What?! Lance?? What’s-“

But suddenly out of what seemed like nowhere, shots rang out into the room again. Immediately Kethek threw himself in front of the prince, slinging an arm around him to pull him into a duck and run for cover.

The backup had arrived.

Kethek called up a shield from his armor and more shots pounded against it. Kethek looked around for any more cover they could find when he felt the prince pull his arm and tug him backwards.

He was pulling him towards the lion.

“Lance, what are you-“

“You retracted the shield Kethek! You’re it’s paladin! You can fly it out of here! Our escape plan just got so much easier!”

“If I pilot that ship Lance, you’ll have double the target on your back! If the queen finds out, I’ll be taken off the mission and sent away for your safety.”

Lance opened his mouth to make a retort, but another blast suddenly went off directly behind them and they both ducked instinctivly, effectively cutting off conversation as they ran to find more cover.

The moment they were well enough protected, Lance was grabbing him again, looking him right in the eye. Kethek was surprised to see them wet with tears, and scared as Lance looked, there was a determination overriding it almost completely.

“Lance, I already told you, I am not risking your life under any circumstances!”

“Kethek, you just awoke my father's lion. You have met your destiny here. You can not turn away from this! Either you pilot this lion or people die in the effort to get it out another way. We can prevent lost time and bloodshed and bring the lion home where it belongs!”

Lance sniffles and wiped at the accumulating tears in his eyes. “You…. you share a destiny with my father. Your very beings are mirrored in each other. It makes so much sense. Why I trust you with my entire life. Why I believe in you despite everything. Your heart is good, Kethek. Determined and passionate and full of fire… like the red lion. Like my father.”

“Kethek, you are meant for this moment. I do not care what it brings upon me. The lions are the most powerful ships ever created. You give Altea the strength and power of two of them! You make us safer. My sister let us come here. She understands the importance of this, no matter how she feels about you. I will not let her take you from me. And if she tried I’ll get her to understand. I can get her to understand. Because even she can’t ignore what this means. About you. About your character. I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”

Lance takes Kethek’s hands in his and squeezes them tight. “You fight for me every day Kethek, but don't forget that I will fight for you. you are the Red Paladin and I won’t let you walk away from this.”

Kethek sucked in a breath. They didn’t have time to debate it. Another blast knocked them to the ground, and with that, it was decided.

Fire erupted inside of him. He grabbed the prince and ran. Ran with him and didn’t look back. The lion. The giant, huge lion suddenly moved, its size and power making the whole room shake with the movement. It left Kethek breathless. It lowered its jaw to the ground, giving Kethek entry and as soon as he moved within its confines, the jaw snapped closed and the ship jolted again, throwing Kethek and Lance into a wall as they scrambled into the cockpit.

Kethek didn’t even have time to be awed at the sheer size and grandeur of the ship before he was suddenly in a room with red lights and panels glowing brightly. In the center there was a chair, and as soon as he sat down within it, it lurched forwards, bringing him towards the controls.

His head then, rather jarringly, exploded with noise. Thoughts and impulses that weren’t quite his filling his consciousness. The lion roared and he felt it reverberate in his soul.

“She’s speaking to you, Kethek!” Lance called from somewhere nearby. “Listen to her! She can help us!”

Kethek listened, he stilled his body and his mind to focus. To listen to what the lion was telling him. Visions swarmed around him. His limbs responding almost as if they had a mind of their own. He pushed up on the thruster and then he saw it. The lion's tail had a laser. He could use it to take out the controls that opened the hanger doors and escape.

The scene played through his mind, and as though he’d been flying the ship for years, he felt like he knew with an elaborate clarity, what every button on his control panel did. He fired a single shot at the hanger door controls and sure enough, the doors opened. The air lock turned off and the shots that the Galran soldiers had tried to take down the lion with stopped as they all were sucked out into space.

Kethek maneuvered the ship through after them and then, just like that, they were free.

The cruiser turned to fire at them but with a purring in the back of his brain, and an impulse to push another series of controls, the lion effortlessly disabled the ship. They flew away and moved into hyper speed completely unscathed.

Kethek’s heart was soaring, he was breathing like a fish out of water and nearly vibrating with the energy overflowing inside of him.

They’d gotten out. They’d gotten the lion. They’d made it out unharmed.

And with an assurance he felt in his gut that they were on the path to Altea whether or not Kethek chose to direct him there, he turned to look for Lance, seeing him standing in the corner of the cockpit, tears thick in his eyes and hands over his mouth. Their eyes met and before Kethek could utter a word, the prince was crashing into him.

He burried himself in his arms and sobbed into his shoulder, squeezing him so tightly that it felt like he’d never let go.

Kethek had never been so close to Lance. Never had his senses overflowed with Lance, Lance, Lance. The floral sweetness that seemed to cling to his skin filled his nose, and the warmth of the skin of his cheek pressed into his neck sent chills down his spine. Lance was hugging him. Sobbing in his arms, and that feeling... That feeling he’d tried so vehemently to crush under the heel of his boot flooded him so powerfully that Kethek had no choice but to drown in it.

The feeling that made Kethek want to hug him back just as hard, lift him up and twirl him around while holding him in his arms. The feeling that made him want, so desperately, to press ever closer to him. To hold him and run his hands along his back and his fingers through his hair.

“Kethek…” he heard Lance whimper. “Kethek, you’re the red paladin…!”

Lance pulled away, only just slightly, their noses almost touching as he blinked blearily at him, sniffling and smiling in a way that made Kethek ache.

“Why are you crying?” Kethek asked softly.

“Because I can’t doubt it anymore. And I regret ever doubting in the first place.“ He replied.

“Doubting what?“

“That you’re good.” He whimpered. “That you’re so good. That your soul is pure and your heart is true. You brought the red lion back to my people. You brought hope back to me.”

“Kethek… you’re… you’re amazing.”

And of all things that Kethek had expected to experience after this trip, having the prince in his arms while he told him that he was amazing wasn’t one of them.

He wanted to say it back. To tell Lance that he thought he was amazing. That he wasn’t in this fight just because of the mission any more. That it was more than that now. But as soon as the impulse to speak it aloud struck him, he recoiled, walls shooting back up and panic filling him completely. He didn’t let it show though. He kept his face calm despite the racing of his heart and pulled away from Lance, removing him from the circle of his arms and away from the proximity of his heart.

Gently though, to soften the blow of pushing him away, Kethek raised a hand to wipe away a tear on his cheek. A gesture that was gentle and foreign to him.

Lance just beamed, so softly and so happy, completely unknowing of the turmoil rising in Kethek, waves of it crashing just under the surface.

“Things are going to be different now... Kethek warned, there will be change. I can’t guarantee that it will be good. I could be exiled. You could be threatened even more now...”

Lance shook his head, Taking Kethek’s hands for the millionth time that night.

“All I’ve wanted is change.” He smiled. “I welcome it. This is a good thing, Kethek. No matter what happens. I’ll defend you with every breath I have.”

“We’re in this together now. Destiny has made it so.”

Chapter Text

The sight of the red lion was not missed by the Altean people upon its return to Altea. Not seeing the bright red streak arch through the sky as it entered the atmosphere would not have been possible. Calls came into the castle from all over, people rejoicing. Asking if it was real. Who the red paladin was, how they had managed to retrieve another lion.

There was such an uproar that when they landed back at the castle of lions, Allura, who had already heard it all, was in tears. She had ran into the hanger and halted still upon seeing it in all its grandeur, clasping her hands over her mouth and clearly making an effort to remain composed.

The prince watched her from the view out of the cockpit after Kethek landed the lion in the hanger. Kethek had been preparing to disembark after the lion had lowered his jaw, but Lance had stopped him, looking to be a strange combination of worried and happy as he watched his sister and Coran where they stood before the lion.

But that happy feeling was quickly muddled with a deepening furrow in his brow.

Sharply, he turned to Kethek, eyes wide and searching as they stared into his.

“Kethek…” he said, swallowing nervously. “Kethek, let’s not tell her.”

The words came out in a single breath and Kethek bristled.

“What?”

“Let’s not tell her what happened.”

“Highness-“ Kethek tried, but Lance put a delicate hand on his chest to stop him, making the close proximity that they maintained while crowded in front of the chair of the cockpit even more prevalent.

“I have every desire in the universe for my sister to make her peace with you and I don’t want this request to make it seem like you are something to be ashamed of or kept hidden. Because you saved us Kethek. You are the red paladin and-“ he pauses to wipe at the tears that had gathered again in his eyes.

“You have no idea how much that means. And maybe she would see what I see and find it in herself to respect you if she knew that you’re the red paladin, but if she knew, that means she might make you go… for my safety… she could make you leave… and I’m...”

The prince swallowed, a blush rising slowly to tint his cheeks as he continued. “I don’t think I would feel quite as safe with anyone else the way I do with you.”

Kethek blinked, surprised by the prince's answer, but Lance was moving on too quickly for him to truly analyze it.

“That and the Galra don’t know either. We are the only two people who know what really happened. It’s safer for me, and for you if nobody knows right now. We can tell Allura the same story that we’ll tell my people and the same story my people will tell others. The same story that the Galra will hear too.”

“And what is that story?” Kethek asked.

“That the red lion awoke without a paladin, just for a moment, to rescue us from the attack. It’s believable because nobody truly knows anything about the lions yet, and it was my father's lion. If we tell everyone this, there won’t be any more of a target on my back than before. No target on yours either, and we will be safe. We won’t be able to use the red lion to defend ourselves like I could with Blue, but that’s ok because all that matters is that the red lion can not be used against us now.”

Lance looked at him, blue eyes piercing as he waited for Kethek’s reply, biting his lip.

The prince was completely right.

Everything would change if he was known as the red paladin. His purpose. His impact. His image. He was the red paladin and that was huge. So huge that if word got out it could be disastrous. The Galra would have twice the reason to assassinate the prince.

Maybe the Galra might think there was reason to put more of a target on him anyways because their false story would mean that Lance had the ability to influence a lion without being its paladin, but that wasn’t as severe as his Galran guard being a paladin. Because then they could target him too. That would compromise the mission and if something happened to him, then Lance would be vulnerable.

So Lance was right. This request was intended to protect them both, and he appreciated that.

He tells the prince as much and he smiles in return, looking endlessly relieved.

And then, in a rather unexpected shift, Lance was hugging him. Body squeezed up tight against his middle.

Kethek stuttered, hesitating just a bit before finally putting his arms around Lance too. Just gently enough so that Lance knew his arms were there, but nothing more.

Lance pulled away, smiling a gleaming smile.

“Allura’s should come to respect you the right way anyways” He says gently. “From getting to know you and seeing your good without knowing about Red. Just like I did. I’ll be sure to find every opportunity to make that happen.”

Kethek swallowed, feeling his throat begin to close up with nerves at the flutter in his heart.

Abort abort abort abor-

“Let’s go to her then, yeah? Tell her the good news?”

He winks, smiling a beautiful smile before straightening himself out and brushing himself off, leading Kethek towards his sister who had not once looked their way while distracted with the breathtaking sight of the lion in front of her.

She noticed the pair once Lance came within a few feet of her. Close enough that they could both see the tears in her eyes.

“Lance…” she breathed. “I… I can't believe…”

Lance nodded, a small smile on his lips before Allura went in to hug him, her movements forcefull and strong and elegant.

The prince hugged her back eagerly, turning to look up at the lion, tears now in his own eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” He said softly, so soft that Kethek almost missed it from the respectful distance he was maintaining as the siblings embraced and shared a rare moment of unity and kinship.

“Father's lion… home again.” Allura sniffled, arms still wrapped around her brother, the side of her head pressed into his chest as they both stood in awe.

“It feels all too good to be true.”

And then she’s pulling away, wiping delicately at her tears as she asks, “however did you manage to do it? I’ll admit, rather shamefully now, that I thought you to be chasing a wild joonkip…”

Lance laughs, Kethek mulling over the queen's phrase before concluding that this joonkip thing was some sort of Altean phrase for a wild goose chase.

“I could never have done it without Kethek.” The prince said, very suddenly catching Kethek off guard.

The queen raises a brow just barely expressing her surprise as Lance goes on.

“It was amazing. He knew the ship so well. Took out guards without a single misstep. Sometimes three guards at a time.”

Lance stops and turns to look at him, a soft look in his eyes as he tells her, “he kept me safe.”

“What of the lion?”Allura asked, moving on quickly. “How did you awaken it?”

And Kethek is so impressed with the display Lance puts on that he too is almost convinced of their false story when he tells it.

“It’s like… father was there. His spirit in the lion.”

Lance's eyes grew wet as he continued, hand over his heart in an extra display of sincerity. It awoke as though a ghost walked up to its shield and commanded it to, rising up on its legs and taking us out of the fight as soon as we lost the upper hand.

“It awoke with no paladin?” Allura asks, eyes wide.

Lance nods. “Just until it brought us here. Then everything went dark when we landed.”

“Amazing.” Allura whispered, awed. “Your bond to the lions is strong. Strong enough even for a lion that is not yours to react to your needs.”

“Well I’m not sure about every lion. It could just be because this lion was fathers.”

Allura nodded. “Well you brought it home. It’s safe, and the Galra can’t get it back.” She smiled. “I’m so proud of you Lance…”

“Kethek was instrumental in our success. We would not have succeeded if not for him.” Lance reminded her, and Allura’s smile reduced a bit, looking hesitant to turn towards the Galra when she did.

And for the first time in the entire time of Kethek ever having known the queen, she looks directly into his eyes with something other than hatred and tries on a very strained, somewhat disingenuous smile and sighed.

“Thank you... Kethek.” She said, her lips tight and unmoving as the words slip through her teeth. But she thanked him. Looked him in the eyes and thanked him. Actually thanked him. And it was leaps and bounds more than he thought he’d ever receive from the queen for his efforts.

She turned back to her brother, replacing her strained, half smile with a much more genuine one and wiped at a few more tears, squeezing his hands and being far more affectionate than he’d seen from the two siblings since he’d arrived at Altea.

“We should celebrate. Tonight. With Coran and you can extend the invite to Hunk as well. We’ll have one of those big dinners as a family… just like we used to with mother and father. I want to hear everything. The whole story!”

She paused, looking conflicted for a moment before she turned back to Kethek, jaw tightening.

“As an extension of my thanks, I also invite you to join us, Kethek.” She said. “If you so wish.”

Kethek blinked. He had not expected that. Was rather shocked that Allura had even considered him for a second when planning an intimate celebration dinner, and he was about to politely turn her down when Lance looked at him, eyes wide with excitement. He looked at Kethek in a way that made him feel too much… too many things. But the prince was happier than Kethek had seen him in ages, and the queen was almost being kind to him and her and Lance were getting along for the first time in forever. Everything was going right and things were looking up for the first time since he’d been here.

“I have a responsibility to uphold still, my queen.” Kethek said eventually, doing everything in his power to look away from Lance. “As exciting as our victory may be, we can’t let our guard down. But I thank you for your most generous offer.”

He bows a little, lowering his head to her in conclusion to his sentence and the queen looks lighter. Like she’d been dreading the possibility that Kethek could agree.

“Very well then. Lance, why don’t you go wash up. I’ll summon you when dinner is ready.”

Lance nodded to her and turned to leave, approaching Kethek, who vehemently stared ahead as they began walking.

It took Lance all of three seconds to interrogate him after they left the hanger.

His voice sounded sad, which had been what Kethek was afraid of.

“You should have agreed to come to dinner… Allura-“

“The queen was in a good mood, highness… she’ll enjoy the dinner much more without my presence. And you two need to spend time as family together… I haven’t seen her smile that much in the entire time I’ve known her. And I need to be ready for an attack anyways. Now is just as good a time as any for the Galra to choose to strike.

Lance sighed softly, biting his lip but didn’t say anything further. Instead he let Kethek escort him to his room and then to dinner when Allura called them. Lance tried to get him to join them one last time as he entered the dining area, but to no avail. Kethek insisted he be left out of it and stood guard at the door while they celebrated inside.

And then, things went back to normal.

Kethek made an effort to have them go back to normal at least. He trained with the prince, took him to his meetings, and ignored the hum in his brain pulling him towards the hangers. Ignored the lion that was trying to reach her paladin.

It was the same sensation he’d experienced on the Galra ship. Like sharing a conscience with someone. A push of impulse or ideas that weren’t your own but occupied your head. Among the things that those subliminal pushes were telling him to do were things like walking to the hanger, flying red out in space… and... bonding with the blue paladin.

It wasn’t the first time in his life that Kethek had to actively ignore his own instinct and primal nature, so shutting the lion out came easily to him. His main problems now were primarily regarding the summer festival.

The first day of the event was scheduled in just a few quintants, and the queen was slowly starting to panic again. The excitement for the red lion wore off around two quintants ago, and now she was back to being a drill Sergeant, making sure that everything was prepped and ready, but more importantly that the security was taken care of.

Kethek had communicated with the Blade, requesting that more guards come to assist him for the festival and they were set to arrive before the end of the quintant. Kethek didn’t particularly have any friends in the Blade, but he chose guards that he most respected to come and avoided ones who were particularly rough around the edges for Lance’s sake.

The last step was making sure Lance was prepared. Their relentless training had actually turned him into quite the swordsman. Enough that Kethek could actually spar with him and not have to hold everything back. Odds of him winning a one on one fight with an assassin were slim to none, but what Kethek most cared about was that Lance would be able to defend himself, at least a little bit, until help arrived.

Lance had said it himself when this all began, and Kethek was learning it to be true. He was a quick learner and adaptable. Especially under pressure. His technique wasn’t necessarily where it needed to be, but he could fight, and had the drive. Kethek only hoped it would be enough when the chips were down.

Lance seemed to think so, praising himself for his ‘mastery’ of the Blade and always taunting Kethek to spar him for real.

It was an interesting thing to deal with. On one hand he wanted to give Lance confidence so that he wouldn’t doubt himself if he found himself in any dangerous altercations. And on the other hand, he didn’t want to give him too much false confidence and have him end up hurting himself.

So Kethek did his best to maintain a little bit of both. A ‘You’re fast improving and a quick learner, but not at all fit to face me yet,’ kind of thing.

For the most part that seemed to do the trick. Every day Lance became more serious in training. Joking less, frowning more. It was something that Kethek had learned to be well disguised fear. Lance was scared as the festival approached. He never said it outright, but Kethek was getting good at hearing all the things Lance never said.

His confidence on the outside never seemed to waver though. To the average person, he had no concerns at all. And it proved to be especially true when backup arrived.

They were practicing disarming when Kethek got an alert that the Blades had entered the atmosphere.

“What was that?” Lance asked in regards to the beep that had come with the alert.

“Blades are here.” He sighed. “We should go to meet them in the hanger. Be there when they arrive.”

Lance nodded. “Can I get changed first?” He asked, “and perhaps shower? Do you think there’s time? I don’t want to smell when I meet them. Or look dirty…”

“Honestly, I think being dirty will do you some favors with them. You look like a fighter. Strong. They’ll respect that more than jewels and sweet smelling juneberries.

“Juneberries?” Lance asked.

“Yeah you have a strong smell.”

“Excuse me?!” Lance scoffed.

“I don’t mean it as a bad thing! It’s a good thing, just maybe not in this context.”Kethek says somewhat frantically in an attempt to backtrack. ”Floral smells I mean. They might not know that it’s a juniberry exactly… I had to look it up considering that it only grows on Altea… But they’ll get floral. Especially right after a shower…”

He was rambling.

“Point is smelling pretty like a flower might make them think you’re dainty. They deserve to see that you’re strong in spite of being well manicured.”

Lance’s eyes widened a bit and Kethek didn’t really know why until it was too late.

“You looked up what flower I smell like?” He asked, his voice too soft and curious for comfort.

“I mean yeah, I smell you all the time, you’re always right next to me, I was curious.”

There was a pause… and then,

“You think I’m strong?”

Kethek hopes to hell that the heat he felt in the tips of his ears wasn’t noticeable enough for Lance to see, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Of course you're strong.” He said, as though there wasn’t a bone in his body that doubted it.

And maybe Kethek had managed to hide his blush, but Lance had not. His cheeks flushed a light pink and he blinked, looking a bit flustered.

“Now come on,” he said, moving in and pretending he was none the wiser. “Let’s go greet them.”

The way there was tense. At least for him it was tense, because out of the corner of his eye, he knew Lance was definitely sending him side glances, and flinching to look away whenever Kethek’s eyes went anywhere near him.

So he was actually happy to arrive at the hanger and see that the ship was preparing to doc.

Yet again there was an entire half of the guard waiting to receive the Blades, but Kethek did his best to brush it off, and to his surprise, Lance placed a hand on his arm. It was subtle, as they when under the watchful eyes of the Alteans, but there regardless, steady and soft with comfort.

“I tried to tell Allura the guards weren’t necessary. But…”

“It’s fine, your highness, I’ve come to expect it.”

Lance didn’t look to be happy with that response. But there wasn’t enough time for him to protest before the queen arrived with Coran. Just like that, Lance's hand was back at his side.

Allura gave a silent look to Lance as she passed him, walking confidently towards the ship in the way she does to look intimidating, and Lance Coran and Kethek followed behind her.

The Blades exited the ship after their Altean pilot, and Lance’s eyes went comically wide as they stood to their full height after crouching through the door of the ship. Kethek had to hold in a laugh at his reaction.

“So you’re actually the shortest Galra in existence then.” He whispered softly to him. “I’d almost forgotten that you’re so quiznacking tiny.“

Kethek rolled his eyes ever so slightly, just enough so that the prince could see and then stepped forwards. He greeted them the way Lance knew was typical for Galra, no words, just a nod and a fist crossed over your chest. A salute.

His Galran Co-workers literally towered over him by at least 2 heads and Lance was admittedly still shocked somewhat by the diffrence. Had Kethek been premature or something?

“My queen,” he spoke then, turning to address Allura. “This is Sontak, Zaon, Xarta, Verex, and Kalna. They were chosen for this mission as the most well rounded fighters in the Blade.”

The five Blades bowed respectfully to Lance and to Allura, who looked composed even though she was visibly shaking.

Her words to tell them to stand back up like how she had done with Kethek did not come however. In fact any words from the queen did not seem likely. Her eyes were frozen just a bit too wide and her back was just slightly too stiff to consider her composed. She was panicking. Just slightly, but it appeared Lance took notice. With a step forward to stand at his sister's side, he spoke up for her.

“Please rise.” He instructed. And the Blade’s did.

He kept the nervousness Kethek knew he’d been feeling well hidden as he gave the five of them a pleasant smile, stepping in for his sister.

“I’m grateful that you’re here. I hope I can come to rely on you the same way I’ve grown to trust Kethek. He has assured me of your merit, and I welcome you to our kingdom.”

Kalna, the tallest of the bunch, takes a step forward and gives Lance a salute.

“It is an honor to meet you, your highness.” She says. My team and I, led by Kethek, will do anything in our power to make sure that you and the castle are secure.”

Lance nodded and then Coran too, stepped in, introducing himself and offering to take the Blade around the castle to become acquainted with the areas they would be watching over.

Kethek and Lance followed behind them to join, but not before Lance stopped beside Allura looking concerned. He whispered something to her that Kethek could not hear, and Allura scowled and said something back, fists clenching. And then after a few more exchanges, Allura followed too, in step next to Lance.

She was clearly worried about the Blade. Afraid of them perhaps. But whatever Lance had said had convinced her to push it aside. She even went as far as to speak up, requesting certain rooms to be more heavily surveilled, and asked, though she didn’t look them in the eyes when talking, what their specialties were, among other important things to know in preparation for the festival. By the end of it, they were all acquainted with the main areas of where the public would be welcome to visit, as well as the areas outside in the gardens and fields that would be taken over for events and with dining.

By the end of it all there was a plan, further solidified in a meeting later that evening after the Blades were shown their temporary quarters, and put into place the very next day as the set up began.

Lance had been brimming with excitement since he’d awoke, rattling off every aspect and detail of the festival and what it stood for to Kethek. It’s history, the traditions, and all his childhood memories of the event.

It was a day commemorating the kingdom's first summer harvest after an infamous famin swept the entire planet. The castle, (ruled by Lance’s ancestors) had opened its doors and invited the needy in to sleep and be cared for during the worst of the environmental disasters that had caused so many to starve.

The first harvest that following summer had come about almost as though it was a miracle, growth blooming everywhere, though Lance told him it was legend that it was the first time that Alteans discovered their alchemic powers and used it to bring back the plants that sustained them.

The festival sought to uphold and continue the traditions of open doors and strength without the divide of class. The harvest was proof of their perseverance, and the alchemic legend behind it all was deeply rooted in Altean spirituality. Or at least that’s what Lance had said.

He spoke of it like it was precious, telling Kethek of how he can feel the spirit of his people strongest during the festival. For the stars shine brighter and the food tastes sweeter and unity seeps through every open door. How he and Allura and the former king and queen would celebrate privately on the last night of the festival in the juniberry fields.

Kethek could tell just by looking at him how dear it was to his heart, and it encouraged him all the more to make it go as smoothly as possible.

They spend the day helping with preparations and by night's end, the castle was glittering and ready to welcome the kingdom through its doors. It’s very open, easily penetrable… dangerously open doors.

And yet again he finds himself caught in the middle. Between knowing that he would be able to protect the prince no matter what, and growing concerned for the same reasons that the queen has suggested canceling the festival in the first place.

But when morning came around, he nearly lost all thought of his concern upon seeing Lance emerge from his room bright and early.

Somehow, he looked more breathtaking than usual. He was absolutely stunning, and Kethek wasn’t even sure what it was about him that was different. Just that he was practically glowing and sparkling at every angle.

He greeted Kethek with a dazzling smile, so much excitement in his eyes, and gave a twirl.

“So what do you think?”

The prince was decked out in gold, all of it adorning a pale teal-blue silk tunic tucked neatly into a pair of dark blue embroidered pants that showed off every inch of what were endlessly long legs. On his shoulders draped a luminescent organza shawl, and resting on top of the layers were every assortment of glittering gold jewelry and crystals that matched the shiny ones dangling from his ears.

His bangs were parted at the side to show off the golden shine of his circlet, and everything together made him look like a beam of light. Ethereal and light as air. He looked like the ocean at sunrise, golden rays casting on the shadows of teal water.

He looked beautiful.

“You look excited.” Kethek spoke instead.

“I am excited!” Lance smiled. “This is the only thing I’ve been able to look forward to for forever, and I get to take a break from isolation for a bit. And show you all of the traditions and events!”

“My prince…” Kethek began, already regretting what he was about to say. “You must still be wary today. I will not be able to let you leave the designated areas in the castle where we have arranged security.”

“I know.” Lance said with a sigh, but he was still smiling.

“It’s still more than I’ve been able to have in a long time, though, so I’m making the most of it. These next few quintants, I’m telling myself that no assassins exist and everything is good.”

And as much as Kethek wanted to protest that, he was right. It was Kethek’s job to worry for him. They had arranged it so that Lance could worry less and enjoy more. And with all that he’d been through recently, Kethek really wanted to make sure that he was able to.

First on the agenda, the opening of the doors, the official beginning of the festival.

It was tradition for the royals to open the doors themselves and address the gathered crowd with warm welcomes. It was the most exposed he would be for the whole festival, so this year, the opening of the gates was arranged to be done within the shields of the castle.

Anyone inside the small radius of the shield underwent an intense background check before they were allowed to come in, and as soon as the speeches were over and Lance was back under the protection of Kethek and the guards, the shields would lower and everyone else would be accepted in.

Lance was bouncing with excitement the whole way there, cheeks rosy and eyes light as he grinned when Laura arrived. Together they walked to the entrance of the castle and waited, holding their breath. Kethek stood back, unable to fully hear the happy words they were exchanging. By the looks of it though, Allaura was still hesitant and worried and Lance was trying to cheer her up, poking her and being the epitome of a younger brother in the attempt to make her smile.

And apparently it worked because soon enough, Allura was giving a small admonishing smile to her brother and playfully slapping him on the arm. It was good to see. Kethek was so overwhelmingly glad that the two of them were getting along again. At least, more so than usual.

Kethek heard in the earpiece he wore that the shields were at full capacity and that the doors could now open safely, without risk to the prince.

“Shields are up, your majesty.” He said to the queen nodding in her direction.

The queen breathed in a heavy breath and stilled, looking to Lance.

“Are you ready?” Kethek heard her ask.

Lance nodded gleefully, reaching out to grab her hands one last time before he took his side of the door and Allura moved to follow, schooling her worried expression into a much more pleasant smile as she and Lance prepared to open the doors.

Kethek counted down, as they’d prepared, so that the people who would hear him in his earpiece would be tuned into the exact moment the royals opened the door.

3, 2, 1… with a deep breath, Kethek drew in close behind Lance, prepared for anything that would come as light filled the foyer of the castle, the sunlight blinding in contrast, but Kethek had prepared for that too, wearing a special kind of contact that made certain that, dark or light, he was always able to see.

Lance and Allura were greeted with deafening cheers as they opened the doors as widely as they were able to go, before walking back to the center of the top of the steps that lead up to the castle doors from the ground to wave and smile at everyone below.

For a tense, long moment, Kethek waited anxiously for any sign of threat, ready to take Lance away as soon as anything went awry, but a minute passed, and then a minute more, and the crowds cheers started to die down and Allura was preparing her words and nothing threatening happened.

Kethek’s caution did not dwindle though, remaining on high alert as Allura’s voice boomed out over the kingdom, speaking kindly and with dignity, betraying no waver in her voice that would demonstrate how concerned she truly was.

After talking about unity, the pride of Altea, and beloved traditions, it was Lance’s turn to speak up.

Kethek knew his joy to be genuine, as was his lack of nervous energy. For Lance, this moment… being able to live in some semblance of normalcy again was worth the threat of death. So he was eager and unconcerned and happy, all while knowing he was in danger and just… not caring. It terrified Kethek.

He welcomed the people into the castle, cracked a few good hearted jokes, many at Coran’s expense that earned a rumble of laughter from the crowd and bid everyone a happy summer festival.

And with his final words, the events were in full swing, Alteans walked around the grounds of the castle and in through the front doors. Lance was positively glowing from where he stood beside Kethek, shaking hands and smiling a dazzling smile, directing people to where the main feast would commence.

He watched for trouble with both royals beside him, trying to become invisible in his stillness as the citizens started to swarm around them. For the most part it seems to work. He only caught the occasional terrified look or small, fearful tug of a child’s arm to pull them away from him, but he paid no mind. He’s focused on every inch of space around Lance and the queen.

Occasionally Lance would see a friend in the crowd and when he greeted them, his smile so bright it was blinding, going in for a hug or a kiss on the cheek. One was an older woman with withered hands that wrap gently around his, another, a girl around his age with blond hair and teal marks that he calls Romelle.

When just about everybody is through, and all the guests follow each other into the dining halls, he, Lance, and Allura are finally able to walk back inside and away from the open doors, and the relief that Kethek feels is palpable. He hovers around the prince as they walk, unconsciously attempting to make himself bigger with his arms spread out and away from his body Just a bit more, creating a kind of shield with himself behind the prince's back.

They head to the kitchens, Lance talking animatedly to the queen who is very much trying to look calm and not constipated with worry.

But Kethek can see the sharp cut of her eyes across a room, even if it’s well hidden behind a kind smile.

They take their seats at the head of the table and call the feast to begin, a grand array of so, so much food is brought out all at once to the tables. Truly a testament to how very-not starved the people of Altea were, and how the famine that has started this tradition was very much non-existent now.

It had taken a while for Lance to be convinced when they had been preparing for this event that Kethek would not get to sit down and enjoy the meal with them, but he couldn’t be distracted by food. He had to be ready to protect Lance and the queen at any moment. It didn’t stop Lance from giving Kethek a small pout though as he was about to sit down.

He leans forward then, in a motion too simple and plain to have caused Kethek’s heart to leap as much as it did, but his heart pounds with a fever as Lance’s breath fans out over his ear and tickles his neck as he whispers “I had Hunk save you two servings of everything.”

Lance pulls back and smiles beautifully at him before turning to sit and Kethek is panicking because he’s not super focused on threats and assassins and room exits anymore. He’s no longer calm and ready. Now his heart is pounding irrationally and Kethek is flushing hot, because the prince had whispered into his ear and offered him a kindness he hadn’t expected and the thought of it made it hard for Kethek to breathe, let alone focus on the mission at hand.

He tries desperately to shake himself out of it and drag his eyes away from the back of Lance’s near glowing white hair and finds himself crippled with shame at how difficult it was to eventually manage to do.

If there’s one thing he could be certain of it’s that neither Lance nor Allura were aware of his slip in focus.

Once the meal commences, it’s easier. He can let the dull amalgamation of excited voices and music drone into a small buzz in his ear.

He focuses on the walls of the room, the exits, the windows, the rafters and chandeliers. He stands behind the prince, glowing, and happy, and courteous, and consciously feels himself to be so different from him. Scowling and intense, too intimidating to approach. A shadow to the light and laughter of the prince before him. The contrast does not pass him by. It’s glaring, and it reminds Kethek what he needs to be. He needs to be what the prince should not have to be when he’s celebrating. He needs to be serious, and intimidating so that Lance may continue in his freedoms for just a bit longer.

When he thought of it that way, it was far easier to focus. Far easier to assume his role completely, hand at his hip, resting on his blade.

But that all goes to shit once again when dinner concludes and all the guests are invited to the ballroom.

Lance informs Kethek in a rush that he needs to change one last time for the occasion, so he can “make an entrance” and Kethek complies as he follows him back to his room.

He waits only briefly, not even long enough to fully rest and breathe before Lance emerges again dressed decadently in a suit that Kethek imagines to be straight out of a fairy tail. It’s elegance dwarfs his previous outfit, making it look so incredibly casual by comparison.

It’s a soft baby blue, buttonless and fitted to perfection, sculpting out his every angle. More swirling embroidery covers its surface. It looks positively Altean, and if by some slim chance that someone didn’t know he was the prince before, they certainly would now.

“I had it all laid out!” Had it taylored a while ago for this. It’s nice, huh?”

Lance, of course, was positively grinning, and Kethek was torn between wanting to stand and drool and worrying about the fact that this new outfit would bring even more attention to him.

Lance dragged him away quicker than he was able to do either, though, babbling about how the ball was his favorite part of the festival and which door he should enter from.

Of course, he decided on the one that would get the most attention, dragging Kethek along for an extra several paces, passing the other doors until they arrived at the one he’d wanted.

This was another one of these moments where Lance would be opening a door to an environment that Kethek was not able to survey for himself. The other Blades were in position and hadn’t informed him of anything to be concerned about, but the amount with which he wanted to shove Lance behind him and walk into the ballroom shielding Lance from attacks, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Not without a slew of people reprimanding him for it. Namely Lance himself.

So he bit his tongue and followed after Lance, keeping close as he made yet another entrance, with all the grandeur he could muster, openly offering himself to the crowd around him without a care. As soon as the doors opened, the murmurs of the room grew soft and Kethek, though he couldn’t see from behind the prince, was sure it was because every person had turned to look at him and none could bring themselves to pull their gazes away.

Kethek couldn't blame them.

Yet again, there was no uproar. No unrest. No violence that threatened the prince as he entered. Music played and the festivities continued without interruption.

Lance descended the steps and Kethek followed close behind him, eyes sharp, but stopped at the edge of the dance floor, just as they discussed.

Lance, when surrounded by people and dancing was in less immediate danger than he would be if he was alone. Kethek was instructed to let him have his fun and watch him from the sidelines, so that’s what he did.

He watched Lance relentlessly. Watched as he was immediately swarmed with people asking him to dance, watched as he smiled that gleaming smile and accepted each offer he was given. Watched the people around him fall still to watch him too, captivated by him in every sense. Watched as Lance flirted and laughed and spun his dance partners around.

He was a flirt, and every smile he flashed someone’s way- every glance he gave seemingly managed to send people into fits of blushing and hand fanning. Not literally, of course, but that may as well have been what happened based on the look they got in their eyes. And no, Kethek was not bitter about it.

It wasn’t all flirting though, he danced with little children and some people who by the looks of it must have been his friends from the markets. He was beautiful. Captivating. Everyone knew it and Kethek hadn't noticed how captivated he had been until a voice called for his attention.

His head snapped perhaps a little too forcefully to look at who had said his name. Slightly embarrassed at how distracted he had been, he turned to see none other than the queen walking his way. He dipped into a deep bow in greeting.

“How may I help you, your majesty.” He said as politely and professionally as possible.

“I request nothing of you other than what you seem to be already doing. She said. Trying to smile. Kethek tried to give her credit for that much. “I was simply coming to ask how my dear brother fairs thus far this evening.”

Kethek nodded and gestured in the prince's direction, who was now looking flirtatiously down at a girl who had a hand on his chest. Pushing past the initial desire to throw up at the sight, and the jealousy he refused to believe was jealousy, he briefed Allura.

“He is making no efforts to conceal himself, and appears to be unworried, just as we assumed he would be. I have guards posted at every entrance in the ball room as well as the castle. I myself will shadow him tonight and protect the prince at whatever cost. I can assure you, your highness, that every precaution has been taken just according to plan.”

The queen nodded. “And this will continue after he's left yes?” She asked how do you intend to pull that off?

“The prince is going to leave?” Kethek asked, confused, his brow furrowing.

Allura’s face went sour subtly, tinged of something like exasperation flashing in her eyes as she prepared her reply. “Yes.... my apologies, I realize now that we must have never discussed it.” She said slowly. “My brother never stays for the entirety of a party. Usually he will remain up until the main dance, where he dances with whatever partner he’s chosen for the night, before he and them sneak off to his room.”

Kethek's face flushed at the thought. He had known well of the prince's reputation beforehand, as did his sister surely, though her approval of the matter seemed to be a different story, but the casual mention of it as known fact still made him blush.

“If that’s the case, myself and the guards will fortify security around the room at that point.”

Allura nodded, her smile still feeling somewhat disingenuous. But she was smiling nonetheless and Kethek took that as a win. “Thank you.” She said, her jaw tight before she turned and walked into the crowd to meet with the guests. A much different smile falling on her lips.

Kethek sighed quietly. Turning back to look at the prince. His arms behind his back, clad in full uniform. He was not a guest, he wasn't at a party, He was on a job. He was here for the prince's safety. Nothing more. He had to remind himself of that.

He trained his eyes in the dazzling features of the prince and did not allow himself to become captivated by him again. He would stay only aware of him and his surroundings, eyes peeled for and any and all threats. It was long, tiring work, and many times he felt his heart flutter at the sight of the prince's smile or movements, but he refused to partake in the infatuation that him and seemingly every other person around Lance was victim to.

Kethek had accepted it. The prince was beautiful. His reputation was making more and more sense, but he had absolutely no place to become emotionally invested with anyone while he was here. Lance had established them as friends. That he trusted him and liked him, but if Allura's attitude towards him was any indication of how Alteans viewed the Galra, he was still not, and would maybe never be fully welcome.

Part of him wondered how it would be different if they knew he was the red paladin. If him being Galra would matter as much, But the Altean people weren't aware and it had to stay that way. For Lance’s safety. There was no choice.

Frankly, he was relieved. He couldn't afford to get comfortable. There was too much at stake. He was safe for now, and screwing that up would be bad for everyone.

An hour passed of mingling and dancing and music and nothing threatening happened. It was peaceful and none of the guests seemed to have a care in the world. Lance included.

At this point in the night, the dancing was sloppier as the nunvill set in and the crowd became a little less stiff. All accept for Lance, who seemed as sharp and bright eyed as ever, graceful and elegant and charming. He laughed with every guest who offered him conversation and made each of his dance partners swoon under his gaze.

He was captivating, and the tightness that was growing in Kethek’s chest from watching it did nothing to tamper the twinges of irritation he got every time someone put their hands on the prince’s hips.

He wasn’t aware that he probably looked murderous until he started getting more and more concerned stares when he’d previously been invisible.

He didn’t like the implications of his reactions to watching Lance mingle and dance. He didn’t like how he was so easily driven to clenched fists and angry glares. He especially didn’t like the realization that, yet again, Lance had become his main point of focus rather than his potential threats.

Sighing deeply, he attempted to reset once more. Relaxing his hands and his shoulders, and pushing away the annoyance bubbling inside him. The sinking in his chest that came from the absurd fact that the prince had not paid him any mind at all the whole night.

Only he was. Now he was. Suddenly and shockingly, Kethek had caught Lance’s eyes in what was supposed to be a quick glance in his direction before returning to the exits of the room.

But his gaze was now locked on blue eyes. Impossibly bright and vibrant in spite of how far away the prince was.

He was looking at him while in the arms of someone else, stopping their swaying dance.

His gaze finally drifted from Kethek’s as he looked down at the person who held onto him, smiling a polite apology and extracting himself from their grasp.

And then, just like that, his eyes were back on him, a soft, beautiful smile blooming on his face as soon as he began to approach, and oh shoot, he was approaching him.

The prince's eyes practically glowed in the dim light of the ballroom, his outfit making him look luminescent and his grace tinting every move he made with a beauty unrivaled by anyone in the room.

The way we swept over the dance floor, weaving through the crowd with a smile set Kethek’s heart still.

And just like that, Lance was right there, right in front of him, his shining eyes and glowing presence in all their glory.

“Would you care for a dance, kind sir?” He’d asked, a lovely smile painting his lips, his face soft and playful.

“A dance?” Kethek blanched, trying time school himself into some sort of composure as he felt himself blush. Keeping his face stern, he brought himself back from his daze. “I don’t think a dance between us would be well received, my prince. That and my duties require me to be ready for-“

“Not here.” Lance said, cutting him off in a low voice, like it was a secret. “I know a better place. And what better way is there to keep me safe other than to be right next to me?” He asked.

Kethek bit his tongue. After a second of hesitation, he found himself nodding, not yet sure if he would regret it.

Lance’s smile grew so beautifully on to his lips. It was gleaming and sincere. As though warmth and love just poured from his entire being. His eyes shined and his face softened so gently. It was mesmerizing. With a gentle grasp at his wrist, he pulled them off the ballroom floor, weaving through crowds of people in the hopes of evading suspicious eyes.

They went quickly down the halls, turning then through a spiral stairway that Kethek had never seen before. An entrance he had never even known existed. When they came to the top of the stairs, there was a lock at the handle. An ancient kind that required a metal key to be wedged into a slot and turned just so. Kethek wondered for a minute if Lance had been aware of this, but then moments later, out from under his suit, he pulled at one of his several necklace chains to remove one that was strung through a key.

It took only moments for the prince to bend down and feed it through the keyhole, his hand still grasping warmly around Kethek’s wrist. The door opened and Lance pulled them through the entrance with little haste.

Suddenly, they were above the ballroom, lofted high above the party below but still able to clearly hear the thrum of the music come up through the floorboards beneath their feet.

It was a fairly dusty room with low light, but it looked well kept all the same. There were a few comfortable looking chairs in the corner and a piano looking thing, along with some other instruments Kethek didn't recognize along the walls. The rest of the room was open floors. It was exactly what the prince had insinuated it would be. A private ballroom. Far, far less ornate, and much smaller, but it could comfortably allow for two individuals to flow along to the music together.

Lance turned to Kethek, looking simply breathtaking.

“This is a room I discovered when I was a child. I don’t believe Allura even knows about it. I assume it was built by one of my ancestors, for what, I’ve never been sure, but I turned it into a private ballroom. I’d come up here all the time when I was young. There's a floorboard here that you can see through to the dancefloor, oh and sometimes I would bring Hunk, before he was invited or allowed to come to the balls, which he was always jealous he could never attend, we’d dance around to the music and take turns spying on the party below while we’d have a little party of our own. I’d sneak up food from downstairs… and I'd just… let go.”

The prince pauses for a moment, his eyes still traveling around the room fondly, a smile never leaving his face. And then his eyes are back on Kethek, who, in spite of his best efforts not to, feels his ears go hot in the beginnings of yet another blush.

“This is a place I always felt I could be myself.” He continues. Where nobody relied on me… nobody was watching me… I could just do whatever my heart desired and not have to worry about what it would mean for my family or my kingdom or my people… I could be free.

“Your highness, I-” Kethek tried to reply, but before he could finish, Lance was suddenly three steps closer to him and shushing him with one long finger over his mouth, his other hand holding him on the side of his waist.

“When we're alone… '' he said, his voice just decibels above a whisper, you call me by my name, remember?”

Kethek practically turned to stone with the proximity and all the touching making his brain short circuit, but he nodded nonetheless.

“I remember.” He said quietly.

A moment more passes in what Kethek feels is tense silence. He's not sure the prince would read it the same way though, because he’s giving Kethek this soft, kind smile and it’s making Kethek feel like he’ll pass out if he doesn’t say anything to fill the silence that’s left in its wake.

So he asks the first question he can think of.

“Why did you bring me here.”

He says it in a way he hopes didn’t sound stern, though it felt somewhat harsh when it left his tongue.

But Lance’s smile doesn’t falter.

“I like spending time with you.” He replied simply. “And I haven't yet gotten the chance to without you being involved in my safety. So here, you can keep an extra close eye on me without worry.”

And before Kethek had enough time to process all that he meant by that, Lance was extending a hand in his direction.

“Do you know how to dance Kethek?” He asked. His voice still soft.

And Kethek would never admit to the fluttering that erupted into his chest at the question. But it was there, bursting from his gut and up his throat and making his chest constrict and his fingers tingle.

He hadn’t exactly ever danced before, no. Certainly not the dancing that they were doing down at the ball. And usually, the opportunity was one he would have swiftly turned down, but here, with Lance, in this private little room, for the first time ever, he was inclined to go along with it.

So he replied saying, “I’m a quick learner.” And Lance smiled.

“Follow my lead then?”

Kethek smiled, unable to help himself as he huffed out a chuckle at the fact that he’d been following Lance since the moment he’d arrived, and would so willingly, without having to be asked.

“Always.” He told him, The word more breathy than he had expected it to be.

There was no denying the tint of pink that graced Lance’s checks at that with how close they were to one another, but Kethek didn't imagine that the state of his own coloring was all that much better. Especially when Lance took his hand in his and guided it to press into Lance’s side, holding his hand over it for a long moment, eyes never leaving Kethek’s, before he moved it away to rest on Kethek's shoulder.

Kethek obediently kept his hand on the junction of Lance’s waist, though it made his heart feel too big and beat too fast, leaving him with only enough mental capacity to hope to god that his hands were not clammy.

From the ballroom below, a sweet, slow melody wafted up into their little space, filling the room with delicate noise.

Lance stepped slowly to the left, bringing Kethek with him through the movement. Then stepped back. Forwards then back, another sidestep and then Kethek understood the pattern. They spun slowly around the room, their eyes locked on to each other’s, a million words hanging in the breaths that fanned out onto the others skin.

Lance was so close to him. He could feel his chest pressed against his and the beat of his heart beneath it. He was warm. Delicate. As though Kethek held something precious.

Feeling heavy with the proximity, Kethek pulled away, but only so he could extend his arm into the air and spin Lance around their clasped hands. Lance flushed a soft pink and smiled at the floor, twirling gracefully before he landed back into Kethek’s arms.

The prince chuckled, eyes glittering as brightly as his jewels.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dance, you certainly do it well.”

“You make it easy.” Kethek replied, realizing that he truly had no control over his tongue anymore. Not when Lance was so close, in his arms, pressed along his middle and warm as they swayed back and forth together without the eyes of anyone but themselves falling onto each other.

“I’m surprised you’re doing this.” Lance admitted gently as they swayed.

“Why?” Kethek asked, scowling, the impulse to ask the question driving him to do so without prior thought coming into play at all.

“It’s not hard to see the walls you’ve built, Kethek. But you don’t have to protect yourself from me. I want to know you. I don’t want to be strangers.”

A moment passed while they held each others gazes, mindlessly stepping along to the music.

This time, when Kethek asked a question, he’d thought about it considerably before it left his mouth. But his better judgement was constantly losing out to his curiosity and overall desire to talk to Lance.

“What do you want to know.” Kethek asked, letting himself endulge, even if it was just slightly.

And it’s then that Lance blushes. He looks down, almost sheepishly, but the gentle happiness that he wore doesn’t leave his demeanor.

“I think, so far, I’ve come to know your mind.” Lance begins. “You’re spirit. I can see that you care… deeply… about many things perhaps, though what specifically I’m not sure I could name. But you care. That’s plain as day.”

“I know that you’re strong. I know that you don’t back down from a just fight. That you’re loyal and skilled. The things you do, you do well. With mastery and precision.”

“I know you carry a weight on your shoulders and a weapon on your hip almost constantly. That weight being something bigger than this mission of protecting me. Something heavy weighs you down. Something that comes from your heart.”

“I want to know your heart Kethek. I want to know what you love. What you treasure. What memories make you smile. Why you said that you don’t let anyone in. I want to know your pain and your joy.”

Lance chuckled, presumably at himself and shook his head. “I want more than I think you’re willing to give me. What you’re willing to give anyone, maybe. And I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable and I don’t expect answers. I only want you to know that I think I’ve become… rather captivated. And desiring to know you… the way I dream to be able to, has been just about all I can think about.”

Silence passes after the confession. Kethek’s heart swells and panics simultaneously. He wants to tell him everything he wants to hear as equally as he wants to run out the door and away from this moment.

More silence fills the space between them and Kethek, who had since averted his gaze from Lance’s, can tell only through the tension rising in the air that Lance is feeling regret.

“I’m… '' he says slowly. “I’m sorry if that-“

“My parents died when I was 6 years old.” Kethek said, blurting out the words in a rush before he can stop himself.

He looks to Lance again, finally meeting his eyes and seeing that they are wide with shock. Pained.

“That’s one thing I don’t tell anyone.” He took a deep breath, unconsciously squeezing the hand in Lance’s just a bit tighter.

My mother was a Marmoran spy like me. She left on a mission when I was still a baby and never came back. My father raised me in her absence, but was killed in a fire. From then on, I was an orphan. Taken care of in various orphanages until I was recruited for the war effort when I was 18. I was forced into the Galran army in the draft and saw for myself what the Galra were doing to innocent planets and people. So I’d try and sabotage missions in small ways without getting caught, until I ran into the Blade of Marmora. They saw me carrying my mother’s blade and took me in. I’ve been with them ever since.

“Kethek…” Lance breathed, looking a little shocked. “I… I had no idea.”

“The Galra captured and killed my best friend.” He continued. “My whole life since I got wrapped up in this war had centered around making sure he doesn’t die in vain.”

“And… every minute I’ve spent here with you, has given me a bit more of that hope that I’ve had much of my adult life take from me. You, Lance, have given me back that hope.”

The prince stared at him, their dance having long since stopped while Lance looked into Kethek with a dumbfounded expression. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting any of that from Kethek. Kethek hadn’t expected any of it from himself either.

And then Kethek saw that Lance was blushing. The dim light of the room had made it hard to see at first, but the longer he kept his gaze on him, the more apparent it became.

“There’s really so much more to you than you ever let on, isn’t there.” The prince marveled softly.

Kethek didn’t respond. He didn’t think a response was expected, it was just Lance musing aloud as he tended to do sometimes. But the look he gave him cut deep, as though Lance was trying to look straight into his core.

“I'm trying to think of something I could tell you to reciprocate but I’m not sure that there’s anything I could say about myself that you don’t already know.” He said, chuckling somewhat nervously.

And Kethek found himself smiling at that.

“Lance,” he said with a little chuckle. “You’ve done nothing but surprise me since the moment I arrived.”

The pink in Lance’s cheeks brightens, a new, softer smile growing in his lips, eyes shining and happy.

“That seems like something you’d be angry about or become overwhelmed by.”

“Oh and you know you did both anger and overwhelm me.” Kethek laughed, and Lance giggled too, blushing more.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled, looking down shyly did the first time since the conversation had started, eyelashes long and fanning over his cheeks. “I didn’t make it easy for you.”

“Yeah... But I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Kethek admits, squeezing the hand that Lance had clasped in his.

The moment settles around them then, the following silence bringing a comforting and illuminating stillness to the air around them, to their closeness and the feeling of warmth that radiated wherever Kethek made contact with Lance.

“Can I confess something to you, Kethek?” Lance said; his voice small as he tentatively flicked his eyes back up to his.

Kethek quirked a brow, smirking a bit.

He nodded and Lance bit his lip.

“Maybe it’s not a confession… so much as a confirmation at this point… because I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at keeping it from you. I’ve never been good at that.”

And it’s then that it hits him. Suddenly and painfully, like a smack in the face. Because now that Lance had said that, he realized he might really, actually know what Lance is going to say and the residual panic of that realization hits him hard.

They’re so close, pressed up against each other and alone.

This is romantic. This is so very romantic. Lance was courting him. He’d been actively courting him this whole time. Kethek was the person Lance snuck away with, like Allura had said he would. He didn’t know why it shocked him so much, all the signs had been there all along, as clear as day, and yet this… The reality of this had still somehow had escaped him.

Alarm bells ring out in his head, the mantra of “abort” making his head spin and his heart pound.

He stepped away fast, a stinging cold shocking him in all the places Lance’s touch had been, leaving him feeling empty.

His face hardens and his posture stiffens.

How had he let himself get this far? How had he come so close to fucking everything up?!

“We shouldn’t be here.” He said, voice firm and devoid of any of its earlier warmth. “This should never have happened. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I need to be heading security, we need to leave.”

The expression that melted on to Lance’s face was crippling. Eyes wide and pained, jaw tight with what Kethek hoped to god weren’t tears.

But Lance just cleared his throat, looking so horribly sad as he looks back down and away from Kethek, his body language making him look as though he’s caving in on himself, becoming smaller. Kethek feels the hurt in his eyes viscerally and almost loses it again.

But instead he goes to the door, opens it, and ushers Lance out, looking anywhere but Lance’s eyes in the hopes of not having to see the pain in his expression again. The confusion and the embarrassment and the heartbreak all rolled into one.

They walked back towards the ball in silence before Lance, in a feeble voice, requested that he be taken back to his room, and when they arrived, the rush to get inside and away from Kethek was clear and biting.

He watched the door shut and his chest ached so much Kethek swore it could have cracked.

It takes all of his power to turn away. It takes everything he has not to go in after him and finish what Lance has started. But he can’t. He knows he can’t.

Not ever.

Chapter Text

For the first time in his life, Lance felt miserable during the summer festival.

He’d been so stupid… so hopelessly stupid and naive. His heart ached and his head pounded. Everything hurt to the point where he felt like he was going to die.

At the very least, he had managed to hold back tears just long enough to get away from Kethek, but once his bedroom door had closed behind him, he was on his bed sobbing, curled up and sniffly in a very not attractive way. He cried until he was tired enough to sleep but his head throbbed the second he woke up, reminding him of all his woes and sending him into another onslaught of tears.

He had been obvious hadn’t he? He had been so, so quiznacking blatant about his intentions.

A part of him thought he could hold out hope of the possibility that Kethek was just socially impaired enough to not have known the meaning of all his advances, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew that the reason Kethek had pulled back so abruptly, cut Lance off in the middle of his confession and avoided eye contact with him the whole way back was because Kethek knew what he’d been trying to do and decided he didn’t like it. Didn’t want it, not even letting him finish his thought before he was shutting the whole thing down.

The worst part of it all was that Lance still didn’t know why. He thought… felt quite strongly that… that Kethek, at least in some ways, had similar feelings to his own, but apparently he was wrong. So, so wrong.

Lance’s lip wobbled and his eyes stung with the threat of more tears and his heart ached and god, he could not possibly fathom facing him again. He knew he would have to, but the whole idea of it made Lance want to puke.

It was still early enough that he had time before Kethek would show up, and the thought of him knocking on his door and potentially seeing him in the state he was currently in shot him straight out of bed.

If he had to see him, it wouldn’t be looking like a heartbroken mess. He would look damn good, and make Kethek regret ever letting him go. Though if Kethek hadn’t ever wanted him in the first place, it would have no effect on him, and he knew that… but that was an idea that hurt too much to truly entertain.

And though Lance would like to say that the thought of looking like a snotty, snobby mess gave him enough motivation to jump into the day, tear free, he could not keep himself from sniffling and wiping away tears the entire time that he got dressed.

His mother had always said he’d had a fragile heart. That he should protect it. Keep himself from falling for people he knew wouldn’t love him as much as he could love them. If she were here he would have gone straight to her. Told her everything. Regardless of the problems that might ensue from him having feelings for a Galra soldier. He’d like to think she’d be understanding.

If she were here, the hatred for the Galra would be less severe though. Not like it is now. If he still had his parents, maybe even Allura would support him.

But they were gone and the war was worse than ever. These feelings were unfounded and horribly ill timed. Not that time would make a difference.

He was depressed and sad and heartbroken and every bad feeling all at once. But he refused to look like it.

Today’s outfit was, in Lance’s opinion, one of his sexiest. Lots of skin, lots of chest, sleeveless, form fitting, pretty. It was hot outside, so he’d use that as his excuse for his choice of garments rather than the actual reason, and he was pretty sure it was fool proof enough. All that was left to do was to stop quiznacking crying, god damnit.

He looked himself over at his vanity mirror, scrubbed at his eyes and dabbed around the puffy bruising with makeup until there was no sign at all of the damage done the night before.

Now, all that’s left to do was wait. Wait for Kethek, the Galran rebel spy, the guard tasked with protecting him with his life, the red paladin, and the man who had openly rejected his courtship and seemed like he could not get away from Lance fast enough.

Stars, he could not cry right now. Not after all the effort he’d put in to make himself look normal and not heartbroken, quiznack.

But alas, after just a few more moments of waiting after he was ready, a knock sounded at the door. Not an Allura or Hunk or Coran knock. This was a Kethek knock, plain as day.

It sent ice into his core, back going rigid and heart pounding, head swimming.

Kethek’s arrival was timely and terrifying, sending jolts of panic through him as the knock rang out through his room.

The prince of Altea was not known to scramble or flounder. The prince of Altea was poised and diplomatic. Regal and well tempered. Ready to join a fight with a strong will and bravery to match, but never one to start it. These were all things he was supposed to be, and usually managed to be. That is, until Kethek came into question. Because when Kethek was involved, he was clumsy, unsure, meek, and he scrambled and floundered like there was no tomorrow.

And maybe there would be no tomorrow for him. Maybe he’d walk right out of this room and die before Kethek could fend them off. Before he could defend himself. Maybe he’d regret his hesitance to confront Kethek about why he’d rejected him more than he’d regret having tried his luck. Maybe this was all for not, but right now, in this moment, he wasn’t dying, and was only capable of viewing this entire circumstance in the most negative way possible. No matter how much it made him sick to his stomach as he readied himself to exit.

Lance held his breath as the door opened. Didn’t take a breath as he stepped out, kept holding it in as he started to walk down the hall, not daring to turn and look to see Kethek fall into step behind him.

It was just like it was at the start of all this. The maintained distance, the stupid, petty refusal to make nice and be closer than a foot apart. Only this time, he didn’t hate Kethek anymore… he didn’t hate him at all. Not in the same ways.

The mere presence of him at his back was enough to send Lance into what felt like cardiac arrest. He was boiling over and only just barely managed to keep his emotions hidden.

Kethek on the other hand, much to Lance’s dismay, seemed to have no such problems. Lance suspected it was because he either had no emotion to hide, or he was just really good at keeping his feelings to himself. Something that Lance had never been great at. Maybe it was a little bit of both. Lance wanted it to be a little bit of both, because if Kethek really just felt…. nothing? It would break him even more.

He had to get it together though. Today was the last day of the festival, which meant he’d be “seeing” his parents, as per tradition, and he didn’t want anything to make it more tumultuous than it already had been. Not that he’d be able to appreciate much of the things that would be happening for the festival today.

The second day had always been his favorite. It was the day when the townspeople put our their best produce, set up games, cooked and provided a meal that the whole kingdom came together to enjoy. It was the one day of the year that the royal family could take off and didn’t have duties to attend to, they were welcomed into the towns with grand parades and celebrations.

His father had met Hunks mothers at their bakery on this day years ago when they were pregnant with Hunk and invited them to work at the castle. This was on this day that he’d met Romelle and established a relationship with her that got him out of the castle more as a child and introduced him to the towns and villages that he’d soon have the duty of providing for and protecting.

Of course as a child, he’d not been able to go anywhere without an entire squad of guards on his heels, watching his every move and drawing attention to him wherever they’d go. (Not all that unlike today) but back then it wasn’t because his life was at risk but because he was a young prince with a penchant for getting into mischief.

Being protected had never been something uncommon throughout his life. If ever he was outside of the castle there was always some kind of a security detail that was with him. But he got a bit of distance then. He was able to go to market and see his friends and walk through the castle without someone at his heels. Without the fear of his life being threatened.

Now he had Kethek. Always. Every hour of every day. And the worst thing was that he’d started to not mind it.

Today, the festivities would go on without him outside of the castle, and a select few people, all of whom Lance personally chose, would come to him instead for a private celebration of their own.

Whereas the first day of the festival was more flamboyant, the second day was the day to recognize your roots and honor the traditions of those who came before you. It was a day for family, for close friends, and unity amongst neighbors.

It was a day for being with those you loved… and this year, the idea of who constituted as loved ones was a bit more complicated. Many of the people he loved, he couldn’t be with… in many ways. His father and mother were taken from him by war. His sister was taken from him by duty and stress. His friends in the villages who would not be joining him this evening, taken from him by the galra and the threat they posed to his life, and Kethek-

Well… Kethek hadn’t actually ever been his enough to constitute this situation they were in now as one where Kethek was “taken” from him.

All this to say that Lance felt very alone. Which made the tradition of talking to his parents seem more appealing than it had in the past.

After his parents deaths, seeing them as holograms rather than living and breathing people had always just made him… horribly sad.

But today… today there was anxiousness instead.

The conversations were one on one. Intimate and special. An opportunity to speak openly and have the words exists only between you and your loved one. Allura would be talking with their father first, he assumed. That’s usually how it went. So he would go to see his mother first.

His bond with her had always been the strongest. He and his mother were closer than most. Or that’s at least what it had felt like.

Lance had told her everything. Even the things that were less… innocent. Because she was his confidant. Lance knew she would never judge him, so he felt safe to tell her everything.

Nowadays it was different. Lance rarely went to speak with her, unlike. Allura, who spoke to their father constantly.

Lance didn’t like seeing his mother as a hologram. It was only a reminder that she was dead. Gone and requiring technology to manifest the idea of her rather than her actually being there in front of him.

It had kept him away for a long while. Kept him from going to see them throughout the years, saving the time that he had to for this day of the festival, and this day alone.

But hologram of not, Lance felt that he really needed to see her. After everything… after avoiding her for so long… he was itching to hear her voice. Things had been different this year.

Kethek, who, as always, had been alerted to Lance’s schedule beforehand, knew to stand outside the room and wait. He didn’t look at Lance as he moved into position, standing at the ready, and the pang of hurt that was sent through Lance’s chest at the complete lack of acknowledgement had him running through the doors before tears came to his eyes again, letting out a little choke of hurt as soon as the doors shut behind him.

He stood, immersed in the desperate effort of trying to reign back his emotions when a voice, melodic and sweet rang out around him, echoing off the walls and through his mind.

“Oh darling… I did not expect to see you on this day in tears.”

Lance startled a bit at the voice, but it soothes him in almost the same moment, like a blanket of silk floating down to rest over his shoulders and offer him comfort.

A comfort only she could give him

“...Mother.” He whispered, turning towards her.

Her figure glowed brightly in the dim room. She was ethereal and strong, standing before him.

Lance had almost forgotten how kind her eyes were. Blue like his and gentle as they gazed up at him.

Lance approached, slowly, and his mother extended her hands in offering.

Lance moved to place his over hers, meeting nothing but air when he did, but he kept them raised, hovering above hers so that it looked like they were clasped together.

Her glowing hologram fingers curved around the edges of his palm, her gaze never leaving his as they stood together in what semblance of an embrace that they could manage.

“You’ve grown so much…” she marvels, looking up into Lance’s watery eyes. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me. And every time you do, you look… so grown.”

His mother reaches out a hand to touch his face, gentle and soft, and Lance knows that nothing is actually there, but he swears he can feel the warmth of her fingertips on his cheek.

Then, her gaze narrows, eyes drifting down to his neck where Lance knows there to be a fading scar. The scar from the first assasonation attempt.

His mother's hand moved to “touch it,” eyes growing worried the more she considered it.

“I’ve… been dealing with… A lot.” Lance says quietly by way of explanation, his heart positively aching for more reasons than he can count on his fingers.

Her brow furrows in concern and she looks up to him, patient and kind and gentle and with so much love and care in her eyes.

Somehow, it seems she already knows how he’d been scarred without him having to explain. She takes his hands again and looks so… sad.

“Ever since you were a child, I feared for this. I could sense it in you. Your destiny woven within your quintessence. Your connection to the lions was written the day you were born. And I feared… constantly, for the day you would have to confront that fate and the danger that came with it.”

“I’m… I'm sorry I can’t be there to protect you. Help you…”

Lance shook his head, brows pinched together and tears rimming his eyes.

“You prepared me well for this. Protected me and loved me so much that I still carry it with me today. I want nothing more than for you to be able to rest peacefully. I don’t want you worried for me anymore.”

His mother smiled at him, brushing a phantom hand over his cheek again.

“You’re a grown man now, Lance. With a beautiful soul and a stronger spirit. I know you’re strong enough to face this. But you're my baby… I’m always going to worry for you.”

Lance felt like his chest was caving in. His breaths shallow and shaky as he looked down at his mother.

“Love comes with worry and sacrifice. If you love, you worry, and when you love, it’s not yourself that comes first. And Lance, you are so loved. Which means that you are surrounded with worry and people who would risk themselves for you.”

“Try to understand these sacrifices as love. Not as hierarchy or obligation.”

“You’re talking about Allura.” Lance said, speaking it like an answer though it was truly a question.

“Not just your sister…” his mother smiled. “But yes.” She cares for you so deeply. And I know you love her just as much. Don’t let that love, and the sacrifice that comes with it separate you. Allow yourself to love bravely. It can only bring you closer.”

And something about that… about his mother's words… hit him in a place he hadn’t expected.

He started to cry, once again, before he could even realize it was happening enough to put a stop to it.

He was crying, and his mother looked up to him with sympathy, but also with more of that slightly unsettling understanding.

“Ah… so my theory was correct.” She muses with a little smile.

Lance sniffled and wiped at his eyes, giving his mother a confused look.

“These are the same tears as the ones you first entered with.”

“You have a broken heart.”

Lance recoiled slightly, eyes going wide and body stiffening at the implications of her words.

“I could tell as soon as you walked in. You have a heavy heart. A new love. One that has not been returned.”

“I’m not in love, mother.” Lance said, a little defensively.

“Perhaps you don’t think so.” His mother replied. “But I can see it.”

“So I offer you the same advice. Love bravely, my dear. You’ve always had a talent for openness and an incredible capacity for care. But it becomes harder to be brave when you are unsure if it will be returned. I know though, that you’ll find more satisfaction and fulfillment in the effort to try than you will in pushing your feelings away.”

“I’m not so sure you’d be saying that if you knew… the whole story.”

“What I know is that my son is hurting.” His mother replied. “And that he is smart, and he is wise, and his judgement is strong. You love easily and you commit with such ferocity. You hesitate only when you feel particularly strongly. And I can see that in you now. Whoever has made you this way, no matter who they are, must be an incredible soul. You are not one to choose poor commitments.”

Lance gave a little huff, wiping again at his eyes. He wanted to argue, but even now, after everything… he knew… he knew that Kethek was good. And he couldn’t argue otherwise.

“Today is a day to celebrate and be with loved ones. Be with whoever fits that description. Celebrate them. Cherish your bonds. They are more valuable than any riches you possess.”

“And Lance?” She asked.

Lance looked up to her from where she had again placed her hands around his.

“I’m always here for you. Ok? Physically or not. I’m with you always”

___

This time, when Lance left the room. He didn’t have time to school his expression into a normal one before confronting Kethek like he had this morning. He walked right out with puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. He didn’t care.

Love bravely, she had said. So maybe this would be the start.

If Kethek noticed, he didn’t comment. Lance didn’t look at him to see the expression in his face. He allowed himself to just walk past. Allowed himself to focus on calming down enough before he went to meet his guests.

But, as always, Kethek catches him off guard yet again.

“Are you ok, your highness.”

The question isn’t so much a question, more of a statement. There’s no lilt to his voice at the end of his sentence. He’s firm. Calm. Unemotional. And it pisses Lance off.

His mother's wisdom falls from the front of his mind and his response, much to his near instant regret, is a spitting “why would you care.”

He doesn’t look back at Kethek to glean a reaction from him. He’s not sure he’d be able to handle any reaction he gave, if at all. If it was nothing, if his face remained blank, that would hurt. But if he made him look upset or hurt himself? Well that could hurt more.

But Lance wanted him to hurt. He wanted so badly for him to show any sign that Lance wasn’t crazy. That he cared what Lance thought about him. That he cared about him.

So he chooses to not look at all. And he chooses then, to leave a conversation with his father for another day. He doesn’t think he has it in him right now.

His mother and his father's consciousnesses were held in two separate rooms, the technology required to conjure them was too much to put them together. Beyond the podium where their image stood was a vast labyrinth of ingenuity and magic, storing an entire life’s worth of data in code. Technology that could one day hold his memories too. Memories of this very moment, if he so chose to do so.

His hologram could one day recount his memories of this moment to someone. Maybe his child. Or Allura’s. Or Allura herself if Lance didn’t make it out of this assasination thing.

The thought of that… of Allura having the entirety of her family survived only by technology. Allura, alone and broken with three souls she could only visit but never touch.

It created a tightness in his chest. A stirring of discomfort and pain. Of panic. One that made his mind desperate to shift on to other topics. Desperate for a distraction from the fate he’d die regretful for having to give Allura. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his palms and walked right past his father's room and away from Kethek.

Their guests weren’t due to arrive until later, which meant he had a dreadful amount of time to kill today now that he’d cut his family visits short.

So he ended up just walking aimlessly, Kethek following diligently behind him as they wound through the castle halls.

He pretended he was alone. Pretended that Kethek wasn't questioning where Lance was taking them, which he probably, most definitely was. He tried to pretend Kethek wasn’t there at all. Right behind him. On this planet, in this solar system, in his life and was frustrated to find that same nagging pain and discomfort filling him up again at the thought. The thought of not having Kethek.

Which is why it startled him all the more when Kethek was suddenly speaking to him, voice low from over his shoulder.

“I do care, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes flew wide, quickly flitting around look to the guards posted along the walls of the hall with worry.

Calling him by his name, informally, right in the middle of the hallway, out in the open and vulnerable to be heard by the ears of at least six different Altean’s was not Kethek’s style.

Lance whirled around on his heel to face him before thinking better of it and was met with a dark, deep scowl. One different from his usual scowl.

This one held… emotion.

Lance didn’t know what to make of it. Other than that Kethek must be trying to prove some kind of a point. Some stupid, self sacrificing point.

“You don’t get to tell me you care about me.” Lance said through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to come back and act like you care after… after blatantly proving the opposite to me.”

“Your highness-“ Kethek says lowly again.

“Oh so it’s your highness again, is it now? Say, when and how do you decide to treat me like a person rather than an assignment?! How does that work?”

“Highness-“ Kethek says, a little more desperately. But Lance doesn’t notice that his eyes slightly widen and that they no longer are completely trained on him. In that moment, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to care. He continues, ignoring him and clenching his fists tighter.

But when he opens his mouth to retort, he’s interrupted again.

Kethek screams his name. His actual name again, not his title, and he’s suddenly yanking him by his cape, pulling him behind himself and Lance doesn’t have to wonder why when the instant he is still again, he hears a clang of metal on metal. Kethek’s sword held against another, protecting him.

In an instant, everything flipped 180 degrees and suddenly there were ten figures in dark purple suits surrounding him and Kethek, descended from the thin are above their heads.

Lance heart basically falls out of his chest, but he doesn’t waste another second before drawing his bayard, willing it with only a small moment of doubt to form a sword. The same kind of sword they had been training with, and in a breath, his bayard glowed and thankfully… thankfully he was able to do it.

There was no time to have even a second of celebration though. As soon as the sword materialized it met the blade of another, and then another and then another.

Lance scrambled frantically to remember his training, Kethek’s voice filling his head. Be aware of your surroundings. Use your offense as defense if you can. Remember your proper stance. Keep your core strong.

He didn’t know if it was more luck or actually that he’d gotten the hang of Kethek’s teachings enough to hold his own but he was holding his Own. At least enough to defend against close range attacks while Kethek went on the offensive, taking out assassins two at a time and landing hits.

Lance wasn’t landing hits, but he tried to remind himself that he didn’t need to. What was important was that he kept them from landing hits on him.

It was moments later that the Altean guard arrived to help Kethek and then finally, finally, they achieved the upper hand.

Kethek’s voice, his gentle touches and directions, his brutal demonstrations and exploitation of where Lance was weakest all flew to the front of his mind, locking his limbs into the proper stance, forcing him to see the room in one hundred and eighty degrees.

He didn’t think, he acted. He defended. He used offense as his defense. To defend himself and Kethek. He wasn’t going to be useless. He’d protect them both. He wouldn’t make Kethek do this on his own.

The assassins, he realized now that he had gotten into the fight enough, were unidentifiable. They wore dark violet bodysuits that covered their whole face. Only the burning gold of their eyes could be seen through the mask. There were 10 of them who had come. Ten assassins who were almost too quick to pin down. Who moved like a gust of wind through the trees, dodging every strike fluidly until someone got lucky and landed a hit.

But Lance held his own. He really did. He fought off every attack and felt somewhat confident doing it. He didn’t flinch at the sight of blood. He wasn’t weak. He was prepared for this.

And then he wasn’t.

Like glass shattering, all at once and faster than Lance could comprehend, it seemed like they had won. It seemed like there was no one left to fight.

Kethek struck down the last of the original ten assassins and there was a stillness that settled around them. An eerie silence. Like the world was holding its breath.

Then, from a cloud of black smoke, dark and thick, a new figure. One whose feet didn’t touch the ground. Whose face was obscured by a pointed mask and whose body was shrouded by a long violet cloak.

It happened so quickly… so fast that the figure, as much as he’d been able to see of them, was gone just as quickly as they had arrived. But not before a scream. His name, ripping from the lungs of none other than Kethek, loud and shrill, cutting through his ears just before the sound of a blade sinking through flesh.

He blinked, confused, consumed by the sudden silence after a loud cry of gasps. It wasn’t him who had fallen.

Quickly he turned and the clarity he had been lacking hit him without an ounce of restraint.

In front of him, Kethek, slightly hunched over, was standing between him and an eleventh assassin. One Lance hadn't seen in the previous fight. The assassin who now lay dead on the ground, stabbed through the heart with a blade. Kethek’s blade.

It’s then that his heart stops. His body freezes and understanding sweeps over him in a rush of sheer terror.

His hands find Kethek’s shoulders and turn him around frantically. Desperately, eyes falling directly to the area of concern.

There, right in Kethek’s stomach, rests a long blade, buried to the hilt.

Lance’s head goes blank. His eyes wide and his ears ringing, his breaths moving from completely still to ragged and frantic as the sight registers in his brain.

Kethek had been stabbed. Stabbed through the stomach with a blade that had been meant for Lance’s back.

Lance’s breath catches, his heart stops and his body begins to shake out of his control.

“Oh.. oh my god. Kethek- Oh my GOD!!!” Lance cried, his eyes flying open as he observed the area Kethek was clutching.

Frantically he flounders, hands shaking over the hilt of the blade and tears filling his eyes. He’s horrified, panicked and unsure, trying to figure out what to do. But then he’s suddenly being jostled aside by the other guards, so many guards that the sight of Kethek is quickly obscured. But not before Lance catches a glimpse of Kethek moving to grasp at his wounds with both of his hands and hunch forward, letting out another choke as blood drips from his lips.

Crying and finally back to his senses, he shoves his way through the guards, back towards Kethek only to see his eyes roll back in his head. And then, he collapsed, falling to the ground, motionless.

Lance jumps forward to catch him just before his head hits the ground, and Kethek lands in a heap in his arms, the heavy dead weight pulling Lance down with him.

He only gets a few tics. A few long ticks to observe Kethek, head lolled back over his arm that holds him up to keep him off the ground. A few ticks to get a horrible up close look at the blade lodged through his body, and the horrifying amount of blood draining from it and onto the fabric of his pants.

It takes him only a tick to scream his name and be pulled back and away from his guard again. Back in the chaos, Kethek’s body now being handled by someone new. A doctor.

But it barely registers. All of it, all sound, droned out into muffled shouts and commands as the ringing in Lance’s ears increased. He watched, wide eyed and in horror at the blur of more people who had flocked to the scene. Allura arrived moments after, called by one of the castle guards along with the Altean medical staff. Coran, who had come with her, had cleared the room of any non essential personnel, and the world moved at rapid speed around him, but Lance… just stood still. Stood in the tornado of chaos surrounding him, sobbing.

He distantly felt someone pull him back and away. Distantly he felt them check him over, talk words he could barely hear.

What he managed to catch was a nurse near Kethek saying that he had stopped breathing. They couldn’t find his pulce, and everything Lance could comprehend left him confused and terrified and at a loss for words. His face stuck in the same horrified wide eyed mouth gaping expression.

Lance was shaking as he heard muffled voices talking loudly around him, shaking when he felt someone lift him off of his feet and into their arms in a hurry. He wasn’t sure if he was screaming, or if it was just in his head, but his throat felt hoarse and numb and he distantly recognized that the people around him were shushing and trying to calm him.

He was shaking, being ushered farther and farther away from Kethek who lay bleeding on the floor, the puddle of blood around him thick and dark. When a group of people went to move him onto a stretcher, Lance caught one last glimpse of Kethek, sword lodged in his stomach and covered in blood before everything went black.

___

The first thing Lance could remember happening next is a bright white light, burning his eyes and then, consciousness. Fully and terrifyingly he rose back out of sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but he knew exactly where he was as soon as he looked around.

His bedroom suddenly felt big and threatening and a terror unlike anything he’d ever felt made him go still. Images of a bloody and broken Kethek consuming his consciousness. Terror and shame. Deep, guttural, aching shame that made bile rise up his throat and a sickness consume his body. He’d been right there, and still, he was useless. In spite of all the training, all the effort, Kethek had taken the blow for him. Jumped in front of a sword for him. Sacrificed his life for him. Because Lance had been completely unprepared.

Tears filled his eyes, and he was about to let out a sob when a figure suddenly rose into his peripheral vision.

A pang of panic shot through him like lightning and before he could think to do anything else, Lance was scrambling upright, terror coursing through him as his hand went to his hip for his gun and aimed to shoot, body bent in fear, he realized all too late that it was Hunk. Hunk who had thrown up his hands, looking scared and very unsuspecting of Lance’s outburst.

“Buddy, hey it’s me! It’s ok! It’s ok! You’re safe!” He said in a rushed voice.

Immediately Lance lowered his gun, more shame rising as he realized that he’d just pointed a gun at his best friend.

Everything seemed to fall apart in that same moment, sobs choked out of him, his heart broke under what felt like millions of pounds of pressure, and tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks, unrelenting and thick.

Within the next tic, Hunks arms were surrounding him, hugging him and shushing him, doing what he could to soothe him.

“Hey, hey, buddy, you're alright. You’re ok, ok? Everything’s fine now. You’re safe.” Hunk comforted, rubbing his back. “It’s alright. You’re ok.”

“But- but Kethek!” Lance sobbed… “Kethek- he-“

“He’s in a healing pod, Lance. They were able to revive him.”

Lance’s heart stops cold, his eyes flying wide as he pulls away to look at Hunk.

“He’s alive?!” Lance says with a sob.

Hunk nods, continuing to stroke Lance’s back. “He’ll be ok, Lance.”

Lance buried his face in his hands and let out moan, heart seizing up and making him dizzy.

“Oh thank the stars…” he whimpered. “Quiznack… thank the ancients!”

Hunk watched his friend and frowned, Lance catching the expression out of the corner of his eye and refusing to look at it. It was one of his signature worried looks, and Lance simply would not be able to handle meeting his eyes.

But Hunk, quiznacking bless him, makes it easy on him, handing him a bundle of something that he didn’t realize he’d been holding and offers it to Lance.

Made fresh this morning. I thought it might help calm you down.

Lance takes the small bundle and opens the cloth to reveal one of Lance’s favorite pastries that Hunk makes. A fluffy dough, rolled out into a long cylinder, tied into a knot, and baked with a glazing of churned milk and savory spices.

Lance’s eyes teared up yet again, and he immediately went to hug Hunk, squeezing him tight and feeling relief from the comfort Hunk effortlessly emanated when he squeezed back.

“The pod is saying that he could take several quintants to come out, no less than 6… no more than 18. Hunk explains, choosing carefully the next moment of silence that permits the explanation of these rather unhappy things.

But in spite of his efforts, Lance pulled back fast, eyes wide and worried.

“18?!” He nearly shrieks.

Hunk shushes him, nodding cautiously as he pats Lance’s arm.

“The doctors say he’s likely to make a full recovery, he just needs a bit more time.

“Where is he now?” Lance asked then, hands fisting the silken sheets of his bed.

“In the west medical wing in one of the healing pods.” Hunk answered. “But Lance… he’s… he’s not looking too good. I’m not sure if-“

“I need to go see him.” Lance said determinant, standing up sharply.

“Woah buddy, slow down…” Hunk said, holding up his hands and standing between Lance and the doors. “I’ve also been told to call someone if you want to leave. The a new Blade is being briefed now, and until then, you’ve either gotta stay here or go out with half the royal guard surrounding you.”

Lance huffed our a frustrated whimper and found himself literally wanting to stomp his foot like a child.

“Hunk, Kethek almost died! For me! How can I just- how can I just sit here?!”

You aren’t a doctor Lance, you’re a prince. You wouldn’t be able to do anything more for him anyways. He’s in great hands.

“I should be there with him. I should…. I should just… make sure he doesn’t wake up alone!”

“Didn’t you hate the guy, like… two tics ago?” Hunk asked, quirking a brow.

“I still hate him.” Lance said adamantly, a pout carved into his face. “But he gave his life to protect me. I can’t turn my back on that.”

“No one can, Lance. Not even Allura. And by that I mean If you're worried that they won’t give him proper treatment because he’s Galra, I wouldn’t.” They all know what he did. They’re not going to be malicious towards him.

Lance sighed, long and upset, his hands finding their way to the back of his neck as more tears flooded his eyes.

“He shouldn’t be in that pod in the first place…” he whimpered. “It shouldn’t have happened. I should have….” He sighs again, not finishing his sentence, and squeezes his eyes shut, letting all the tears escape down his cheeks.

“This is all my fault.”

“You know that’s not true Lance.” Hunk said, his words an odd mix of stern and gentle at the same time.

And then, with a sigh and a reluctant shake of his head, he stood up.

“But I’ll go talk to Allura. See what can be done.”

Lance looked up to his friend and his lip wobbled with the millionth onslaught of tears that threatened to consume him again, because as difficult and stupid as this had been, he had never not had Hunk. Strong, steady, and caring Hunk. The one person on the planet he could feel equal to. Who wasn’t afraid to tell him straight in the most… kind and understanding of ways.

He sniffed, and then he was diving into Hunks arms again, hugging him so tight.

“I love you Hunk.” He whimpered into Hunks shirt, his voice muffled. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and I appreciate you so, so much.”

Hunk chuckled and rubbed Lance’s back.

“Love you too, buddy. He smiled. This will all work out, alright? I promise.”

Lance nodded into his shoulder and gave him one last big squeeze before letting him go, wiping at his eyes and trying, though he knew it wouldn’t make much of a difference, to not look as pathetic as he felt.

Hunk playfully nudged his shoulder and smiled, trying to cheer him up.

“It’s going to be ok, yeah?” Hunk said again, this time waiting for a reply.

And he only moved towards the door when Lance gave a feeble “yeah” in response.

“I’ll be back with better news.” Hunk promised, and Lance nodded, wrapping his arms around his middle as he watched him disappear behind the door.

——

It had taken a while for Hunk to come back twelve vargas to be precise. Twelve, long, horrible, excruciating Vargas that lance spent pacing around his room and crying, able to think of nothing but the bloody sword lodged in Kethek’s stomach and the bluish that dropped from the corners of his lips. If he hadn’t had access to Altean healing technology, he would have died. Undoubtedly.

The pods were a miracle of science and magic that only Altean's had managed to create. Others had tried, but nothing could match the ones they had.

The one thing they couldn’t do was bring someone back from the dead. If your body completely shut down, there was nothing the pod could do. It required vitals to register a body and begin the healing process. If you revived someone who was dead before you put them in the pod though, it was possible, but that was only in very rare cases.

It’s what they had tried on his mother back when she had…. when she’d been compromised. It only worked enough to bring her back for a little bit before she passed. Just enough so that he could say goodbye.

His father on the other hand, had not been as lucky. Lance hadn’t seen it when dark on struck him down. He’d been off fighting his own battles and didn’t hear of it until he’d returned, his father already dead and gone and all the lions, nowhere to be found.

It wouldn’t be until Lance discovered Blue on one of his missions off planet that they would come to realize that Alfor had sent them away intentionally, to hide them from Zarkon. Lance assumed that he hadn’t known his son would ever become a paladin himself, and a part of him always felt cheated that he would never know. That discovering his destiny had to come at the loss of his father.

It was all of this, swirling about in his head, that made him feel like he wanted to puke and cry and curl up in a ball, trying to forget, even if just for a moment, all that which caused him strife.

When he actually did attempt the curling up in a ball method, it had been his last resort. His final attempt at finding some comfort, had ended up just making him fall asleep, which, all things considered, was quite the miracle, and one he did not take for granted.

He felt better once he woke, physically at least, and was a little more clear headed. Clear headed and determined.

As soon as he was able, he vowed he’d be there for Kethek, every tick that was available to him. He’d try and return his selfless act in any small way he could, and he’d do it with or without Allura’s permission.

He wasn’t going to let his emotions regarding Kethekget involved either. Kethekneeded…. he deserved someone in his corner. Regardless. Not reciprocating his feelings for him didn’t mean he wasn’t a good person. That was just Lance being selfish.

The opportunity came in the form of Hunk arriving in a rush, apologizing for how long he took, and to warn him that the Altean guard was coming to take him to a briefing with a new Blade. One who hunk explained had just arrived at the castle.

“He’s taller than me…. by a lot.” Hunk explained, sitting down on one of Lance’s chairs, out of breath with wide eyes. He’s the most Galra-y Galra out of them all. He’s got these huge ears, like a cat, you know? Oh and I also heard that all the Galra that were here for the summer festival are gonna stay for support while Kethekrecovers. And Allura, of course, is like… freaking out, because of obvious reasons. She’s doubled security on every entry and exit, and she figured something out, but I didn’t get to talk to her long enough to hear what it was, so that’s apparently what this briefing is about. That and the same stuff like laying down the rules and such.”

“What time are they coming?” Lance asked.

Hunk swallowed and gave a sheepish little smile.

“Like right now. I got here as quick as I could to warn you.”

Lance gasped and shot out of his seat, running straight for his closet without a ticks delay, screaming at Hunk for his terrible forewarning skills and how he was in no way ready for this. Hunk just tried to assure him that it all would work out and it didn’t matter what he looked like, which just caused even more rage from Lance, who shot right back out of his closet, half dressed and trying to shove his elbow through an arm hole of one of his shirts.

“It DOES matter, Hunk!” He yelled. You know who told me that it quiznacking mattered?!? Kethek!!!! Fucking Kethek told me a few days ago that my dressing all pretty and smelling like flowers could make for a bad first impression with the Galra. The man fucking looked up what flower I smelled like because it was that much of a thing for him! For Kethek! The living statue! Who feels no emotion! So don’t you dare tell me appearances don’t matter, Hunk! They MATTER!”

And it’s not that Hunk wanted to be a horrible friend and laugh at his friends panic, but everything about this- hobbling around mad with his head trying to push its way through an arm hole and the entire frantic situation after such a dire past few hours made him want to laugh and appreciate that he was ok.

“Oh, boy, Lance, you’re killing me!” He chuckled, taking Lance’s glares, or what he could see of them through his eyes where his head poked out of a too small hole.

“No, you’re killing ME Hunk! This is no laughing matter! This is serious!”

But Hunk just laughs some more, crossing his arms and leaning back against the.

“Lance, it’s not Kethek, so you have nobody to try and impress. Don’t worry.”

Lance paused and turned to Hunk, his shirt finally on, but backwards.

“I was never trying to impress Kethek.” He said defensively, but Hunk just raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You forget that I know basically everything about you. That means I know what faces you make and what actions mean you’ve fallen head over heels for someone.

Lance looked outraged, but the blush that settled over his cheeks told Hunk that he was right.

Though when he opened his mouth to retort, the knock he’d been dreading rang out through the room. Three raps, short and quick. Not a Kethek nock.

Lance immediately fell still, eyes flying wide and a look of horror consuming his face. Hunk stood up in a rush and shushed him comfortingly.

“You’re ok, Lance, alright? It’s ok. Three things to know just real quick: this shirt has a zipper, it’s on backwards… he began, trying to be soothing as he helped a Blushing Lance correct his state of dress and handed him a comb to smooth out the tousled hair from his battle with his clothing.

“...and his name is Xanten.”

Lance swallowed, still looking nervous and nodded, his fists clenched at his sides.

With one more quick hug, arms squeezing around Hunk and retracting quicker than Hunk could think to hug back. He watched lance clear his throat, straighten his shoulders and walk towards his door, somehow looking as regal and intimidating as ever.

Lance didn’t feel regal of course but he would damn well try to look it.

Immediately when he exited his room he was surrounded by the castle guard, standing around him. They wasted no time in ushering him off to the meeting, their formation densely packed around him like a shield. It made Lance sick to his stomach, but he pushed on. This was only temporary. Just until Kethek recovered. Then he’d be ok.

Arriving at the briefing room and entering to see the same congregation of people that had been present for Kethek’s briefing was a entire other battle though, and this time, he wouldn’t have Hunk to break him out and whisk him off to the blue lions hangar.

Standing in front of their seats in the middle of the long delegation table were Allura, Coran and a very, very tall Galran.

The gut punch of surprise and intimidation was hard to suppress under a neutral expression, but he managed, biting the inside of his cheek before clearing his throat and standing up straight to look out at everyone present. Everyone in the room except for Allura bowed to him, including the Galran… Xanten? Had Hunk said that was his name?

He proceeded with a nod to the open chair next to Allura and the room all took their seats when he did. And just like that, the meeting commenced, Allura starting it off with preliminary details and expectations.

Lance was just trying to look like he hadn’t spent the past several hours crying.

“I’ve called this meeting to discuss the temporary guardianship of the sovereign prince of Altea by Xanten, a Blade appointed by Kethek in the case of his compromisation.”

Lance perked up at that. He had not been aware that Kethek had handpicked a Blade to look after him for this exact situation. It made him a strange mix of guilt and affection that both settled like bile in his gut. He might have known about it had he not escaped the first meeting with Hunk, as it was very likely that’s when Kethek had shared this information, and that fact only made the guilt grow worse.

“-As well as the events of the last attack and how we should proceed in our defense against the Galra.” Allura continued.

“Lance’s previous guard, Kethek, was struck down - nearly killed one quintants ago in the effort of defending the prince from an attack. He is projected to make a full recovery, but may need up to a movement of time to heal and until then, Kethek has appointed Xanten, a member of the Blade will fulfill his duties until his complete recovery.”

Lance allowed himself then to get a glance at the new guard, quickly observing his features before they had a chance to make eye contact.

He was darker than Kethek, with a near violet tint of his skin. His eyes were a similar golden yellow but smaller and more narrow than Kethek’s. His hair was maintained neatly in a braid down his back, a dark almost navy blue that lacked the same purple wisps of purple like Kethek had towards the ends.

The biggest difference was his ears- big and fluffy looking like a cat, where Kethek’s were long and angular, more similar to his own than they were to this Galran’s.

His face didn’t rest in a scowl like Kethek’s, it was nearly perfectly neutral, and he wouldn’t have trusted it or him, had Kethek not been the one to choose him as his replacement. For that, he gave him a chance.

“Though this setback has shaken us, it has in fact given us new information. In their desperation to succeed after many failed attempts to end the princes life, they revealed something most beneficial to our cause.”

“The reports from all those on the scene mention a 12th figure appearing and disappearing at the last moment, dressed differently from the others with a long cloak and pointed mask.”

“It it believed that a Druid aparated onto the scene to serve as a distraction while an 11th guard delivered the final blow. Luckily enough the attempt failed and the Galra have revealed the source of these assassins.”

“The attacks, we now know must be led by Zarkonz witch-Hagar. A disgraced Altean and vile dark alchemist with power greater than we know. If she was behind these attacks, and we believe she is, she could have done much more than send assassins to the castle if she wanted the prince dead. She was trying to be discreet.”

Yet again, this took Lance by surprise. He hadn’t known that they had come to any kind of conclusion about the attack, let alone assigned blame. But knowing it was Hagar made him sick to his stomach with nerves. Knowing that the recent attacks were her being discrete and not at her full force?? That Kethek has almost died to protect him from a threat that, in comparison to the extent of her abilities, took almost no effort?

It was terrifying.

“What we do from here is continue to protect the prince.” Allura concluded. “Though having more information about the origin of these attacks is reassuring and helpful to us in the long run, Hagar is not someone easily confronted and defeated. She is perhaps more difficult to take down than even Zarkon himself, so doing so won’t come without much more planning.

“The red lion has returned to us in this time of need and I can’t help to think it a sign. To save the prince, we must win the war by taking out both Hagar and Zarkon, and our only chance of doing so is with the lions. Of course, none of the lions have ever all had paladins, let alone at the same time, but I feel that we should begin our search for them, as well as for a paladin for the red lion. With all 5 back on our side, we may actually have a chance.”

“I’ve come to this decision after receiving my brother's counsel.” She said, unexpectedly turning to Lance, a kindness in her eyes that Lance rarely got to see anymore.

“As he said to me, Our father, king Alfor, never meant for the lions to disappear forever. He left us both with the ability to sense the lions, and as a paladin, the prince knows that nothing can stop the union of a lion and its paladin. It’s fate already written that we have no power to change. But we do have the power to encourage this union, and I say we must do that by bringing the remaining lions home.

“This means Xanten,” she turned to the Galra who had been listening intently across the table, “that a new part of the prince’s training schedule must include paladin training. Time spent with his lion as well as the red lion. Strengthening the bonds with each of them so that we may hope to have his assistance in finding paladins in the future.”

“When Kethek recovers, you must inform him of these additions, and I will schedule a formal briefing for the both of you where we can inform him of whatever new plans will arise while he is under, as well as the ones for this meeting.

Lance internally frowned, wishing that Kethek was still here. For… many reasons, of course, but most especially because time permitted in the lion hangars with Kethek, a room which he had previously not been allowed to be in for extended periods of time, would allow him the chance to bond with red while he worked with blue. It could have been perfect.

But instead he had Xanten, who he’d only just met and was not completely comfortable doing paladin training with, as it requires a lot of mental openness, and Lance had quite a few things in his head that he much preferred to keep to himself at the moment.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever tell Allura’s about Kethek being the red paladin, or if he would wait until the moment was dire enough that she wouldn’t be able to refuse, but being the only person in the room who knew that the red lion already had a paladin and choosing not to say anything in a moment where they needed the information most felt wrong. He knew that there could be potentially disaster out repercussions, but it did nothing to comfort him. Withholding this information felt awful.

But he bit his tongue, clenching his fists in his lap under the table and reminding himself that it was for his own safety. For Kethek’s safety. That it had to be at the right time, and not a moment sooner.

The rest of the meeting progressed much like all the ones before it, discussing the rules and expectations, gathering a brief analysis of his strongest skills and how they would be best put to use to protect him.

But unlike the last time, Lance was paying attention. Taking mental notes. Coming up with his own plans. Because before, when it was just his safety that was a concern, it didn’t mean as much. Now it involved Kethek’s too, and it that… for him, he’d care a little bit more.

The meeting adjourned after another varga of discussion, and just like that, Kethek was replaced. Allura stood and dismissed the room, instructing Xanten to wait for them outside the door in that same, subtly hateful way that she used on Kethek.

He complied and suddenly he and his sister were alone together, the serious look she had worn on her face now one of big, tearful eyes and worry.

She turned to him in a rush and lifted up in her toes to throw her arms around him.

Lance could feel her shaking, feel the fear and concern radiate through her body and onto him.

He hugged her back, slowly as the action had caught him off guard and ran a hand up and down her back in an attempt to be soothing.

“Oh, Lance I’ve never been so terrified in all my life.” She whimpered into his shoulder, her voice shaking. “I heard someone was stabbed and… and I thought it was you… I… I heard “he’s down!” And I didn’t know… I thought it had been you.”

Lance swallowed, feeling unsure of how to respond, not ok enough himself to feel able to comfort her and not wanting to offer any “luckily I wasn’t.” Because this wasn’t luck. It had nearly cost Kethek’s life, and he didn’t feel like that was comforting at all.

Allura’s pulled back and for the first time in a long time, Lance realized just how much she looked like their mother. It softened him up a little bit, soothing him, if only slightly, to know that Allura was ok and that his mother's life lived on though her. Through the both of them.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her hands squeezing his as she looked him over, checking for any damage.

“No.” Lance replied honestly, shaking his head and trying to keep his own tears at bay. “I’m not.”

Allura looked to him concerned, eyes going wide.

“Are you hurt?” She asked frantically. “What happened lance, if you’re hurt we need to get you looked over by one of our doctors!”

“No, Allura I’m not ok because this is exactly what I never wanted to happen! Kethek’s life hangs in the balance and that guilt is eating me alive. I never wanted this. I’d rather have died than had this!”

The words tumble from his mouth and he knows As soon as he’s said them that Allura will find them appalling.

Her eyes widen in horror and her grip on his hands loosens.

“Kethek fulfilled his duty!” She fired back. It was his obligation to give his life for yours!”

Lance was crying now too, hating the words that his sister was speaking.

“So does that mean you won’t treat him like shit anymore, Allura? Because you said the only way you’d ever trust him is if he died to protect me? Or are you still to blind to see how quiznacking messed up this is and how horribly he was treated.”

His words were harsh, but he was feeling too much, too loudly to feel bad about it. They were words, in some twisted way, that he’d always hoped he’d be able to say. He never wanted this for Kethek, but he’d wanted to throw it in Allura’s face if he ever did fall because of him.”

“Oh, he did his JOB Lance. He didn’t win the war or liberate the Altean Kingdom. He did what he was ordered to do. He did the bare minimum.”

“The bare- Allura if it weren't for him I’d be dead!! He saved my life! How can you possibly be so cruel! Just because he’s Galra?!”

“The Galra almost MURDERED you Lance!!! They almost managed to take my ENTIRE family from me, and you want me to be sympathetic?!”

“Yes!!” Because I’m still alive only because of Kethek! And it’s far time you stop seeing him as the enemy and treat him with a single ounce of dignity!”

Lance threw her hands away from his, ignoring the pang of sadness that rippled through him as he did so and took off, out of the room and away from her as quickly as he could.

He barked out to Xanten that he was going to his room and stormed down the hall until he could lock himself inside of it.

He broke down in anger as soon as the door was closed and screamed. Fists clenched and irritation burning like a fire inside of him.

His mother had asked him to see her sister's fear as love, but he could not accept this. He could not justify this. He wanted so desperately to be able to love her. To find comfort in her, the only family he had left, but this was too much.

It had taken him the whole night to calm down, tossing and turning in his bed before he was able to sleep. But the next morning wasn’t any better.

Xanten was an adjustment. A big one. Coming back out of his room to see him there and not Kethek was an awful feeling.

Lance felt loomed over even more so now, as this Blade was nearly a head taller than him and much more bulky than Kethek. He was silent and calm and his demeanor wasn’t all that unlike Kethek’s- perhaps it was their similar training, but Lance still felt afraid. Looking over his shoulder at every corner he turned, having to remind himself to breathe, keeping his hand on the holster of his gun. Things he never realized he didn’t do with Kethek. Because somehow, even before he had come to know him, he trusted that nothing could touch him so long as he was at his side.

So the difference, though unexpected, was palpable.

They did the same kinds of things, attended diplomacy meetings, trained, now visiting blue almost twice a day.

Every morning he was there to escort him to his duties and every night he was there to take him back to his room.

It wasn’t until he had spent a week or so without him that he realized how… different Kethek had really been. Xanten felt colder. More blunt. He was all and glowering and he trained almost violently with Lance, seeming not to care if the prince got hurt in the slightest, and instead telling him what he did wrong, always saying that the Galra would not go easy on him so he wouldn’t either. He never talked to Lance outside of the training deck and never let Lance out of his sight.

And again, it wasn’t even that Kethek didn’t do that too. In fact he did, constantly, so almost the exact same things, but the way in which he did it was different. Lance knew it made no sense. He was aware of their obvious similarities, but Xanten was a different person. Xanten had a different heart. A different story, and somehow it made Lance see them as polar opposites.

Kethek was fierce and intimidating and could be icy cold. He was irritating and overprotective, and strict, but beneath it all, he had a kind soul. Lance could tell. He could feel it, even though Kethek never actively put these softer traits on display. He had an underlying gentleness that rested right beneath the surface of his armour and it had never been more clear to him until it was replaced with the cold, harshness of his replacement.

When Kethek trained with him, he was gentle. Well at least in some sense. Kethek would throw him to the ground and stab a knife into the ground an inch away from his head without blinking an eye, but at the end of it all, he’d help Lance up, ask him how he was feeling. If he was ok. Tell him to drink water and rest when he knew he needed it. He walked beside him to his room, and bid him goodnight every night. He was caring. In spite of everything on his surface that stuck out like shards of glass, Kethek had a warm heart. Perhaps his shards were sharper for that very reason, but his caring nature still bled through, washing over him unexpectedly like a warm breeze in the middle of winter.

And yeah, maybe Kethek rejected him. Maybe he’d made it clear that he thought anything beyond a friendly relationship was off limits. Maybe it had crushed his heart and maybe he was reluctant to be close to him, what with all the humiliation and heartbreak he’d suffered at his hands, but stars… he missed him.

He never thought he would miss him, but he did, and there was no way of hiding that from himself. He didn’t want to.

For the first few days he’d managed to keep his composure more, but every day, the pain only got worse. The itch in his soul to see him and be there for him grew stronger. He needed to know that he was ok. Needed to see it for himself, or he welt like he might go insane. So finally, on the way back to his room one night, he’d gathered up the courage and asked Xanten to take him to the medical bay.

Xanten complied, though Lance could sense his confusion, and when they arrived at the pod bay, he turned around to face him.

With the most serious look he could manage, he straightened his back and leveled him with his gaze.

“I wish to speak to the nurses, and for the patient's privacy, I request that you wait here, this door is the only entrance, so you need not worry about my being in danger while inside.”

Xanten gave a single nod, not questioning him, and stood his post, allowing Lance to walk through. He didn’t care if he knew he was lying. That he was in fact hoping he would not see a nurse, and be left alone with Kethek. At this point, if someone questioned it, he could blame it on his guilt for having people risk their lives for his, so he didn’t care if anyone knew he had come here. Kethek deserves someone who looked out for him. Lance was ok to be that person. Especially when he didn’t trust that anybody else would truly have only his best interest at heart.

So Lance pushed forward, walking cautiously over to the circle of occupied pods, several of which held the other guards who had been injured in the last fight.

When he saw Kethek though, he’d nearly jumped, his heart pounding and his nerves lighting up with fire. The sight of him made him faint, because he’d almost not recognized him at all.

The fact that he was dressed in a skin tight white pod suit was enough of a noticeable difference on its own, as Lance had never seen Kethek dressed in anything other than dark armor, but his face, and the mass of bandages around his waist nearly made his heart stop.

The breath in his lungs pinched out of him and he let out a shaky sob with it, hands coming up to cover his mouth. Because Kethek looked like a corpse.

His eyes, sunken and darkly bruised, and his skin such a pale shade of purple that Lance knew could only be the result of an extreme loss of blood.

He shook his head, tears flooding his eyes and stomach dropping. He had expected it to be bad, but he hadn’t expected this. Not at all.

He didn’t even look pained, as many tended to when in the pods. He just looked dead, his eyes gently closed and expression lifeless.
Feeling weak, lance lowered himself to his knees, hiccuping for aid as he cried and looked away from the sight of him, hardly able to stand it any longer.

Gently he placed a hand against the glass and cringed at the cool sting that shocked his skin.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered. “So sorry.”

His heart ached and his head throbbed and he swore to himself that he’d be here, at Kethek’s side, every single moment that he could. He told himself he’d stay all night if he had to. And he wouldn’t have moved. Would have gone through with his plan to try and stay at the foot of Kethek’s pod for forever had he not suddenly heard Allura’s voice waft out into the air from some deeper part of the room. After their fallout, the last person he wanted to see him here was his sister. Lance’s heart leapt and he stood to his feet, stalled for what to do before he eventually decided to hide in a nearby corner of the room that was obscured by the pods, heart pounding as Allura’s voice and footsteps grew louder.

It was her and a nurse, coming out from one of the medical rooms, to the right. She was speaking softly and Lance had to hold his breath to hear her, and he managed, if only just barely.

“And you're certain of that.” She was saying, Lance now able to see her from his it's hiding spot as she walked towards Kethek’s circle of pods with tbe nurse.

“Yes, my queen.” The nurse responded. “Once he’s out of the pod he’ll probably need a few more days of rest, but we predict few long term complications other than possibly a scar.”

Allura nodded, the two of them approaching the pod. To Lance’s surprise her face actually fell some, eyes going wide and jaw slacking.

“He looks terrible.” She whispered, putting a hand over her heart.”

Lance wondered if she was faking her concern.

The paleness and bruising is from the blood loss. We should see improvements in a couple of quintants, once his body has had time to replenish.

Allura nodded, biting her lip and looking away and back to the nurse.

“He is to receive only the best of care.” This is my order.“ Allura says, and Lance’s scowled in confusion.

“I ask that you make his recovery a priority. His sacrifice was noble, and we are in his debt. The prince needs him, as do we all. He is the best chance for my brother's safety, and I want him to receive nothing but the best of care.

The nurse bowed and assured her that the medical staff would do all that they could to ensure his well being and it was only then that Allura dismissed her, the nurse leaving her to be alone in front of the pod.

When she was gone Allura looked back up to Kethek, face twisted with confliction and brows pinched together.

Lance watched in shock as she produced a juniberry from a satchel she carried on her shoulder and placed it at the foot of the pod.

“You are in my debt.” Lance heard her whisper softly. “Thank you for protecting him… now I will try… I will try and do the same for you. ”

And then, she was walking away. Out the door and out of sight, leaving Lance to stare at the now empty place where she had stood. At the flower she had gifted Kethek as her words set in.

Allura was trying. Allura had listened to him. Allura, strong, loyal Allura has made an effort for him, and it was everything he’d needed to hear. His entire body flushed with love. With relief.

This was a step towards acceptance. A step towards peace, and in all the chaos and pain of the past two quintants, it was like a gift from the gods.

Lance wiped the tears from his eyes, heart aching and he found himself believing, for maybe the first time that things might be ok.

Chapter Text

Kethek rarely remembered his dreams anymore. Sleep was a responsibility just as much as everything else in his waking life was. He was always on the job. Always ready to wake. To rise and fight at a moment's notice. It was how he had been trained.

But these dreams were ones he knew he wouldn’t wake to forget.

After a confusing collage of unconscious events… of pain, of consuming darkness and cold… he’d somehow ended up here.

Across from him.

His name was Vex. Or at least, that’s what everyone called him. Kethek had never been sure if it was his real name. He had gotten the idea, several times, that it wasn’t.

He was tall, a halfbreed, with dark blue eyes that swam amidst his golden scleras. It was one of the most distinctly Galran features about him other than the purple tint to his skin, both traits he’d told him that he had inherited from his full Galran father.

Vex was the only Galran that Kethek had ever trusted… during a time in his life where he’d been naive enough to seek out trust rather than banish it into oblivion. A time where he didn’t fear connection as much as he should have.

Developing a connection with someone, as he now knew, was too dangerous of a luxury to try and afford.

But Vex was one of few people he encountered during his time as a Galran soldier that he, if under different circumstances, might have called a friend.

He’d had a similar temperament to his own. He had a rye sense about him and an irritation with their missions and assignments that Kethek found relatable and amusing.

It was for these reasons that Kethek stuck by him. Ate meals with him, chose to bunk with him if they were ever on a mission and had little space to spare. They stuck by each other. Looked out for each other. Even to this day, Kethek knew that Vex had trusted him too. Had considered Kethek in the same way that Kethek considered him. It was only with Vex, out of all the years as a soldier and a spy, where he had ever laughed. Smiled and felt some semblance of comfort.

In hindsight, ever letting himself get so comfortable was foolish and the memory of it hurts more than he’d like to admit. Simply because he’d been foolish enough to let it happen, despite knowing that it wasn’t smart. That it would only hurt them both in the end.

His dreams didn’t focus on any of the good moments though. His dreams focused only on one moment. One image of Vex. The last memory he had of him. It played through his mind on repeat, growing more painful each time.

It was his face, horrified and scared and confused. The face he wore in his last seconds of life- right before Kethek set a bomb to blow him up. Him and the information that would have stopped the rebellion in their tracks.

A face that wasn’t all that unlike Lance’s face, in Kethek’s final moments after he’d been stabbed, just before everything went dark. The fear… the confusion. The hurt. He could see it burned across Lance’s face. He’d wanted to comfort him then. If he’d been able, he would have. He would have told him it was ok. That he would be ok. Even if it was a lie.

It stung. Because vex had done the same thing for him. His words before the fateful moment of his death had been comforting and encouraging and trusting. Because he’d cared about him. Wanted to comfort him. Even though the circumstances were grim.

“We’ll make it Kethek.” He’d told him. “I know you’re afraid. You never show it but I know you and I know you’re afraid. Because hell I’m afraid too. But I know so long as we have each other, we’ll be fine. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

The words were burned into his chest, scars on his back and knives in his heart. Those words, Along with his reply of agreement and assurance that he too would stay by his side. They were words that cut him to his core every time that they came to the forefront of his mind. Words that took all his power to remain composed while he remembered them.

They felt worse than any blade to the gut ever would.

The moments that followed that day were the worst that he had ever experienced in his life. The ability he had to live with himself was non-existent. His belief in his cause and the belief that he was on the right side of this war all came into question. How could he be doing the right thing if he’d had to murder someone he knew to be a good soul. His friend.

He was a mess. Lost and hateful of himself and of the situation that had put him in a position where he didn’t hesitate to kill the only friend he’d ever made on his own. The only person he'd been able to trust since Shiro’s death.

When he came out the other end, he didn’t allow himself to be the same person that had let that happen. He grew hard and emotionless. Forbid himself from comfort. He knew that he was fighting for the right things, and nothing. Not anything could come in the way of that. He would never let someone in again, he would never betray someone that he cared for again. So he wouldn’t care for anyone at all. Ever. The mission would always come first.

But somehow still, he’d ended up here. Stabbed through the stomach and clinging to life in the effort to protect someone he no longer could assuredly say he cared about only because of the mission and his importance in the war.

It was more than that now. He knew that all too well, and he hated himself for it.

He hadn’t jumped in front of that sword for his highness, the sovereign prince of Altea. He didn’t take the blow for the Blue paladin.

He did it for Lance. The boy with crystal blue eyes and deadly sharp precision. The drunken fool who giggled so beautifully and annoyed him in the best ways. The boy who was best friends with a chef and who loved his sister and his people and was terrified of losing his life, not because of his own self interest but because of what it would do for his kingdom and his family.

Lance. Who touched him so gently that night and looked at him with more fondness than Kethek could stomach. He’d done it for him. And there was no way he could even attempt to deny that anymore.

If the choice ever had to be made between Lance and the mission, he knew which one he would choose. Unblinkingly. He had just been lucky that as of recently, he was his mission, and no choice ever prevented him from doing his job.

He was good at his job. Always had been. He’d never in his life chosen something over his mission. He’d murdered his friend for the rebellion. Sent a ships with hundreds of people to their deaths for the mission. He’d fought tooth and nail for this war. He was a renowned fighter, a despicable assassin, a horrible friend, and a lost soul. The bindings of his devotion to the freedom of the universe from the Galra, his sense of duty, and his unbreakable resolve was all that was holding him together.

He knew that. And he knew that one gentle tug, one bit of freedom would unravel him completely.

Lance would unravel him completely.

——

The Royal Altean medical staff stood on high alert, holding whatever equipment they deemed they might need at the ready as they stood in anticipation, waiting to assist their patient if he was unstable.

Lance stood among them, arms crossed tightly in front of his stomach, eyes wide and worried as he watched the timer slowly tick down.

He had stood here. Slept here, waited here for weeks. Watched, in an agonizing slowness, as the color returned to Kethek’s face. The sunken, corpse-like cut of his face under his eyes and cheekbones filled out again to look normal. He had watched his face twist and contort with pain as he slept. Witnessed the most vulnerability and expressiveness he had ever seen from Kethek ever. Lance had been immovable. Practically glued to the foot of Kethek’s pod.

The nurses, who eventually caught on to his nightly visits, let him be. Did not question him. Just simply nodded to him if they passed or avoided passing him completely unless they had to check on Kethek. They calmly and respectfully answered all of Lance’s eager questions regarding the state of his well-being and how accurate the timer usually was. If it was possible that he could wake up sooner, or worse, later than what was said on the clock.

Not even Xanten said anything about his frequent requests to visit the med bay before bed and the occasional times that Lance would fall asleep waiting there instead of coming back out to return to his quarters.

The only person who’d had anything to say about it had of course been Allura, who most certainly had caught wind of Lance’s new nightly routine by way of castle gossip.

Unbeknownst to Lance, she had come to the med bay one night while he was there and nearly scared him to death when she approached and spoke up disapprovingly.

“You shouldn’t be spending your nights here.” She’s told him. “It’s not as secure as your quarters. And you’re putting not only yourself at risk, but the medical staff and the patients at risk as well.”

Allura was, characteristically, unafraid to speak her mind and tell Lance he was being stupid. And Lance, characteristically, did not care and was unafraid to fight back.

He’d been kinder to her as of late though. Or at least he was trying to be. His anger towards her had lessened after he had seen what she’d done on Kethek’s first night in the pod. And Allura. In her own way, had been kinder too.

“I know you must feel an incredible guilt.” She had said after several long minutes of arguing. “I knew that if he ever had to take such dramatic action for you that you would feel a painful guilt. I just didn’t anticipate how much. If I could take this from you, I would. I need you to know that. Even though it feels we’ve done nothing but disagree for a long time, I only want the best for you. And if you feel that what is best for you is his well-being… I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever I can to ensure his safety as well as your own.”

Lance nodded. Eyes wet and lips wobbly. It had been the first time she had expressed any willingness to tolerate Kethek directly to Lance. And it has been the first time in what felt like forever that he’d hugged her and thanked her and genuinely felt nothing but love for her. She still had her prejudices to work through, but she was willing to try and understand Lance and that was a massive milestone for everyone involved.

And now they were here. After quintants upon quintants of anxiously waiting, Kethek’s pod was on its last few ticks.

Allura looked to him from where she stood with Coran and nodded. As if to assure him that everything would be ok. Knowing that he was anxious. Even if he didn’t know all the reasons why.

It helped.

And then, the timer beeped to signal the conclusion of the cycle and finally, the pod clicked open and a puff of icy fog rose into the air with a hiss.

Kethek, no longer obscured by the frosty glass of the pod, was on full display now. Standing upright and slowly coming back to wakefulness.

His mouth twitched, then his eyes, nose, shoulders. His lids scrunched, and then he blinked. Once, twice, three times, squinting at the light.

Gravity and consciousness seemed to all at once take its tole on him then, shoulders slumping in an action that looked incredibly unsteady, and a scowl consuming his resting features. He stumbled forwards just a bit and his arm shot out in front of him to brace him against the side of the pod.

Immediately a medical aid rushed forwards, offering him an arm which he took a moment to realize was there, blinking and looking up at the doctor in a haze.

Seeing the Altean’s face seemed to make something click in his brain then, his back going slightly more rigid and his eyes sharpening.

He stared at the doctor a moment more and then looked around the room, seemingly just having realized where he was. And then, with a sudden jolt, his eyes went ever so slightly wider and his head snapped down to look at himself.

It was a subtle gesture, of sorts, but it was over as soon as it happened. His shoulders relaxed only slightly, and then he was looking back around the room.

His eyes roamed and then he was stepping forwards. But, still unsteady, he stumbled again, grabbing on to the nurse's arm to right himself in a gesture that although was out of necessity, still looked reluctant.

His eyes, which had fallen back down to his feet momentarily for his stumble, flicked up again directly onto Lance’s. It happened seemingly without intention, but when his gaze settled, something like… relief bled through the gold of his eyes and into the space between them. It was subtle, but Lance could see it. Plain as day.

He still had some light bruising under his eyes and his hair was a mess and seeing him not in complete control of himself was strange and unsettling in the sense that he knows it’s because he’s still recovering from being stabbed, but in the moment that their eyes meet, the world fell still for just a fraction of a second and Lance, wide eyed and worried, tried to convey months worth of unsaid things in that one glance.

Somehow still, in spite of the situation and how horribly ill timed a thought it was to have at this particular moment, Lance still had half a mind to look him over, captured by the way he looked. Beautiful. Dark hair, flushed skin, tinted slightly more pink from the cooling effects of the pod.

Lance wants to scream it at him. Blurt out at him everything he feels and has felt ever since he arrived. He wants to run up and hug him. Talk to him. Hold him and make sure for himself that he was really ok. He wants to plant his lips on his cheek and feel the warmth of his skin and the pulse of his body in the same way he had that night at the ball. Even in front of all these people. But he can’t. Not for a lot of reasons. Not with the fear that Kethek would somehow be punished if they knew what had happened. What Lance thought of him. How he truly felt about him

Their gazes held for what Lance had tried to make a long time, but not a tic more and the spell was broken by none other than Allura, who approached with genuine concern on her face.

“Kethek, I am so relieved to see you well again. Are you in pain? Anywhere at all?”

Her words were kind… worried even. Concerned. Not laced with any spite whatsoever, and it was apparently as clear to Lance as it was to Kethek, who turned to look at her with a small furrow in his brow.

“No… your majesty.” He said, trying to straighten up while he spoke to her. “I’m thankful to be feeling quite a lot better. Just… a little hazy.”

“Ah, yes, that is quite normal after a session in the ol’ healing pod.” Coran confirmed. “It’ll wear off in a varga or so.”

“Yes, but I must advise that you stay in the med bay overnight.” One of the doctors recommended. “I’d prefer it if we were able to monitor your first night to ensure that you‘be completely recovered.

Kethek nods, “Y-yes, of course.”

He looks a little bit taken aback, understandably so. Before everything went down Kethek would have been lucky to get a passing nod in the hallway. He, more often than not, was avoided like the plague, not held up and supported and cared for like he was now.

Lance can see the shock of it, but just like anything else that Kethek emotes, it’s subtle, a slight twitch of the brow. A quirk of the lips.

Allura is being kind. Incredibly so. The doctors and every other Altean in the room is not only looking at him, but looking at him with respect.

Because Kethek actually saved his life. Actually sacrificed himself for him. He did that. He’d fulfilled that promise. Did it unblinkingly. Without a second's hesitation. And though that thought alone fills him with every confusing emotion he's known himself to feel all at once- worried, flustered, proud, embarrassed… he knows at the very least, this made everyone realize what he’d already come to know. That if Kethek wanted him dead, he would be dead.

He’d proven himself. It took a sword through the stomach to do it, and though Lance wished to hell that they would have come to recognize and appreciate his allegiance and honesty some other way, he was thankful that at the very least, that this could change how he was treated. This could allow Kethek that comfort he’d been lacking. This could mean acceptance. At least in the inner circle of those who had witnessed the attack. Other Altean’s, he knew, wouldn’t be so quick to approve of him.

But this was a start.

Kethek flexed his legs, tweaking his joints before attempting to move forwards again, the Altean nurse following him closely.

“Do you need a wheelchair to get you to the medical suite?” The nurse asked. But Kethek shook his head and brushed her off.

“I’m fine.” He told her.

And then that was that. Kethek didn’t look his way again. Didn’t even acknowledge him as he hobbled past him in the direction that the nurse was leading him.

It made Lance feel terrible. Like he wanted to scream. Like he was going to cry.

All he wanted was to run after him. Having him out of his sight, he knew, would be agonizing. The inability to check on him and ensure that he was truly recovering would be agonizing. He didn’t want him to leave thinking that he had just stood there, watched him exit the pod, and then let him go without a care in the world. He wanted to be overbearing and clingy and involved in every aspect of his care.

But he couldn’t be.

So he schooled his expression just enough so that it didn’t look like he was affected and cleared his throat, turning towards one of the medical staff.

“Please inform me of when he will be fit to take visitors. I’d like to offer my thanks to him personally.”

The nurse quirked the slightest of a brow and Lance scowled.

“Kethek is under Altean custody at this moment in time, which makes him one of my subjects. Therefore it is my responsibility, as his prince, to offer my support. That is simply all I wish to do.”

The nurse nodded then, putting on a small smile. “I’ll send for you as soon as the doctor permits, your grace.” She replied, throwing in a little courtesy to punctuate her sentence before she scurried after Kethek and the rest of the medical staff.

This left him alone with Coran, Allura and Xanten, who all stood silently staring at him.

“You plan on seeing him alone?” Allura questioned, giving him a look that Lance couldn’t quite read.

“So long as Xanten keeps his post outside of the room while I’m in it, it should be no less dangerous than walking through the halls. As I said, I owe him my thanks. I simply wish to make sure he knows it’s appreciated.”

The words felt hollow as he spoke them. Shallow and poorly descriptive of his actual feelings. Lance felt the need to bow at his feet or hug him or gift him anything he could desire. His need to repay him felt enormous the ache to be near him? Even more so.

But he, the prince of Altea, the brother of the queen, and the leader of the rebellion against the Galra didn’t feel that strongly about a Galran guard. He was calm and invested in Kethek only the normal amount, nothing more.

With Allura’s growing compliance and it having not been very discreet how miserable he had been feeling the entire time that Kethek had been under, he was going to take this opportunity to see him while he could get away with not turning too many heads.

But the amount of time it took for him to get the ok from the nurses may have well been years in Lance’s mind. Long, slow, years.

Things continued as normal and nothing made Lance angrier than that. Having to go about his day and attend to his duties as normal when absolutely nothing in his life felt normal was it’s own kind of torture. But if there was one thing he was good at, it was that.

Making his thoughts and emotions behind a mask of composure and Dignity. Putting on a show.

He could do it easily. He’d done it his whole life. For as long as he could remember. His mother had been the only person who had ever been able to see through it.

Unlike the pompous dignitary he sat across from now, who, like many of his other guests that day, were oblivious to any problems that didn’t involve them.

It was something he confronted often in his work. He’d many a time had to negotiate on his missions abroad for people to look outside of their borders and atmospheres for the sake of the greater good. And it was never an easy task. So, like the chameleon that the altean people were so often compared to, he became skilled at putting in a mask. Using his prowess in empathy and diplomacy to appeal to those who needed to be convinced to join the fight.

Becoming who they needed or wanted him to be. It was his greatest skill. One he seemed to completely fail at when Kethek was involved.

Kethek had an uncanny ability to break him down and expose his center. Throw his composure out of wack and leave him defenseless.

So, needless to say, every moment of every meeting that he had to endure between seeing Kethek and being able to visit him in the med bay was a battle for him. Distracted by thoughts of him and endlessly worried, even those as oblivious as the pompous dignitaries who he often dealt with in meetings took notice. Asked if he was alright. Commented about his slightly more disheveled appearance and fawned their concern for his well being at a time of such crisis to his life.

Lance simply had to apologize and assure them that he was well. It was all he could do to maintain his composure.

He managed through nearly two full days of it though. And finally, after mountains of meetings, diplomatic agreements, war discussions that he was hardly able to pay attention to when he was so consumed with worry, the med bay finally sent word that Kethek was able to have visitors.

In the same instant that he was told, he canceled all his other plans and rushed there, not even going back to his room to freshen up before seeing him. It didn’t even cross his mind. The only thing he could think to do was get to Kethek. As quickly as possible.

Through the halls he kept on his mask. Kept calm and serious. Inside he was screaming. But that was only for him to know.

Nobody had to know the ache in his chest that drew him into Kethek. Begged him to be near him. The itch in his very soul that demanded he go to him. Speak to him.

Nobody had to know of that night above the ballroom, when they were wrapped in each other's arms, swaying to a rhythm all their own. So close that they could have - that he would have… that he’d wanted to… had nearly confessed.

Nobody had to know what he would have confessed that night. Nobody but himself and Kethek. Lance was decided.

He’d been rejected. But he didn’t care. He needed to know he was ok. Be close to him. Run his hands over his wound so that he would be certain that it was no longer a concern. That he’d be fine.

So he planned to do just that, charging forwards with purpose, Xanten rushing after him, keeping pace.

“I’m going in now.” He told him as they approached, letting his voice float over his shoulder to him without effort to turn his head. “Please stand guard outside Kethek’s room while I speak to him.”

“Yes, my prince.” Xanten said without questioning him, and for that, Lance was thankful. Kethek would have questioned him. Would have made him second guess every choice he ever made. Would have insisted he go in the room with him to keep him safe. Xanten was simply… complaint.

But right now that was a good thing. He had a feeling he would need to be alone for this. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain any kind of composure at all.

His nerves were a live wire, a burning frenzy of flames that made him sick to his stomach, but he pushed forwards after several moments of deep breaths outside his door.

Swallowing hard, he stepped forwards, raising a fist to knock at the door and waited for Kethek’s response.

When it came, it washed over Lance like a melody, comforting and familiar and warm. Kethek’s voice… he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

He pressed the panel to open the doors, which, to his agony, felt like they were sliding apart in slow motion. Too slow for Lance’s comfort, the agony of the anticipation of seeing him again making it feel like a lifetime from the moment he lifts his eyes from the hand scanner to the figure sitting in the room.

Lance sees his eyes first. Golden and wide, before the full sight of him comes into view.

The image nearly knocks him out.

Unexpectedly, he’s in nothing but a pair of baggy pants that the medical bay keeps on supply for patients. The rest of him is bare, with the exception of where he is bandaged up, the white patch of cloth taped to the left side of his lower stomach.

And my god did it make Lance’s head positively spin.

Lance had never once seen Kethek in anything but his armor, and even though the sight of what had been underneath it all this time was not unexpected at all, Lance still feels light headed.

Apparently it’s not just Kethek’s mind that has been molded and hardened from war. It’s not just his personality that is tough and disciplined. Kethek’s body is all sharp edges and hard lines of muscle. His slim build does nothing to dampen the obvious amount of rigidity and discipline that he maintains in his life. They aren’t showy muscles, it’s muscle gained from hard training and labor.

Kethek has the body of a soldier. Or someone who only knows war, and it makes Lance feel dizzy. Not only from seeing his physique, but simply from witnessing just how… casual he looked without his armour. How much more real he appeared. Vulnerable and fleshy and Galran. Not a brick wall. Not an iron statue, but a person.

In his haze, Lance didn’t even notice that Kethek had stood up. It takes him a second longer to come back enough from the bursting thoughts in his brain to realize that Kethek said his name. Not “highness” or “your majesty…”

“Lance.”

Lance blinks, feeling the heat in his cheeks grow in tandem with his lessening composure. It’s a sudden bombardment of embarrassment and shock and intimacy and relief and pain that makes Lance regrettably feel like crying.

“Kethek…” is all he can manage to say back.

Kethek is as unreadable as ever, face twisted in an indecipherable way.

And then he’s bowing. It’s a quick thing. A dip of his shoulders in Lance’s direction.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I- if I had known you were coming I-“

“You’re sorry?!” Lance almost balks, scoffing with incredulity. Kethek, you- … you died!!”

And just like that, his composure vanished. Tears leaked into his eyes and his body began to shake.

“You… stopped quiznacking breathing- you had a blade longer than my arm buried in your stomach! You quiznacking jumped in front of it… for me! And you’re apologizing to me?!”

“Your highness-“

“I know it’s your job Kethek! I get it! I know you have a duty to protect me at all costs. I know you made a vow to Allura! I know! But do you have any idea how terrified I was?? Kethek there was so much blood- your blood! Everywhere! I was covered in it! You died and… and you fell and… and I swear it felt like I was dying too…!”

Lance was gasping, chest aching and sore as he shook with vigor. His tears unrelenting and thick, as the damn let loose inside of him, spilling the torrent of words that he’d been aching to say.

Kethek was quiet. He was quiet for a long time. So quiet that Lance would have been irritated had he not seen the twinges of pain in Kethek’s eyes.

He looked at the ground, then at Lance, and then back at the ground again, his mouth open with unspoken words.

He huffs a little, and then he’s running a hand through his hair. He looks visibly stressed, which is a lot for him.

“I never meant to hurt you.” He says softly, still not meeting his eyes. “That’s the last thing I’d ever want.”

“Why did you run then?!” Lance asked. Tears in his eyes.

Kethek’s brows furrowed and finally, he looks back at him.

“Run?”

“At the ball! If you never wanted to hurt me then why did you run?! Because you know what Kethek? That hurt. That hurt so much and then you almost die and it just- it crippled me Kethek! You have no idea how hurt- how lost… I felt so lost!! It was your duty to stay and fight the assassins. But you could have stayed… you could have stayed with me that night at the ball.”

“So why did you leave?!”

Kethek just blinks. His scowl looks pained and his bottom lip is pulled tight from where it is caught between his teeth. All that, complete with clenched fists and a deathly stillness to his figure and Lance knows… can tell for sure this time that Kethek is physically holding himself back. He’s strung like a bow and Lance hates it. The true reason for why he came here to Kethek… why he was so anxious to speak to him again was this…. and now it was clear to the both of them.

Lance looks at his feet, pulling his fists into his chest to steady himself and breathe. He hadn’t meant for this to be where their conversation went. He genuinely just wanted to see him and make sure he was ok, but now that the subject had been broached, he was laying himself bare again. Giving himself to Kethek again to do with him whatever he would. Reject him… pity him… tell him how he’d interpreted their interaction at the ball was not what he’d intended it to be.

“Kethek… I was so… I was so worried… you… you have no idea. You gave your life for mine…. and… and all I really wanted to say was that I never want you apologizing to me again. Not after what you did.”

Kethek frowned even more somehow, his body going stiff.

“If you deserve an apology, then I will give you one. Regardless of the debt you may feel. You need to know that you don’t owe me a single thing, and if I do something stupid… I still want you to call me out for it. Just like you always have.”

Lance's chest feels somehow heavier and lighter at the same time. Like an old weight is gone and a new weight has replaced it.

He is feeling too many things at once to respond without falling apart, so he’s relieved when Kethek keeps talking for the both of them.

“I made a mistake. I hurt you. I shouldn’t have let that happen. If it does, I want you to tell me.”

“So that’s all it is, then.” Lance asks. “A mistake?”

The question is met with silence. Kethek looking at him, stoic, silent…. unreadable.

Lance can’t stand it.

“Well it wasn’t a mistake for me.” He blurts before he can think better of it.

“If I could have stayed there…. that whole night…. I would… I would have. I feel safer… with you, and I don’t-“

Lance cuts himself off and swallows, taking a deep breath.

“My point… is that things are… complicated now. At this point I’m not sure it’s possible for you to be unaware of my feelings. Unaware of just how deeply I've come to care for you.”

“Whether or not you reciprocate my feelings is unimportant, because the simple fact is that I have feelings. And I even though there’s a sense of safety I feel with you, I can’t …. I can’t stand watching you get hurt because of me. Kethek…. I’d rather die than see you in that pod again.”

Lance takes another deep breath. Closing his eyes and willing himself to stop shaking under Kethek’s cold, calculating gaze.

And then he says it. In spite of the overwhelming sickness he feels upon speaking. In spite of the instant regret, he becomes prince Lance of Altea once more. Says what a prince should say. Not what he wants to say.

“So maybe that means it’s best for you to go.” Lance instantly sees confusion and surprise cross over Kethek’s features and it takes everything for Lance not to change his mind and fall to his knees in profession of his…. Affections…

“I’ve become distracted.” He says instead. As the prince of Altea, it is my responsibility to be a leader in this war and that means I must stay alive and if I were ever inclined to put my life second in spite of all of that, it would be because of you. So that you would never be at risk of losing your own life because of me again. That pain is not worth keeping you by my side, though I would like to.”

“Of course you are the red paladin, and in this way our fates are entwined. So maybe when the time comes we will meet again for that reason, but for now…. right now… perhaps it is best that I separate myself from you. So that I may not have to live in constant turmoil of your potential harm and of my feelings that I know can never be and will never be reciprocated.”

Lance is looking at his feet, waiting for a response, but Kethek doesn’t say anything. Unbelievably and agonizingly, Kethek doesn’t even move. Doesn’t agree. Doesn’t protest. He just stays silent and it makes Lance want to scream.

But instead, he gathers the scraps of composure he’s still managed to hold onto and ends it there.

“I should go…” he concludes. After the silence stretched on just a bit too long.

He doesn’t dare look back at him. Doesn’t dare meet his eyes. He just turns and leaves. And Kethek let’s him. Let’s him walk away. Let’s him go.

Lance tried to delay it, even when he’s hurting so badly. He tries to wait it out. Wait for Kethek to stop him. He walks slowly into every step he takes, holding out hope that Kethek might call after him and tell him to stay, but he doesn’t.

And though he’s been able to say what he’d intended to, and see Kethek and have that conversation he’s been desperate to have, when the door closes, the hole in his chest feels bigger than ever.

He feels hollow and heavy all at once. He feels like he just made the biggest mistake of his life. He feels like he wants to cry.

Xanten says nothing. Just trails behind him on the way back to his room. Doesn’t comment on his crumbling composure like Kethek might have. But it’s something he’ll just have to get used to now. Xanten might soon be the one to have a permanent place at his side.

——

Kethek had not moved. For maybe an hour…. since Lance left. The overwhelming confusion and pain and anger was just… too much to do anything other than stand, dumbfounded.

Even when the nurses come to check on him, he’s silent, his head buzzing and his heart hammering and his mind whirling.

Because Lance has essentially just told him he had feelings for him. Said that Kethek was distracting him. Told Kethek he should leave because of it. That he’d rather he feel less safe with another guard then see him get hurt again. And having Lance simply acting affectionate was something far easier to ignore than him flat out admit his affections straight to Kethek’s face.

So how could Kethek do anything other than just… stand there…. speechless.

It took hours for his words to eventually settle into his brain enough for him to start to panic.

Lance wanted him to leave...Lance had asked him to go. And there were no words that Kethek could find to describe how much he didn’t want that.

To leave Altea. To leave Lance. To live each day unsure of whether or not he was ok. To not see him each morning and each night… he hadn’t even realized how much of his sanity had come to rely on those small things. On Lance. And it was terrifying, yes, but most importantly it was not an option. Kethek couldn’t leave. Didn’t want to leave. But staying would mean expressing that to Lance, and he wasn’t sure which he feared more.

When he finally did get out of his trance enough, it was to pack up his few belongings to leave the med bay. As soon as he was cleared by the nurses to return to his quarters, he did so eagerly. He didn’t like being poked and prodded, his privacy limited to whenever a nurse needed to check up on him.

Time and time again throughout his stay he’d insisted he was fine. He felt fine. He didn’t need to be inspected and pampered back to health. This was over the top and he hated it. But Lance had requested only the best for him. Lance had arranged this for him. So he complied.

That didn’t mean though that when it came time to leave he wasn’t basically sprinting out the doors. He was beyond ready to be rid of his little med bay room and the doctors who tried too hard to be pleasant to mask how uncomfortable they were with his presence. It was at least a step up from flat out admissions of hatred towards him though. Kethek was thankful for that much.

He wanted, desperately, to go back to being Lance’s guard. To prove to him, in any way he could, that they could make this work. That he didn’t have to leave.

He just… he wanted things to return to the way they were. As much as it was ironic and contradictory to say. It had been easier when things were shitty and difficult.

People pretending he didn’t exist had allowed for him to feel like he wasn’t under a spotlight, and he much preferred that to what it was now. He preferred to silently observe the prince and have no reciprocation rather than have Lance actively seeking out his affections and not being able to reciprocate. Above all else, that was the worst hell.

He’d truly messed everything up that night at the ball. The prince had looked stunning and he’d been so bright and charming…. He’d given in too much that night and now he had only two choices. Leave, or give in some more. Both could be disastrous in very, very different ways, but he knew which he wanted. He knew it without thinking. And it was terrifying.

All he could do now was attempt to push forwards. And that started with returning to his quarters and gathering up some more composure.

But he only made it about halfway to his quarters before he was stopped.

Slowly he turned to see Xanten walking up behind him. Having called his name and it being plenty loud enough to have heard, Kethek had no choice but to wait to hear him out, though his annoyance At the delay was bordering on explosive.

Xanten has always been… tolerable. As impressions go, Kethek found that he had always been able to display a smidgen of gentleness that was rarely seen in any of the other Blades. He was still ruthless as hell, Kethek had seen him do quite nauseating things with his blade, but when he was not face to face with the enemy, his demeanor could almost be calming at times. Icy cold, but not harsh or unkind.

It’s why he’d chosen him as his replacement. For the fact that he was a skilled fighter and for the fact Lance needed someone who he could feel safe with.

But the look in his face told him that he was feeling less… calm… than usual.

Kethek nodded at him, asking him wordlessly to speak his mind and Xanten frowned.

“Are you feeling well.” He asked in that monotone way if asking questions that made it sound nothing like a question at all.

“Much better, yes. You should be able to return to the Blade for a new assignment as Soon as tomorrow.“ Kethek knew that Lance had just asked him to leave. And he knew that this was probably the time to inform Xanten of that... but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Xanten nodded but didn’t move, still looking as though he had something to say.

“Kethek, What did the prince say to you when he came to see you.” He asked.

Kethek’s brow furrowed and caution seeped into his bones.

“... he came to wish me well and apologize for my injury. As well as thank me for my efforts.”

It wasn’t untrue. Lance had been apologetic. But Kethek wasn’t willing to share more. Kethek’s mostly non negative feelings for him were hinged on the fact that he was a Blade, which honestly still didn’t grant him much from Kethek in terms of trust.

“Why do you ask?” He says instead, placing a hand on his hip and waiting for Xanten’s response. Which came after what was several tics of Xanten looking constipated.

“The prince neglected his duties several times to visit the pod bay while you were under. Almost every night and every morning for the entirety of your healing session.”

Kethek stills. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough for Kethek to feel like he’d frozen. He had been unaware of this. He should have expected that that was what Lance would do, but he hadn’t known. Lance has only told him of his emotions, not of how they manifested.

“I assume he felt guilty,” Xanton continued, “but more than I would have expected him to be… so I ask… is that truly all that he said to you?”

Kethek scowled, looking Xanten over with scrutiny. Why was he questioning him?

“I told you the extent of it. Is it not believable? Is there a reason you’re so curious?”

“Kethek. You know just as well as I what’s at stake. It isn’t just you at risk. It isn’t just the prince. It’s all of us. The entire Blade. I know you know better than to jeopardize that with whatever is happening here. You're stronger than most, I’ll grant you,, but any mistakes I’ve seen you make in the past were because you listened to your heart and not your head. That is where your weakness lies.“

Kethek felt his stomach sink, but in a way that just made him angry.

“It’s been a long time since then, Xanten.” He growls.

“Yes. So you mustn’t fall prey to it now, after so long maintaining your strength. Keep your guard up. We all depend on it.”

And then, in what was a very rare gesture, Xanten placed a hand on the side of his shoulder, his lips drawn in a thin line as he contemplated his next words.

“Nothing can happen with the prince. Remember that. You need to be focused. We all do.”

Kethek scowled, the words settling into his gut uncomfortably. He knew he couldn’t let anything happen to the prince. Hell he’d proven that he was well aware of that. They both knew. So Kethek couldn't help but think that he was saying something else entirely. Unrelated to the prince's safety.

“I’ll be ready to assist if ever you need me again. He concluded then, choosing to move on quickly before Kethek could dwell on his words much longer.”

“Let me know and I’ll be here. If you need time off… distance. Contact me.”

And with that, Xanten was gone, leaving Kethek with a heavy heart and a pit in his stomach.

He wasn’t being hypothetical. He’d been making a suggestion. Not in reference to Lance’s safety, but to Lance’s affairs.

Nothing can happen with Lance.

Kethek wanted to scream. Which in of itself was frustrating. Because he shouldn’t feel the need to scream right now. If he was in his right mind, he’d see the logic in this. He’d consider the mission and recognize his inability to focus and agreeably step down from the position. For the sake of the mission.

But then again If he’d been in his right mind at all this whole time, he wouldn’t have been in this position to begin with. Lance would be the prince of Altea, the key to winning the war and his responsibility to keep out of harm's way. Not Lance… who asked him to dance at the summer festival and smiles like the sun. Lance. It was the name that Lance had asked him to call him. The final blow to any strict professionalism they’d once maintained. It had been Lance’s choice. But he hadn’t thought twice about agreeing.

He was crumbling and honestly, he’d just about lost all confidence in his ability to keep himself from him. In small ways… small slip ups… he’d already failed. Already made mistakes he knows he can’t come back from. He was going insane… because he wanted nothing more than to fail completely. Find himself in the position of being completely helpless. In a place where his brain and better judgement had no stake over what decision he made.

His legs were shaking and his heart was pounding and even as he repeated in his head, over and over, “nothing can happen with Lance,” his resolve crumbled further. Because it only made him realize how powerless he was to keep that from happening.

Terrified, he realized that he would fail. Wanted to even, and the terror wasn’t even enough to hold him back. He had to leave.

Lance was right. The only option was for him to leave. But still, he didn’t tell Xanten.

Instead he charged back to his quarters. Did so as fast as he could.

He locks himself behind his door, out of breath and angry.

But as he looks around the room, all he can think of is Lance. Again. Lance here, in his space, looking luminescent and bright, commenting about how little personality the room had. How he’d wanted to take him around the Altean markets to buy him things to make his stay here feel more like home.

It makes his heart clench. Especially when he remembered how he’d turned him down. Made Lance look so hurt. He hates himself for it almost as much as he hates that he cares as much as he does.

The room still has no character. No semblance of his personality. It may as well be empty, and Kethek can’t help but to think it’s actually very fitting for him after all. Empty and colorless.

He begins packing, consumed with emotion and anger. He can feel his eyes growing brighter. The hairs on his neck standing taller. His teeth growing sharper.

It took him all of 5 minutes. To remove every personal item he possessed and place it back into the same bag he’d carried it all here with. Just like that, he was removed from his place in this castle. On this planet. It had never been permanent. He knew that from the beginning.

But hell if it didn’t make him ache in the absolute worst way.

He sat himself down in his cot, feeling too heavy to stand and just… glared at the floor, his hands raking through the sides of his hair, his nails sharper now and often gouging a bit too deep into his scalp.

But he barely noticed. He just stared at the small bag in the middle of his floor. At the room that looked the same as it did before he started packing.

He stared at nothing… and his mind swarmed with images of Lance.

He hated it. He hated that he could do nothing to control it.

And then… something just… snapped. Like his chest cracked in half under the pressure from inside him, begging him to break.

He stands, choking on a breath and tugging at his hair.

And then, Before he knew it, without an ounce of pause between such certainty that he could never have anything with Lance, to complete submission to the idea making it known to him where he stands, he was en route to his room, heart pounding and nerves on fire as every bit of control he had fell to the wayside.

Every step he took had him feeling more and more like he was going insane. But he didn’t stop. He passed the rows of guards lining the halls without so much as a glance. With little care for anything other than arriving at Lance’s room.

He all but charged up to Lance’s door, which, he was sure, was to the confusion of every royal guard that stood at attention in the halls outside his room, but Kethek didn’t care. He knocked. Loudly. Head spinning too much to think twice.

It was quiet for a moment, and then… a click of the doors. The sound felt like lightning shooting through his core.

The door opens to Lance, well be composed and poised. A serious and inquisitive, yet emotionless expression on his features.

It’s what Kethek has come to know as his prince mask. The one he wears in front of his people and visiting dignitaries and it visibly fractures the second he registers who had come for him.

His eyes widen and his jaw slacks, his brows pinching together. His squared shoulders round out, almost in a defensive way- an instinctive but subtle act of cowering from him.

The hurt and the self consciousness and the confusion erupts from that simple movement and it has Kethek clenching his fists.

Lance opens his mouth to say something, Kethek doesn’t wait for him to begin before he charges through the door, determination in his every step.

Surprise consumes Lance again, even more now, as he’s forced to step away from the door with Kethek’s charging advance and as soon as the door clicks behind them, Lance’s eyes big and wide, Kethek is opening his mouth to speak.

“You said you feel safer with me.” He blurts.

And then there’s silence. Lance blinking at him, mouth hanging open with unspoken words.

So Kethek just keeps going. Before he can convince himself otherwise.

“You’re confused by my lack of caring and you don’t think I feel anything at all… which I get. Because every day I do everything I can to control my emotions.”

Kethek breaths, his body beginning to shake with his expelled breaths and everything inside of him starts to crumble.

“But I can’t control them. I keep failing and I can’t pretend anymore.”

“I had never… found so much peace... in all my life than I have when I was able to hold you.”

“I don’t know if you’ll ever fathom... just what you do to me. How completely I am yours. How little I care for anything else.

Lance’s mouth hangs open, his entire ok re body falling still as Kethek speaks. And then… then there were tears, quickly accumulated and thick, Lance’s eyes wide and his brows pinched together and he looked at him as though he wasn’t sure he was real.

“K-Kethek-” Lance stutters again, his eyes even wider now. “Wh-“

“I have been able to do nothing but think about you. Every waking moment I have and even when I’m asleep. You’ve consumed my thoughts, and you’re right. It’s distracting as hell. But you were wrong when you said I didn’t care. You have no idea how wrong.

A grin, radiant and overjoyed ever so slowly begins to bloom beneath Lance’s hands where he holds them over his lips and it churns Kethek’s stomach and makes him feel like his heart had left his body.

“But distracting or not, I am not leaving.“ Kethek continues. “I could not live with myself if I left you in the care of someone other than myself. I would lose my mind with worry.”

Lance laughs… breathy and tearful. He moves to come closer to him, and like a reflex, Kethek steps back.

Lance’s face falls again, looking even more confused, and it’s all Kethek can do to keep himself composed.

“As much as all this is true... as much as I am devoted and unwilling to leave your side, this doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t trust me.” Kethek says, trying to quickly rebuild the barrier between them that he'd just brought down.

“You shouldn’t feel safe with me. I’m the last person who should have your faith put into. I don’t deserve you. You deserve a prince. Or a princess. Anyone but me, Lance. You don’t have any idea how much bigger this is than just me…. but I can’t- I can’t stand the fact that you don’t think I care. That you can look at me and have no conception of how untrue that is…. but I can’t- I’m not someone you should have any trust in.

“… I can’t trust you?” Lance speaks quietly after a moment of silence. “What, would you hurt me if I did?”

Kethek’s response is immediate. Guttural.

“No. No. Not ever.”

Lance scoffs. “Then why can’t I trust you?”

“Because I’m dangerous, Lance!”

“Yes, you are!” Lance tells him. “Terrifying and strong and fearless… but you would never hurt me! I know that with every fiber of my soul!”

He takes a step forward, persistent and determined, eyes not leaving Kethek’s own. Daring him to step back again.

Kethek doesn’t. His heart is hammering but he stands still. Utterly defenseless.

Slowly Lance’s hands find his and then they’re under his arms and over his face and before he even realized what happened, Lance was hugging him, his tears bleeding into the undersuit suit of his armor.

Kethek almost chokes, vibrating under Lance’s embrace. Doing everything in his power to not give in to it.

“I trust you.” Lance says, leaving no room for argument. “No evil person would ever plow down my door in the middle of the night to tell me that he cares about me… knowing that it was… everything that I ever needed to hear. Knowing how much it would soothe me.”

He pulls back a little, looking into Kethek’s eyes, his hand somehow at the back of his neck now.

“Nothing you ever say could convince me that you’re not worthy of my trust.”

And Kethek is, all at once, falling apart and being brought back together. Terrified and soothed, in turmoil and in peace… because Lance shouldn’t be holding him. But he is…. and everything inside of him ached because of it, his head absolutely reeling.

Lance was so soft. So close and gentle and caring. He was holding him and his hands were suddenly carding through the hair on his nape and Kethek had never felt so much in his life. His heart had never felt so full. He’d never had anyone touch him the way Lance does. Never felt so desperate, in all his life, to touch him back. To be touched. To feel the plush of his lips. The warmth of his skin and breath. To hear him say his name in the way that only Lance can. With warmth and care and everything that makes Kethek think that maybe, just maybe, he’s not as horrible of a person as he feels he’s become.

He loves this. He wants it so bad. He wants Lance to drown him in the blue of his eyes. He wants to give Lance his everything, he wants to promise him the stars and the moon and wants to show him. Show him how much he’s been dying to have him in his arms.

But he continues to hold back. Lance can feel him holding back. He can see it in his eyes. In the stiffness he maintains while Lance tries to rub the knots out of his shoulders and coax him into comfort.

He looks at Lance with the most piercing stare. A scowl set into his features, as rigid as a carving in stone.

Lance frowns, moving his hand to brush the hair at the side of his head behind his ear before putting it at the side of his cheek, cupping his palm around his chin and rubbing a thumb over his cheek bone.

“Kethek…” he whispers, voice pleading. “You’re ok here. We’re safe. You don’t have to be so-“

And then he saw it. The shine in Kethek’s eyes, the glint of something along his waterline. The pinching between his brows and the slight, almost barely there quirk of his bottom lip and clenching of his jaw.

Lance’s eyes flew wide, concern flooding his entire body and consuming the expression on his face as he realized what he was looking at.

“Oh- Kethek, are you crying? Oh my god, Kethek!”

Lance’s other hand was on his face in seconds, comforting him and running his thumbs along the bottoms of his eyes. Kethek’s face only twisted more, biting his bottom lip and seeming as though he was using all his strength to keep himself looking composed.

Lance had never, not ever, seen Kethek cry before. He would not have ever expected it. He’d thought he’d never see it. But here he was. Crying. Right in front of him.

Lance wasn’t sure it even constituted as crying, at least not by Lance’s standards, but for Kethek? Emotionless, scowling, unmovable, tough guy Kethek? He may as well have been curled up in a ball sobbing.

“Kethek…!” he says, voice soft and soothing. “What’s wrong?”

Kethek only shakes his head in response, brows pinching more, he tries to turn his face away but Lance keeps him turned towards him. Keeps him steady.

And when Kethek finally speaks, his voice betrays him in a way that makes Lance’s heart ache. He sounds broken and defeated and sad. It’s more emotion than Lance had ever heard exit his mouth and is so overwhelming and it’s all Lance can do to not start crying himself because of it.

“I can’t do this, Lance…” He says. “I can’t.”

“Do what?” Lance asks, genuinely unsure. Can’t be with him? Can’t have feelings for him? Can’t betray Allura’s orders and trust?

“I can’t fall in love.”

For a moment, Lance thinks he might have imagined it. But the words slowly start to unravel before him and Kethek’s hands clench and Lance realizes… slowly comes to understand that…. that was a confession. A Kethek brand, so subtle you might not even realize, but also so blatant there’s no way to miss it, confession, and it slams into Lance and leaves him breathless.

“… What?” He asks, because he’s honestly still not sure if he’s dreaming.

“I can’t do this!” Kethek says, voice breaking even more, An arm rising sharply to snap back and forth between them in a gesture demonstrating their proximity and their general comfort level with each other.

His face is angry again, but somehow Lance knows it’s not directed at him. He knows that for some reason, it’s himself that he’s mad at.

Lance moves slowly then, delicately to snake his arms under Kethek’s arms and up and around his shoulders. The action only draws him closer and he watches knowingly as Kethek’s face melts yet again. He swears he can feel the yearning in his muscles that beg him to hold him back. The way he softens and sways just slightly before he’s ridged again, like every time Lance touches him, something inside him submits to it unwillingly before Kethek can fight it off.

“You’re hurting, Kethek.” He says it like he already knows it’s true.

“Am… am I hurting you?”

And then Kethek scoffs. Like he actually genuinely scoffs and it takes Lance aback.

He shakes his head. Squeezing his eyes shut briefly, before looking back at Lance.

He doesn’t say anything. Just swallows and keeps shaking his head.

And it’s then that Lance realises. He realizes that maybe, it’s really not him. Not at all.

Kethek is afraid of something.

“Kethek…” he tries, speaking slow and soft. “You know you’re safe here… right? You know I’ll keep you safe.”

Kethek nods.

“You know I think the world of you. That I hold none of the same opinions that my people might.“

Kethek nods again.

“I know that. I’m afraid of that… but that’s not… it’s more complicated than that. There’s a lot more at risk than you know…. a lot more… and… and I don’t know if… I don’t-“

His eyes fill with more tears and he bites his lip, huffing in frustration. He looked genuinely angered by his lack of ability to hold back his tears.

“Let me help.” Lance says unthinkingly. “I’m sure I could-“

And then Kethek is shaking his head again. “I’m supposed to be protecting you, Lance. I shouldn’t be bringing you into this-“

“I don’t care.” Lance cut him off.

Kethek paused, blinking at him.

“Kethek, I genuinely am not sure if you’ve noticed- I haven’t exactly been subtle- but I genuinely do not care about what you should and should not do or what’s allowed and what’s not.” “I meant what I said about not listening to my sisters rules on how to treat me…” Lance said, looking at Kethek through long lashes, and pressing himself closer still into him, feeling him yield and then stiffen again.

“Do to me or say to me whatever it is you’re not letting yourself do or say. Because stars, Kethek… I want it just as badly.”

Kethek squeezes his eyes shut, looking down and away from his eyes which unintentionally brings them close enough that their foreheads brush. But instead of pulling back, in spite of his initial flinch of surprise at the contact, he stays, right there, forehead almost pressed against his as a tear runs down the side of his face.

And then, with a slow shift, Lance feels his arms come to rest over his hips and Lance’s breath catches. But the moment is over as soon as he feels the hold on his hips used to push him away. Gently and with reluctance, but still away.

“I can’t” Kethek says. “I can’t, Lance.”

His voice is breaking, wobbly and his words lack the finality that they once held. He’s yielding… but he’s still fighting back.

So Lance stops pushing. Kethek said that he can’t. Several times. So there was nothing he could do. Instead, he decides to try and compromise.

“Ok…” he whispers. “Ok, it’s ok. You can’t. You can’t. I get it, it’s… its ok.”

“I’m sorry I keep trying to hold you I just… like you said, I feel safer with you.” He whispered. “Like this… with you, here… it’s… I haven’t felt… I never feel…”

Lance searches for the words he needs, but finds that he doesn’t have to say anything because Kethek speaks up for him. He’s not looking into his eyes, and it’s barely there, but he’s speaking to him.

“My job is to make you feel comfortable. If you need to be near me for that to happen, then I won’t leave your side. That hasn’t changed. It never will. My leaving… will never happen.”

Lance flushes with relief and love and hope and home smiles shyly.

He opens his arms.

“How about just one more hug then…?”

Kethek quirked a brow and Lance chuckled, feeling warm.

“I’m a hugger.“ He says sheepishly. “Just one hug and I won’t ask for anything else.”

Kethek looks resigned for a moment, like he’d tell him no, but then nods, still not meeting his eyes. He nods and lets Lance in again. One last time.

Lance flushes with relief.

Kethek couldn’t do… something. But Lance could. Lance could cuddle him, wrap himself around Kethek. He could just… soak in his comfort and he’d be content and safe just being able to have him so close one more time. He wanted more, of course. But Kethek was very adamant that he couldn’t, and Lance had to respect that. So he’d take what he could get.

So he pulls at the hood of Kethek’s armor and slowly drags him back in.

He leans in towards him. Huddled into Kethek’s space, head tucked under his chin and Lance has never felt so good so quickly. So… perfect with Kethek so near him.

But then he’s moving. And it’s not of his own accord. Kethek, hesitant and subtle, is suddenly pulling him in closer.

Lance’s heart flutters so viciously he almost passes out, holding on to Kethek tighter as he lets him move him into position, molding into him like he was meant to be there.

Kethek’s hands find his back, and Lance’s heart skips a beat. They’re too close to look at each other so Lance can’t monitor his expression, but he realizes then that Kethek’s heart is pounding too.

In this new position, with Lance’s head bent into Kethek’s chest. He can hear it. He can feel it. Pounding so fast and so frantically.

Lance realizes then, oddly enough, that it’s the most emotion Lance has ever been able to feel from Kethek. His face is set like a stone and his body taught like the string of a bow, constantly on the precipice between fight or flight. But Lance is finally able to see through it. What lies beneath his facade.

His heart has been a dead giveaway this whole time, and his most hidden expression of emotion.

How many times, he wonders, had Kethek’s heart beat like this. That first night in the kitchens, when Had snuck out and gotten caught by Kethek before he’d offered to accompany him? The briefings with his sister? When he’d advocated for them to go through with holding the dimmer festival? The night of the ball? When they’d first held each other and danced but were still miles apart? Had Kethek’s heart always best like this for him?

And then he feels it. A warm press of something at the top of his head.

He goes still, feels Kethek’s heart beat even faster, and then Lance realizes. Kethek had kissed him.

His eyes go wide. Slowly he moves away just enough to look up, blinking at him, and suddenly, unexpectedly, while just barely up and off of Kethek’s chest, Kethek pushed forwards, up towards Lance. A hand finding the nape of his neck and then his lips are on Lance’s.

He’s kissing him.

Lance’s heart summersaults. Positively drips out of his chest and leaves him feeling like he needs to gasp. But he can’t because Kethek’s lips… rough and gentle all at once, are stealing the breath from his lungs.

The way Kethek touched him. Each minuscule movement. Each brush of skin and press and caress. It was all so reverent. So intensional and deliberate. Lance felt like his body was a treasure the way Kethek handled it with such care.

His hands lingered in places that Lance wouldn’t have expected them to. Traced along the line of his bones into the meat of his sides and down to the small plush of his belly.

Kethek touched him like he’d never touched another body before. Like through touching Lance’s skin he was touching his soul. It was an exploration. An honoring of flesh and life and all the mundane things that comprised it. The feel of his skin against his palms was more than just a casual exchange. Lance could feel that for Kethek, it was discovery. A tentative but exhilarating exploration of something important. Something undiscovered and new and precious.

Every movement seemed to marvel at the existence of a small proximity between them. Every caress held so much emotion. So much power. It was a small gesture that held years upon years of restraint within it. It was an outpouring of desire crashing through him. Of longing and love released with each tiny touch and Lance swore he could feel it tingling his skin.

It was breathtaking. Enough where all Lance could think to do was melt into it. Watch Kethek explore him. Worship him. Revel in the reality that he could. That he was finally allowing himself to. Of the real, raw, tangible possession of permission to achieve his most wanted desire.

To be close to him.

It was like a rush of flowing water breaking through a dam. Once it broke, there was no stopping it.

Once Kethek allowed himself to give in, he was hopeless to the pull between them. At the will of the rapids that carried him through his once repressed emotions to crash eventually at Lance’s shores.

Kethek pulled back from the kiss only long enough for his nose to nudge at the flesh of Lance’s inner wrist, eyes squeezed closed with his entire being focused on the soft press of it against his skin. The smooth warmth and the slender structure. From the surface down to the bone- how his muscles moved and his pulse beat. He seemed to cling to it. Reach out for it and hold it to his chest. Lance’s life force- his very quintessence surrounding him.

And then his lips were back on his. Quick kisses, long kisses, reverent and slow kisses.

Lance’s breaths were shallow and his heart was pounding and everything in him was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the sheer adoration Kethek displayed for him. It made him feel faint.

“Kethek...” he breathed, his body pressed up against Kethek’s middle, Kethek’s hand trailing around his back and to the side of his stomach, under and around his ribs while the other traced circled across his cheek, through the hair at the back of his head, and around down to the skin stretched over his jaw and onto his neck.

At the sound of his name he shifted, pulling Lance closer still and moving his forehead to nudge at his own, his brows pinched.

He let out a stuttering breath, wobbly and meek, the air seeming to punch out of him in greater amounts than he’d anticipated. It left him to gasp his name, fingers pressing harder Into the meat of his hip. Lance could tell he was on the verge of tears. Overwhelmed so completely by Lance’s being within his grasp. By the sensation of touch and the emotion it carried with it.

“Kethek …oh my god, Kethek…”

He, in every sense, was still in awe. Shell shocked and breathless, eyes wide.

He looked at Kethek, at the rim of tears in his eyes, and he could not even fathom the reality of it all.

So he says the only thing he feels able to in the moment.

“Are you going to cry every time you touch me now?”

His words were teasing, he chuckled a bit and he brushed a tuft of hair behind Kethek’s ear while Kethek cradled him tighter. Drowning in all that Lance was so willingly. So desperately, that when he looked up to Lance with the utmost of seriousness in his eyes and kissed him again, Lance’s playfulness was immediately replaced by an understanding that yes, Kethek might actually shamelessly cry every time, and that meant that the severity of their bond was no laughing matter to him.

Kethek kissed him like fire. Gentle in appearance but fiercely passionate in practice. His lips clung to his, plush and soft and biting all at once. It left them both breathless, Lance starry eyed and Kethek dazed with hunger.

And then he’s hugging him, breaths shaky and heart racing from where Lance can feel it pressed up against his chest.

Kethek holds him so close. His hands mapping him out and savoring every touch. His nose nuzzles into the side of his head and he just… holds him… treasures him. Gasping in breaths and continually realizing, over and over that this is real. That finally, he’s holding him.

Lance feels like he’s floating, heart burning and senses lit up, feeling like fireworks were bursting On his skin every time Kethek hands find purchase on a new place among his back of his neck or his hip.

He’s so lost in it that he doesn’t realize, for and long time, that Kethek is shaking. Viciously shaking.

It’s only when Kethek pulls away, only slightly, resting his forehead against his and gasps that he finally realizes.

It’s not a good gasp. It’s one that sounds devastated. The shaking worsens and Lance’s heart sinks.

Kethek is cowering. Short of breath and flat out terrified.

“Kethek!” He says, pulling back and trying to soothe him. “Kethek, what’s wrong? You’re ok, shhhh, you’re alright, it’s ok!”

Kethek shakes his head. His eyes squeezing shut. All he manages to choke out is “I can’t!”

Lance wants to cry.

Kethek, strong and unaffected Kethek looks like he’s breaking into bits. He knows it’s not because of him…. he knows what Kethek wants. That he had been the one to kiss him…. but something…. something terrible he’s bound itself to Kethek’s soul that cripples him in the face of intimacy. Lance can see it now. Plain as day. And it makes his heart break.

Lance just does the only thing he can think to do and continues to try and sooth him as he breaks down. Whispers assurances into his ear and rubs his back, cradling him against his chest.

He doesn’t dare ask what’s happening. He doesn’t want to put Kethek in more pain by asking him to unearth his demons for him.

Which is why when Kethek ends up doing it himself, his heart nearly stops.

“Lance…” he whimpers, his body shaking as he speaks his name, muffled with tears and so weak.”

“I- I know where the green lion is.”

Lance stops cold, eyes going wide in shock.

“W-wait what?” Lance stutters, pulling back from Kethek even further.

“Kethek chokes on another sob and squeezes his eyes shut tighter, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

He’s inconsolable. Wrecked with tears and gasping for air as he utters, with what appears to be gut wrenching force, the last thing Lance had ever expected to hear.

“And I killed- I killed the only other person I think I ever loved... to keep it safe.”

Chapter Text

When you had responsibilities as demanding and important as Lance’s were, you took sleep seriously. You went to bed at a reasonable varga and didn’t dawdle in your nightly routine. With diplomacy, you had to be presentable. Anything about your appearance or demeanor could rub somebody the wrong way enough to decide that you weren’t trustworthy.

So showing up at meetings with bags under your eyes, a slouch in your back, or a lack of energy could mean the difference between receiving aid for a dying planet in the coalition that houses some of the most important means of production that the war relies on, or letting the planet fall to decay and take the resources with it because the king near enough to be of assistance and solve the problem said no.

Lance took this very seriously. When he was younger he learned the hard way that appearances were too important in the world of diplomacy and had to get his act together fast.

He kept himself responsible when it was important to be but also established himself as having a personality outside of his duties enough so that people knew that if he liked to have fun and go on adventures too, it didn’t make him any less trustworthy.

He trained and made sure that nobody ever had to question his merit and his skill and most importantly, he got his sleep.

Which is why now, at a varga he rarely gets to see, in the shadowed darkness of his room, Lance is terrified that he can’t get himself to fall asleep. He’s wide awake. Head pounding. Heart racing. Skin sweaty and too hot.

And it was all because of Kethek.

Lance had told him he still trusted him. That he wasn’t afraid of him and he truly had meant what he said, in every way. He meant it to his core, but... he couldn’t deny that he’d felt like his insides had frozen over. Everything inside him fell still and a panic rose up his throat from his core that he had felt ashamed of.

He had known Kethek was a spy. He knew the stories of his work with the Blade of Marmora. He knew that many, many beings had died at his hands. Hell, he’d seen it for himself. How little inhibition he portrayed when confronting and taking down Lance’s assassins.

But Kethek, curled in on himself and gasping for air between sobs… Kethek who never let someone get close to him. Kethek who had countless walls built up around him. It had been so unexpected. And suddenly everything had started to click into place. Suddenly, for maybe the first time, Kethek, and all his confusing behaviors and complexities, started to make sense.

Lance went through it in his head, over and over again, thinking of the nights prior events. Looking for anything he might have done better... ways he could have helped him more.

Lance had composed himself, worked through his initial shock, and then moved forwards, his expression serious and searching when he met Kethek’s watery gaze. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed forwards so soon? Maybe that might have helped Kethek cm down faster...

But instead he had moved a hand, gently brushing the hair from his face and the tears from his cheek and pulled him close.

“It’s ok. Sshhh.. Kethek, it’s ok.” He’d whispered. Calming and without judgement. He’d pulled Kethek over to the couch, an arm around his back to guide him. Gently he gave him space beside him and urged Kethek to fill it.

He did. His legs were shaky and he hadn’t looked Lance in the eyes, but he sat down next to him.

Lance had placed a delicate hand on his lap and reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear.

But Kethek just kept crying and it hurt Lance so much to watch.

“Kethek, I’m not going to judge you, ok?” He’d told him. “I’m here to listen. Just tell me what happened- if you can… you don’t have to say anything if-“

But Kethek had shaken his head before Lance could finish, his eyes squeezing tighter.

Lance quieted, pressing his mouth closed to give Kethek time to speak if he wanted to.

It took a long time. Maybe an entire varga of silence for anything to happen, in which time Lance had dedicated himself to making Kethek as calm as he could be, trying to get him to stop crying.

His efforts didn’t prove to be of much use in the end, as Kethek’s floodgates had seemed to have been opened with no hope to stop him, but Lance let it happen. Let him cry. Even if he hated every minute of having to watch him fall apart.

Kethek did end up speaking after a long while though. Sobs turned to chokes which turned to soft sniffles.

Lance had molded himself further into Kethek’s side, pressing up against him and rubbing his hand down his back and along the side of his arm.

At a certain point, Lance hadn’t been sure he'd say anything at all. Didn’t even expect him to.

It’s only after Kethek managed to get himself somewhat silent again that he ended up speaking, his expression firm and his eyes puffy from the tears.

He looked to his hands and wrung them together in his lap.

Lance had never seen him like this.

He looked… frail. Nervous. Heartbroken. And it was such a contrast to the Kethek he’d met when this all started.

“It’s one of the most…. painful memories I have.” Kethek finally told him, breaths shaky and voice weak,

“You seem to have too many painful memories.” Lance had said softly, brushing a hand down his shoulder.

Kethek didn’t reply. Instead he frowned. Bit his lip and held back what looked like another wave of tears by the way his eyes shined.

“Why are you so ok with this?!” Kethek asked then, turning to look at Lance for the first time in a while. There was fire and confusion in his eyes and it made Lance ache.

“I told you I murdered someone I loved and you just- you have nothing to say about that?”

“You haven’t yet told me the story.” Lance had replied calmly. “Who am I to judge you when I don’t have all the information?”

“What more information do you need beyond murder?!” Kethek asked.

Lance shook his head feeling like he might tear up again, his heart beating with that same anxiety from earlier. And then looked down to Kethek’s hands, balled up in fists in his lap, deciding to push it away. Any anxiety he had would not help either of them. So he pushed it away. To be forgotten with the best of his ability.

Gently he’d taken Kethek’s hands into his instead, coaxing them to unfurl and relax into his own

He’d brushed his thumbs over the backs of his hands and looked back up to Kethek.

“You’ve shown me nothing but good nature and kindness and protection.” He told him. “You’ve done nothing to warrant any mistrust from me, and as a result, even if it’s unwise of me, I trust you. I don’t believe that anything you choose to do comes from a place of evil.”

“No the notion that you were intentionally responsible for the death of someone close to you isn’t a notion that I greet without unease and shock, but my trust in you puts a desire for understanding before a desire for accusation. My judgement will come only after you’ve explained to me the circumstances.”

Kethek just stared at him. Eyes wet and brows pinched. He breathed a shaky sigh when he finally looked away and shrunk in on himself again.

“I don’t deserve that kind of trust.” He had told him.

“That might be what you think…” Lance replied. “But I think differently.”

Kethek shook his head and put his head in his hands, so Lance had taken the opportunity to scoot even closer into his side.

“Lance... I don’t know if I can…” he whispered. “I don’t know if...”

He’d chocked out another sob, unable to finish, and Lance understood.

He might not have it in his power to tell the details of the story, and Lance didn’t blame him. He’s not sure he would be able to do it either if their roles were reversed. In fact, he’s almost sure that he wouldn’t have been able.

“I want to tell you... Kethek said quietly. I don’t want to keep anything from you and I know that I should have told you... a long time ago... for the soul purpose of retrieving the lion.... but...”

Kethek cringed again, biting his lip to fight off another sob.

“I want to tell you... I don’t want to hide it... I want so badly to just…”

Suddenly Kethek went still, eyes sharp with a new thought coming to his head.

He sucks in a breath and turns to Lance, looking him in the eyes.

“What...?” Lance asked him.

“I...” Kethek began, gathering his words. “Before I was assigned this mission, I had been reading about Altea. And your father. About the lions. I read once that he made a device for paladin training that could meld your mind to another’s, so long as they both had bonds to a lion.”

Lance blinks, eyebrows slowly drawing together in concern. Looking like he was mentally taking big steps backwards, away from what Kethek was insinuating, though his body stayed still.

“Yes…” Lance eventually replied. “It was an exercise he created for paladin bonding. Intended to be used when there was five paladins. To ease the struggle of becoming a unit with five totally different minds. He developed them to a point where he knew it would work, but... five paladins were never found, and the only other person he could use them with was Zarkon.... he never got to test them... or anything.”

“But he knew that they would work.” Kethek confirmed.

“Well... yeah, but Kethek it’s... it’s not just like- put them on and see each others thoughts... it’s supposed to be an intense melding of consciousness. If, say you remembered being stabbed, whoever was doing the exercise with you would be feeling the pain of being stabbed too. It can be dangerous. It takes training and bonding to be able to focus your mind on-“

“My life has been nothing but training to focus my mind, Lance.” Kethek interrupted. I’ve spent years doing it. That’s how I’ve survived. I can do this. I promise you, I will do nothing... nothing that would ever hurt you. I won’t even allow the possibility.

Lance bit the inside of his lip, feeling his heart flutter in the way that Kethek always seemed to trigger. A burning warmth of affection he could not control when it poured out of his chest so willingly.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Kethek.” Lance assured. “I don’t have to tell anyone about the green lion, you don’t have to explain yourself, or prove anything- just- I trust you.”

“Then trust me to do this. Kethek asked. I... I can’t... I need you to know. I want you to know, but... but I can’t- I wouldn’t be able to get through the whole story without....”

Kethek pauses, swallowing and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before regaining some composure.

A moment of silence passes between them and Lance, very unnerved by the idea that Kethek would think it necessary to go to such extremes was stuck. On one hand, they needed to find the green lion. Retrieving all the lions was among Altea’s very top priorities. But on the other hand, Kethek was the only one who knew it’s exact whereabouts and he couldn’t get through a full conversation about it without breaking down.

It was an option Kethek had been the one to suggest. He was begging him... and theoretically it was what would move them past all of this. Satisfy both sides. But he knew how painful this was for Kethek and the last thing he wanted to do was force Kethek into those memories again if he didn’t have to. Especially memories that would become incredibly vivid through the mind meld exercise.

But Kethek wanted this. Felt like he needed this. To assure Lance. To prove himself. And if that was what he felt was the answer, Lance wouldn’t hold him back from it.

“Ok…” he said eventually, sighing in defeat.

“Tomorrow. We can do it tomorrow.”

Kethek blinked at him, eyes wet and yet still so stoic. Lance met his gaze with a serious one of his own and squeezed his hands.

“Tomorrow.” He promised.

Kethek nodded, looking back down at his lap and wiping at his eyes.

But Lance wasn’t having that.

He let go of one of Kethek’s hands to tilt up his chin so Lance could look at him again and gently moved in for the softest... most comforting kiss he could give.

His lips merely brushed over his, slotting together for just long enough that they clung together when he pulled back again, but only enough where their foreheads were just barely far enough apart to keep from touching.

“Nothing I see tomorrow changes anything.” He promised, moving his hand into his hair.

“Nothing.”

And Kethek looks weak with emotion, his lips trembling as he shakes his head, blinking tears from his eyes.

“You don’t know that.” He said

“I do.” Lance counters. “I promise.”

Kethek had not looked convinced, but he nodded nonetheless, leaning into Lance’s hand and biting at the inside of his lip.

And then, as though none of it had ever happened, he was collecting himself. Drying his eyes, and leaving Lance’s room for the night, muttering apologies that Lance kept insisting he didn’t have to give.

He stopped only once on his way out the door, to turn and place a kiss on the top of Lance’s head that made his heart flip, and then he was leaving. Re-adorning himself with that mask of cold indifference that Lance knew so well.

And now he was here. Alone in his room. Feeling too many feelings. Lying in bed. Unable to sleep. Unable to think of anything other than Kethek and everything that had just happened.

When sleep eventually did come, it was just before the sun started to rise and definitely too late to allow him any more than a few vargas of sleep.

He woke up feeling worse than he’d felt the night before, groggy and sluggish and knew for a fact that today... today would be difficult.

The rollercoaster of the past 50 Vargas almost had him out of his wits completely.

Almost.

The first several moments of his first bits of consciousness had him thinking he’d dreamt all that had happened the previous night, but very quickly came to discover that yes. Kethek had in fact busted down his door to profess his love for him as well as his adamant belief that he was no good for Lance.

He had in fact left that night after kissing him and touching him and holding him. After telling him his deepest secrets and regrets. After crying in his arms. And today, they did in fact have plans to do a mind meld.

It felt quite literally that the world had turned upside down. Kethek went from emotionally stunted and cold to so warm it almost burned.

He went from the healing pod to kissing him in Lance’s room quicker than he would have ever imagined possible.

And now they were here. In this new set of circumstances they’d made together.

They couldn’t go back now, and Lance couldn’t dream of ever wanting to. In spite of everything.

Lance sighed, the memories of the previous night heavy on his mind and in his heart.

No matter how many times he went over it in his head, Lance was starting to realize that nothing he could have said would have had Kethek leaving in better spirits. He’d done all he could and the situation they were involved in was what was meant to be. All he could do now was take it in stride.

That’s what he told himself while he brushed his teeth. White he took a shower and changed out of his sleep cloths. It was all he let himself think about. Nothing negative. Only thoughts of moving forward. No more thoughts questioning what more he could have done. Thinking like that had cost him his sleep. And it would do them no good in the mind meld. Lance had to focus on Kethek. On helping him. If he could do that, they’d be ok. This mind meld would work out. Maybe even be of some use.

It’s that thought that gets him through the morning and allows him to be ready to exit his room and face the world.

Kethek’s knock came as it always did. Precisely on time after Lance had drudged through his morning routine, attempting to look halfway decent.

He took a deep breath, smoothed out the wrinkles of his pants, and strode forwards.

No going back.

_____

“I WANT BLOOD!”

The words still managed to make Kethek’s heart seize up. The sheer terror they elicited, even though he’d known in that moment and for such a long time after... that it had never been a real sentiment. That it had been to keep them all alive.

It had saved Matt’s life. Or at least... that’s what he could hope. He hadn’t seen Matt since that day. And he had to confront the reality that anything could have happened to him by now. He could be dead. Just like Shiro.

“Go Keith, GO!”

He should have listened. Maybe if he’d listened, Shiro could have been spared. Continued to be used as a pawn for their entertainment, fighting beasts for his life, but still alive. Shiro was strong. He could have figured it out. Could have made it. But Kethek had been younger. Stubborn. And so, so afraid.

Shiro had been his whole world.

In a sick, twisted way, he was somewhat thankful that Shiro hadn’t been conscious to see what happened next. His shame about it, to this day, was often too great to stomach. He hadn’t known it was happening at the time. All he knew was pain and rage and devastation and the worst heartbreak he’d ever felt at that point in his life.

He hadn’t realized the changing of his skin. Didn’t realize that his teeth had sharpened and his ears had elongated and his eyes had glazed over completely with a solid, glowing gold.

He pulled a knife on Shiro’s killers, and then.... everyone was dead. But not by his own hand.

Only two of the soldiers remained standing after a tornado of blood and screams and battle, and before he knew at all what had happened, he was pulled away, hidden in a room he had not known was nearby, shoved inside.

He couldn’t do anything but cry. Sob. Not enough in control of himself to try and keep quiet. Or even recognize in the first place that he had been rescued and hidden in this secret room and that those two guards were his saviors.

He couldn’t even contemplate or fear for the reasons why they saved him. He could only think of Shiro’s body, laying in a pool of blood next to the others, curl up in a ball, and sob until he lost his voice. His brother… his only guiding light as a kid with no one left who cared about him. Dead on the ground and gone forever.

He doesn’t consciously remember much of what happened next. Or at least between sobbing in a tiny dark room and being jostled awake in another room that glowed indigo.

He met gazes with a figure - several figures in masks and had tried again to pull his knife, only to realize that it wasn’t in the hidden holster on his hip where he’d always kept it, but in the fist of the figure who had woken him up.

“Where did you get this.”

“It’s MINE!”

“You are LYING. How did you acquire this blade!”

“I didn’t acquire it, it’s mine!!!”

“Kethek-“

“It’s mine!”

“Kethek!”

“It’s mine, give it back!”

“Kethek, come back to me!!”

Lance.

Kethek goes still, confused for only a minute before a bright white light floods his eyes and then blue.

Blue light. Blue eyes. Blue lion. Training deck. The training deck. Lance.

Lance is wide eyed and worried, his eyes overflowing with tears. Kethek realized then that he could feel Lance's heart pounding, somehow. Can feel somehow... that he’s feeling what Kethek feels.

Clarity sinks slowly back over his shoulders and Lance, gentle and sweet, is doing everything he can not to come to him and hold him in his arms, cup his cheek and comfort him. For him, and for himself. For appearances.

Kethek isn’t yet sure of how he knows this, considering that Lance is just sitting across from him on the training deck, looking concerned. But he knows it somehow.

Lance clears his throat, wipes at his eyes and breathes in a deep breath.

“Kethek...” he begins, breathily and with concern. “I.. I lost you there for a tic.” He says worriedly. “Are you ok?”

Kethek blinks. Blinks again.

Lance is wearing a headpiece that has several modules placed strategically at the center of his forehead and the sides of his temples.

And then... he realizes.... he’s wearing one too.

Lance’s frown deepens.

“That... uh.. that was... really scary...” He continues.

Kethek doesn’t respond.

“Kethek.” Lance urges. “What was that?”

Kethek doesn’t respond again, because in the moment he’s still not sure that he even knows… and Lance looks like he could faint with concern.

“Kethek are you sure you’re ok? I... I shouldn’t have ever agreed to this - we haven’t done much other training - it was stupid, I didn’t think - we can get you to the med bay and postpone training like this until -“

Lance is rambling and Kethek’s focus on his words dwindle for only a moment before suddenly, finally, like a jolt of electricity to his head, it hits him. All at once.

Lance and him.... walking to the training deck from one of Lance’s meetings that morning. Lance explaining paladin training to him and the work he’d started under Xanten’s supervision. The severity of the mind meld exercise. Warning him about all that could happen and giving him every assurance that he could always back out. At any time. That it wouldn’t change anything.

Kethek feels the headpiece now. Squeezing his temples gently and pressing into his forehead.

Obviously he hadn’t taken his offer.

He takes off the device, looking at it and realizes only after a moment that his hands are shaking.

He remembered with perfect clarity now.

He was supposed to show Lance the green lion. He had originally intended to recount what happened with Vex. But instead... instead something else had happened entirely.

Somehow apparently, it had taken Kethek completely into his own head and trapped him there. Into a different painful memory and that memory had been shared with Lance. Something he’d promised him he wouldn’t do. He’d promised him he would be in control. Promised him he wouldn’t hurt him. And yet, now Lance was crying. Very clearly worried sick.

Lance was suddenly standing next to him. He hadn’t realized he’d come over in the first place.

He helped him stand, looking at him worriedly.

“I’m ok, Lance.” Kethek finally manages to say. We don’t need to go to the med bay.”

“The mind meld exercise should NOT have had that result Kethek. I’m worried it’s defective and could have harmed you. They’re old and…. and they haven’t been used in… in forever and…”

Kethek stops Lance’s fussing hands with his and gently lowers them back down to his sides. He tries to look calm and comforting.

“I’m ok.” He whispers.

“Your hands are shaking.” Lance counters.

“I promise.” Kethek replies.

Lance huffs, frustrated and worried, but bites his lip and concedes, nodding his head softly and looking at Kethek with those big blue eyes of his and Kethek does his best to ignore how it makes his heart melt.

A moment more passes where Lance just looks at him. Kethek hates the overwhelming worry he has for him.

“Kethek... that wasn’t what you’d planned on showing me.” He confirms. “Was it.”

Kethek swallows... and then shakes his head.

“No.”

Lance lets out a shaky breath and puts a hand on Kethek’s arm. “And that shouldn’t have happened Kethek.” He repeats worriedly.

But Kethek ignores him, his head still swimming in a bit of confusion.

“...how much... did you see?” He asks.

“I didn’t see anything. Just felt... I felt your fear... like it was my own. I was out of breath... and... terrified.... and I was grieving... so intensely.” Lance tells him

A moment passes where Lance considers it all... moving his hand gently up and down Kethek’s arm.

“Was that... was that what you felt when... when Vex-“

Kethek shakes his head.

“This was before that...” he tells him. “Years before that.”

Somehow this makes Lance look even sadder and tears are back in his eyes in record time.

“Your parents?”

Kethek shakes his head no again.

“Stars, Kethek...“ Lance breaths. Bewildered and sad. “How much more pain have you endured?”

Lance opens his mouth again then, to say something, but closes it and shakes his head, deciding against it.

Instead Lance looks him in the eye and releases his lip from where it was held in between his teeth, shiny and bitten.

It’s distracting, if only for a moment, and Kethek is thankful for it.

“Is there anything I can do to help...?”

Kethek nods, trying to look reassuring and well collected as he meets Lance’s eyes.

“Just... be safe.” He says. “Stay strong... and come to me if you ever feel unsafe... or need help.”

Lance blinks at him, still looking sad, but Kethek knows he got the message. Knows he correctly inferred what Kethek had said.

Stay safe, and I won’t have to experience that pain again. Your loss would rival the worst of my memories.

“Ok.” Lance agreed. “Ok.”

They seemed to have gained this sort of wordless communication as of recently. A look or a simple sentence could cue them into chapters worth of intended speech left unsaid.

Kethek could feel this even more so now. After last night.

The previous night had been the most emotionally taxing one he’d had in a long time. Lance had somehow managed to get Kethek to convince himself to banish most of his most sacred personal rules. To unearth his traumas and dump them at Lance’s feet. To give them to him as a last attempt to prove to him that the love he was receiving from him was not something he deserved.

Kethek got the opposite reaction.

Empathy unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Comforting hugs and strokes of his head. Kisses to his temple, wipes of his thumbs over his cheek to catch his tears.

It was the last thing he’d expected. Instead of banishing him, fearing him, calling in the guard to remove him, or doing anything that Kethek imagined happening when telling Altean royalty that he’d withheld the location of one of the lions because of his own guilt and shame, and that he’d killed an innocent person to do it, Lance turned around and hugged him. Sympathized with him.

Explaining it was as painful as torture and Lance could see it and told him it was ok. That he trusted him regardless of whether or not he gave him an explanation.

But Kethek was determined. He was determined then, and even more so now. It was the entire reason they were here in the first place. Trying out a mind meld.

Kethek needed him to understand. And he wasn’t stopping here. He didn’t deserve his sympathy, and even now was hurting him. Just like he knew he would. And it felt like the only way to show him... exactly why Kethek was not deserving of any of the trust lance had given him... was to let him in. To show him exactly what kind of person he was.

The thought that it might work was equal parts heartbreaking and reassuring, but he had to do it. For Lance’s sake. They had to keep going

“I didn’t get to actually show you.” He says then. “I was supposed to show you- the green lion and…”

Lance shushed him, shaking his head. “I don’t care. I told you I didn’t need to see.

“But Lance-“ Kethek tried to argue.

Kethek, you literally had a memory ripped from you and it left you shaking and confused! I don’t want to put you in any circumstance that will do that again!

Kethek sighed, closing his eyes and composing himself. Being open with people was not easy for him. And getting the permission to not have to do so was an offer he had a really difficult time not to take. But he needed to do this. For himself, but most especially for Lance.

This needed to happen. And he was going to see it through.

So gently, he took Lance’s hands, grabbed hold of the headpiece, and slowly pulled it out of his grasp. Looking him firmly in the eye to convey any sort of steadiness and confidence that he could. Trying to be as reassuring as he could for Lance’s sake.

Lance bit his lip, still looking worried, but conceded nonetheless, letting out a huff of a sigh and sitting back down.

“The second I think it’s too much, I’m stopping the meld.” Lance told him, leaving no room for question.

Kethek nodded.

“This time will be different.” He promised. “I know what to expect now.”

Lance’s frown remained, but he slowly raised his arms to secure the headpiece across his forehead anyways, taking a deep breath.

Kethek did the same and Lance watched him like a hawk, looking for any hesitation. Any sights of distress.

But then, like a sleepy haze, Lance’s eyes were lulled shut. With Kethek’s headpiece in place, the meld was beginning, and Lance was pulled into it.

It was a slow start this time, Lance doing his best to stay alert. Holding his breath in anticipation for whatever would come.

It isn’t screams and panic and emotional turmoil. This time…. it’s green.

Leaves, vines, trees, roots. A kaleidoscope of greens, varying in depth and vibrancy.

It’s a forest. He’s in a forest. And it’s hot.

But then… something else. Something to fill the scenery. A figure. A Galran. A sense of warmth because of them. An aching clash of an unfamiliar setting and a familiar companion. An anxiousness to stay close to them. To keep them close.

This, Lance assumes, is Vex,

And it’s confirmed the moment he turns around.

His eyes seem to pull him in, a warm gold.

He’s smiling softly, a pinch of concern in his brow.

“You alright Kethek?”

His voice is gentle. Deep. Not harsh or gravely like other Galran lance had heard speak. It’s smooth. His features are too.

He’s young. Not visibly worn or scarred by battle. His disposition is kind. Happy.

It twists something in Lance’s gut and he’s not sure if it was Kethek or himself who had felt it. In the mind meld, sometimes it was hard to discern here your emotion stopped, and your teammates began. Sometimes they were one in the same.

“I’m alright.” He hears Kethek’s voice say in reply.

“You’re especially quiet today.” Vex says in that same gently smooth voice. “More than usual.”

He winks at him, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Vex is teasing him. And Lance’s heart flips… Kethek’s heart had flipped.

“Need me to carry you?” He teased again, grin growing bigger.”

Lance feels himself let out a puff of a laugh. Kethek’s laugh.

“I’m not gonna give you the satisfaction.” He smirked.

“Well we might be able to leave soon anyways.” Vex replied, looking back at the forestry around them.

“It doesn’t look like there’s anything here.” Plants grow too quickly. Nobody could inhabit this place unless they continually kept movin- Kethek! Your leg!”

Lance quickly looked down to where Vex had gestured, only to find that there was a vine twisting up towards his thigh. Kethek’s thigh.

He’d been standing still for too long and the vines were growing around him.

Kethek kicks out of the vines grasp and walks in circles after he's free.

Muttering curses Under his breath in annoyance. He didn’t like this planet. Didn’t trust it. Lance can feel the resent like it’s his own. “This place sucks.” Lance heard him reply. “Let’s head back to the ship.”

He looks to Vex to see him chuckle softly and nod, and Lance feels the flutters in his chest just before Kethek pulls his gaze away. They walked together. Side by side. Pulling each other out of harms way if there was any and entertaining each other with little teasing jabs.

Lance could feel contentment. The twinges of protectiveness… and what maybe felt like very very repressed affection surround him every time their eyes met. Every time their body’s touched. Lance could feel for himself that Vex had been special to Kethek. Though he, at this time, might not have been completely aware of just how much.

Among these little inklings of feelings was a much larger, more demanding sense of duty that sent anxiety pumping through him. An overpowering…. overwhelming desire to do right. To be successful in keeping the Galra from doing harm. Harm he knew Vex was able to illicit, in spite of the fact that things, for the most part up until now, had worked out for them.

The prospect of leaving the planet had offered him some relief, as did the end of any mission he and Kethek were on together, the risk of having himself discovered by the person he trusted most in his life delayed for the day once again. But it all vanished mere moments later when Vex stopped in his tracks, having approached a large mountain of vines, wall-like in its size compared to the two of them.

“Hey look at this.” Vex had told him. “It’s kinda like… a bubble.”

He crouched down a little bit, looking at the vines and smiled.

“Look! They’re growing vertically. There might be something inside of this. Like the vines are wrapping around something. It… kinda looks like we could squeeze through.”

Lance feels Kethek’s scoff in his own throat. A genuine denial that anything Vex was saying was necessary or important.

“Here we go again.” Kethek said gently. “What hidden secret have you discovered this time.”

“Hey, I’m usually right about these things. “Vex countered. Just because I was wrong one time and we chiseled through a cliff of ice for an hour and found nothing doesn’t discredit that time I figured out that there was a whole underground society on planet Crelle 53.”

Lance feels a twinge of pain in his gut at those words, flashing memories of evacuation and the sounds of the marching feet of Galran occupation that briefly flooded Kethek’s mind.

It’s gone before Lance can fully analyze it but it leaves him with inklings of context.

Vex was good at finding unexpected things. He liked adventure and discovery and was constantly looking for minor details that would cue him in on bigger discoveries. And a lot of the time he was right. Kethek teasing him now was just out of spite for the few times he’d led them astray.

“And look at this thing!” Vex continued. “It’s clearly growing around something.”

“Yeah, like a big rock.” Kethek countered and Vex rolled his eyes, taking Kethek’s hand again and pulling him along.

“Come on, just look with me.” He said. “Please?”

Kethek’s compliance came easy, in spite of the previous grief he’d given him, and then, just like that, they were pushing through the vines, swords out and cutting off the roots that grabbed at them as they passed through.

It took all of 20 ticks for them to start seeing light.

Green light. Glowing and vibrant through the vines ahead of them.

Vex had taken one last glance back at Kethek, eyes bewildered before they suddenly fell out of the vines and into a clear patch of dirt.

The entrance into a clearing had been jarring enough of an experience that they’d both had their gazes down at their feet.

But slowly, and with what Lance felt to be a heart dropping sense of disbelief and dread in Kethek, their gazes traveled up… and up… and up.

It was the green lion. Having been hidden in plain sight until now and the sight of it had left them both visibly shell shocked. Lance could not see the expression on Kethek’s face, but he knew that it mirrored the one Vex wore.

Wide eyed, jaw unhinged, utter bafflement.

It was very clear to him that neither Kethek nor Vex had expected it. Neither of them were prepared. He knew, right from that first glance... from the pounding of Kethek’s heart that he could feel in his own chest from the magic that was drawing the memory out, he knew that nothing… nothing about that day had been intentional.

Lance felt, through a sense that brushed over his consciousness, for the first time in what for Kethek had been a long time, Vex’s presence beside him was not calming, but growing to be more and more threatening.

Lance had been so engrossed in trying to understand the feeling that when Vex, very suddenly had grabbed Kethek’s arm and Lance felt the warm fingers of his hand wrap around his skin, he jumped, turning away from the lion to find Vex with an awestruck look on his face.

“Kethek that’s a lion….” he’d breathed. “That’s a lion!”

Lance held his breath feeling viscerally what Kethek had felt that day as if his thoughts and emotions were his own. For the first time in a long time, Kethek hadn’t known what facial expression to make to mask his true thoughts in front of Vex. Something Lance now understood was something he did so often that it was jarring to have the instinct to do it fall away and be left scrambling.

For the first time in a long time Kethek had been beyond words. Beyond diversions and gimmicks and games and all the other shit he’d had to keep up to conceal his identity as a spy.

He wasn’t sure what to say. How to say it. For the first time in a long time, he was truly panicking. And Lance felt it like a knife slowly being pressed into his throat. His breath caught and his eyes wide, his body frozen with uncertainty.

“Kethek, do you know what this means?!” Vex had said breathily, almost in a laugh. A smile bloomed on his face, crooked and hopeful and excited, and Lance sensed the word beautiful brush over his consciousness that seemed to come out of the blue and not something Kethek had wanted or planned to think so suddenly. Especially given the circumstances.

But understanding settled deep in Lance’s bones. Because he too had thought things of someone else without the power to stop himself. Without wanting to think them. A gut reaction upon seeing someone. For Kethek, at the time, Vex’s smile was beautiful and he thought so to such a degree, that even now it came back up.Even in this set of circumstances. Even with most all of his attention directed to how in the hell keutjrk might manage to get out of this. In spite of all of that, the thought, though brief, came to him. Uncalled for and Ernest.

It made Lance’s heart ache even more. And it no doubt was because it had done the same to Kethek all that time ago. Made him ache absolutely.

Vex’s hand moved down from where it had clasped around Kethek’s arm to his hand and he squeezed it tight when his palm rested against Kethek’s, turning to face him so he could grab the other one. “The Galra finally gave an even match with the blue lion! We can actually win!” He’d said.

The pit in Kethek’s gut grew and his heart started to pound. It was a nauseating feeling, so deep and gut wrenching that Lance was baffled by the fact that all these emotions didn’t even brush the surface of what he knew was to come.

Lance could feel that Kethek was growing more terrified. Because Vex was right. He was terrifyingly right. The rebellions one advantage in this war was the blue lion, and two Galran soldiers just stumbled upon something that would eliminate that advantage completely.

Kethek was panicked. And Lance already wanted to crack under the pressure. And he might have had this been his own memory. But Kethek was different. He was unshakeable. Or so it felt.

Vex laughed again, eyes lighting up. He dragged Kethek closer, his eyes wide with wonder.

It made him sick to his stomach, and Lance seriously wanted to cry.

Vex had been kind. Enthusiastic and playful. Lance could see that now. Feel it in his mind and his soul, because Kethek knew it. Kethek felt it adamantly. Knew him and cared about him. Vex was good. Kethek knew that with his entire soul. Vex was good, but horribly misguided. Conditioned to believe that the Galran empire and this war they were in was a noble fight. That they were bringers of peace. That they were doing good things for the universe.

All Vex had ever wanted was to do good. Kethek’s memories supplied Lance with that. Vex wanted to do good, but he also knew where his loyalties lied, and he started to understand the terrifying reality that unless Kethek could get Vex to change his mind in the next few minutes, they could not walk out of this cave together.

Lance feels all of this viscerally and it makes him feel utterly heartbroken. The tears in his eves and the pounding in his chest no longer just a reflection of Kethek’s, but of his own emotion and fear.

Lance watched through Kethek’s eyes then as Vex had approached the lion. Had inspected it’s Barrier curiously.

“It looks like it’s got some kind of shield up. We’ll probably have to call in the ship to extract it via tractor beam.” He said.

And then in the same instant he’s taking out his communicator and Kethek suddenly is moving, stepping forward so fast, without any warning that it takes Lance’s breath away. There had been no warning because Kethek hadn’t even thought to do it until he was doing it. Hadn’t known that he would have to do it until he was doing it. It was guttural and quick, and calculated, but so very dangerous. Even Vex seemed to not have seen it coming until Kethek’s hand was on his wrist and pulling the communicator away, shouting an urgent “no.”

Vex had Instantly leveled him with a sharp stare, seemingly on instinct from Kethek stopping him, But Lance watched it soften immediately when he met his eyes.

“Vex, please…” He heard Kethek plead. “Please don’t. I'm begging you.”

Vex had scowled again, concern and twinges of frustration mixing together in an expression that Kethek could barely stand to look at.

“Kethek, what are you talking about?!” Vex questioned, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Do you even know what this is?? How can you even suggest- Kethek, we have to get this back to the Galra! This is our way to beat the resistance! To redeem all the lives that the Alteans have taken from us! My mother! And yours!”

Lance feels Kethek break a little more. He feels like crumbling even further at the mention of his estranged mother. Enough to break down. But he forced himself to tighten his grip on Vex’s wrist. Focusing all of his willpower only on keeping the communicator away from him. To Lance, the ability to do so would have been near impossible. But here he is. Watching Kethek do it. With so much willpower it’s mind numbing.

Lance understands from the magic of the mind meld that Kethek had told Vex that his parents had died in the war. It had been something they’d bonded over. Vex just wasn’t aware of which side of the war his mother had died for.

“This war has left scars on both sides, Vex.” Lance hears Kethek say then. “Nobody is innocent of that. The resistance fights us because we invade the home planets of peaceful people. They are defending what’s rightfully there’s.”

“The Galran empire is strong! We share that strength with others!”

“We don’t share it Vex, we enforce it! Use it to oppress and control! Can’t you see that?!”

“Kethek…” Vex said slowly, eyes wide and brows drawn heavily over them. “You’re... you’re really scaring me. You… sound just like them.”

“Vex. Please. I’m only trying to do what’s right.” Kethek begged. “Handing this lion over to the Galra will create devastation. Countless lives would be lost.”

Vex looked flat out scared now, unbelieving of the words Kethek was speaking. “You’re what’s lost, Kethek! Where is this coming from?! Have they brainwashed you?! Are you some kind of spy?!”

Kethek swallowed. Holding back what felt to Lance like tears.

And then, another brush of information settles into his consciousness. A bit of information he is sure he is now receiving because Kethek had started to contemplate it in that moment.

It is absolutely forbidden to reveal yourself in the Blade. If your cover is blown, it is your responsibility to kill yourself so that they don’t get any information out of you, or kill anyone who heard you. And Lance knows then, with a gut churning certainty that anything Kethek tells Vex now would give something away. Vex would know and Kethek wasn’t sure he could convince him to keep his cover. In fact… from what Lance felt, he was almost sure it was impossible.

And again, for the first time, maybe ever, Kethek was starting to make sense to Lance. Slowly, with each layer peeled, Lance was beginning to truly understand him. His fear of intimacy that fought against his desperation for contact. His sense of duty and better judgement that fought against his desire to pursue a deeper relationship with Lance. Kethek was an amalgamation of opposing forces, held between desire and responsibility in a constant state of fear and self hatred. Self hatred because of what would happen after this moment.

Lance takes off the headpiece, cutting off the connection and ending the meld. He breathes deeply, fighting his tears as his own vision returns to him.

He had seen enough. He’d gotten much more than he would have ever wanted or expected to get, and he knew... he knew how painful it was for Kethek. He had felt it for himself. He didn’t want to experience the memory of what happened. He didn’t need to because he already knew the result. And he most especially didn’t want to force Kethek to relive it.

Kethek, who’s headpiece still rested on his head and whose face was so heart wrenchingly broken it hurt to look at.

“That’s enough...” Lance told him by way of explanation. “I don’t... I don’t need to see anymore.”

A moment passed, but Kethek didn’t respond. He stared off blankly, eyes red and tearful, face unchanged.

It broke Lance’s heart.

When his expression finally did change, it was to squeeze his eyes shut and let his tears fall, a gasping, stuttering breath leaving him before his hands came to cover his face.

Lance was crying too, heart aching with Kethek’s pain as well as his own. Lance could feel the agony that Kethek was undergoing. The crippling weight of grief and regret. There was no denying how deeply he was hurt. How severely this had impacted him. Lance gasped for a breath and choked out a sob of his own, unable to move for a long time, just stewing in the sensation of completely disabling loss.

And Lance hadn’t thought it possible, but as soon as Kethek spoke up, the pain got exponentially worse in less than a single tick.

His voice was shaky as he started to speak, but his words were clear.

“I have to go back.”

Lance’s heart shatters, his composure crumbles and any ability he’d had previously to keep himself from ugly crying vanishes, but he’s not taken by surprise. Not at all. Having such an intense mental link like that… experiencing everything that Kethek experienced that day… he knows he would have said the same if their roles were reversed. Kethek had to go back.

So Lance nods, blinking through jus tears and wiping his face.

“I know.”

Kethek, eyes bloodshot and bruised, looks back up to Lance.

“But I can’t leave you.”

Lance shakes his head, biting his lip, smothering more of the sobs he feels try to escape his throat.

“You wouldn’t be leaving me.” He assures. You’ll come back. But you need to do this.”

Kethek’s eyes fall shut again, visibly aching with heartbreak.

“I didn’t say goodbye. I haven’t even tried to apologize. I killed him and I left and I never… I never.”

Lance nods and finally moves closer to Kethek.

“You can now.” He tells him. “You will. And it should only be you who does it. You can tell my sister you just… found the green lion. Nobody has to go and extract it. You can make sure that it’s done right.

Kethek nods slightly, but Lance can see that the words are barely getting through to him. Too consumed in his grief.

So Lance stops talking. He just… stays with Kethek. Sits with him. Does what he can to support him and be there. He just has to be there for him, regardless of if it will calm Kethek down or not.

He lets the silence grow long. Let’s it wrap around them both and allow Kethek the space to get his breathing under control again. And only when he does… when they both do, does he speak again.

”He was really beautiful.” He tells him.

“I can tell that you loved him.”

“It’s why you... couldn’t be with me. Or kiss me... because so much of your experiences with feeling love and being loved in return are tainted by pain and guilt and fear. And so... feeling like you were starting to... have... feelings for me.... was terrifying for you. It’s not something you thought would happen, and you did everything you could to try and prevent it…”

“To protect me from you.”

But then, to his surprise, Kethek shakes his head no. He gathers every ounce of strength he has left to look him in the eyes.”

“I didn’t even realize that I might have loved him… until I knew that I loved you.”

Lance’s heart skips a beat.

“Nothing ever… in my entire life…. has ever compared to the way I feel about you.”

“But you’ve seen it for yourself now. You saw what I did… to someone who didn’t deserve any of it. You’ve seen me at my worst. And I can’t- you can’t be ok with that!”

“Kethek…” Lance tries, wanting to tell him that it wasn’t necessary for him to explain himself yet again. But he was dead set on the idea now, and all Lance could do was let the waves of it crash into him.

“I’ve done… horrible, unforgivable things… sure I’m helping the liberation of the universe from the Galra, but I had to be vile… and kill… innocent people to do so. How is that right?!”

“Vex … was good. He was a good person… He was just… misguided… and… in the end, I couldn’t… I couldn’t get through to him.”

“If it had been me… I would have done the same.” Lance says then, cutting off whatever self deprecating onslaught of words Kethek would have been sure to continue with.

“When you have your loyalties challenged in that way… when something as powerful as a lion comes between you and someone you care about… when it’s something that could mean countless deaths and untold tragedy… and when it becomes something you can give the responsibility to for his death… it makes sense why you would keep it hidden. Everything you did makes sense. None of it was because you're heartless or cruel. Everything was calculated. Nothing was done willingly. I felt it for myself just now.”

“I’m not saying that makes any of this right. Nothing about this war is right. But you did what you had to do. You knew what would happen if you didn’t.”

He takes a breath.

“Kethek, I’m not scared of you. Because I’m not any different than you. Allura isn’t any different than you. Our Altean troops and every rebellion fighter is no different than you.”

“I’ve decimated Galra camps who no doubt had fathers and mothers. Family, Kethek. I know that I’ve been personally responsible for torn apart families. For tragedy and loss and suffering. We’re fighting a war and nobody is innocent in war. None of this is ok! And yet if we do nothing, Zarkon and everyone loyal to him will continue to mercilessly kill and seek out complete control. Total power… Total obliviation of anything that isn’t loyal to him. Doesn’t look like him. Isn’t built like him. So we were forced into this terrible position. Forced to fight and attack and kill. And none of that is ok.”

Kethek looks at him. Lips pressed together and eyes wet with tears. He looks broken still, but Lance knows that he got through to him. He can see it in his eyes. Maybe not enough to successfully cure him of his self hatred, but Lance’s words had not fallen on deaf ears and that, for now, was enough.

Kethek swallowed, wiping at his eyes. He nods, only slightly and bites his lip.

“So what now…” He asks.

“Now you go back there. You do whatever you need to do to make it right in your mind. To find some healing if you can. And in the meantime, I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you… and I’ll have Xanten and any other blades you think are necessary to be at my aid. I’ll stay safe, I’ll cooperate and I’ll cover for you. We can say that the Blade needed you, just for one mission, and that it’s only temporary. So that you can go and do what you need to do.

“Do you feel safe with him? With Xanten?” Kethek asks, ever considerate.

“If you trust him, I trust him.” Lance replies. “Just… come back… ok?”

Kethek nods.

“Of course.” He promises.

“For you, I’ll always come back”

_____

From space, the planet looked just as it did when he left it all that time ago. Lush, green, humid, and most importantly, abandoned and uninhabited.

He was back in his ship, off of Altea, and on his own on a trek through space for the first time in what had felt like a lifetime. Leaving left a horribly bitter taste in his mouth, and the nauseating fear of leaving Lance behind was almost too great to stomach, but Lance was right. They both knew it.

Kethek had to do this.

He’d confronted Allura on his own, informing her of a mission he had to be in for the Blade that didn’t exist, and, unsurprisingly, she had a million questions and hounded him on so many specifics that he’d not totally been sure that she wouldn’t call his bluff.

But thankfully, she eventually relented and they made arrangements for Xanten to come while Kethek was away.

The Altean’s has shuttled him back to the moon, and he left on his ship as soon as he was able, biting back all the second guesses and concerns so that he wouldn’t turn right back around and go running to Lance’s side.

He had to do this.

He’d told them he wouldn’t need more than three quintants and he planned on sticking to that promise.

And he had confidence that he could. Going back, Kethek would know his way around with the help of the coordinates he’d logged and hung onto for all this time. He’d know what to expect, and he would be alone, with nothing other than himself and the plants to get in his way.

At least… that’s what he thought.

For the most part, he’d been right about what to expect. And certainly for the first varga or so after he’d touched down on the planet's surface a safe distance away from where he’d logged the coordinates of the green lion to be, it had all gone relatively according to his plan.

He hiked his way through the muggy forests, getting flashes of Vex’s memory as he went. Of them having traveled together in this place. Unknowing of what was to come.

It was all what he’d expected. Crippling grief, unbearable humidity, dense trees and vines… until it wasn’t.

It was almost like a dream. So sudden and so completely unexpected that his heart had jumped and his breath caught. Because one minute he was in a forest and the next he was stumbling into a clearing. But not just a clearing, free of trees and vines and roots. It was bustling with traders and merchants, packed full with booths and people meandering about.

It was a trading hub. Somehow hidden under the foliage of the trees.

The shock of it was enough to have him retreating back into the leaves he’d come through, unsure if this was a Galran occupied or hostile territory.

The more he observed, though, the more he came to assume that this hub was just that. A hub. Full of creatures of all sorts. A hub that must have come into existence within the past few years. It wasn’t uncommon for people to find uninhabited planets and develop on them if they were in a place nearby or between bigger civilizations.

The bigger question was how. How did this place exist?

It made Kethek incredibly uneasy. He and Vex had come here originally because it was uninhabitable. The plants here grew too quickly and were too strong to trust that any kind of civilization you tried to construct on its surface wouldn’t be completely overrun and destroyed by the growth in a phoebs time.

But here, inexplicably, right in front of him, was a clearing and a bustling marketplace.

It was among the last things he had expected to find on this trip and for that reason alone, his caution was high. Bottom line, this market should not be here, and he couldn't begin to explain how or why it was.

With his Blade of Marmora mask and hood securely obscuring his features, he tentatively proceeded, investigating the odd phenomena that was around him.

The people who saw him either didn’t seem to know the significance of his uniform and turned a blind eye, or considered every step he took with a narrow, cautious scrutiny.

The good thing about being an organization of spies meant that the average person, not involved in the war, would know his occupation and heritage based on his suit like those who knew of the Blade of Marmora were keenly aware. So he could go through the marketplace and observe his surroundings slowly and without and uproar.

People looked at him, skeptical and with caution, but eventually moved on.

It was a welcome change of pace.

He walked through slowly, keeping as low of a profile that he could manage as a masked, sword yielding, Blade among merchants and traders, who’s mere presence made Kethek nauseous with nerves.

There weren’t supposed to be people here. It wasn’t supposed to be possible, and it made him incredibly wary for the safety of the green lion.

With that as his motivator, he picked up his pace, staying on course through the bustling trade center until he could reach the wall of trees and vines on the other side of the clearing, finding a place less populated and slipping through with a final glance over his shoulder.

He’d landed his ship far enough away from where the green lion would be, expecting that it would be good cover in case he ran into someone. But THAT many people? He hadn’t expected it in the slightest.

He moved through the forest quicker this time, avoiding vines that tried to curl around his ankles as he pushed forwards. Keeping still would encase you in an inescapable bind of plants.

Yet another reason to be suspicious of that marketplace.

And in the very moment he’d had half a mind to get off track, turn around, and go investigate, he saw it on the horizon. The mountain of twisted vines that he knew, Irrevocably, to be where the green lion sat. The place that he had buried Vex under debris and vine.

His gut churned so violently at the sight that he felt as though he’d throw up, all thoughts of the trade center momentarily shoved to the back of his brain.

His heart was pounding at the confines of his chest and bile sat uncomfortably high in his throat.

He didn’t want to move forward. Didn’t want to return. Had him thinking of turning back.

It left him standing still for too long and he was only snapped out of his daze when he started to lose circulation in his leg.

Vines, which had wrapped around his ankles had grown so thick, so fast that Kethek had to take his blade to them and cut them off, forcing him to walk in circles as soon as he was free, his mind positively racing.

Everything about this felt wrong. The marketplace, which he was almost starting to believe was a trick of his imagination, the heat, the vines, the inability to stand still and think. The giant looming threat of his most painful memories clear on the horizon. It was all getting to him.

His breaths, shaky and shallow, alongside the frantic jolts of his heart at each flash of a memory he got, but he knew he couldn’t stay. Knew he had to push forward. Keep moving. For himself. For Vex. For the war, and for Lance. Lance. Who he had to return to no matter what.

It was that thought that pushed him forwards. Through the miles of forest that separated him from the lion.

There were more questions than there were answers, but none of that could prevent him from getting this done. He had to push forwards. Keep going.

And then, just like that, he arrived. The area familiar and yet not at all the same. The vines were an ever changing and growing system. Kethek knew that the ground he’d walked on back then was far, far beneath him now.

But what was the same was the wall of vines. The cliff-like imposing mass of thick greenery that disguised the green lion so very well.

Kethek’s heart was in his throat as he approached, body shaking and senses overflowing with grief and guilt.

Putting a hand against the wall-like, thick system of roots that encased the space around the green lion made the bile in his throat ruse even more, and it took everything in him to stay composed.

From the outside, it had looked impermeable, like a mountain. Though he knew, painfully well that it had not been. It had been Vex who discovered it. It had been Vex who dragged him by the hand into the tangle with him, smiling assuredly.

Kethek swallowed the ache and tried to brush off the feeling of tears at the back of his eyes as he remembered them moving through these same roots, remembering the way his hand had been warm around his. Feeling guilt that those thoughts now only made him think of Lance. That the only reason why he was here right now was because of Lance. That he’d not been back since it has all happened because he’d been too weak. Too selfish.

The vines and roots had been dense, creating a wall several feet thick, but it was possible to pass through it. Walk forwards, inwards through the foliage and flora that create the wall he now knows hid the green lion. He knows because it had never even crossed his mind that when he and Vex stumbled upon this place, that they’d suddenly be in its presence. Engulfed in neon hues of green. Dwarfed by its size. Awed by its power that radiated off of it.

It had created a cave. A hollow. A shell. Concealing and protecting the beast from sight. But now it was rubble. Dense and twisted around the lion's barrier.

He knew it would be safe. He knew that if he blew up the cliffs above them and the vines around them, that the lion would be unaffected. And he knew Vex would not be. It was the perfect way to bury all evidence of their discovery, and prevent any chance that it would be found by the Galra.

It was all he could do to keep Vex from calling command. It was all he could do.

Kethek wants to sob. Wants to curl up on the ground, right here, at the scene of his crime and just.... cry. He feels the ache of it build up in his chest to the point where it’s painful, but he keeps his lips drawn tight and blinks away whatever tears managed to cloud his vision.

He had to get to work. Uncover the lion himself, and construct his story of discovery to tell the Alteans.

He thinks on how to do it, observes the parts of the mountain that could potentially allow him easy ugh and safe access. But he doesn’t even have the chance to try.

Because suddenly, he gets the sense that he isn’t alone. He feels that churning in his gut. That twinge of his senses. That a tightening of his muscles.

He’s being watched and he knows it. Can hear it. Feel it. Smell it.

Kethek’s woes and grievances fall to the back of his brain and his training takes over in an instant. Laser focused and prepared.

He turns away from the mountain to survey his surroundings. Making it known that he was alert and aware of their presence.

He draws his knife in a practiced flip of his wrist and wills it to form a sword, waiting for anything. Any movement. Any noise.

It’s the barely audible snap of a twig that first catches Kethek’s ear, and he’s turning to face the direction it came from in a fraction of a tick.

He raises his blade, puts every bit of strength he has into the motion, and prepares to fight, but everything is immediately derailed when his eyes land on his stalker. Not a towering Galran soldier. Not a creature hunting its prey…

He was holding his blade against the neck of none other… than Matt Holt.

Kethek almost chokes, heart stuttering and falling still as he immediately lowers his blade and gasps, tears burning at the back of his eyes in an instant and confusion and relief consuming him so completely.

“Matt?!” He gasps, heart hammering, blinking away the fog of tears in his eyes.

But then, like a snap, like a hit to the head, like a pinch to the gut… suddenly and assuredly, he recognizes that something is off.

He blinks. Blinks again. Matt was... had been taller than this. His nose less upturned and his build less slim.

Slowly, Kethek realizes that... that this isn’t Matt at all. But that only makes his heart pound more.

It wasn’t just that the person he was looking at wasn’t Matt, but wasn’t a person at all. Their form was still, their eyes lacking shine.

Kethek holds his breath and slowly moves his hand out. But when it should have reached far enough to make contact with their shoulder, Kethek’s hand grasps at air. The image flickers, and then it’s gone.

A hologram. He knew it.

He falls completely still as he appears again to be alone. But he’s not. And he knows it. He breathes deep. Focuses himself, and yes- he can hear it. Can hear someone breathing. Can hear their heart beating.

He steadies himself, sucking in a breath, and finally he turns around. There’s a small knife at his neck before he can even think to observe the person wielding it, and when they come into view, Kethek meets the cold, deadly glare of two amber eyes.

It’s the same person from the hologram, but this one is fleshy, real, and Kethek knows, in spite of their unassuming stature, that this small person is not someone to underestimate. Their threat was real, and their capability was undoubtedly formidable.

Kethek knew who they were. There was no way it could be anyone else. The resemblance was uncanny.

Kethek lowers his weapon, moving slowly until his blade shrinks. He lets it fall to the ground and raises his hands in surrender.

It’s tense silence that follows. For several long minutes. Kethek surrenders and his assailant glares with a viciousness almost too fierce for their tiny figure.

Kethek wonders if they’ll kill him without questioning. If they’ll cut him down and leave him dead before either of them can communicate. But an attack never comes. Instead, they purse their lips, grip their knife tighter, and a fire burns in their eyes as they finally growl.

“How the hell do you know my brother.”

Chapter Text

Xanten was, in many ways, a lot like Kethek. They shared that same brooding silence, the stoic posture, the resting glare, the soft, short purple fur that covered their skin. And yet, in spite of all that, Lance couldn’t help but constantly marinate on how utterly different the two were in the most subtle of ways.

Of course there was the teensy detail of the fact that unlike Xanten, Kethek had cried in his arms and stuck his tongue down his throat and fucking melded his consciousness with him. That should be more than enough to settle Lance’s conundrum.

But it wasn’t.

Perhaps he was just curious. Kethek being the only Galra he’s ever gotten to know or been in frequent contact with left Lance impossibly intrigued about what other Galra were like. If they were like Kethek or if Kethek was different. Kethek had said himself that they were different, but Lance still had trouble imagining how.

If Lance had met Kethek during his time as a spy, he would have fit the bill of a Galran soldier perfectly. At least on the outside. Just in the way that he acted. Maybe that’s what Kethek had meant. That nothing he externalized was internalized for him like maybe other Galra did. That they were the same person inside that they displayed on the outside. Cruel. Merciless. Uncaring.

But after meeting some of the other Blade’s and knowing Kethek like he does now, maybe he just doesn’t want to believe that Kethek could be so different from the rest of his people. Maybe he wanted to see the good inside of Kethek in his fellow Galra, if for nothing else than to make his fear less intense and his hope for resolution in this war more feasible.

But Kethek was away now, healing wounds left open for far too long. Wounds that would have probably prevented him from answering any of Lance’s questions.

So that put Xanten in the position of being Lance’s one and only current comparison, which maybe would be fine, if the circumstances were different and Lance didn’t have to be by his side for so many vargas of the day. If not for that, Lance probably would have an easier time tampering his curiosity and moving on without speaking his questions, but no. Instead, Xanten, on Kethek’s orders, hovered behind him, three heads taller than Kethek, far more fluffy than Kethek, and the curiosity about those things was enough to distract him whenever they were together.

Being with Xanten made Lance think about Kethek more than being with Kethek made him think about Kethek. It was absurd. It was Inconvenient. Especially at a time like this, when he’d woken up to the most nauseating news he’d received in a while.

Lotor is back from a mission that had taken him far away to another sector and is requesting an audience with him to go over his findings.

The news had literally made him sick.

And to be perfectly clear, Lotor being Zarkon’s son had nothing to do with Lance’s particular distaste for the halfbreed.

Lance knew that Lotor detested his father, but he was still prideful of his heritage as a child of both the Altean and Galran empires, and henceforth, had taken a neutral stance in the war.

He offered no help to either side in spite of his abundance of resources that he’d acquired, and participated in anything only if it had some benefit to him.

His dealings with Lance were no different. Lotor’s alliance with the Altean’s was in large part because he held a soft spot for his mother’s people, and in large part simply because he had affection for Lance. A creepy, overbearing, boisterous affection that made Lance’s skin crawl.

But Lance, dutifully, tolerated him. Because although he didn’t offer military support or aid in the war effort in any way, he was a knowledgeable historian and scientist. His research and findings, while not inherently useful for the war, could lead to discoveries that had a million applications. Lotor was happy to impart his findings about the depths of Altean power and capability to continue his mother’s work, and even more happy to be in Lance’s vicinity, trying shamelessly to woo him into his bed.

Lance was only 90% sure that at this point Lotor was only still posturing him because he enjoyed doing it rather than it being an actual attempt at some kind of relationship, but he truly couldn’t be sure. It had gone on for so long.

But it wasn’t just because Lotor was annoying and infuriatingly neutral. It was because he was, in Lance’s mind, a creep. Lance had never, not once in his life, trusted him. There was always something hidden behind his eyes. Behind his smile. Lance had this sense about him that Lotor only ever told half truths. That there was always something brewing behind his charming smiles and antagonistic smirks.

Lotor required his focus. His sharp attention. One step out of line and Lance had to be ready to catch him. To put him back in his place. So his preoccupying thoughts about the Galran race and his terrifying growing affection for one Galran in particular was the last thing he needed today.

He needed Kethek. At his side. Reassuring and strong and safe. Xanten was too much of a bundle of unknowns and unsatisfied curiosity that was far too distracting. To no fault of Xanten. He was responsible and efficient and Lance didn’t feel unsafe with him. He just didn’t steady him. And Lance needed steady.

“I am to be on a call within the varga.” Lance tells him while they walk together out of a meeting he’d had with Allura and the Altean court. “I plan on taking one of the briefing rooms for myself to receive the call. Please secure access to the room whilst I’m in the meeting.”

Xanten nods. “Understood, your majesty.” He says. And that’s that.” Lance nods back and takes care of a few more minor tasks before making his way to one of the briefing rooms, letting himself inside.

Xanten doesn’t say anything as he takes his post outside and leaves Lance alone as he closes the door.

And then the silence hits him. The utter emptiness of the room surrounds him, and Lance’s chest suddenly feels ten times lighter.

He gasps a deep sigh.

How long has it been since he’s been anywhere outside of his room, completely alone?

It’s not much. In fact it’s technically no different from his bedroom or the safe room, but it being neither of those places just feels good. Inexplicably. And it helps. It really helps him prepare for the dreaded call he is about to take.

“Quiznack.”

He huffs another sigh and clenches his fists. Mentally preparing himself for whatever Lotor had in store for him.

He sat down at the head of the table and flicked on the screen at the front of the room, entering in the call code he had been given.

He’s an ass. He reminds himself. An ass. Everything he says that is not business related has no meaning. Don’t lose your cool. Don’t lose your quiznacking cool. He loves it when you lose your cool.

And then, just like that, Lotor appears on the screen in front of him, his grin sickeningly sweet, fangs sharp in a line of gleaming white teeth.

“My, what an honor it is to see you again, your highness. It’s been quite a while hasn’t it?” He says to him, as though he respects him. As though he’s not just here to amuse himself.

Lance frowns. Remembering vividly the last time they had been in the same place. Lotor had looked at him like a pile of meat - kissing his cheek, or the back of his hands at any moment he could.

Usually Lance was the type to bask under the attention of an attractive suitor, but Lotor’s praise left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was different.... and Lance did not trust him.

“Yes.” Lance agreed emotionlessly. “Quite some time indeed, prince Lotor. Last we spoke you were leaving for the Klavet sector to continue your research.”

“Indeed I was. I’ve discovered an abundance of information that I feel you would find quite intriguing. I’d love to meet with you to discuss it in depth. Maybe over dinner. The information requires more…. intimacy. I only trust you with it.”

Lance swallows. His hands tightening in his lap under the table.

“Whatever arrangement we agree to have will not be privy to privacy. I’m sure you’ve heard of my predicament. Safety is currently taking priority and will require that my personal guard, and potentially others, be present for the duration.”

Wow. Something good about having assassins want you dead for once. It gave him an excuse to keep an arms length from Lotor.

“Also, I am required to share any and all important information with the Queen. You know this.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of your troubles.” Lotor says, the tone of his voice betraying the pout painted on his face. Lotor could care less. His agenda was meeting conflict.

“I respect anything you feel is necessary for your safety. I couldn’t dream of being responsible for putting you in danger. You’re a jewel far too precious to have stolen.”

“As for your duty to tell the queen, it matters not what you tell her after our conversation, but my words, from my mouth, are only meant for you.”

Lotor purrs it. Practically salivating as he speaks.

“Then we’ve reached an impasse.” Lance says, his teeth clenched shut as the words leave his mouth in a rush to move away from Lotors advances.

“I believe not, your grace.” Lotor smiles. “I am willing to compromise on your behalf. We can arrange to meet in the castle lab. I remember it well from my last visit. The area for testing is small, only has one exit, and is separated from the rest of the room by glass. We can set up there so that your guards can see you the whole time without impeding on our intimate discussion.”

Lance scowls, his immediate response being confusion as to how Lotor remembered such a minor detail of his last tour of the castle. But it’s not a bad idea. Even Lance has to admit that. There is no way the guard or Allura for that matter would approve of a private meeting with an outsider. Their ability to be seen but not heard during the discussion could be a reasonable compromise.

Lance bites the inside of his cheek, still scowling before he decides to agree. Reluctantly, as always, but still in agreement.

He nods once and looks back up to Lotor on his screen.

“I will talk to my advisors for their approval, but this solution should be satisfactory. When can we expect you.”

“I can arrive on Altea around midday. It should only take me a few more Vargas to reach the atmosphere.”

“Very well.” Lance nodded. “Contact us when you arrive. I will move my schedule to accommodate you.”

Lotor smiles, gleaming and sinister. (Though maybe that’s just how Lance is choosing to see it.) “I eagerly await our reunion. It’s been far too long.”

Lance gives what he hopes looks to be an unimpressed and annoyed expression before he jumps at the chance to end the call.

“Goodbye, Lotor.” Lance says coldly.

“Goodbye, my prince.” Lotor responds, and it’s infuriating. He hangs up the call before Lotor can see the frustration begging to burst forth and contort his body from the stiff professional prince into the uncivilized man who would have cussed him out if he’d had the chance.

My prince. Quiznacking my prince. That’s what Lotor had chosen to say, knowing well that Lance was in no way his prince. Not ever. Neutral and unhelpful and disloyal, Lance was in no way his prince. But Lotor knew that. And he knew that Lance knew he knew that, so he knew that Lance knew that he meant it to imply possessiveness. That Lance was his. That he had him wrapped around his finger. That they would be tied together by the bonds of fate whether or not Lance liked it.

It made his blood boil.

He shot up out of his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a silent scream of frustration before he was pacing around the room.

If Lotor could be this infuriating over a call, he was ruefully unprepared for his visit later today.

Oh god, he only had a matter of Vargas. That was not nearly enough time.

So he thrust himself back down in his chair and heaved a deep breath, punching out a message to Xanten saying That his call was over but that he would be taking the next varga to work. To schedule and arrange and respond to everything he had not yet gotten around to.

That would help. That would give him some semblance of control before the rest of the day inevitably played out. This would work.

Burying himself in responsibility. Doing things he knew he could do well. That, though it was still stressful and still work, would be better than going back out to his duties before being able to feel less frazzled.

And it does work. Lance follows up with dignitaries, plans and delegates and informs and he does it, Undisturbed for nearly the entire varga he had set aside to do it in.

That is until he hears a knock ring through the briefing room. Cutting through the silence and rickashaying off the walls.

Lance startles, only slightly before collecting himself to answer.

“Come in.” He calls.

And if anyone were to ask, he did not startle yet again when Xanten of all people stepped through from behind the door.

“Your majesty.” He says politely in greeting.

Lance quirks a brow. It was rare for Xanten to initiate conversation with him. Almost unheard of.

“What is it, Xanten?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Xanten stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

“I apologize for my intrusion and I understand if you need the rest of this spare time to work or take a break, but I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time to speak with you.”

Lance’s confusion deepens but he nods. Because of course he nods. It's inadvisable at a time like this and he really should be focusing, but it’s Xanten. The conduit for the curiosity that has plagued his focus for the last quintant.

So he, almost on instinct, says “Of course. What is it that you need?”

“I understand that your meeting was with prince Lotor.” Xanten says. “Will he soon be visiting the castle?”

Lance nods. “Later this quintant, yes” Lance confirms, a dizzying concoction of curiosity and confusion rising in his chest. “Why do you ask.”

Xanten hesitates for only a moment at the question, his lips drawn tight in a line.

“Before I begin, I must start first by saying that you may find my questions to be personal, and they may be overstepping. If his highness at any point wishes that I do not continue, I will leave and -“

“Xanten- it’s ok. I request only that you speak your mind. I will honor your candor above all else.” Lance assures.

Xanten swallows, but nods. “Very well.” He says. “If this is the case then I need to speak with you about your involvement with Kethek.”

Lance’s stomach practically drops to the floor at Xanten’s words. He flounders, mouth opening and closing, unsure of how to respond. Unsure of how this particular rug was the one swept out from under him, leaving him to crash to the ground.

“I- what- what do you mean by my involvement? He is my guard.” Lance says, trying, with the last bit of his brain that’s not shell shocked, to stick to his story with what he knows is a facade that Xanten can probably see right through. If Xanten already has suspicions, if he’s gotten this far… (how the hell had he gotten this far) Lance has no idea what he knows. Let alone how he knows it.

“With all due respect, your majesty. I know that your relationship has progressed to be more than that.”

Lance blinks. He blinks again, brows furrowing and throat tightening. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t say anything, right? That would be really bad. He’s not even sure if he can trust Xanten. He doesn’t know what rules the Blade’s have. If Kethek could get in trouble for-

“You have feelings for him.”

Lance’s heart jumps. No scratch that, it falls out of his chest and gets trampled by a herd of angry yelmore.

“What?!”

Xanten looks at Lance with knowing golden eyes and nods, his big ears twitching uncomfortably.

“He has feelings for you too.”

Lance scowls. His heart is racing but this one takes him back a bit. Because ok sure, maybe that was true, but HE had only just found out about that. How in the hell did XANTEN know that?!

Lance opens his mouth to ask, but Xanten is speaking before he has the chance to get a word out.

“I could smell it on him when I arrived.” Xanten says, like it was a totally normal thing to say. “He scented you, did he not?”

“Scented?! Like- as in scented like smell scented?! I- didn’t even know- is that- why do you assume that he- he’s not- I didn’t even know he had-“

“Ah.” Xanten said, coming to a realization and effectively cutting off Lance’s spew of unfinished sentences.

“Of course.” He muses. “Perhaps not even Kethek himself knew he’d done it. He’s- well- his sense of smell is not as strong as the average Galra. It is not known why. He has heightened senses, as he should, just... duller. Not as intense or powerful. This and he’s on scent suppressants. He might not have been aware of exactly what he’d done.”

“I could smell his scent on you as soon as I touched down on the planet. For Kethek, he might have to be standing next to you to notice.”

“You could, s-smell him?! Galra have that?”

“Yes.” Xanten said. “Are you unfamiliar with scenting?”

“Well, no- I just- I didn’t know that it was a Galran trait. I’ve had to wear masking perfumes with dignitaries from other planets before, so I knew it was like, a thing, but- but not like, a thing for Kethek- or, or other Galra.” Lance says, stumbling over his words as he attempts to process the conversation he is currently engaged in.

“The Galra are one of few intelligent species that haven’t evolved out of a use for it. Altean’s are not such a species. As are most species in the universe.”

“So- so then what is scenting for Galra? Is it the same as the others?”

“Not completely. Every species has its differences. But in Kethek’s case- for your case. It’s a way to... stake your claim. But that’s not always the use for every situation. In a practical sense, It establishes a bond that lets others know that you trust certain individuals. Kethek scented you, I suspect, as a cementing of his relationship to you. To signal that you are under his protection and care. That you are close to him. Though I’m not sure if this was a conscious decision on Kethek’s part. He may have been driven by instinct.”

“I personally have not known Kethek to scent anyone in the entire time I’ve known him. Not even for professional or Blade related reasons. He always claimed it was too dangerous.”

“Either way though, the deed is done and it shows that, no matter his intent, you have become an important person to him.”

Lance isn’t sure what to say. How the hell is he supposed to know what to say. His head is spinning and Xanten just said that Kethek may or may not have decided to- what- stake his claim over him and cement their relationship? When he’d previously and repeatedly refused to do so in the past even in platonic circumstances?!

“All that being said, the reason I tell you all of this is because I must urge you to be cautious. This- bond you have formed is a dangerous one. For more reasons than you're fully aware. I clearly have no more power to stop what is happening between the two of you anymore. Now all I can do is advise. The Galra will take advantage of your bond if they know of it. It is a weakness and it leaves you vulnerable.”

“If it is not already clear, know that I do not approve. But I know a lost cause when I encounter one. It is my duty to you to not let this harm you, and I will do so. Now before Lotor arrives, you need to bathe, thoroughly, at least three times to ensure the full removal of his scent. Lotor will be able to smell it. Any Galra will. Half Breed or no. If Lotor knows, he will have power over you. He could well use the information to get what he wants.”

Lance’s eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh, quiznack.” He breaths, all the anxiety that he’d pushed into the recesses of his brain with work and efficiency coming back full force, all at once.

“But- but I can’t smell anything- how do I- how do I know that it’s gone if I can’t-“

“Three thorough washes.” Xanten tells him, cutting him off. “I will escort you to your room now to allow you enough time to be certain.”

Lance nods and stands up, momentarily forgetting that his compliance is admittance. Admittance that he was, in fact, in a relationship with Kethek that was more than just him being his guard. Xanten had made him prove it. And now there was no doubt.

He freezes then, the realization fully hitting him, and he looks to Xanten’s stony face, wide eyed and worried.

“Xanten- I- please don’t take Kethek away from me. Please don’t- remove him from this mission because he’s. Too involved or punish him or… something. I can’t- I- I pushed him. He resisted me, several times. Told me no, several times, and I kept pushing him. It’s my fault- he’s done nothing but-“

“Your highness.” Xanten says. “I do not have the authority to do any such thing. I am under orders to protect you. Nothing more. I will do nothing that you do not wish of me so long as it doesn’t conflict with your safety.”

Lance bites his lip, staring up at Xanten with uncertainty still bubbling inside of him.”

“The queen can’t know.” Lance says eventually, the thought coming to him like a pinch to the gut. Oh- ancestors, please, you must keep this from her.”

Xanten’s brows pinch. It’s the first bit of emotion that he’s expressed during this entire conversation.

“I am to be loyal to the queen same as I am to you. I can not lie to her. If she were to ask me, I am required to tell the truth.”

There’s a beat of silence then as Lance’s heart sinks, but xanten speaks up again. Tentatively.

“However, so long as she doesn’t ask, I am under no obligation to tell her. So long as she doesn’t ask,”

Lance let’s the words process and relief swoops from his chest down to his feet.

“Xanten- I-“

“I am not comfortable with this.” Xanten says, sternness edging into his steady voice. “I am not here to keep secrets. This- relationship you’ve developed is dangerous. It puts everyone at risk. And if I had the authority to do so, I’d end it before it could grow any further. But I do not. All I can do is tell you that this puts you in danger. It puts Kethek in danger. It is foolish and irresponsible and I am beyond disbelief that either of you let this happen.”

The pit in Lance’s stomach grows. It aches and it tugs. Not because Lance is hurt. It’s because Xanten is right. He knew he was right. The whole time. And yet- Lance did it anyway. Pushed anyway. And if he could do it over, he knows he would push again. He knows how little he would be able to do to stop himself from ending up here again and again. But Xanten wouldn’t accept that. Wouldn’t understand that. And he had every right not to.

He swallows, keeping his head high and his back straight, because he is still the prince, and this is still his guard. But he can’t suppress the hurt and anger in his face.

Xanten seems to remember his place at the same time Lance does and he straightens out just before bending over and lowering himself to his knee.

“I have overstepped.” He speaks, bowing his head with respect. “I have meant no disrespect to you my prince. I was overtaken with my frustration. Please accept my apology. I will send word to the Blade of need for my replacement.”

Lance blinks, this chaos of the last few vargas sweeping him up in a frenzy and dropping him down to this moment, Xanten knelt at his feet and begging forgiveness for speaking- well- the truth.

He comes back to himself. Composes himself, and shakes his head.

“Please stand, Xanten. There is no need for you to be replaced. I respect your candor, as I said. You…. are not wrong. You are only doing your job. You have not overstepped.”

Xanten stands, face unchanged but posture less aggressive. He bows his head.

“I will escort you to your room as soon as you are ready.”

Lance nods. Moving on. Xanten has officially closed the gates on this conversation and was pushing forward respectfully.

Lance appreciated that.

He moved momentarily back to the table to pick up the tablet he had come in with before coming back to stand at the ready next to the Galran.

“We may leave now.” He confirms. And Xanten nods, opening the door for him on their way out of the room.

The walk back is complete silence. Just as it always is. But now it’s loud. It’s ringing and uncomfortable.

Because Xanten knows. Xanten is right. They’re less of an arms length between them now, but then again maybe there never was. Maybe Lance had always perceived Xanten as being far less aware than he ever actually was.

It makes Lance nautious to think about.

They arrive and Lance steps into his room without another word. Enough has been said already and Lance knows that Xanten would appreciate him going right in and washing up as soon as possible more than he’d appreciate more sorry attempts at apologies and excuses that he didn’t really and truly mean.

When he’s alone again, his hands find his face. Overwhelmed, completely, with the events of the past several Vargas.

He hurries then, to prepare for a shower. Remembering that Lotor was coming today. Remembering Xanten’s warning words. Remembering Kethek. Gentle like a blazing fire as he kissed him. As his hands roamed freely. Touching and holding and caressing. Kethek’s reverent words, and the resulting breakdown.

Lance thrusts his crown off his head. Pulls out his earrings. Throws his necklaces into a tangle on his vanity. He shucks off his suit jacket and stumbles to the bathroom, all but racing to get under the stream of water as soon as he possibly could.

And yet, after rushing. After barreling through the process, he hesitates. Again. Standing bare at the threshold of the shower with one foot in and the other planted outside on the tile.

Because he hates this. Oh my god he hates this.

Kethek had, in some way so subtle Lance didn’t even know, risked it all for that moment when they finally kissed. He’d given him, whether or not it was intentional, a gift so precious and pure that it literally made Lance’s heart ache. A gift that, in normal, galran contexts, would have put him forward, unequivocally, as Lance’s. He’d resigned himself to that. Willingly. He’d given himself to Lance. All of himself. Entrusted him. And now Lance had to rush to scrub himself of that evidence. Of Kethek. For someone as meaningless as Lotor.

It sat like a rock in Lance’s stomach. The cons far outweighed the pros and Lance knew that, but the thought still made him pause, if only for a moment, at the showers entrance.

Lance used his strongest scented soaps and scrubbed firmly over every inch of his skin, the rock sinking deeper and deeper.

When it was done, he, stupidly, felt as though he was missing something. Because of course nothing physically had actually changed. But Lance felt hollow. The distance currently between him and Kethek settled into his bones, making them ache. He was more aware of it, more desperate to have him back by his side than he had been the entire time he’d been gone. And it hadn’t even been that long.

Lance was delusional and making things up that weren’t really real, but the feelings that resulted were real. That was plain as day. And he resented everything that put him in this situation. Everything that enabled him to feel this way.

The war, Lotor, his position of royalty. It all tasted bitter in his mouth as he stepped out of his room once more without Kethek there to escort him. Without Kethek’s touches lingering on his skin.

He felt, irrationally, farther away from Kethek than he ever had in the beginning, when they’d been at each other's throats.

It was absurd.

But unlike many of the other absurdities on his mind this quintant, this one, he didn’t have the heart to dismiss.

______

Two things became very apparent, very quickly to Kethek.

One, he was tied to a tree.

He technically could have fought it and avoided the predicament he was in now, but hurting who he now knew for certain to be Matt’s sibling was not an option.

So he let them restrain him.

The second thing that was very apparent was that somehow- they were controlling how fast the plants grew.

After this long of a time being in one place, he would have surely been cocooned by the plant growth, but they had only yet wrapped around his ankles.

And as for his capture, they had been standing in one solitary place for several doboshes now and hadn’t had to so much as stomp a creeping vine away.

“I asked you a question, Galra.” His captor suddenly speaks again, bringing him out of his thoughts. “And I suggest you answer, because I have a plethora of much more unpleasant ways to get the answer out of you.”

Kethek sighed at the derogatory spit of the word Galra, but ignored it for the both of their sakes.

Instead, he swallowed, mentally preparing for the fact that he would have to break one of his most sacred rules. Again. Here, on this god forsaken planet.

In this circumstance though, if it hadn’t been on this abandoned planet with a person he knew would not side with the Galra ever, breaking that rule was not a risk, but his only way out of this. He needed to gain this humans trust, or suffer, as they themselves put it, far more unpleasant consequences.

So he holds his breath and meets their fiery gaze, struck yet again by the resemblance in a way that was unexpected and painful.

“I was stationed as a spy on commander Sendak’s ship when your brother and his crew were abducted. I am with the Blade of Marmora. A group of Galran rebels committed to the downfall of the empire. That’s how I met your brother and the other Earthlings. I was in command of their block of cells.”

“That’s quite the beautiful lie you’ve concocted.” His captor spits. Not an ounce of belief in their voice.

“If you don’t believe me, Take the fact that I know his name as all the evidence you need. Ask any Galran officer on any ship in any quadrant and they will only know their prisoners by their ID number. It would be considered weak and might have cost me my rank if anyone had known I’d learned their names.”

“So then what are their names? All of them? Their full names.” They questioned seriously.

Kethek swallowed, his heart skipping wildly for just a moment before he composed himself.

“Let me clarify...” he said slowly. “I only met two of them. The ones who could fight were separated right from the beginning to be held in the gladiator cells, so at first, I had only met Matt’s father, Samuel Holt. He pleaded with me to do what I could to rescue his son and the others from the ring. That is how I began talking to him.”

“I sent word to my superiors to see if it was in fact plausible to have him rescued. Usually the answer would be no. But I overheard that he was going to be taken to a prison built specifically for scientists and engineers. They might have gotten rid of him if he’d had no use, but the empire needed his brain. The prisoners who go to this facility are forced to develop weaponry and technology for the empire.”

“Knowing this, I now had a bargaining chip. If he was of use to the Galra, he could be of use to the rebellion, and his rescue could be warranted. If nothing else, just to keep him out of Galran hands.”

“But the plan we had been preparing to remove him from captivity fell apart completely when Matt was moved to my block of cells. He’d been injured by one of the other members of his crew so that he wouldn’t have to fight in the ring. I’d spoken with him when he arrived and offered him some discreet medical aid. He told me about Earth. About you.”

Kethek finally looked up to his captor again and saw that their face was blank. Intentionally so, not wanting to risk showing vulnerable emotion to someone they still weren’t sure they trusted.

“Are you Katie?” He finally asked them, already knowing the answer.

But the response he got was not one he expected.

“I’m Pidge.” They said. “Only my family can call me Katie. You call me Pidge.”

Kethek nodded, resisting the urge to celebrate his little victory. Pidge telling him their name was them showing him trust. At least a small sliver of it. And that was a win.

Pidge cleared their throat and swallowed, trying to hide the fact that they were getting emotional. “So what happened to them.”They asked, voice carefully steady.

“One of their crew from the gladiators tried to escape.” Kethek told her. “It threw off our plans completely. When they were all caught, the Galra moved their plans up and sent Sam off to the other prison as soon as he was captured. Your brother was taken somewhere too, but it happened so fast, that I don’t have any idea where.”

Pidge narrows their eyes, suddenly looking like they were suspicious of something.

“And what happened to the other two crew
Members? The ones who tried to escape?” Pidge asks.

Kethek swallows, feeling knots form in his stomach.

“They were killed.” He tells them.

Pidge’s face falls, but only slightly. It’s overrun by a sharpness in their gaze. Gears turning visibly in their head as they looked at him.

“They can’t be dead.” They say then, their words punched out in a way that alluded to more emotion than they were letting their expression show.

“I didn’t come all the way out here for them to be fucking-“ Pidge bites their lip, cutting off their words and sucking in a breath.

They turn away from Kethek for the first time since restraining him and Kethek yet again sees it as them beginning to trust and believe him. You don’t turn your back on someone who you suspect wants to do you harm.

Suddenly, the restraints that were keeping him tied to the tree unravel and Kethek blinks down at his bare wrists. And then he notices his ankles, the vines that were beginning to crawl up his shins fall away and disappear amidst the greenery beneath him.

“I still don’t trust you.” Pidge voiced over their shoulder, still not looking at him. “But I know you.... aren’t lying. And I know you aren’t here to hurt me.”

“I’m not.” Kethek confirms.

“So that brings me to my next question.” Pidge says then, turning back around.

“Why are you here? What is a member of the Blade doing on an inhospitable planet, alone.”

“I was going to ask the same thing of the young human from Earth alone on what should be a deserted planet, unharmed by its ecosystem in the slightest.” Kethek says back.

Pidge narrows their eyes in confusion.

“What?”

“I haven't been to this planet in at least 4 decaphoebs.” Kethek says by way of explanation. “A planet that is supposed to be uninhabitable. I come back and not only do I find it being lived on, but another person here, in the middle of the forest, alone.”

“Oh- you mean the market.” Pidge concludes, understanding. “That’s a hologram.”

Kethek scowls. “A what?”

“A hologram. You may have been to this planet four quintants ago, but I’ve been traversing this quadrant of space for nearly two, in which time I saw a lot more traffic to this planet than was comfortable. I came down to see what the fuss was about and saw that Galra were using it as a burial ground. But for people who were still alive.”

Kethek’s gut sinks.

“I’m not a part of any resistance, but this crossed a moral threshold. They were being discrete though, so I knew they’d be easily spooked. I set up holograms all over the surface of the planet. Once they thought that people had found a way to live on this planet, they left it alone. Too messy of an operation now.”

“Wait, so that market wasn’t real?”

“It’s about as close to real as your gonna get.” Pidge said, crossing their arms. “I developed the tech myself.”

“You not being scared away was the first thing that tipped me off that you might be different, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“You saw me come in?”

Pidge nods.

“I’ve got this whole place rigged.”

Kethek furrows his brow. The question of why filling his head. He’s not sure that he’ll get the answer if he just asks, though. As much as it seemed like Pidge was being an open book, Kethek knew a wall when he saw one. Pidge was not telling him everything. Kethek would probably have to do a little more pushing before he got some semblance of an answer.

“Well I guess I can thank the fact that you let me go easy to you not being an Altean.” Kethek sighed, temporarily ignoring his questions to say something that he hoped would warrant a reaction. If Pidge was here for the reason he suspected, it would definitely turn some heads.

“I’m glad I was able to earn your trust so quickly. They’re not a people that I’ve been so lucky with.”

“Wait-Altean?” Pidge asked. “What, do you have some kind of personal experience with them?”

Kethek resists the urge to smile.

Interest peaked.

“What does that matter to you?” He asked and Pidge immediately schools the small look of intrigue on their face into one thats more emotionless.

In the silence while Pidge looks for an answer though, Kethek speaks up again. His spy training kicking in full force. Discrete Interrogation and getting answers. It’s what he was good at.

“Why are you still hanging around this planet.” Kethek asks. “That’s what doesn’t make sense to me. You accomplished what you set out to, so why are you still here. And why aren’t you affected by the plants? They haven’t so much as touched you since you tied me up.”

And maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but there is something satisfying about Pidge drawing their knife on him again. Because it meant that he was right.

Pidge holds out their weapon at arms length. It doesn’t exactly look like they didn’t know how to use it to do some damage, but their arm was shaking just a bit. Kethek had them right where he wanted them.

“You found it, didn’t you.” He says, his voice lowering.

“Found what.” Pidge asks, surely knowing it was useless at this point to play dumb but doing it anyways.

Kethek doesn’t respond, he just levels them with a glare. But he doesn’t put a hand on any of his weapons. He stands still. Waiting for them to make a move.

And god, they really did look like Matt, and they really were so young. The fact that they had managed to find a way out here, from Earth, all on their own spoke miles about their capability. Kethek wasn’t about to question that. He just had to move precisely here. He had to be cautious.

“I’m not afraid to fight.” Pidge finally says. “You might think I’m weak but you have no idea what I can do to you if you try to interfere. I’m willing to put my life on the line.”

“So am I.” Kethek replies, but it doesn’t have the reassuring effect that he’d hoped for. Pidge does not take it as him assuring her that he will protect the lion too, they take it as a threat. A taunt.

They bristle and hold their knife tighter. “So you are one of them. Galra scum. You lied about Matt, you lied about my father....! You’re a scout who was lucky to have been stationed in the ship that captured them and concocted a story to trick me into trusting you. Well it’s not happening. I’ll die before I let you take it to them!”

Kethek quickly puts his hands up and shakes his head.

“That’s not what I meant at all, I’m not- everything I told you was completely true.”

“You better convince me of that in the next minute or I’m going to tear you to shreds, you got that?!”

“I’m in alliance with the Altean kingdom. I work for the prince as his bodyguard. It’s a mission that was given to me by the Blade of Marmora. I’m here on his behalf. I found.... it... when I first came here. I’ve known it’s been here for the past four years. But I couldn’t risk it’s extraction before. Now that I have the Altean’s trust, though, I can have their assistance in extracting the lion, and their defense if we get attacked.”

Pidge blinks at him, visibly not having expected that explanation, and looking like, maybe, they believed him. At least Kethek hoped so. If he was right, they would understand his dilemma because it was probably exactly what they were going through right now. They had made the discovery, and now they were stuck, unsure of how to safely get it where it belonged without risking confrontation with the Galra.

And then Kethek made another realization. He looked down to Pidge’s feet, and then his own. The plants had started, very slowly to crawl up his legs again, and still, there was absolutely nothing clinging to their ankles.

Kethek’s eyes widen as the realization hits him.

“You’re the Paladin....” he realizes. “You’re the green Paladin.”

“I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.” Pidge defends, still not willing to back down just yet.

“It’s why the plants don’t affect you! The plants are controlled by- its keeping itself hidden! Protecting itself! And you!”

Pidge’s face doesn’t change, but Kethek can see submission in their eyes. The barest Inklings of trust.

Then, with a shaky huff, Pidge thrusts their arms down at their side, lowering their weapon and glaring at Kethek cautiously.

“You’re a member of the Blade.” They confirm.

Kethek nods.

“You’re the personal guard of the Altean prince. The Blue Paladin.

Kethek nods again.

And then, with a sigh, “and you’re too dumb to have any way of figuring all this out without intimate knowledge of the lions, and you could only have gotten that- if your story was actually true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kethek scowls.

“It means that you’re telling the truth. You have to be. There was no way you could have-“ Pidge stops and sighs, in what Kethek interprets as both frustration and relief.”

“I guess I should be happy.” They tell him. “This means that I can stop- I can get it where it belongs.”

“But if you’re the Green Paladin, why not just- fly it out yourself?”

“Because I can’t risk being captured.” They say firmly.

“I’ve been searching for my family for so long. I’ve fought and hacked my way into every database I possibly could to try and find them and I... I feel like I’m close. I’m so close. They are more important than anything. But then, of course. I stumble into... it... and everything falls out of place. Messes up all my plans. Because now, if I get found out, I’ve got a target on my back. And worse, they could hurt my family. Anything I do, I risk their safety and mine. And I can’t do that.”

Kethek nods, knowing all too well what that dilemma felt like.

“Does that mean that you won’t be a Paladin if we return it to the Altean’s?”

Pidge scowls, crossing their arms.

“I don’t know what it means.” They tell him. “I just want to get off this goddamn planet. I want to be done worrying myself sick about protecting it.”

Kethek bristles at the implication but bites his tongue. The fact that Pidge might give up being a Paladin to continue on their mission to find their family alone seemed foolish. Something he was well aware Pidge was not. Maybe... just in the circumstance of their father and brother. Where emotion could conflict with logic. But they weren’t stupid. And Kethek had hope yet of being able to persuade them. So he bit down his protests and nodded instead.

One step at a time.

Getting out of this hell hole? That they could do.

This had not been his original plan, but it was important. And most of all, It was yet another debt he could try and repay. For Matt.

So he holds out his hand to Pidge and gives them a nod.

“My name is Kethek.”

Pidge scowls, their eyes narrowing, but takes Kethek’s hand anyways.

“Pidge. I hope I don’t regret trusting you.”

Kethek doesn’t respond. Instead he pulls out the communicator that the Altean’s has given him to contact them when he found the lion, the device smooth and white, like every other piece of Altean technology.

“Wait- what are you doing, is that a communicator?” Pidge asks in a rush, holding out a hand to halt him from using it.

“It’s a direct line to the Altean castle. They’re standing by.”

Pidge scoffs, incredulous. “You seriously had that on you the whole time and didn’t pull it out until now? When you could have used it to prove to me that you were telling the truth?”

“You would have trusted my story. Kethek explains. Not me. If we’re going to get- it- out of here, there couldn’t have been any mistrust. It will listen to you. It will protect you. I couldn’t have still been a potential threat in your mind if this was going to work.”

Pidge hums, crossing their arms.

“Alright then, contact them.”

”We’ll, also… the Altean’s don’t exactly know why I’m here. I’d been keeping the lion a secret. Even from them. I wanted to be sure of my story before I contacted them.”

Pidge scoffs. “I think you’ll manage well enough. You got this far… that must mean you have a talent for acting.”

Kethek’s gut twists. They aren’t exactly wrong, but the whole situation makes him uncomfortable.

But he shakes it off. It had to happen at some time. And now it could also help him gain Pidge’s trust.

So he shakes off his discomfort and turns on the communicator, preparing his voice. Preparing to be convincing. “Kethek to castle.” He begins. “I… I found something I can’t quite believe...”

A moment passes, and then, a voice. “Castle yo Kethek: Please clarify. What have you found.”

“I think… I think I’ve found a lion… the green lion…” he tried to make himself should shocked. Shocked but not too shocked. And it makes Pidge scoff.

There’s more silence. Longer this time, and Kethek’s stomach churns more, made worse with Pidge’s scrutinizing stare.

The next voice that comes over the communicator he recognizes. It’s Allura, and it does nothing to help with the nerves that are settling into his stomach.

“Kethek, if this is a false lead, I don’t have to remind you of the consequences.” She says coldly her voice only holding twinges of the panic and urgency that he knows this news must make her feel.

“The consequences are very clear, my Queen.” Keithek Althea says, still playing up his act. “But this is very real. And if we want to keep the lion out of galran hands, we need an extraction.

A moment passes, and then: “Castle to Kethek: We have incoming to the castle that will delay an extraction team only momentarily. Are you able to stand by?”

Kethek scowled. Who was coming to the castle? He hadn’t been briefed in any arrivals before he left.

“Kethek to castle: who is incoming?” He asked.

“Prince Lotor.” Allura voice responds. And Pidge’s eyes fly wide.

“No.” They say immediately, throwing their fists to their sides. “No- no, nuh uh, I am NOT going anywhere that Lotor is going to be.”

Kethek scowls. “You know him?”

“He’s the most manipulative, untrustworthy, shifty person I’ve ever come in contact with. He can’t know about the green lion. Absolutely not.”

Kethek blinks, considering Pidge’s apprehension.

He has not ever met the son of Zarkon personally, but he’s most certainly heard tails. The heroics and altruism boasted under a banner of neutrality.

He had been successful in separating himself from his father. The two were notoriously known as bitter combatants. To the Galra loyal to Zarkon, Lotor was a shameful halfbreed. A banished prince. To the rebellion he was a loose cannon. Helpful until he decided not to be. Self interested.

What was unique about him though was that he’d garnered an enthusiastic following from those who didn’t put themselves in either category of Galran or rebel. He had managed to unite a diverse collection of different species to support him. And it was that world that he usually chose to stay in. The one where he was worshiped and beloved. The interest of ending the war was not an interest he possessed, and that had always rubbed Kethek the wrong way.

But still, he’d never interacted with the man and therefore had no opinions of his own to put towards the situation at hand.

But Pidge’s reaction had been vile. Disgusted. Firm. And in the interest of keeping them as an ally, Kethek, reluctantly, agreed.

This would delay his plans. This would keep him off Altea for longer than expected. Away from Lance.

He trusted Xanten to keep him safe, but the idea of being away for longer than he’d intended was enough to have his stomach churn.

Nevertheless though, he moved on. He had no choice if the green lion was to return.

“Negative, Castle. Kethek eventually says. “No outside visitors can be present when we return.” You suggest we wait to extract a lion of Voltron?!” Allura’s voice comes through again. “If the son of Zarkon will be planet-side, absolutely.” Kethek says firmly. The entire castle needs to be on lockdown. No news of this finding can be risked. Certainly not to the prince. As head of security, For prince Lance’s safety, and for the security of the altean war effort, I do not permit it.”

Another, even longer beat of silence passed before Allura’s bitter voice sounded again. “We will delay extraction until he is gone. You must stay with the ship at all costs and I expect updates every varga.” She amends.

“How long is he staying.” Keithek asks.

“He is scheduled to be off planet next quintant.”

Kethek looks to Pidge. And Pidge, still scowling gives him a nod.

Kethek turns back to the communicator.

“Kethek to castle. I will remain here until contacted after his departure.”

“Understood.” An Altean replies. And then the line goes dead.

Kethek looks back to Pidge and presses his lips into a thin line.

“It looks like we’re going to be here a little longer than anticipated.” He tells them.

Pidge nods. “If it keeps Lotor out of it, it’s worth it.”

“What exactly happened that makes you not trust him so much. He’s neutral in the war. Hasn’t been aggressive against the rebellion.”

“I’ve had enough of storytelling for one day.” Pidge says, refusing him an answer and moving on to a new topic as quickly as possible.

“If we’re staying here the night, we better take shelter. I know a way Into the… ship. But we should gather up some food first. There are some non poisonous fruit trees just a little north of here.”

Kethek itches with the annoyance of an unanswered question but nods in compliance anyways.

“Ok.” He tells them. “What about this planet's orbit, how long do we have until it’s dark.”

Pidge pulls up a holographic screen from a bracelet on their wrist and swipes around for what Kethek assumes will be the answer to his question.

“The days here are about equal to 20 hours where I’m from. Which- if converted to Altean time measurements- is about 16 Vargas.” They tell him.
“We’re at the tale end of that which means we lose
Starlight in 3 Vargas, based on my tracking of this planet's cycle. I could be off by a bit, but not enough to impede on us in any significant way.”

Kethek nods.

“Then you go and collect the food. I’ll stay here and keep watch.”

Pidge frowns.

“And what makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

Kethek wants to groan out in annoyance, but he keeps his lips drawn tight.

Pidge has blatantly expressed to him that they know he’s telling the truth and they still hesitate to trust him At every turn.

He supposed he should respect their thoroughness, but he just finds it exhausting. Maybe that’s what people feel about him. Because he was absolutely no different. He was perhaps even more insufferable when it came to trusting people.

But he pushes all that aside to focus on the main issue at hand.

“The terrain on this planet is different every day. You, having spent more time here recently, know it better than I do and can more efficiently get what we need before nightfall. I, being a trained fighter, can be put to use defending the ship from anyone who might find it or maybe even followed me here. I simply chose the roles we were currently best suited for. Your insistence to find an ulterior motive in my decisions will not make an ulterior motive appear. However if you’d like to risk fighting the Galra, risking your life and the lives of your family in my stead with that little kitchen knife of yours while I go gather sustenance, then by all means, let’s trade tasks.”

Pidge crossed their arms with indignance but raised an eyebrow that looked…. impressed? Not quite, but certainly unexpected. They huffed out a resigned sigh only moments after though, and their face dropped back into neutrality.

“Fine. Take the easy job.” They tell him. “I’ll be back in a half hour. That’s- about a varga.”

Kethek nods and Pidge turns to go, quickly disappearing into the thick forest behind him.

And he waits. He doesn’t move immediately. Doesn’t move until it seems like it’s been a long enough time for him to do a perimeter check.

He acts exactly in the way he specified to Pidge that he would. With no ulterior motive.

But of course that motive was the soul reason he was here, wasn’t it.

So he dawdled, torn two ways by hesitancy and urgency. Because this was his chance. Possibly his only chance now. But it was terrifying all the same. His heart pounded harder at every thought of actually going through with it. Paying his dues. Saying goodbye.

Because deep down he was adamant that he didn’t deserve this chance. That anything he did or said would be meaningless when held up against the severity of his actions.

Kethek lets out a tiny, unnoticeable huff of air, his nerves rising ever higher in his throat. Right along with his determination to keep this to himself. Keep this between him and Vex only.

He knows he won’t find a body. That would be unrealistic. By now it’s buried under thick masses of vines and foliage that have bound themselves too tightly for Kethek to have any hope of seeing even the mere shape of his figure.

But Kethek knows exactly where he will be, under the ground. He knows precisely where in the green lions cavern he set off the explosive. Right where the cliff side that the thick trunks of fine built themselves against crumbled and crashed down beside the lion. It will be as much of a grave as any. And he will recognize it the instant he enters the cavern.

He’s not ready. Or that’s what he tells himself. Desperate to believe it so that maybe he can convince himself somehow to stay away.

But it’s impossible. Tonight he’ll enter that cavern with Pidge to take shelter in the lion and he can’t have the first time he enters be with Pidge. There’s no promise he won’t break down. Won’t expose his dilemma to Pidge and that can’t happen. It can’t.

He had to do it now. Right now. Or miss the opportunity altogether.

And he can’t do that. Not for himself. Not for Lance.

So it’s on that impulse that he makes his first steps towards where Kethek knows he can wiggle his way through the cluster of vines. The same entryway that Vex had discovered. That he had taken him through, warm hand around his wrist, smile bright.

He stands before the entry, eyes burning at the memory, now more vivid than ever after the mind meld. Clear and sharp and gutting.

Like a blade to the stomach. Worse than that.

His true state of distress comes on an inhale. Shaky and choked. Unexpectedly vulnerable.

He tightens his hands into fists, but the next breath is the same. And the next. And the next.

He’s crumbling all over again. And why the hell did he ever entertain the idea that he might have been able to maintain his composure at all. That made it feel even worse now. Even more jagged. More painful.

He holds his breath to stop himself from producing another shaky breath and pushed through the first layer of foliage that hid the structure of twisted tree trunks and vines underneath, forcing himself to keep moving in spite of the heat he swears he can actually feel tightening around his wrist. The sound of Vex’s voice ringing too loud in his ears.

The path is longer now. Thicker by just enough to be noticeable, the growth having extended out further since the last time he’d been here. But the vines don’t cling to his ankles as he passes through this time. They remain still as he moves forward, the lion now wrongfully bestowing him with trust.

Maybe this time it knows of his bond with the red lion somehow. Maybe somehow it isn’t just Pidge’s acceptance of him that earned him the lion's trust. But it’s all besides the point. All ideas he doesn’t have the current capacity to explore in totality now that the darkness around him is slowly beginning to glow green. Not while the phantom grip on his wrist grows tighter.

His eyes are closed when he breaks through to the clearing. Because he is terrified. Because his head is spinning. Because he knows tears would gather in them if nothing blocked their path into his line of sight.

He stands there, eyes closed, heart thrashing, hands sweating, body shaking, for what feels like hours before he gathers enough gall to blink them open. Clear the tears from his eyes before they even settle into his waterline.

His eyes sting with green light. Focusing first on the giant mechanical paws of the beast. Gleaming too bright behind the force field that separates him from it.

And then, on an instinct so baseline that he has absolutely no power of thought to stop before it happens, he flicks his eyes directly to the right of the lion, finding a mound that wasn’t there before. The rocks he’d made fall are buried halfway into the ground now and covered in foliage. It looks like a hill where before it had been almost a mountain. Dwarfed in comparison to the lion's grandeur but sizable just the same.

Kethek can literally imagine just how far down Vex rests. Just how deep this planet has consumed and hidden what he had done. The lion had wrapped and cradled him in her vines. Sinking him below the surface to a safety of plants and rock that hid him from the world.

A grave.

And there were flowers. Tiny white things that bloomed from parts of the greenery. Speckling the surface in a solemn, heartbreakingly beautiful way. Or at least that’s how Kethek reads it.

He was on his knees now, forgetful of just when he’d dropped onto them. Those tears he thought he’d had a chance to hide pooling into the fabric of his lap. Soaking his cheeks with a sheen too blatant to bother hiding now.

Vex was an imperial soldier. Vex would have turned the lion over to the Galra without blinking twice. He would have rejoiced in the devastation and destruction it would have brought to the lives of countless innocent people.

Kethek had done what he’d had to do. In a moment of desperation to protect those innocent lives. To protect the universe from a chance at enslavement and total Galran domination. But Vex didn’t deserve an end by the hand of a trusted ally. He didn’t deserve the silent, forgetful, unmourned passing he received. It shouldn’t have been Kethek. It shouldn’t have been so easy to eliminate the threat.

The only reason it was was because Vex had trusted him. Would have never imagined the end he received. And it absolutely broke Kethek. To his core. He shattered. He sobbed. He gasped and ached and grunted with strained screams of grief, the words “I’m sorry” tumbling off of his lips unintelligibly.

He all but crawled over to the hill. Ripped off his gloves to sink his hands into the soft moss that blanketed the incline.

He sunk himself into it, buried his face into it, folded in half and shaking.

You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this.

An apology felt hollow and insignificant. And Kethek hated that it was the only thing he could offer him. . Because there was nothing.... nothing he could do to take it back now. Nothing.

But an apology never comes. He can’t hope to utter it. Refuses to speak nothings into the air. It would be a disservice. An insult.

Because possibly the worst, most painful part of all of this was that he knew, without a doubt, that he, in the same circumstances, would do it again.

He would do it again.

He wouldn’t have a choice.

It’s all of this. The overwhelming grief. The pain. The guilt and the shame that crash over him and make him oblivious to the fact that his time is short. That Pidge might soon return and discover him like this. Broken, slumped into the ground and sobbing.

He doesn’t even consider it. It’s not even a thought in his head.

The only thing that manages to eventually get him to come back to himself is the feeling of vines around his ankles.

Vines around his ankles.

Why should he care about vines around his-

Kethek snaps, pushing himself upright so fast he feels dizzy with whiplash as he cranes his neck to see his ankles be wrapped up by a vine protruding from the base of the hill.

He squirms, but the vines hold strong and he panics, tears blurring his vision and heart beating too fast to think clearly about what exactly was happening.

And that’s when he notices that his wrists are now encased too. Trapping his hands where they had pressed into the moss at his sides when he had pushed himself up.

He realizes, terrified, that he’s being restrained. The lion is restraining him. This is the lions doing. She knows what he did now. Somehow she knows and this is her punishment. This is her-

Suddenly it still.

It’s quiet.

It’s dark.

He doesn’t feel the vines on his wrists.

He doesn’t feel… anything.

He blinks his eyes. Once, twice, again. And then…. faint light. The faintest of light appears in a line across his eyes.

A horizon, he realizes. Light over the horizon of a black, empty plain.

He coughs, his tears having clogged his sinuses and labored his breathing. It echoes around the darkness. Every sniffle. Every choke. It reverberates around him. Through him.

And then…. he hears it. A whisper.

“Kethek.”

He nearly jumps out of his fur at the sound, eyes flying wide and heart stopping as he whirls around to look at the speaker.

And when he does, he doesn’t believe it. Not for one second. No. Because this isn’t real. There was no way this was real.

“Kethek.” The voice whispers again, the sound ringing in his ears.

“Vex...”

Vex smiles. It’s soft. Unpitying. Kind.

Kethek chokes. Tears unrelenting in their downpour.

“Kethek.” He says it again. It’s gentle.

“Vex- what- what is- where-?!”

Vex shakes his head, silently cutting Kethek off as he takes his hands into his.

He says nothing. Just looks at him. Smiles at him.

There’s a pain in his eyes that Kethek can see, but his demeanor is calm. Peaceful.

And everything inside of him just…. stills. His heart. His mind. Everything.

He feels like he’s dreaming. Maybe he is. Nothing seems real and yet everything is tangible. Clear and sharp.

When he finally speaks again, his words are soft, gentle, and spoken in Galran.

“Sepik tar nahf.”

“All is well.”

Kethek blinks. Confusion and pain crashing together blindingly in his mind, and in that instance. In that second of closing his eyes, Vex vanishes. The plane of existence they’d both briefly were together on goes dark again and Kethek feels his stomach swoop like he’s falling.

Color and light and sensation return to him like a broken building crashing down on top of him, ramming his body back into reality and overwhelming his senses.

He blinks his straining eyes open, gasping and heaving and trying to understand what was happening.

The tether he is finally able to grasp onto becomes the sensation of the vines around his ankles and wrists falling away. His brain latches onto that and it pulls him back from delusion and dizziness enough to realize that right in front of his face is a line of twisted vine that stands tall in front of him.

It had been pressed to his forehead.

Now it wilts back into the cover of moss beneath him, as do the vines around his ankles, and everything returns to how it had been before. No signs at all that anything Kethek had just experienced was real.

Kethek is still panting. Still out of breath. Still rocked with confusion, a headache splitting down from the center of his head.

“Sepik tar nahf.”

“All is well.”

His eyes are dry now. Almost unnaturally so. His heart beats fast but it’s calm all the same. Unlaboured.

And it’s with this clarity, while unexpected and somewhat unwelcome, that he hears it. The smallest breath of air. One that did not belong to him.

He turns, feeling in every way that he’s been caught red handed.

When his eyes land on Pidge, they meet his gaze with a look of calculation so intense it makes Kethek feel chills.

They clutch an assortment of dull green spheres that Kethek assumes are the fruit and stare at him.

And then they huff, shaking their head with incredulity.

“So you’re still holding out on me, huh.” They tell him.

Kethek doesn’t respond. He’s not quite sure he can. But it’s clear in ticks that he won’t need to. Pidge has drawn a conclusion. Pidge figured something out. And the look in their eyes that tell him that is more intimidating than Kethek would have thought they were able to look.

“It would appear we have something in common after all...” They say slowly, a hint of a smirk on their face.

“...Red Paladin.”

Chapter Text

Lance did not meet Lotor in the hangar. No sir. Lotor’s arrival was not of enough importance to be graced with his presence a single second before it was obligatory. Lotor would come to him. Meet him in the exact spot he specified to have a discussion and expedite this meeting to be as quick as possible.

Which is why Lance is currently sitting alone in the castle laboratory with Xanten and Coran standing outside looking in. Allura had business and was not present, but Lance felt he was in good hands nonetheless. Coran, as fun loving as he was, took absolutely no Quiznaks from Lotor. He was fiercely judgemental of everything and anything Lotor did or said, and Lance loved him for it.

As for Xanten, well he was intimidating without even trying to be intimidating. At least to Lance. Lotor was an annoyingly unshakable man, but Lance liked to think that Xanten would make even him think twice before pulling anything.

It’s what he tells himself while psyching himself up for their impending conversation. Lotor was just here to talk, but he wouldn’t get away with anything shady so long as Coran and Xanten both kept an eye on him.

When Lotor arrived, Lance didn’t even turn to address him as he walked into the room. He sat forwards, back straight, and waited for the man to come around and take the seat in front of him.

And of course, just like with any other interaction Lance had with Lotor, he was sick to his stomach with nerves upon finally meeting his gaze- confidence damned to hell in a way that only Lotor seemed to be able to do.

He was smiling what, on the surface, looked to be a kind, genuine smile, but Lance knew better than to trust it.

“My prince.” He says deeply as he takes a seat. It is truly a pleasure.

Lotor's eyes scan him then, up and down before they fall back to his eyes. Lotor looks heady with want. With intrigue, eyes hooded and intense.

“The cameras don’t do you the justice you deserve, your highness. Every time I’m graced with your presence I’m taken by just how luminous you are. Your gaze could slay armies. I've never encountered anyone with eyes so piercingly blue like your own. You truly are a vision.”

“Does my appearance pertain to any relevant information that you wish to share with me?” Lance asks, trying to move on quickly.

“No,” Lotor smiles, his fangs sharp. “But I find myself unable to resist making you aware of how captivating you are. Anything less than the highest of my praise would be a disservice to you.”

“What is a disservice to me is when my time is wasted Lotor.” Lance tells him, his voice painfully steady.

“Since when did you become so rigid, my prince? I remember you to be much more fun when we were children. What happened to the boy who would braid my hair and kiss my hands?”

“Lotor.” Lance bit sharply, eyes narrowing and lips pursing. He’d had enough of this. “It was always the same. Lotor was always the same. Always with these mind games and infuriating, drawn out pleasantries.

“I only mean to say that it concerns me to see you so stressed, my prince. Especially around someone as inconsequential and familiar as myself. Are your little Galran guards not satisfying you? Not keeping you out of harm's way enough to let your guard down even around me?”

Lance bristles at the phrase. The way Lotor says it. The way his smile curls just so slightly.

He doesn’t know. Lance reminds himself. The scent is gone, he doesn’t know.

And yet something felt so deliberate in the way that Lotor had chosen to ask if he felt his guards were doing enough to protect him and make him feel safe.

Lance convinces himself that it’s paranoia. That he’s reading into things. If he’s going to make it through this meeting he’ll have to convince himself of that, lest he let Lotor have a chance at seeing any weakness in him.

“What is your business here.” Lance asked, not even entertaining the current topic of conversation. The second he let that happen, the meeting would be derailed completely. Lance probably wouldn’t even get the information that Lotor promised him. If there was any information at all.

“You came out of your way and insisted on a private meeting with me. Surely you have actual productive information to share and are not just here for my company.”

Lotor chuckles.

“I admit it’s a bit of both, but because you’re so eager to move on, I will.”

Thank god. Lance thinks, suppressing a breath of air from huffing out of his lungs.

“What is it that you know of quintessence, your highness?”

Lance furrows a brow.

“Quintessence?” Lance scoffed, his irritation flaring. As if Lotor would actually imply that he didn’t know much about quintessence. The literal source of all alchemic power and Altean energy.

“What do you take me for, a child? Why go through all of this to ask me foolish questions, Lotor. I’m not going to sit here much longer if you only mean for me to entertain you.”

“My prince, please!” Lotor smiles, clearly very humored by Lance’s frustration. But he makes his voice soft and holds up his hands placatingly.

“I didn't mean to insult you, it was a genuine question, though I now recognize how you could see it as otherwise.”

“You didn’t mean to insinuate that I have insufficient knowledge on something learned about by school children?” Lance bit. “No? You weren’t going to ask me what sound a yelmore makes next? What color the sky is?”

Lotor laughs. And to untrained ears it might have actually sounded sweet and not condescending. But Lance knew better.

“Speak to me as a child then, my prince. Tell me about quintessence as though I am the one who knows nothing of it.”

“That would be humoring you Lotor. And I am very much not inclined to do so.”

Lotor sighs, holding up his hands in surrender and nods, but the smile never leaves his face.

“Fine then.” He tells him. “Allow me”

“Quintessence is the fuel of life. The source of Altean’s alchemy, and a byproduct of all living things. Difficult to cultivate and illusive to those without alchemic power or Altean technology, but vital to all living things regardless of alchemic ability.”

“This is what we’ve been told, as you said, since we were children. For generations this has been our only understanding of it.”

“So now you mean to imply that this understanding is incorrect?” Lance asks.

“Not incorrect.” Lotor tells him. “Just surface level. As you know, my mother was a leader in quintessence research. As a child I was unaware of the specificities of her work with it, but recently I discovered an old record of her notes from just before she passed. She was on the brink of…. incredible discoveries. Unfathomable discoveries. And I now have a blueprint to unlocking technologies… weapons… medical equipment- things we could have only dreamed of. It is within our reach now. And with time and enough effort, we could see it possibly be the upper hand that we need to end the war.

“Oh.” Lance said, The pieces all finally clicking together. “So you're asking us to fund your research. “That’s what this is. Of course.”

Lance laughs. A petty, irritated laugh. He should have expected nothing less from Lotor. This was one instance out of a thousand where his help was contingent on him being benefited first.

It was incredibly irritating. Insulting even. Especially after all this fanfare, to be sat down and begged for money. And during a time of crisis for the Altean people? Despicable. And it made Lance’s blood boil.

“The Galra won’t have anything to do with you.” He spat. “And Your followers don’t have the funds available that you need, so you come here to us, and ask for funds on a hollow promise that as a reward, we will reap the benefits of this new, valuable information on quintessence that you’ve acquired. Are you serious? You really must take me for a pliant, gullible fool.”

“Lotor, towards the end of her life, your mother went mad. These findings of hers are the findings of a woman addicted to quintessence treatments that were rotting her brain. The validity of her research is highly suspect, and regardless, all of Altea’s resources are held up in the war that we are fighting. There is no room for funds to be allocated to half baked passion projects born of insanity and a son’s admiration for his mother even IF there was a chance that it could lead somewhere.

Lotor's nostrils flare, his gaze sharpening violently in an instant. Lance had been aiming to strike a chord and he’d landed on several. He could practically see the barely contained rage build up behind Lotor's eyes, and Lance found it to be incredibly satisfying. To see past his smug arrogance. To see genuine emotion from him, if only for a moment.

“You don’t get to speak of her that way.” Lotor bit, his voice clipped but surprisingly calm. He was being watched. He had to remain composed. And that gave Lance all the power.

“I am the prince!” He tells him, fists clenching. “And someone of whom you are asking to give you money! To take it from my people and hand it to you with no guarantee of success! So I may speak of her any way I wish if it means you understand that this is not happening! That I refuse and that if this is all that you came here for, you should leave, now!

“You would send me away and subject your people to DECADES of more death and war and suffering?!”

“You would not even have OFFERED us the help that you claim this new information would bring us if we didn’t have something you needed! You wouldn’t have spared a single ounce of effort into helping anyone but yourself, so I am subjecting my people to nothing because YOU are not and have never been a part of our solution!”

Lotor scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and schooling his demeanor back from the brink of rage, leveling Lance with a long dark look.

“Very well.” He growled, jaw tight. “You refuse. So be it. I will continue my research without your assistance. We’ll see how long you last, held up in this castle, fighting for your life before you realize that I am your only option if you ever hope to feel safe again and perform your proper duties to your people without risking a blade through your throat. Victory or death, my prince. Without me, you’ve made your choice.”

“Get out.” Lance replied.

Lotor complied, standing up out of his chair with a defiance that made Lance want to punch him. But he remained seated. Remained steadfast in his choice to dismiss Lotor in every sense of the word.

And for a moment Lance thought it was over. That he would leave and that this all would finally be over with.

But just before Lotor opens the door, he stops.

Lance can’t see him, and refuses to turn around in his chair to look, but he knows what kind of expression must be in his face. The bitter, cold, calculating gaze that never fails to make Lance uncomfortable. The arrogance and unabashed judgement of him- just the thought of it leaves Lance rooted in his chair, stiff as a statue.

“Tread cautiously my prince.” Lotor tells him, his voice low and slow. “You’re looking to find an enemy in me and are blind to the enemies around you. Living like this- refusing my aid- it’s only a matter of time before the Altean people lose their prince and the war. Your choices damn us all.

And with that, he’s gone, quick and quiet.

Lance knows he says nothing to Coran or Xanten. Lance knows he’ll leave without a word to anyone else. His presence here was only for Lance. To belittle. To intimidate. To manipulate. He needed Lance alone and vulnerable. And that’s what he got.

And now… now… he had the audacity to plant seeds of doubt in Lance’s mind. After everything. With every wall up and every precaution taken, Lotor STILL managed to rattle him. To make him second guess himself and his convictions. To have the horrid thought, if only for a moment, that he should catch him before he left the hangar. To negotiate more.

But it’s only a thought. A blink of an idea born out of insecurities that Lotor has an amazing skill to manufacture.

He made the right choice.

Lotor can’t be trusted.

He WILL protect his people and keep himself from harm.

He made the right choice.

It’s this mantra storming desperately through his mind that distracts him from the sound of the door opening again and footsteps approaching. He’s not aware he isn’t alone anymore until Coran speaks his name.

He jumps, blinking, hands clenched into fists as he looks up to the man in somewhat of a daze, heart pumping a bit too hard for him to appear as unaffected as he wants to be.

“That bad, huh?” Coran frowns.

“He’s completely infuriating, Coran.” Lance growls, voice high pitched and wavering. “He belittled my leadership, my decision making- threatened my and my people’s demise if I didn’t choose to fund his little research project and sat me here for nearly half a varga saying literally anything BUT things of importance. But he told me I’m pretty, so I’m supposed to just let it slide, right?”

Coran sighs, crossing his arms in frustration.

“You mustn't let him rattle you, my prince. He does his dealings with you because he thinks he can manipulate you.”

“He can!” Lance cried. “He does! All the quiznacking time! No matter what I do! And he knows it!”

“And yet he walked out of here not having gotten what he wanted, right? So even if you question yourself inside, what matters is that you keep to your convictions regardless. And you always do.”

“But don’t you get it?! He’s wearing me down. He’s got this grand plan and somehow and someday he’s going to break me.”

“Lance…” Coran says in that scolding tone he used on him all the time as a child. “The one person who has any control over whether or not that happens is you.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m worried.”

“Nonsense, prince. You’re just shaken right now. You need to rest up and clear your head. Have Xanten escort you back to your room. Kethek returns tomorrow morning with the green lion after all. We must be prepared for that and we can’t have you feeling this way on such a joyous occasion.”

And that, of course, perked Lance right up, his heart thumping at the mention of his guards name.

If he had been alone he would have probably grinned like a fool but in front of Coran he merely coughs, schooling his expression into one that didn’t look quite so excited as he suddenly felt.

“Yes, you’re right- I’d nearly forgotten after all that had happened. Perhaps it is best that I rest.”

“Of course it is! Because the royal advisor is always right. Coran said dutifully, twirling his mustache and straightening his back.”

Lance smiled softly, chuckling a bit.

“Yes, I guess sometimes he is.”

“Not sometimes my boy! All the times!”

Lance rolled his eyes as he finally stood up from his chair and nodded, patting Coran shoulder in mock support.

“Of course. Forgive me.”

And just like that, the knots in his chest. The heat in his ears, the pounding in his heart. It all was fading. Slowly but surely. Coran was one of few people in Lance’s life that had the skill of being able to take him down from the edge. To calm him, sometimes almost inexplicably, from his stresses and woes. Hunk was one of them. His mother had been the other. And now… now there was Kethek too. And it was in moments like these where he was never more grateful for them.

They exited the room with Coran's hand on Lance’s back. A small pressure over his shoulder that bled with support and steady was, filling each of his limbs with a heavy stillness. Putting out the fire in each of his nerves.

Xanten was standing at the ready in front of the lab doors, emotionless as always, and though his presence wasn’t exactly a comforting one like Coran, and certainly nothing like Kethek’s presence, he was still thankful to see him there. Appreciative.

“Off you go now, your highness. Get some rest. I’m going to clean up around here.”

Lance nodded, bidding Coran goodnight and followed Xanten out the Lab doors.

They walked in silence, as always, Lance finally feeling the haze of sleepiness start to settle over his shoulders, but when they arrived at Lance’s room, he turned around just before the doors closed.

“Xanten- I… thank you… for today. For your help. It did not go unappreciated. I know I have not made things easy for you. But I am grateful for the grace and tact you’ve brought to this situation, in spite of… everything. Your help was… more significant than I probably even realize.”

Xanten nodded once. Expression unchanged. “It is my duty.” He said simply. “Rest now. I depart tomorrow. I wish to be able to assure Kethek upon his return that I enforced former safety and health protocols. Your rest is a part of that.”

Lance smiles, for several reasons. For Xanten… and his charming sense of duty. For the promise of Kethek’s return… and for Kethek himself… who no doubt would be relentless in having Xanten fill him in on everything he missed in his absence.

It fills him with a warmth he is even more grateful for after the emotional turmoil of Lotor’s visit. So he smiles. Almost without control and nods. “I will.”

“Good night Xanten.” He tells him.

Xanten nods back, and then he’s gone. Lance’s door closes and he’s alone. So to speak. He knows that there are four altean guards posted outside his door. But he also knows that any place he can even pretend to be alone in is his room, so he lets his grin grow and his heart swell and his mind fill with what he might do or say to Kethek when he got to see him again, his heart giddy with a childish anticipation, fluttering under his chest.

He gets dressed for bed, lost in fantasies of Kethek. If his eyes. His hands. His barely there smile.

It’s the last and only thing on Lance’s mind as he drifts off into sleep.

______

Shrouded in fluorescent green, propped against the wall of the green lion, locked safely inside with an alien fruit cut open in his lap, Kethek makes the fateful decision to give in. Again.

“You can’t tell anyone. At all...”

“Please”

Kethek had tried to deny it. Had tried to play dumb. His attempts had failed for several reasons. One being that his emotions had been on overdrive after what he isn’t sure was a lucid dream, or some kind of lion- Paladin- mind meld-esk brain link that somehow brought him to a plane of existence that could reach beyond the living and sentient to a place beyond. A place where he saw Vex. Heard Vex. As clear and as vivid as anything in front of him now.

So maybe that was it. But it very well could have been also just because Kethek knew that Pidge knew. And Kethek knew that Pidge knew that Kethek knew that they knew. There was unwavering confidence. A look in their eyes that told them there was so much more that they knew that he didn’t. That any attempt to deny it would be a waste of his time.

They’d figured him out. Somehow. And he could do nothing about it.

So his mieger attempts to keep his identity as the red Paladin a secret didn't last long. They dwindled as Pidge walked past him without a second look. Diminished as the shield of the green lion lowered for them and all but turned to dust when the giant beast bent down to open its jaw for them.

Pidge had figured him out. And they clearly possessed more knowledge and power than Kethek was truly aware of.

So all that was left to do was to scramble inside after them, accept the fruit they offered in silence and bask in yet another horrible failure of keeping his emotions at bay.

“You can’t say a word.”

“Not even to the prince?” Pidge asked. But it was in a way that Kethek was beginning to recognize as Pidge looking for answers beyond the question they were asking. With a knowing in their voice that told him they already had half the answers and were using the question to answer other questions they had that they hadn’t even spoken aloud yet.

“He is the only other person that knows.” Kethek tells them, somewhat feeling like they’d already come to that conclusion.

“The queen… and everyone else thinks that the red lion rescued the prince because of his status as the blue Paladin.”

“So I’ve heard.” Pidge says, not looking up from their fruit.

“The red lion would have let him get caught had I not been the Paladin though. We got lucky.”

“But a Galran Paladin wouldn’t exactly be considered a win for the Altean’s.” Pidge concluded.

They laugh dryly.

“If they knew, you’d be as feared as Zarkon himself.”

Kethek swallows. An uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach. That was blackmail. And both of them knew it.

“So you can’t say anything.” Kethek repeats. “There is a lot at stake if any word of this gets out. Everything could collapse. The prince is already in danger. I can’t risk putting him in any more ”

Pidge huffed noncommittally, but not in a way that didn’t sound agreeable.

“Well the good news is that there is almost nothing left that I haven’t figured out about you yet, Kethek.”

Kethek scowls. “That’s a good thing?”

“With me, yes. You’re a hell of a lot more of a threat to me if I haven’t figured you out yet. I can’t trust what I don’t know. So now that I’ve gotten this far, I’m not as inclined to kill you in your sleep. Or disadvantage you in any way so long as it doesn’t interfere with my plans.”

“I’m not sure that’s comforting.”

“It’s not supposed to be. If your business doesn’t conflict with mine, then there’s no need for me to have any part in your business at all. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“But there is conflict.” Kethek argues. “You’re the green Paladin, you are literally magically linked into my business. We have to bring the lion back and you have to present yourself to the Altean’s as it’s Paladin.”

“Yes, and when I do, that will be the end of it.”

“No it won’t! You’re a Paladin! The Altean’s probably will assign half the guard to protect you! This won’t be something you can walk away from!”

“If they want any chance of me piloting this lion and fighting their war, then they will do exactly what I ask. I have the cards here. Not them.”

“Their war- what the hell does that mean? This is everyone’s war! Are you seriously so selfish that you come into possession of a power that could end a war and you won’t use it unless you get what you want?!”

Pidge laughs.

“Where I come from, Kethek, people like you are the stuff of fiction. We debate if aliens exist. This war has only affected me and the people closest to me. My planet has no part in it at all.”

“Your part in it IS their part in it. And regardless, it won’t last. You’ve been out here long enough to know that Zarkon won’t leave any part of the universe untouched.”

The time it would take for my planet to be affected by this war versus the time it would take for someone in my family to be killed by it sets my priorities pretty fucking straight, Kethek.” Pidge says, finally letting themself get angry.

“Well then I guess you're pretty lucky because you have no chance of finding them without the Altean’s help. They would offer you their resources in exchange for your service as a Paladin in a heartbeat.”

“And I plan on utilizing them. All I’m saying is that I’m not fighting in anyone else’s wars until I win my own.”

Kethek huffs a frustrated sigh. Aggravation bundled up in a flurry beneath his chest.

Arguing with Pidge was like fighting a no win simulation. You could attack from literally every angle and always meet the steel of a blade. There were no openings. No points of entry. Pidge’s mind was made. And there was no changing that.

At the very least, they’d agreed to return to the castle. To take their place as a Paladin. To stick around long enough to utilize their resources. Maybe with all that. If they saw the situation from the inside. If they met Lance… maybe they’d change their mind about abandoning their responsibility as a Paladin.

It was silent again, the argument tabled at least for now as they both finished off the last of the fruit, a pile of bright red pits piled between them. And the tension in the air lessened and Kethek’s irritation calmed, and for just a moment it was peaceful.

Until Pidge spoke again.

“So you’re sleeping with him, right?”

Kethek almost choked on a slice of fruit, heart flying up into his throat.

Spluttering, he coughed, every nerve in his body lighting on fire.

“What?!”

“The prince. You’re sleeping with him.”

Kethek felt like his head was literally going to explode.

He swallowed down the fruit like it was a knife and wheezed for a solid 5 tics before he was able to get out some semblance of believable denial.

“What the hell kind of- what did I do to make you conclude that?!”

And Pidge- fucking Pidge has the audacity to give a smirk so giddy it makes Kethek want to scream.

“Wow, an entire two minutes of literally gagging on air and then trying to deny it in a voice 10 octaves too high? Very convincing Kethek.”

“I’m not sleeping with him!” Kethek shouted, arms whipping out to his sides. “Where the hell did you even come up with that?!”

“Ok then you’ve at least had your tongue down his throat.”

And in that fateful moment, Kethek did the one thing that gave him away. The only thing he could not have anticipated or controlled. It only took a tic, but he hesitated.

He hesitated.

And in that one tic, Pidge had him cornered.

“They raised an amused eyebrow, chewing the last of their fruit.”

“Ohhh, so a budding romance then!” They concluded. “Very interesting. And so very scandalous! Is it the danger of it all that just like- turns you on, or is there actual feelings involved?”

“Oh my GOD.”

Pidge laughs like a little demon, their eyes crinkling with way too much joy.

“I’m KIDDING. My god, Kethek. You’re such a hard ass! You think I would believe for a second that you’d willingly submit yourself to such a dangerous relationship just because you wanted to?! God it’s like you think I don’t know you.”

“You DON’T know me!”

Pidge laughs again and Kethek yet again becomes aware of the terrifying amount of power they possess. The mountains of black mail piling up behind them.

“It’s fine. Like I said, I’m not going to say anything.” Pidge assures, their smugness still plastered across their face. “I just had a hunch and I wanted to see where it led. YOU were the one who decided to have an aneurysm and cough up a lung.”

Kethek is blushing. He knows he’s blushing. He can feel it in his ears. He knows it from the knots in his chest and the racing of his heart. From the sensation of embarrassment that is so similar to rage that he doesn’t even bother trying to distinguish them.

“I never said anything.” He tries.

“You didn’t have to. You told me the prince is the only one who knows about you being the red paladin. And of course that could have just been because he was there when you awoke the lion, but the fact that it remained a secret between you two. That he didn’t immediately tell the queen. That for whatever reason, he cared enough about you to protect you from scrutiny- That implies a certain level of intimacy and trust. It was a hunch, I went with it, and I was right.”

And of course, they were right. What could Kethek possibly say to deny it? He couldn’t. And if he couldn’t. It would mean that this was the first time he’d be admitting to being in… involved with the prince. And Kethek wasn’t prepared for that in the slightest.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Pidge says then, somehow seeming to read his mind yet again.

“But…” they continue. “For the record… you both are insane if you think this will end well.”

Kethek bristles, but keeps his mouth shut, stomping down the frustration he feels bubbling up inside his chest.

It leaves the room to be filled with more silence. The weight of Pidge’s words hanging in the air like a fog.

Pidge isn’t the first to tell him this. Pidge won’t be the last. They aren’t wrong, and Kethek knows it. He knew it from the very start and yet he put himself in this impossible position. And he did it willingly. Against his better judgement. He did it, and everything pointed to the likelihood that he’d someday regret it and it was agonizing. To be repeatedly and consistently reminded that something that felt so… right…. was bad for everyone involved.

Silence ensues again and this time, Kethek can tell that the gears in Pidge’s head are turning. Steam is practically billowing from their ears as they gaze distantly down at the fruit pit in their hands, picking at it in a relentless, distracted kind of way.

And of course, they eventually speak up again, most likely having gathered a way to verbalize what thoughts were in their head.

“One thing I can’t quite make sense of is why the green lion would… interact with
you. Like at all.”

Kethek looks up at them, a furrow in his brow.

“What do you mean.”

Pidge e ffs and grips the pit a little firmer in their hand.

“The Altean’s prince is the blue Paladin. And you said that the red lion would have let him die had you not been there as it’s Paladin to get you both to safety. I know all the lions are linked and all the paladins are linked through them, but paladins don’t have bonds with other lions. At least, that’s what history has shown… past and present.”

“But Green clearly reached out to you.the same way she did with me when I first found her.”

“You mean the thing with the vines? Wrapping around you? And the visions?”

“Yes”. Pidge affirms. “I mean… that’s how I knew you were the red Paladin. Paladins have to have an ability to bond with the other lions to some extent given that they’re all connected, but there’s no obligation for that to happen. The red lion would have let the blue Paladin die, and yet the green lion connects with you, the red Paladin for no reason at all?”

A moment passes where Pidge is thinking deeply again, and Kethek can see the exact moment when an idea comes to them.

“Unless… you have a bond with the green lion that I’m unaware of.”

“How do you mean.” Kethek asks.

Pidge ponders for a moment more before looking up at him.

“What vision did the lion give you.”

Kethek bristles, a lump forming in his throat at the memory of Vex's bright, calm eyes.

He wants to say it’s none of their business. He, for some reason, even wants to get defensive. But he butes his tongue. He calculates, taking a page from Pidge’s book and gives an answer that has potential to answer his questions before he decides how truthful he wants to be.

“What visions did it give you?”

Pidge’s pout deepens, but their demeanor seems compliant. If only just slightly.

“It showed me my family.” They tell him. “Figments of them at least… along with this sense of… stability… I guess. Like I was feeling emotions that weren’t my own. I wasn’t feeling stability at all after having followed a lead to yet another dead end, so it was… significant in that moment.”

Yet another moment passes, both Kethek and Pidge getting lost in their thoughts. In some ways it was the same then. The green lion seemed to calm both of them down when they needed it. Showed them something they needed to see. Something to clear their heads. It wasn't random. It was a pattern. A choice.

“Lance told me a bit about the lions when we found out I was a paladin.” Kethek tells them.

“Lance?” Pidge asks.

“The prince.” Kethek corrects, realizing that he used his name and not his title and that Pidge didn’t know him by anything else. “His name is Lance.”

“He said that the lions are sentient. They have personalities. Their spirit... Their quintessence aligns with their paladin. They have different motivations and make different decisions. His father was the former red paladin, and according to him, the red lion was more temperamental. More unpredictable. Harder to control or bond with in any capacity.”

Kethek pauses, the pit in his stomach growing.

“Maybe the green lion reached out to me because it was in her nature to do so or even just because she was curious. Same as it's in the red lion’s nature to reject and challenge. ”
Why it would have left the prince for dead if the circumstances had been different.”

“He said that the red lion's element is fire. And the Green lions element is forest. One is destructive and volatile and difficult. The other is growth and introspection and stability.”

Pidge stares at him, expression intense but unreadable.

“Maybe that's all it is…” Kethek concludes. “Just… the lions doing whatever is in their nature to do. And maybe they can only connect with other paladins. And if they connect with some paladins and not other paladins it's just because they chose not to.”

Surprisingly enough, Pidge says nothing to that. They just look down at their pit again, thoughts visibly swirling through their head.

It’s several moments before they speak up again at all, their voice quiet.

“We should probably get some sleep before tomorrow. There’s some supplies in cargo if you want an inflatable cot. Mine is set up in the cockpit. You can set yours up in here.”

Kethek stays silent, but gives a nod, not looking up from the pit he’s clasped in his hands.

Pidge gets up and stretches with a yawn, making him realize for himself just how tired he actually was.

Today had been a lot. Too much.

Pidge gathers up the pits and trash and wipes down the surfaces they’d sat on, collecting themself to leave, and Kethek thinks that they're done for the night. That after they've cleaned they'll leave without another word.

But just before Pidge exits, they stop, their lip caught between their teeth with one final thought waiting to be spilled.

“Just for the record, I don’t think it's as cut and dry as you make it out to be.” They tell him. “This idea of a predestined response based on the lion's nature… it’s never that simple.”

“Forests are easy to get lost in. They’re isolated and dense. Dangerous if you go too deep. And Fire... if well maintained if you learn how to manage it, can mean the difference between life and death. It's warmth and survival. There is capacity for both. If the green lion chose to speak with us both, I think there's more to it than sheer curiosity.

They pause, looking conflicted.

“I won't make you tell me what you saw in the vision. But I wouldn't write it off as a coincidence. Or happenstance. If it was anything like mine… it's more than that. I have to believe that it means something.”

Pidge nods then, like they're telling themself that they have said all that they need to say, and then they're gone, turning to walk up to the cockpit and leaving Kethek alone to stew in the meaning of their words. Everything that was said, and most especially everything that was not.

He finds himself desperate, in a strange way, for Pidge to be wrong. It would be easier if they were wrong. If Kethek could chalk it all up to nature. To quintessence and science and reason.

But if there was one thing Kethek was beginning to understand it was that Pidge was never wrong. They were right, it was never, ever so simple.

____

Kethek gets word early the next morning that they are ready for the green lions return.

He finds Pidge in the cockpit to tell them that they can depart and watches as, for the first time, the green Paladin prepares the green lion for flight.

“I’ll have you know that I have no idea what I’m doing.” Pidge tells him as they press buttons and tweak the controls. “I only know a little bit of Altean and I don’t recognize all of these symbols. Also I’m not a pilot.”

“You don’t need to be.” Kethek tells them. “The lion will tell you everything you need to know.”

He walks forward then, pointing to two long poles with handles that reach up to either side of the pilots seat.

“But, just in case you’re looking for more verbal direction- This is thrust.” He tells them. “This one is reverse and this one is forward. Pushing them together creates lift, pushing them apart is decline. The button here I believe is a laser. You hold it for a long blast and push it for short bursts.”

“That’s what I should use to get us out of the cave.” Pidge says then.

“The lion tell you that?” Kethek asks.

“I… think that’s what that was. A thought that’s not your own… right?”

“Sounds like you’re ready to go then.”

“Pidge huffs a breath, wrapping their hands around the thrusters with new found confidence.”

“Alright then.” They say under their breath. “Let’s get you home then, girl.”

Kethek takes his place back at the edge of the cockpit, braced against the wall and watches as Pidge pressed the laser.

A sustained, bright green beam erupts before their eyes making them both jump. A noise, loud and powerful fills the space around them, and then there’s daylight pouring in through the viewing screen where there had once only been a cluster of vines.

The cockpit shifts under them as the lion stands up and then, in no time at all, they’re moving forward so fast it’s almost hard to comprehend. The force of it glues Kethek’s entire body to the wall, hardly able to move a limb as Pidge increases thrust, a Yelp of excitement escaping their lips as they push in for lift.

And Kethek can see it in their posture. In their wide eyes and open mouth grin. A fascination and excitement blooming. A passion. And Kethek had the more concrete hope that this might just be one of the things that gets them to stay. To fight. That they’ll maybe have to think twice about leaving their position as a Paladin behind.

It’s a passion he’s felt for himself. An energy and excitement that consumes the whole body. It’s why he’s in this war in the first place. It’s what brought him out of the safety of planetary life into the stars. This feeling. This energy.

When they’re in the air, the lion does a flip, and for a moment they’re looking back at the ground. Back down at the cave that the lion had made out of vines and plants. The cave that had protected it for years. The cave where Vex now rested.

Kethek’s heart clenches in his chest the instant he sees it. A safe cavern. A protective shield now not intended for green, but for Vex. And it’s not peace that he feels build up in his chest. It’s not a happy feeling. But it’s not a bad one either.

It’s relief. It’s a weight lifted. It’s security.

In no time at all the lion is heading skywards again, blocking Kethek from viewing the ground for more than a few moments. But he can honestly say he feels ok. He feels better. The pain is still vicious and that won’t ever go away. But leaving this planet behind doesn’t break him apart.

And that’s progress.

_____

They’re approaching the wormhole my queen! Coran says from his station on the bridge.

Allura stands under the crystal, her hands on either staff of the podium, eyes shut in concentration.

Lance watches it all from the steps of the platform, waiting to catch the first sight of the green lion coming through her wormhole on the viewing screen.

And his heart nearly implodes with glee when it happens.

It’s one of the smaller lions. Not quite as small as red but smaller than blue. And it’s beautiful.

Everyone on the bridge cheers with excitement as they watch it enter the atmosphere, the entire room celebrating.

Allura opens her eyes again after closing the wormhole and grins down at him, her smile bright and warm and it feels good. It feels so good.

He extends his hand to hold hers and steady her as she descends the steps of the podium and pulls her into a hug.

“Let’s go greet them, shall we?” He asks.

Allura nods. Biting her lip in excitement and follows Lance out of the bridge and to the hangars, Coran trailing behind them with a handful of Altean guards.

They make one quick stop at the kitchens, Lance explaining that he’d promised Hunk that he’d fetch him when the lion made its return.

In addition to being their head chef, Hunk had studied under Coran for most of his life in the castle and his status as the trusted best friend of the prince had awarded him another job as a ship mechanic on his off hours at the kitchen.

Lance had recruited him to be the personal mechanic of his lion, and since the return of the red lion and now the green lion, Hunk was knee deep in excitement about the ships and took it upon himself to care for them all based on what he’d learned from blue.

Hunk had veritably crashed his way out of the kitchens in eagerness when he saw Lance in the doorway and was out of breath as they proceeded to the hangars, babbling with excitement.

“It’s smaller than blue?”

“Only a little.”

“And it had the same yellow eyes?”

“Just like red and blue, yeah.”

“Holy crow, I’m so excited. Have you spoken with the Paladin yet?”

“Not personally. The comms director did though when we received the first transition as they entered the atmosphere. But we’re going to meet them right now so cool your thrusters big guy!”

The hangar was only a short distance away now and Lance could practically feel the floors thrumming with energy.

His heart was beating and yes it was because of the excitement of seeing the green lion, meeting the green Paladin and having a Paladin to train with that didn’t have to be kept secret. But the most prominent aspect of his excitement was, admittedly, Kethek’s return.

An excitement he didn’t have to suppress because it was well disguised amidst the excitement of everything else, allowing him to grin freely and his heart to flutter vibrantly without any effort of concealment.

The first thing he sees though upon entering is, of course, the green lion, and there really is no feeling like it. Even with all his time spent with blue and red, seeing a new lion for the first time is always enough to capture his entire attention and leave him breathless.

“It’s beautiful.” He hears Allura marvel.

“Just as I remember it.” Coran adds. “Not a dent on it.”

And Lance would have chimed in too. Would have voiced his excitement. Made some dumb comment like “it’s very green.” Or joked about all the extra work piling up on Hunk’s plate, which he knows Hunk would say he is eager to do.

But all his thoughts go still as the lion lowers its jaw and the walkway extends to the ground.

His heart stutters when he sees the doors exit at the back of the opening, and leaps when finally, finally, Kethek is on sight.

Kethek’s eyes lock on to his the instant he makes his exit and a look passes between them, so brief but so profound. Relief. Happiness. Calm.

It’s nothing like the broken, sad expression the night that Kethek had made his decision to leave. Nothing like the stone faced frown he wore as Allura reprimanded him for taking a mission off planet without so little warning.

It lasts for only a moment, Kethek breaking their gaze to look down at the figure next to him. A silent way of saying “Look. It was a success. It all worked out.”

Lance shifts his gaze to look at them too and is… on his first impression, surprised.

The green Paladin is small. And very young by the looks of it. They barely reach up to Kethek’s chest and Lance can’t imagine them to be much older than a teenager. They wear big circular glasses and their hair is cropped short and un styled, sticking out in tufts around their ears.

They don’t look nervous… but there is a caution in their demeanor as they descend the ramp.

Kethek follows behind them dutifully and doesn’t look back to Lance again as his feet hit the hangar floor. Instead they’re on Allura. He nods to her and then to Coran and stands back as the green Paladin approaches the three of them and does an awkward little bow.

They eye Hunk curiously, who in comparison to himself and Allura very much did not look like royalty and were probably trying to discern whether or not to greet him in the same manner.

“Oh! Hunk chuckles nervously! Ha! No! I’m not- I’m just the mechanic. These guys are the important people. I’m just- here. Don’t mind me.”

He takes one big step backwards and Lance barely suppresses a chuckle at his antics, having to force himself to not make a quip and turn his attention back to the Paladin.

“My name is Pidge Holt.” They say then. “I come from Earth. It is an honor to meet you, your majesties. I’m glad to finally be able to unite the green lion with its people.”

“And we are overjoyed and honored to meet you, Pidge.” Allura says with the biggest, kindest grin on her face.

“You come from Earth, you say?” Coran pipes up then. “That’s quite a ways away- I don’t believe I was aware of any non-primitive life forms hailing from all the way out there.”

“My people are not nearly as advanced as your own, or the rest of intelligent life for that matter. They are stubborn. Cautious. Set in their ways. As a result, our technologies have not allowed us to be able to communicate or travel beyond our own solar system. Worlds like these are only fantasy to us. I however am highly skilled with technology and developed systems that provided me access to Intelligence that was previously inaccessible. My family and their crew were explorers abducted by the Galra. I came upon this information and went to the institution they worked for for help but was turned away and ridiculed for what they said were delusions and childish fantasies born of desperation and grief. So I took it upon myself to find them and I am here now as a result.”

“Have you had any success in locating those who were abducted?” Lance asks, feeling sympathy for lost family.

“None.” Pidge replied, looking defeated. “Only dead end leads. One of which led me to the green lion itself. I had intentions of bringing it back to Altea for years, but was fearful of the attention it would bring to me. Of the potential harm it could bring to my family if I was discovered. I’ve spent the last two years keeping it hidden and protected on the planet I discovered it on in the hopes that someday I would find a way to get it back safely.”

“Kethek is the only reason I’m here today.” They said then, turning to him. “You have him to thank for its return.”

This seems to take Allura by surprise, her open and kind expression sullying just slightly.

“Your actions are understandable. I only wish we would have had a way to reach you sooner so that you did not have to toil for so long to protect and hide it. I’m sure the burden was great.”

“It was. And it often was the difference between being able to follow a lead to find my family and staying back to prevent its discovery. And it is this very thing that makes me hesitant to take on a roll as it’s Paladin. My first priority is to my family.”

“Then we will do all that we can to provide you with whatever you need to find them.” Lance speaks up. “Having another Paladin, for me most especially, is invaluable. And the lion itself… being able to bond as paladins… bond to our lions… it could help you in your quest in ways you don’t even realize yet. You are in possession of a great power. One that I myself can not fully fathom. I promise you that your focus will not have to be split any longer. I will personally see to it."

Pidge looks somewhat surprised at that and Lance has the feeling that they might have been expecting some pushback. But there was no questioning this decision.

“Agreed.” Allura says then.” As I am not a Paladin myself, the prince will be of much greater use to you in your quest, but any resources I can lend, you need only ask.”

“Thank you, your majesties. Your generosity is… very appreciated.” Pidge says then, giving another awkward bow.

“For now, though, I’ll show you to your quarters!” Coran smiles. “Get you settled in, hm?"

“Yes.” Allura agrees. “Take all the time you need. A meal will take place in three Vargas. You can request it to be delivered to you or you can go to the kitchens yourself. We will send a guide to escort you, and give you a tour if you so desire.”

“Myself and the prince must return to our duties and Hunk, our mechanic will be conducting an inspection of the lion. I’m sure he is eager to speak with you, so at any point in the quintant if you would make time to do so-“

“Yes!” Hunk blurts. “That! That would be amazing! I’d love to talk.”

Allura smiles, and even Pidge gives a little grin.

“Sounds good.” They say. “I’m on it.”

“Very well then, if you’ll follow me?” Coran says.

Pidge nods and Allura bids them goodbye, making her way out of the door to the left as they go to the right, squeezing Lance’s hand with a smile as she rushes to her next engagement.

Hunk gives a quick pat pat to Lance’s back before he’s basically sprinting to the foot of the green lion and then it’s just Lance and Kethek. And all the Altean guards.

They look up to each other and exchange a million silent words of happiness. Of relief. But they can’t hug. They can’t touch. They can’t do anything that Lance wants so desperately to do. To tell him he looks so beautiful. That he’s so happy he’s back. That he missed him and thought about him and-

“I’m glad to see you well, your highness.” Kethek says with a civil nod.

“Yes, and you as well.” Lance replies, snapping out of it. "Excellent work bringing the lion back. We are truly in your debt.”

Kethek shakes his head. “You give me more credit than I deserve. This should have happened a long time ago.”

He turns then to the guards tasked with accompanying Lance whilst he was gone and nods.

“You are relieved. You may attend to your other duties.”

The guard salutes. Less reluctant than they had been in the past to do so, Lance notes, and file out of the hanger.

And finally, finally, with the exception of Hunk who is far too distracted to pay attention to anything other than the lion, they are alone.

Lance lets himself smile. Smile in the way he’s been dying too. The smile that’s just for Kethek.

He reaches out discreetly to take Kethek’s hand and feels him stiffen, his eyes scanning the room with caution before his gaze settles back on Lance.

“Not here.” He tells him under his breath. Squeezing his hand before dropping it back down.

“Tonight.”

Lance’s heart flutters. He nods, only enough for Kethek to see and takes a small step back, trying to reign in his smile.

Tonight. Lance thinks. I can wait until tonight.

Kethek extends a hand, gesturing for Lance to lead the way out to his next set of responsibilities and Lance nods, beginning to walk. Kethek falls into step behind him as he waved goodbye to Hunk and makes his exit, heart leaping and smile only growing.

———

As it turns out, Lance was very much NOT able to wait for the night.

The entire day had been agony and finally, finally when Kethek had taken him back to his room for the night, he left! He had whispered that he’d be back and gave him this promising look, but he left!

And now all that was left for Lance to do was pace around, jumping at every noise he heard on the off chance it was Kethek knocking at his door.

He’d gone around and fluffed every pillow. Cleared dust off of every surface. Checked and rechecked his appearance in the mirror. Turned on music. Turned off music. Turned the music back on again.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was anticipating. Wasn’t sure how to prepare or even why he thought it necessary to prepare. As though somehow tonight would be more significant than the other times Kethek had entered his room. The first was to put him to bed when he’d got wasted at the spa. The second was their first kiss. The third? That felt significant. Was it significant?

The first two had been somewhat happenstance. At least less so than this time which was an intensional decision. This was an intensional decision through and through. This had been planned. Planned by them both.

It clouded Lance’s mind with endless thoughts of what if’s and what does that mean's and what if it’s not's.

Lance knew what he wanted. God he knew what he wanted. But he had no idea if Kethek was even remotely there yet. He had seemed to be in a good place when he returned but Lance had no idea what had happened while he was gone. No idea if he’d been able to grieve. To find some semblance of closure or healing.

He wasn’t supposed to have found Pidge. He had planned on being there alone. Perhaps that created a rift in his plans. Prevented him from doing what he’d set out to.

When the knock does eventually come Lance basically falls out of his chair, his legs shaking with what he can only assume is a mixture of nerves and giddy anticipation.

He treads quietly and quickly to the door, opening it in the way he’d practiced in his head.

He nearly loses all of his mind when he meets Kethek’s eyes and sees him with a tiny, soft, barely there smile and literally has to mentally slap himself to pull it back together and go through the lines he rehearsed for any guards who may or may not pass through the halls.

“Kethek thank you for coming. This should only be brief.”

Professional, vague, and quick. Unlikely to turn heads.

Kethek nods and Lance steps aside to let him in, closing the door and pressing up behind it, letting his excitement spill out.

As soon as Kethek turns around Lance is lunging forwards, barreling into his arms.

And Kethek- Kethek actually chuckles. Laughs. It’s just a small puff of air against Lance’s ear but it makes his entire heart swell.

Kethek is happy. He’s happy.

Lance pulls back, arms clasped tightly around Kethek’s shoulders, his eyes shining.

“I hate that you made me wait.” He jokes.

And Kethek, obviously in an attempt to kill him, lifts a hand to Lance’s face and tucks a tuft of hair behind his ear.

“I had business with the guard.” He tells him. “It had completely slipped my mind and there wasn’t any moment during the day that I found to tell you. I’m sorry.”

Lance grins, heart fluttering at the softness of his voice. The gentle gaze he was leviling him with.

“You’re here now.” He whispers. “And I want to hear everything.”

And so Kethek tells him everything. Lance sits down with him on the couch and cuddles into his side as he tells him about Pidge’s holograms. About how the Galra had used the planet as a burial ground. How Pidge might not have stayed had it not disturbed them so much. How they were frighteningly intelligent and fiercely stubborn.

“They know about you. About… me… us… being- well… involved.”

Lance’s eyes fly wide.

“You told them?!” He asks, shocked.

“I didn’t even allude to it.” Kethek says. “They’re incredibly intuitive. They figure things out from almost nothing and are always right. All I said was that you knew about me being the red Paladin.”

“They know that too?!”

“They know almost everything.” Kethek sighs. “It’s incredible.”

“Well then there’s no better fit for the green Paladin.” Lance says. “My father said that the green lion would take to a Paladin of tremendous curiosity and high intelligence. He interviewed nearly our entire team of castle researchers, technicians and engineers to see if he could find its match. All of them fell through. To think that it’s some small human, all the way from Earth no less… it’s fascinating. I’m amazed that we even found them. Or rather that they found us.”

“It has to be fate. Destiny, you know? That everything happens by design. Science can’t explain things as unlikely as that.”

Kethek is strangely silent at that, and Lance looks up to him curiously.

He concludes then that it must be because of the one thing that has remained undiscussed and his heart drops.

“Oh- Kethek I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I know you- that this was more than just a trip for the green lion and I didn’t mean to insinuate that-“

“No-“ Kethek says, cutting him off. “It’s not that- I know- I know what you meant.” A beat of silence passes where Kethek seems to be lost in thought before he speaks up again.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to heal from this.” He tells him, knowing that Lance knows what he is referring to. “I don’t think forgiving myself is possible. Or even right. I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I never will.”

“Kethek…” Lance tries, but he shakes his head before Lance can console him.

“It’s the truth.” He tells him, looking into his eyes with a sad, but assured expression.

“But I can grow. I can move forward and carry my mistakes with me without them breaking me. I can find peace. Someday. Going back there showed me that. Confronting him. Letting myself grieve showed me that. You. You showed me that.”

Kethek takes his hand and Lance’s heart stutters. Kethek looks at him with so much intensity. So much emotion that it makes Lance’s entire body melt. From affection. From being overwhelmed. From the mere fact that this was really happening. That the Kethek he met in the throne room all that time ago was here with him now. Holding his hand. Healing. It makes him melt.

“Thank you Lance.” He tells him, his voice soft and so, so heartbreakingly sincere.

Lance smiles, eyes bright and he swears if this keeps up he will start crying. So instead, he leans forward. Slowly, his eyes stay locked on Kethek’s until their lips brush. His eyes flutter shut as he presses in. Slowly. Gently. Like a sigh. A release of all the pent up energy inside him that has been waiting for this moment all day.

He waits, only for a moment for Kethek to push back. To meet him halfway. And when he does, it’s euphoria. Giddy and bright and heart stopping.

Lance pulls back to catch his breath and looks back to him, flushed and so, so happy. His stomach flip flopping with… well… excitement.

He makes a choice then. To test the waters. To see where it would lead. To see how far Kethek wanted to go.

“Help me get ready for bed?” He asks.

Kethek looks surprised. A bit taken aback even, but not enough to look opposed or unwilling.

He blushes, and Lance internally swoons.

“Uh- yeah-I- sure.” He says, scooting away to allow Lance to stand up.

“Lance grins, rising up off the couch and taking Kethek’s hand to bring him with him.

They walk to his vanity and Lance begins to quickly put away all his jewelry. Earrings, necklaces, his crown. He gets through it fast so that he can get to the good stuff.

“Would you mind getting me a night shirt from that drawer?” He says, working at a clasp of one of his shorter necklaces that he can’t pull over his head.

Kethek nods, turning to retrieve it and Lance jumps into action, just according to plan.

He tears off the remainders of his jewelry and quickly goes to the zipper at the back of his shirt.

It’s a struggle that he genuinely had very, very frequently- struggling to unzip his shirts where the zipper goes all the way up the neck.

The only thing that’s different is that he may have worn this particular shirt today because he knew Kethek was returning. And because he knew it was the most difficult one to unzip. Which meant that his struggle now to get it down was authentic, even if it was staged and completely planned out.

When Kethek turns back around it’s to the sight of Lance reaching back, looking at the zipper in the mirror.

Lance anticipated this going one of two ways. Kethek being polite and waiting for Lance to ask for his help, or Kethek straight out offering it. His choice would also demonstrate his comfort level, which Lance planned to use to then determine how he would proceed.

When Kethek does the latter of the two options, Lance’s heart practically falls into his stomach.

“Here.” He says gently, placing the shirt on the vanity desk. “Let me help.”

Lance had planned to pretend to be bashful in accepting his offer, but he had been so convinced that he would be the one to ask that it takes him for a loop and thus the bashful pause in his movement and blinking surprise is 100% genuine.

He gives him a small smile and says “Thank you.” Turning so that his back was facing Kethek.

He approaches silently which makes the feeling of his warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder before moving up the neck to his zipper feel like a jolt through Lance’s entire body.

He looks into the mirror to see Kethek grasp the fabric in his hands and slowly pull down at the zipper.

His heart is crashing in his chest and Kethek looks so steady and assured. He wonders if he feels the same. If his heart is racing too.

Kethek reaches the end of the zipper and Unclasps the end, leaving the silk shirt to fall over Lance’s shoulders and expose his back.

Lance collects the shirt, pulling his arms through and grips the fabric tight in his hands before sucking in a breath and turning around.

And for a moment, the world falls completely still. Lance meets Kethek's eyes and something shifts. The air in the room grows heavy and everything. Everything goes quiet.

Lance searches Kethek’s gaze and he returns it with an intensity that Lance has never seen.

They’re both contemplating the choice they’re about to make or maybe not make. In this moment, they’re choosing what this… thing between them is. What it will be. If they should listen to their better judgement or the feeling in their gut.

And when Kethek breaks eye contact, after what felt like eons of held breath and pounding hearts, to look at Lance’s shoulders, then his stomach and then up to his eyes again, and quiznacking swallows… Lance knows the choice has been made.

Lance moves forward at the same instant Kethek does, their lips crashing together in a frenzy. Kethek’s hands find his hips, his stomach, his back, his shoulders. His mouth opens to accept Lance. To bring him in. Closer. Closer. Closer.

His hands roamed smoothly, gently, but with anticipation and fire and energy, There was confidence where there was once hesitance, but Kethek was still reverent. And it was much the same as it had been the last times they had found themselves here, wrapped in each other, and yet somehow so, completely different.

And then…. then Kethek’s nose finds its way under Lance’s jaw. He inhales and Lance feels his entire body go rigid. It throws a wrench into the plan, Lance panicking.

He pulled away, concerned and where he’d expected to see Kethek looking fearful or guilty- he was lewd, eyes dropped and jaw slack.

Lance furrowed his brows, relief flooding over him but still a tad confused.

He smiles a bit, out of breath as he asks. “You ok there?”

Kethek swallowed, seeming to forcibly have to pull himself out of whatever he’d become lost in to be able to nod and answer the question.

“I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have done that- I just- it just…”

And then he goes still, his eyes widening slightly with what appeared to be a realization.

The haze he had seemed to be in stars away as his posture straightens and he looks to Lance with concern.

“Oh, god, oh no no no, I actually shouldn’t have done that- shit and it’s not the first time is it- oh shit.”

Lance chuckles, deciding to play dumb.

“Do what?” He asked. “That cute thing where you bury your nose into my neck? What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s- I was… Galra have… we have a stronger sense of smell than most do- sometimes I forget, because of the suppressants- and- I just- I- I got- got swept into it, but it means- it means that other Galra- Galra like Xanten-“

“Hush.” Lance laughed, cutting him off. “I know what scenting is, Kethek. And I already dealt with the repercussions of our last… exchange.” He smirked. Xanten actually was the one who informed me that you had-“

“Xanten knows?!”

“Yea, but I think he’d suspected it long before he could smell it. Poor guy had to stand there and tell me he could smell it and it was torture for both of us. He might not have even said anything if Lotor hadn’t been arriving later.

Kethek swallowed again, his lips pulled tight. And that guilt- that hesitance that Lance had been afraid of rose back into Kethek’s posture.

“I’m sorry.” He said seriously, back stiff with guilt. “I should have never- we shouldn’t be- this is exactly why I shouldn’t- I can’t control myself with you Lance, it’s getting harder and harder and one day it could put you in a position where you have to-”

“Shhhh.” Lance shushes again, silencing Kethek with a hand to his cheek.

“Kethek, this isn’t just your choice. It’s mine too. I choose this. I choose the risk.”

He lets a sultry smile bloom on his lips then, pressing in closer to Kethek’s space.

“I love it when you don’t hold back. I don’t want you to contain yourself. I want you. As authentically unrestrained and you as you can be.”

“I want this. And I thought I made my intentions pretty darn clear to you, did I not?”

Kethek bit the inside of his lip, but didn’t respond. Holding his breath and looking at Lance like one more touch would break him.

“I want you to do to me what you keep telling yourself you can’t. I want you to let go, Kethek. I want it too. Just as bad.”

“We’ll be careful. We’ll do what we need to do. I’ll just bathe so we get rid of the scent after. Maybe you can join me in the shower to make extra sure that I get rid of… everything?”

Kethek flushes even more.

“And even if they know, even if it comes to that, I would choose you, every time, regardless of the circumstances.”

“I’m yours, Kethek.” Lance tells him, his voice soothing and soft. “Yours.”

Kethek swallows again, but Lance could see his resolve fracturing. Just… one more push would do it.

Lance smiles, dipping his hand down from Kethek’s jaw to hold at the back of his neck.

“Tell me…” he whispers.

“Tell me what you want to say.”

Kethek stares at him, conflict plain on his face.

“Come on. The first thing. What’s the first thing on your mind?”

And after a moment, after just a few more moments of gentle touches and longing stares, Kethek finally melts.

“You smell- perfect.” Kethek suddenly murmurs.

It’s not what Lance had expected, but it flushes him warm nonetheless. Kethek’s eyes regained that somewhat glazed over quality and he looked so, so serious, golden eyes practically glowing with intensity.

Lance smiled, chuckling a bit. “I’m glad you think so.” He smiled. “How come this has never come up before?”

“It did.” Kethek responds. “The first day I arrived. I had the blades supply me with medication as soon as I knew it would be a problem.”

“You took medication to keep from smelling me?”

“It’s very distracting.” Kethek explained. “I just- I didn’t want to risk anything.”

“But you can smell again now? To the same degree? Why is that? Did you stop taking it?”

“No. I just- the medication lowers my ability to- It doesn’t eliminate it, it’s just less.”

“Oh. So when you get really close…”

“It’s a lot.” Kethek finished for him, feeling the heat palpably in his cheeks. And even though his heart was pounding and his breaths were turning ragged, he was being pulled in again. It was becoming too much for him to not get distracted. And before he could step away again, Kethek’s nose was at his pulse point, nudging along the sensitive skin reverently as his grip grew tighter and his head lighter.

He huffed a ragged sigh and Lance smiled. Giddy with the walls he felt crashing down around them.

So he took Kethek by the chin, and kissed him. And Kethek kissed him back. Lovingly. Carefully. Kissed his neck, then his jaw, and then his lips. Feverishly. Passionately.

When he pulled away, he looked completely wrecked. Lips bitten and shiny, mouth slack. And his teeth- his teeth were- were they sharper? Lance squinted and got a closer look, most definitely seeing that Kethek’s k-nines were longer and came to a more defined point.

“Woah- Kethek, your- your teeth-” Lance stuttered breathlessly.

Kethek, breathing heavily, seemed to take only a half a second to consider what Lance was saying before he elected to ignore the comment completely and kiss Lance again.

And Lance, of course, was not complaining. But he was certainly learning a lot about Galra. They had really strong smell, their teeth could elongate with intense emotion(?)…. apparently… he’s pretty sure their eyes have a certain luminescence in the same circumstance and- and wait- wait one quiznaking moment- was that??

Lance pulled away again, eyes wide and mouth open in a huge smile.

“Are you purring?!?” He practically shouted, his hand still over Kethek’s chest where it had been resting in their embrace.

He pressed his palm gently between Kethek’s pecs and felt it- a rumbling- a soft little thrum of something.

This time, Kethek couldn’t ignore Lance’s questions and god dammit, he was blushing. Like literally blushing. Kethek- made of stone, I’ll kill anyone who touches you was PURRING and blushing because of the fact that he had scented Lance and was kissing him.

“It’s- uh- I- it’s the scent, it messes with- it makes it hard to-”

“It’s ADORABLE! Lance squeaked, grinning like an idiot. I had no idea Galra could PURR!”

“Lance-” Kethek tried, visibly looking like he’d pass out from embarrassment.

And Lance sympathized. He was aware that he was probably majorly and repeatedly killing the mood, but this was all so new and he just- he had to.

So he apologized, smiling affectionately, tucking a strand of hair behind Kethek’s ear.

“I’m sorry, I just- The only context I’ve ever known the Galra in is when they’re trying to kill me.” He chuckled. “You were the first galra who I had ever personally had an entire conversation with, so I had no- no semblance or concept of this being a thing until now. I had… no idea that there was this… softness… a softness built into your bodies- I…”

Shit Lance was having an existential crisis. They were supposed to be making out and Lance was having an existential crisis.

Galra could purr. Galra had a mechanism in their bodies dedicated to expressing love and happiness. Galra were not faceless soldiers on a battlefield. Galra were not inherently evil.

Zarkon was evil. Galra were loyal.

Galran commanders and high ranking officials, who mercilessly killed and conquered were evil, but Galra themselves- all Galra were not. Just as not all Alteans were good. The war had given them these roles in Lance’s head that were just- wrong.

Galra were literally built to love. To protect. To defend and Kethek was his living breathing example of that. Vex had been an example of that. The Blade were examples of that.

The thrumming in Kethek’s chest has subsided to the point where Lance could no longer feel it and Lance finally gained the self awareness to understand that it was because he was making Kethek uncomfortable.

So Lance smiled, putting a gentle hand on Kethek’s cheek and another on his shoulder.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to derail this. I just…. I think you’re beautiful. It’s…. beautiful that you have something built into your body dedicated to expressing love and happiness. That’s… it’s just… I love it.”

“I… I love… you.”

“I love you.”

And then Lance’s heart stops. It turns to stone. His eyes fly wide and his body sizes up and everything goes still again because… because he’d just told Kethek he loved him. Without even a second thought, and absolutely nothing inside of him was telling him that he was wrong.

He loved him.

He quiznacking was in love with him.

And now Kethek knew. And he knew.

This was love. Undeniably and inexplicably.

It was love.

A laugh bursts from Lance’s lungs, breathy and soft.

“I love you Kethek.” He says, a grin blooming in his face.

And ancestors… the way Kethek scoops him up. The way his eyes grow wet and his brow furrows deep. The way he pulls him in to kiss him to hold him. Lance has never felt anything like it.

Never felt more safe. More happy. More loved.

He wants to cry with joy. Wants to melt into Kethek. To hold him and love him and cherish him in every sense of the word.

All doubt. All fear. All the questions of right and wrong. Life or death. Duty or dreams. They evaporate. Not even reappearing when his back hits his mattress.

They stay gone when Kethek crawls over him. Non existent when he pulls off his armor, and Lance gets to see, for the first time, the beauty that’s underneath it.

Lance melts. And melts. And melts.

He, seemingly without the capacity to stop himself- without the need to stop himself, brings his hands to Ketheks now bare chest as he falls over him, his breaths stuttering to a stop as the skin of his hands meets the curve of his chest, flushed warm with the heat that is beginning to endlessly boil between them.

He moves them down. Over the ridges of his abs and down to the cut of his hips where the pants of his undersuit still cling to him.

He trails the path blindly, seeing it all, the open expanse of skin through touch alone. Through the curves and divots that sculpt Kethek’s body. His gaze would be cast up at the curtains of his bed frame that drape above him if he could keep his eyes from fluttering shut at every kiss Kethek presses into his neck. Into the plush of his lips, so softly, and yet, starved. Desperate. Breath taking.

His breaths leave him in short pants, his chest swelling and locking on each kiss and nibble that Kethek’s mouth delivers.

It feels like metamorphosis. If he was such a creature to experience it, this would be how it feels, Lance thinks. A shedding of skin. Of a hard exterior. A tentative and thrilling process of peeling back a strong, once necessary barrier for the sake of growth. Exposing something so much softer. So much more delicate and breakable in a time and space where you trust, finally, that you will not be broken in the process. Where you will become new- must become new, or risk perishing in the husk of safety that no longer fits. That can no longer sustain you. Provide for you.

This is metamorphosis. For himself. For Kethek. He can feel it in his bones. In the way he aches. Desires. Craves. The way his body is telling him to push forward. Touch more, kiss harder, get closer, melt together.

He feels so much. His body vibrates with it. From the sensation of another consuming each nerve of his body. Blanketing him with warmth, pressure, breath. Surrounding him.

Kethek is everywhere. Ever present. The hair that drifts from his forehead onto Lance’s own, feeling like cool wisps of air that breeze through a building heat. His wet lips like bursts of cool light in a dark, sweltering summer. His hands on him burn like fire and leave chills on each surface of skin he touches when they move to hold somewhere new. Exploring and mapping and treasuring him, just as Lance is doing now, his hands having found their way back around Kethek’s waist and up to the blades of his shoulders. He trails the tendons that flex and tighten as He holds himself above him, just enough where their chests are separated. Where they touch only on the expanse of a gasp, a breath, a give of muscle.

It’s then that Kethek gasps. An almost whimper. A noise so soft it sets Lance’s heart off in a beat so exhilarated he loses the breath from his lungs. It was a particular grind of their hips. One perhaps accidental that caught them both off guard with its unexpected pleasure. Lance felt it too. The arousal. The sharp, nearly stinging bolt of desire that churned his gut with molten lava. A sensation not unfamiliar, but wholly thrilling as though it was brand new.

Because this wasn’t just anyone causing these feelings. This wasn’t his own hand or a nameless, drunken partner. This was Kethek. This was Kethek straining through his pants. Unabashed and unapologetic. Uncontrollable. This was Kethek without an ability to disguise himself from Lance in any capacity. Without a desire to. This was Kethek experiencing intimate pleasure because of the sensation of Lance’s hips meeting his. Their shared hardness undeniable and thrilling.

Lance feels the shiver run through Kethek’s body like it’s the ground shifting- shaking from a quake. That sensation of the steady ground on which one stands suddenly bending and breaking and losing the stability so inherent to its nature that it’s terrifying to see it flex and take on a new state of being. One that irrevocably affects everything and anything that is familiar and safe- forcing it to become unknown and temporary.

This doesn’t terrify Lance though. Not like the shaking of heavy bookshelves and cracking of window panes. His heart hammers in a similar way. His body is alive and alert, but it’s thrilling. He wants it. Craves it. Wants to root himself in the forming cracks in Kethek's composure and feel him come apart. Wants to hear the noises it will push from his lungs. Noises that only these moments of intimacy could ever pull from him, never to be heard otherwise.

So he doesn’t wait for Kethek to be the one to rock into him again. Not sure if he can take the time it may take for him to build up the courage to do so, or for it to happen as an accident again.

He takes hold of Kethek, anchoring his hands to his shoulder blades and lifts his hips up into his. Presses himself firm there, and drags upwards. Curves himself inwards. Bringing their mouths closer and slotting their crotches together.

The reaction it pulls from Kethek is beautiful. Fascinating. Thrilling. His relentless torrent of kisses- the most familiar comfort in a situation so new for them both- stops in its tracks, his mouth falling open against the skin of Lance’s jugular.

Lance feels the noise of pleasure build up in his body before he hears it. It tightens his chest and turns his body ridged before it slowly punches out of him- a deep whimpering moan. Soft and shaky and stunned.

Lance wants to drink it. Drown in it. Melt into it.

And finally- finally, Kethek returned the gesture. Experimentally, he repeats the action himself. Pushing Lance’s hips back down into the mattress with his own. Holding his breath and releasing it in choppy puffs of air against his neck. Then finally an “oh fuck.” Said in a breath so broken it’s almost inaudible.

They build a steady grind from there and Kethek finds his lips again. Ravishing and wet and insatiable. Heat somehow growing even more intense between them. It has Lance panting. Sweating. Seeing stars. And they haven’t even gotten completely bare. Their skins have not yet been fully shed, discarded. Forgotten. There’s still more to explore. More to discover.

Realizing that sends Lance’s heart into his throat.

He pulls away, reluctantly but determinantly moving his hands from Kethek’s back to his shoulders, pushing up. Separating them.

The look Kethek finally casts down at him is otherworldly. He’s flushed. His bangs cling to his temples with sweat and his pupils are blown wide, brows pressed heavy and lustful over his eyes, betraying an intensity, a near desperate concentration that he’d had on his task of kissing Lance apart that has now been disrupted.

As soon as their eyes meet, his face softens. The expressional equivalent of taking a step back. Realizing just how close you were. Realizing just how lost you’d become.

Kethek’s breath of that realization fans over the skin of Lance’s cheeks, which he feels growing pink. Because the way Kethek is looking at him. The awe in his eyes as they flick all over Lance’s face, drinking him in. Memorizing and savoring with some heavy mix of disbelief and desperation. Like he can’t believe he’s real. Like he can’t comprehend that he’s allowed himself to get this far. It makes Lance positively melt… and melt… and melt.

Their breaths are both labored as they come to a silent, collective understanding that they’ve reached the point of no return. Lance can see it in the shaking of Kethek’s biceps. Can see it in the growing hunger in his eyes that ebbs away at the awe and disbelief to replace it with more determination. More fire. More lust.

They’re doing this.

Lance’s hand moves up Kethek’s neck, up to his temple through the strands of hair that lay there. He moves his fingers through them. Over the sharp point of the tip of his ear.

He swallows.

“Undress me.” He whispers to him, his heart thrashing. “Take me apart.”

His other hand guides Kethek’s to the buckle of his pants. Presses it firmly into the valley between his hips. Just above his growing arousal which aches at the proximity of his lovers' touch.

Kethek sways, breaths stammer. Lance knows his head is spinning with it. Because his own feels just the same. Dizzy with the weight of his own words.

Kethek’s legs bracket his thighs more firmly in a compliant gesture. Preparing him to sit up higher. Remove the weight from his arms so that he may bring them to Lance’s hips. To take the fabric that covers them and expose the flesh beneath. The curves and edges that carve out his most private, precious, sensitive areas.

Kethek does it like he’s performing a ritual of worship. Like every inch of flesh he touches and uncovers is as precious and delicate as an ancient work of art. Lance can see his chest flexing and twitching with the beat of his heart. See his abdomen tighten with the same churning that’s set deep into his own gut.

He’s been bare in front of Kethek before. Lance remembers it now, the fond memory now heavy with all that it implied. All that it foreshadowed before either of them were fully aware of the nearly helpless nature in which they kept forcing themselves closer to each other.

He’s been bare in front of many people. In front of friends. Other lovers. Servants and attendants and doctors.

He’s never been shy. Never felt shame of his body. Never felt the need for modesty, always naturally cavalier on instinct. His flesh was natural. A gift. A sensation and experience of life. Of pleasure and pain and love. Touch was welcome. Comforting. Whether it be a grip on his shoulder from a friend. A soothing hand down his back from someone he loved. Or the searing hot burn of Kethek’s hands on his hips. None of it was unwelcome and yet here, in this moment, it sets Lance’s heart to stone. An anticipation born of something so familiar and beloved by him suddenly feeling so completely new and unfamiliar. Unexplored.

Because this was not Lance bearing himself. This was Kethek bearing him. Uncovering him. Exposing him. For no one other than himself. The two of them.

Lance realizes that it’s the first time he’s ever asked for it. Ever given up the reins completely. Wanted to give up the reins completely. Of the control he strictly maintains in most every situation he encounters.

He wants Kethek to take control. Trusts him to do so. Needs him to do so. And it sends ice through his veins. Chills down his spine. Makes his heart thump and skip erratically. Makes him, for the maybe the first time, shy. Anxious about what Kethek will uncover with the open vulnerability and trust Lance wants so badly to give him and take hold of.

It makes his body flush so completely. His breath catches so violently when finally, finally the fabric runs over him, catches on the head of his member, and eventually comes off completely, leaving him to flick out of its constraints and strain pink against his stomach, clearly leaking, impossibly hard.

Kethek is breathing like there’s not enough air in the room. His chest heaves, his eyes shine. His hands are frozen at the rumpled fabric that now bunches over his slightly spread thighs, and he’s staring at him. Lance on display for him, hiding nothing.

When he breathes again, it’s stuttered and shaky, as are his hands which slowly start to trail back up his hips to frame his member between the heels of his palms that press into the divots of his hip bones. His thumbs fan out to stroke the skin there, and the tiny touch is so electrifying. So invigorating, Lance has to close his eyes, so completely overwhelmed by Kethek’s eyes on him. Devouring him.

He swallows, listening to Kethek breath. Heaving air in and out of his own lungs. Waiting for Kethek’s hands to touch him. Feel him. Every ridge, crest and curve. He can’t keep the bashful smile from his lips when Kethek finally manages to stutter out a broken “holy fucking shit” under his breath just before Lance feels his lips crash back into his.

He kisses him as he shimmy’s out of his pants the rest of the way, Kethek helping the fabric along, mouth eager and hungry against him before he pulls back once again, pushing the bunched fabric off of his ankles and onto the floor. He’s back to staring at him, and Lance can’t help but giggle. Overwhelmed with it all.

“Making up for the last time when you avoided looking at me at all costs?” He teases, remembering the mortified expression that had so beautifully flushed Kethek’s face that night he’d been too drunk to realize the advances he was making towards Kethek. Too drunk to stop his impulses, even so early on in their relationship, to bear his soul to the guard who had pledged his life to him without blinking twice.

Kethekek’s response back isn’t teasing though. It doesn’t even attempt to be. It’s blunt, brutally honest and so completely sincere and serious. Just as Kethek always is.

It’s a breath. Awed and mesmerized.

“You’re ethereal.”

Lance preens with the praise, his entire soul glowing with it. His heart racing within it.

“For you.” Lance tells him. And Kethek’s lips are back. On his lips on his chest. Beneath his ribs.

And then he feels it.

Gentle and slow. Cautious and yet so, so eager. Kethek’s warm hand crests over him. Over the plush of his testicles which, much to his slight embarrassment, draw up tight into his touch. And Kethek is marveling. Watching him strain. Pulse. Twitch.

His hand arches up to his shaft, calluses touch against the gentle, thin skin that pulls tight under the rim of the head that drools precum like tears, glinting like diamonds in the low light.

Kethek presses his thumb into the slit, gathering up the sticky substance and spreading it over the flushed pink head.

Lance’s gasp is sharp and stuttering. His head thrown back as he breathes in the sensation, Kethek watching him with those golden eyes. Fascinated. Enraptured.

“How I ever managed to keep myself from you- to not look at you- is beyond me.” He breaths. “You’re magnificent.”

The words are spoken into his lips and Lance can do nothing to stop his smile. To stop the shivers from racing down his arms and into his toes.

He curls forwards into Kethek, where he’s held above him. Into his neck. The burning warmth that lingers there. Hides his face under the wisps of his hair and kisses him. Pecks sweetly at his skin in thanks as Kethek’s hands continue to gently probe and prod, sending jolts of mind numbing pleasure through him, making him dizzy. Breathless.

He can feel Kethekek’s frantic pulse where Lance’s nose hits his neck. Feel him shake.

Kethek is nervous. A suspicion confirmed when he speaks again, his voice breaking.

“I’m not…” he tries once. “I haven’t… done this… before.”

The admission is not one that surprises Lance in any capacity. In fact it’s so expected it’s almost endearing. The fact that Kethek thinks he need, in any way, explain himself in spite of being nothing but perfect and considerate and wonderful. He’s nervous. He wants to do right by Lance. To make it good for him in spite of his lack of experience with a partner.

Kethek’s life was not one that had ever lent itself to prioritizing personal pleasures. Lance understood that intimately. Respected and admired that. It’s what made this… this moment in time so heartbreakingly precious. That Kethek was giving himself this. Giving himself to Lance and thus, finally freeing himself from his own restraints. Letting himself love. For Lance. This was a gift. One so special it makes his head spin. Kethek giving himself to him. Pushing through his trauma to be here with him. To love him.

In that way, Lance knows Kethek has no idea how experienced he is. How naturally his new confidence and strong sense of duty and love fill in the gaps he may see in himself. In his ability to please another. But he asks regardless.

“Please… please tell me what feels good. Tell me how to make you feel good. Anything. Tell me.”

And Lance’s heart swells. Wanting nothing more than to give Kethek that. Show him his pleasure and give him his own. He wants it so bad it aches.

He breaths, the words ragged with the pent up energy and lust that had been building and building in his throat at every touch and caress.

“Start with a kiss.” He tells him.

Kethek kisses him almost immediately and Lance chuckles against his lips, chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Not there.” He tells him. And then he shifts his hips under Kethek’s hand pushing his shaft to stroke under the palm of Kethek’s hand.

“Here.”

Kethek takes his meaning and the look on his face is enough to kill Lance where he lays. He smiles at him. Just a flicker of a grin before he’s focused again. Determined. He nods into his neck, trailing kisses down his chest. Over his nipple, under his ribs, down to the soft, barely there hair that wisps just under his naval, where the head of his member strains.

Kethek does as instructed, and drops his lips down on top of it. Right to the little v that splits down the center of the head from his slit.

He kisses him. Tongue laving ever so slightly at the skin before his lips close and he’s sucking into it.

Lance swears he feels the room shake with the sensation of it. The ground splitting beneath him to swallow him whole.

The next kiss is longer. Wetter. And then, Kethek takes him into his mouth. Soft tongue cradling the head between his lips as he sucks gently.

Lance’s gasp is audible. A whine unlike any he’d previously made. It makes his heart kick and spitter wildly. He moans. Involuntarily, yet deliberate all the same. Letting Kethek know how perfect it is. How perfect he is.

Kethek pulls off with a soft pop, tongue dragging up and down his shaft. He looks to Lance who knows he must look impossibly flush and ruined. But he can’t keep his eyes off of him. Can’t look away. Entranced by the lewdness of it all. The way that Kethek so easily consumes him both by mouth and with his eyes.

He moves then to look back down at his work, fondling and cradling his balls in the palm of his hand as he works his tongue around the head.

Lance keeps himself shaven and smooth. A quality that Kethek is probably considering- hopefully appreciating, as he runs his hands over him, pressing gently.

“So soft.” He hears him marvel, when his mouth is eventually free again. “Beautiful. Every part of you. Perfect.”

He takes one into his mouth, looking up to Lance to confirm that it’s ok.

Lance’s nod may be far too eager, but he means it. Wants it so bad. And Kethek doesn’t disappoint. He wets every surface of Lance with his tongue. Laves and sucks and kisses until he shines with it. Thoroughly worshiped and loved. Lance wants it to last forever. Wants to live the rest of his life here like this, with Kethek kissing his cock.

Eventually Kethek’s hands leave Lance’s balls to trail deeper as he sucks. Over his taint and finally to the crest of his cheeks.

Lance’s throat catches as one finger prods between them and Lance, in a move so filthy, involuntary, and desperate, hikes his legs up, bends himself in half and shifts his hips to rest on Kethek’s lap. The movement pulls Lance’s name from Kethek’s mouth, a temporary loss, as he gives Kethek full access to his hole which he feels flutter under Kethek’s somewhat stunned gaze.

He bites his lip, heart pounding at his boldness in a way it never does. Not with any other partners he’s ever had. Kethek’s eyes turn him into a live wire of anticipation and nerves. And he’s drunk off of it.

Kethek’s stuttered breaths are delicious. It’s exactly what he’d asked for. For Lance to show him what he wants. Respond to what feels good. And Lance has done so. Blatantly. And it’s made them both hazy.

“So you liked that.” He smiles, and Lance nods. Eyes half lidded with the want that sweeps through him.

Kethek settles into the new position, letting up just a bit more and drags Lance up further into his lap, positioning his hips. Lance bends easily, holding his knees to either side of his chest eagerly.

Kethek’s hands round over the curve of his cheeks, slowly sinking into the space between where his entrance is in full view.

“My god, it’s… tight.” Kethek says. Somehow more to himself than anyone else.

Lance chuckles breathily, blush fierce. “I have my oils in the bedside drawer.” Lance tells him, lip still caught between his teeth. “It won’t take much to open me up for you.”

Kethek’s chest rumbles with something at that. A growl maybe. A purr. It seems he expected to produce it just as much as Lance- not at all- but he pushes through the blinking surprise and moves on with his mission.

He thumbs over Lance’s entrance, looking to be losing himself to the tantalizing sight of the ring of muscle flexing beneath his fingers.

Lance can feel for himself how responsive he is. How uncontrollably he yields to Kethek’s touch. He hopes Kethek can see it too. How completely he belongs to him. What exactly Kethek does to him every time they touch. Even if it’s not as blatant as it is now.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kethek breaths. “Incredible. Perfect.” He rambles our praise as he leans forwards, closer, deeper. He’s losing himself to it.

The next kiss rocks Lance to his core. Sends a spark up his gut so sharp he jerks with it. Gasps. Kethek mouths over his opening. Wetting it, making it shine like he’d done to his dick. And Lance yields even more.

Kethek sucks. Prods with his tongue. Bites. Rubbing his thumb in coaxing circles all the while, molding him, opening him so gently. Meticulous in his every movement. Precise and deliberate.

His breaths are shaky even now. Breathed into his skin as he works. Worships. Lance’s hands fist the sheets, unable to do much of anything else as his heart thrashes and pumps as frantic as a storm.

It’s only when he’s nearly dripping that Kethek moves away, just for a moment, to retrieve the oils Lance spoke of, finding them easily and returning to Lance quickly, dropping down back over Lance to kiss him long and deep before continuing.

Lance knows there is nothing new to taste on Kethek’s lips, but it’s thrilling knowing where they’ve been just the same. Filthy. A melding of their body’s that’s somehow deeper than it was before.

Kethek is reluctant to leave his lips again, pressing his forehead into Lance’s as he looks down to his hands and coats them in the oil with care, diverting his attention between his task and peppering Lance’s skin more. Finally the bottle is set aside and Kethek’s hands are back on his ass, kneading into the flesh and pressing over his entrance, harder than before but not enough. It makes Lance gasp. Arch up into Kethek, taught like a bow. Kethek runs his free, un lubed hand down the curve of Lance’s stomach reverently, tracing the bumps of his ribs where they now just out through his chest.

He sinks back from Lance’s lips again, mouth following his hand lower and lower before his mouth latches back onto the tip of Lance’s cock again, it having been left straining and leaking for far too long.

He begins his kisses and sucks again, worshiping the entire length of him and his fingers probe deeper and deeper. Pushing more firmly. Circling more intentionally, until finally. Finally, a finger slips in. Not because Kethek forced it in, but because Lance open up to take it in himself.

They both moan in sharp exhales at the sensation.

The stretch is so pleasant it makes Lance’s head spin.

It’s just one finger. There was no burn. No discomfort. In the past, when he’d rushed things for himself or been quick with other partners. There was usually some first hurdle to jump over. Some length of adjustment before pleasure consumed.

This was different. Kethek had coaxed him open so slowly. So perfectly that Lance’s body just... fell open. Yielded completely. Evidenced by the fact that his knees were so spread apart they nearly hit the mattress beside his shoulders.

He feels Kethek push deeper. Sinking a knuckle a prodding softly with it at his insides. His breaths are ragged as he pulls his lips off of his dick, a question falling from his tongue between breaths.

“Do you- do… hah… do Altean’s have… prostates?”

Lance, in the haze of pleasure, blinks himself out of his daze just enough to look to Kethek. Give him a confused look.

“What’s that?”

Kethek swallows, looking almost embarrassed to answer.

“A pleasure spot…” he tells him. “Inside. Where there are bundles of nerves or… muscles… or-“

“Ah.” Lance breaths, coming to an understanding. “Yes. Three.”

Kethek blinks.

“Three?”

Lance nods, biting his lip.

“You’re fairly close to the first.” He tells him. At the top… just beyond the- ah!” Lance gasps, electric shocks coursing through him.

Kethek found it. Prodded at it. Tapped around it. Committed its shape and location to memory. It leaves Lance reeling.

He hears Kethek let out a breath of a laugh, more awed than anything.

“There?” He asks. Teasing.

“Yes, there, you quiznack.” Lance huffs, a smile stretching onto his lips.

It falls from his face in an instant though as Kethek prods again. Pushing in deeper and curving his finger up.

Lance can’t help but throw his head back. Body shaking with the stimulation, Kethek’s eyes drinking in his every movement.

In what Lance assumes is a desperate attempt by his brain to maintain some semblance of consciousness and clarity in a moment of extreme pleasure, he begins to ramble, words falling out of his mouth in a rush as Kethek massages him from the inside out, fingers moving perfectly.

“The next is deeper.” He breaths. “Further up. It’s just before the third. Which is not a spot, but a sphincter. Like… hah… like a second muscle- like another entrance. I can not reach it with my fingers.

“Sounds to me like it’s meant to be reached by something else. Kethek says, voice knowing.

“Mmmhmm.” Lance breaths. “Something else.”

Kethek hums.

“Then I’ll just get to know this one for now.” He muses. “Is that ok?”

Lance chuckles. “Yes.” He moans. “Yes, god yes.”

This was the learning part, Lance realized. The part where Kethek could not be driven by instinct and personal experience alone. This was officially completely foreign territory. An exploration of anatomy between two different species. This was uncharted and unique and different. Thrilling and exploratory. A galra and an altean. Becoming one. Shedding their labels and learning the depths of each other. Intimately.

Somewhere in his haze Lance realizes that Kethek has added another finger. And then another. The third pushes in gently and the stretch is divine. It rips a moan from his chest, throaty and deep and Kethek’s fingers twitch in response. Lance’s eyes are closed, but he knows the look he’s being given. He knows the hard set of Kethek’s gaze. The slight glow to his golden eyes. The hunger and lust.

And then, because again, Kethek must be attempting to kill him, he feels his tongue back on his dick. Feels Kethek suck him back up as his fingers continue their relentless massage. The combined stimulation is too much- so intense- so perfect it has Lance jerking, sitting up on his elbows, eyes flying open before squeezing back shut.

His whole body quakes with it. He feels his gut clench with the need for release and begins to shake, hips bucking up involuntarily.

“Kethek-“ he breathes out, gasping. Kethek I can’t- I’m gonna-“ He’s not sure he should release. If Kethek wants it yet. If it’s too soon. But Kethek only encourages him. Sucks harber. Sloppier.

“Let go, darling.” He whispers between sucks. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

And that does it almost instantly. The fact that Kethek called him darling. That he wants him to cum before he’s even touched himself once or fully undressed. That his voice is so gravely. So deep. So Kethek. It all tips him over the edge in a fit of euphoria so blinding Lance isn’t sure he’ll be alive when it subsides. Lance lets out a cry, guttural and loud as his orgasam rocks through him. Crashes over him pins him down and locks him up. To encourage the waves of it without mercy.

Kethek holds him through it. Watches white spring free and dribble from his tip, over his hands, and eventually back into his mouth.

His fingers push in and out, rubbing deliberately over the bump inside him. Relentless and somehow gentle all the same. Coaxing. Encouraging. He opens him up further, adds yet another finger as Lance reaches his peak. Let’s his fingers be gripped by Lance’s spasming hole, the wet squelch of oil so delicious it nearly makes Lance’s head go blank.

Kethek leaves no evidence of the mess when Lance slowly but surely comes down, swallowing every release. The only remaining sight being Lance shaking out of control. Gasping like a fish out of water.

Immediately Kethek is there, sliding up and over him again, fingers leaving his hole to instead find his neck. His face, his lips. He kisses the air back into Lance’s lungs. Holds him like he’s made of gold. And Lance is glowing with it. Somewhere high up in the clouds, floating on air with only Kethek’s hands maintaining the tether to the ground.

Lance feels, embarrassingly, like he wants to cry. Overwhelmed with the torrent of love and pleasure that he’s being given. So unbelievably perfect that it makes his heart ache and his head spin. The sting of tears in his eyes comes without him being able to stop it and in the same instant Kethek sees the shine of it between his lids, he stops. Breathless. Concerned. His hands caress and smooth down his skin. His movement loses its fire and urgency.

“Oh- god- was it too much?” He asks, eyes worried. “Did I hurt you?”

Lance shakes his head no, vigorously. Biting his lip and looking into Kethek’s eyes with as much sincerity as he can possibly muster. He gasps to try and get control of his breaths again, so that he can form the words needed to assure Kethek that he was ok. Beyond ok. More ok than he’s ever been.

“You’re perfect.” Is what he manages to tell him.

“I love you. I love you. I love you more than I can possibly ever comprehend. You’re perfect and amazing. I love you so much, Kethek. I love you so much.”

Kethek’s eyes soften. His entire body relaxes. His hands tighten where they hold him and he’s kissing him again before he knows it. Eyes squeezed shut and desperate. Clinging to his lips.

The movement brings them even closer together. Presses them further into each other and Lance remembers, not for the first time, that Kethek has been solely focused on Lance's pleasure this entire time. He feels the hefty firmness of Kethek’s aching length through the undersuit of his armor that somehow still has not been cast off of the bed and he feels a pang of sympathy. Of affection. Of a need to give Kethek everything he’d given him and more.

He pulls away from their kiss to run his fingers through his hair, managing a smile now that his spirit has returned to his body and rooted itself back on the ground.

His hands trail back over Kethek’s abdomen to the hem of the pants and he tugs, indicating his intent clearly.

“These should not still be on you.” He admonishes teasingly.

And Kethek- gods above- gives him a smile so fond and loving that it hurts.

“I had more important things to attend to.” He tells him. But he complies nonetheless, sitting up just enough to take the fabric into his hands and slide it down his thighs.

And it’s exactly what he’d asked for and was an expected course of action but Lance very quickly realizes that he wasn’t mentally prepared for the sight of Kethek totally bare. For the sight of him, literally with no armor. No walls, no nothing.

It sends his gut spiraling and his head spinning. Because he’s seeing him. All of him.

Kethek’s dick hangs heavy between them now as he kicks the pants off of his ankles. He’s bigger than Lance. By a lot. And Lance considered himself to be a relatively well endowed individual. He’s thicker, and maybe only a little bit longer than Lance, who’s slender length and petite head now seem to be so much smaller in comparison. Kethek isn't overly huge. In fact Lance might even assume that for a Galra he isn’t large at all, but it feels like he’s twice Lance’s size and certainly far bigger than any other partner he’s ever had.

It sets his gut to stone and he swallows, feeling overwhelmed and so, incredibly lustful.

“You’re doing quite a bit of staring.” Kethek says suddenly, pulling Lance out of his head. He blinks back up to Kethek’s eyes and finds him with a soft, almost bashful smirk.

Lance lets out a breath of a laugh and swallows.

“You’re no better.” He counters. “I just- I… it’s… you’re gorgeous.”

And honestly? Lance hasn’t yet had the time to consider in full how true that statement is. Kethek is literally a vision. Looking to be sculpted by the gods themselves. It sets Lance’s heart off again in another fit of pounding against his ribs and heat fills him from his toes up to his ears.

He wants to touch and hold and kiss and god, he wants to feel him. He wants it so bad.

Kethek seems to take the cue and bends over Lance once more, blanketing him with his body, pulling him up farther into his lap so that his bottom is nestled against his hips. He presses himself into Lance’s stomach, their lengths sliding together deliciously as Kethek takes him into his arms and holds him against him.

His breaths shake as they settle together, and he shivers over him. Kissing his neck up to his mouth and back.

Sympathetic to the need that Kethek undoubtedly feels, though it seems he’s deemed it unimportant to voice in favor of ravishing Lance some more, Lance makes the first move, dropping his hand between their stomachs to press Kethek’s erection tighter against his belly. Against his own length which, of course, is already starting to strain again. He grips the both of them in his hand, flushing at the feel of it. At the feel of the veins of Kethek’s length pulsing against his fingers. Of the heat that burns there.

Kethek chokes out a gasp at the touch, a small punch of a moan escaping his lips.

To Lance’s delight, he grinds into Lance’s hand, pushing up and back deliberately. Lance watches it all in awe. Watches him leak over his naval and against his dick. Watches the path that Kethek with soon take inside of him. How deep he will go once he’s entered.

Lance wants it so bad.

So he does as Kethek asked once again. He leads the way. Shows him what he wants, and grasps Kethek firmly in his hands before lifting his bum just enough to get Kethek to stroke through his cheeks. The tip of him brushing exhilaratingly over his hole. Exactly where Lance wants him.

He’s still loose and open thanks to all of Kethek’s hard work and he feels himself clench at the feeling of contact, his body aching to take him in. Pull him deep.

Kethek must feel it too because he’s panting. Shaking. Losing all semblance of composure he may have had.

He strokes the head of his dick over Lance’s spread cheeks again. Once… twice… before he looks to Lance, asking permission with his eyes, pressed over his hole, hand holding it steady.

Lance nods, lip caught so firmly between his teeth he’s sure if he bites any harder he’d draw blood.

“Please.” He tells Kethek. “Please.”

And in a breath- one that has them both gaping with sensation, mouths falling open and eyes squeezing shut to just- feel it, Kethek breaches him. Lance’s body basically pulls him in, clenching around him, accepting him so eagerly that the pleasure of it all turns his mind white.

Kethek sinks, and sinks, and sinks, and sinks, deeper, thicker, filling him so completely.

It somehow feels both like it lasts a lifetime and passes in seconds when Kethek’s hips finally meet the back of Lance’s thighs, fully seated inside of him.

Lance clenches again without abandon, holding him there, and it makes Kethek gasp.

“Oh my god…” Lance hears him breath, the words soft and garbled. He tilts his head back up into Lance’s lips and bites. Moaning as Lance clenches again while he adjusts to Kethek inside of him, panting.

“So good.” Kethek breaths against his lips. “You feel so good- so perfect Lance. My god, you’re perfect.”

Lance smiles, adoring the way that Kethek is losing himself. Thrilled by this new side of him- open and desperate and feeling.

“Take what you need.” Lance whispers finally, a breath against his lips. “Take me apart. I’m yours. Don’t you dare hold back.”

And Lance knows. He knows before the hunger in Kethek’s eyes goes from a flickering flame to a raging fire. He knows before the soft hands at his hips grip tighter, fingers bruising. He knows before Kethek breathes a growl so primal and eager and enthusiastic that the mood has changed. That Kethek was falling deeper into his urges. He knows that Kethek won’t hold back at all. Knows he’s about to be fucked within an inch of his life, and it’s so completely and utterly thrilling.

Lance can see all his scenting starting to finally make him lucid with his own pleasure. He sees, fascinatingly, Kethek’s canines sharpen. The hair on his arms raise, the gold of his eyes glow. But he looks desperate with it. Looks weak with it. Like one bore second that he’s not moving inside of Lance will kill him.

But Lance’s final words of permission send him right over the edge and before he knows it, somehow Kethek is pressed in even deeper before he’s pulling out, hips stuttering only once before he’s back in. He sets a desperate rhythm, grinding and shaking as each thrust punches out a breathy moan.

And Lance is gone. His body just- falls apart. Melts into the sheets. Puts him in a near trance of a sheer outpouring of pleasure that he’s not even breathing for the first relentless thrusts that Kethek pushes into him. He’s drunk on the feeling of Kethek kissing him through it. Holding him. Adoring him. Ravishing and loving and worshipping him.

In no time at all though, his breaths return, enough to allow him to scream as Kethek finds his second spot.

A burst of electricity at the abandon with which Kethek now pounds at it, angle devastatingly perfect, has him screaming out his pleasure. He’s not even in his mind enough to spare a single doubtful thought to just how soundproof his room is. Logically he knows that it’s built like a bunker and the sound of a gunshot was even unlikely to pass through the threshold of his closed doors and out into the hall, but logic was the furthest thing from Lance’s mind. He simply could not have controlled himself either way.

Kethek, of course, takes note of his increased enthusiasm and likely comes to the conclusion that he was close to Lance’s third spot, because soon enough he’s adjusting himself to try and get deeper. Pulling Lance down onto his hips, searching for that next ring of muscle.

There were not many partners who he’d taken that had managed. And oftentimes, that was simply just about length and not to the fault of any of his lovers. It was deep. And Lance had had no expectation, nor did he ever have the expectation, that he would reach it. He didn’t need to. It was already perfect. Mind breakingly so.

So when Lance feels the head of Kethek’s dick graze over the tight bundle of muscle. He swears his heart falls out of his chest.

His eyes fly open, his mouth hanging slack, but no noise escapes him. He’s choked with it. Stunned by pleasure.

Kethek’s eyes flash with what Lance can only describe as excitement. Triumph.

“Is that…” he breathes.

Lance nods, eyes screwed shut.

“Yes- yes- yeah- oh my god”

Kethek huffs out a breath, and then, with new determination, he’s thrusting deeper. With intension. And Lance feels every push against that deepest part of himself. It’s a burning pleasure. It numbs him at the same time that it makes him feel every sensation ten fold.

And then… Kethek is pushing through. And just like that, everything falls apart. All their restraint. All their composure. It vanishes with their new lack of abandon. Lance cries out his pleasure as Kethek looses himself to his own, feeling like Lance is a vice around him, refusing him exit. Locking him there inside him.

He’s not sure how many more thrusts Kethek manages through that final ring of muscle. But it doesn’t take long at all for him to gasp out a desperate plea, his head burrowing into the crook of Lance’s neck as he pounds into him.

“Lance.” He breathes. And god Lance loves the sound of his name on his lips like this. Loves the vulnerability. The lust evadent in every letter. He revels at the memory of the first time Kethek called him by his name rather than his title. All the ways in which Kethek had said it. Admonishingly, exhaustedly, affectionately, angrily, fearfully. Lance loves them all. But this…. This is unlike anything he could have ever expected. Kethek, who’s emotions were a rare and precious thing to witness, was whimpering his name. Needy and desperate. It makes his head spin. His heart throb. Knowing that this Kethek- the one who lets himself feel so fully and love so openly- is not for anyone but him. For Lance and Lance alone.

“Lance I can’t-“ Kethek rasps. “I can’t last much longer.”

“Don’t.” Lance breathes. “Let it go. God Kethek… don’t hold back.”

And Kethek doesnt. He doesn’t dare. Instead he goes harder, thrusts deeper, and finally, finally, with a ragged, whimpering moan, he slams home, head squeezed inside of Lance where it pushes through just beyond that final ring of muscle.

He’s shaking almost violently as he cums, the arms bracketing him lowering him to slump against Lance’s chest as he shakes with his release. And it’s all of this- the sheer torrent of feeling and pleasure that consumes him that pushes out a second release from Lance at the same time. With barely any stimulation on his lenght other than the pressure of Kethek’s lower belly pushing down onto him, he cums again, painting his and Kethek’s torsos white where he’s trapped between their bodies. And it feels like the heavens are singing. Like the stars are aligning and everything in the universe stops, in this moment, to tell him that nothing I more perfect than how he feels right now.

That there are no two people in this universe more perfect for each other. That everything about this… everything… is right.

Lance isn’t sure how much time it actually takes for them to come back to their senses. Lost too deep in the haze of pleasure to adequately comprehend the passage of time. The first sensation he experiences with a sound mind is Kethek’s lips, pressing under his jaw. Soft and warm and gentle. Reverant.

It makes Lance shiver, shocking him back to his senses, clearing the fog.

“Oh my god.” He breathes, and gods above, Kethek wuisnacking huffs out a breathy little chuckle, right against his neck. It sends him spiraling all over again.

“Fuck.” Is the only word of consolation he can offer.

He, with a significant amount of effort and a little grunt, lifts himself back up onto his elbows, moving slowly, and blinks down at Lance.

They both remain like that for several long moments, catching their breaths and just- looking at each other. They weren’t drunk on pleasure anymore- enough so that the full magnitude of what they’d just done was finally setting over their shoulders. All that it implied. Everything it meant. For them. For their situation.

One thing that was for sure? Everything had changed now. Irrevocably. Completely. Lance and Kethek were no longer coy, tiptoeing, pining souls kept just at an arms length. This was love. Lust. This was a full fledged, deep, powerful relationship. They were now lovers. Mates. They were intertwined like vines, brown to be wrapped so intricately into one another that separating them would mean ripping them apart.

Kethek coughs a breath, shaking with a chill as he shifts and they both feel the twinge of overstimulation from where they’re still connected, Kethek going soft in the cradle of Lance’s soft insides.

“Sorry.” He whispers to him, lips nearly brushing Lance’s. He gives a wary smile and Lance returns it, knowing exactly what he’s feeling.

“You’re really good at sex.” Lance says dumbly, the words falling from his mouth before he has the sense to stop him.

But Kethek laughs, loud and short, a bashful grin warming his features in a way so beautiful, Lance wants to pull him in closer and plaster it with kisses.

“I mean it.” Lance tells him. “I think I just died and came back to life.”

And Kethek. Adorably, hides his face in Lance’s neck again as he tells him. “No, I think that’s what you did to me.”

Lance smiles, chuckling breathlessly, heart still hammering as he threads his fingers through the back of Kethek’s hair, heart so unbelievably fond.

The implied “we have to do that again.” Hangs palpably in the air. Right along with the realization that yes, they both wanted this to continue and, my god, the field day that would ensue if any breath of this became known to anyone but them.

“We really should clean up.” Kethek mumbles then, sounding almost sad about it.

“God, yeah.” Lance realizes. “Any Galra within a mile would know I’m yours, huh.”

Lance feels Kethek stiffen at that, his heart thumping against Lance’s.

“God- Lance- he breathes out shakily, pulling up from Lance’s neck to look him in the eye, his face impossibly flushed. “You can’t just- say things like that.”

Lance laughs.

“You just fucked me like a man starved and THAT'S what you can’t handle.” He teases.

Kethek smiles at him, cresting a gentle hand over his cheek, but his face is falling into a much more serious expression quickly after.

“Seriously though.” He tells him. “There could be anyone with scenting ability in this castle that we might not expect. We gotta be extremely careful if we don’t-“

“Kethek, Kethek!” Lance shushes, cutting him off. “I know! It’s ok! We’ll be ok. I promise. I’ll do everything I need to do to cover it up. I’ll burn incense. I’ll take a bath and a shower and another shower. I’ll cover myself head to toe with lotions and perfumes. We’ll be ok.”

Kethek lets out a nervous sigh but nods, continuing to smooth his thumb up and down the high points of Lance’s cheek.

“Would there be any problems with you joining me for a bath?” Lance asks eventually, a smile pulling at his lips.

And Kethek flushes again, but not in a way that seems shy. He’s smiling again, happy.

“That could be arranged.” He tells him. “But in the morning we should probably each shower alone.”

“That’s perfect.” Lance smiles. “I didn’t schedule any meetings until the late afternoon.”

Kethek raises an eyebrow.

“You planned for this?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for exactly this…. I just- you know- wanted to- he prepared. Just in case.”

Kethek chuckles incredulously, expression so, so, so fond.

“You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. And it holds both the admonishing tone of Kethek, the Galran soldier tasked to protect his life, and Kethek the attentive lover, fond and loving. An intoxicating mix of everything Kethek is and has been to Lance. A fully painted picture. And Lance absolutely loves it, their metamorphosis complete. The hard exteriors gone, replaced with something soft snd beautiful and new. Something somehow stronger than before in spite of how delicate it feels. How much it feels like he has to protect it.

Kethek helps him, on wobbly legs, to rise out of the bed and out onto the floor, out of their little world of love and pleasure and back into reality.

When Lance stumbles from the pleasurable ache still sizing his limbs, Kethek scoops him up to carry him to the tub and Lance watches him warm the water before dropping them both inside.

He melts into Kethek as he washes him clean and doesn’t separate from him once until they eventually make it back to Lance’s bed.

For the first time since this all started, Kethek doesnt leave him when the night concludes. He doesn’t even try to. Instead he lowers himself back into the sheets, wraps his arms around Lance and falls asleep cuddled into him. Holding him.

Lance, for the first time, gets to spend a whole night with him. Head tucked into the crook of his neck, cozy in the cocoon of his warmth.

For the first time he’s able to pretend that this was allowed. That they were together. Unashamed and unhindered. That this was not his bed, but theirs. That this was not his room but theirs. That everything that was Lance’s was Kethek’s and that nothing they shared had to be hidden.

He falls asleep, cradled on Kethek’s arms, able to pretend that he belonged there.

________

Lance’s eyes were heavy with sleep the next morning when he woke up. He moved to stretch and rub them open when he was suddenly reminded of the presence of a body next to him, warm and comforting. The ache in his bum and thighs only solidifying the realization further as memories of the night before suddenly flooded hazily into his head.

He smiled and let the heat radiating from Kethek, who he was nestled into him as he breathed in the sent of him, still surprisingly latent with sex. Musky and hot.

It was sweet, the way Kethek was curled into his back. Lance listened to the sounds of his breaths. Reveled in the weight of his arms around his bare waist under the covers as he stared sleepily out at the window where the suns were rising.

He’d just had sex with Kethek. His guard, Kethek. A Galran. A soldier. He’d just had amazing, mind melting, insanely satisfying and romantic sex with Kethek.

Kethek had been… everything… and more. Somehow a perfect mix of soft, and brutal. Gentle and insatiable. Just thinking about the way he kissed him. The way he touched him. The look in his eyes as he finally, finally let himself go and gave everything to him. It made Lance’s stomach swoop, his breaths growing shallow at the memory of the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

They’d finally crossed that forbidden barrier and now… there was no going back. He loved him.

He loved him more than he was able to comprehend.

And with that, Lance couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted Kethek. He wanted to smile and kiss him awake. To see him blink his eyes open. To see him, the most vulnerable and unguarded he’s ever been. To run his hands over the muscle carved from years of discipline and strength. The years that molded him into the man he is now, in this moment, holding Lance in his bed.

Lance let the smile grow on his face before finally turning to face him, heart thumping with joy.

For a minute, Lance’s brain lagged as he tried to figure out what exactly he was looking at, trying to convince himself that it was his brain playing tricks on him, waiting for the image in front of him to change back to what it should be. But he kept staring, and it stayed exactly the same.

Terror rippled through his core, the realization sinking in.

There was a stranger in his bed.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but before he could even think to process it, he was screaming, and stumbling out of the bed away from the stranger, grabbing the sheets around his hips with him and plunging his hand into his bedside drawer to pull out a gun.

It was instinctual and hectic as his survival mode kicked into full gear. Usually he was pretty self assured, usually he let himself think that nothing bad was going to happen, that they would stop the Galra before they managed to have him killed. But even when pretending to be unconcerned, he never entered or stayed in a room without a weapon. And in that frenzy, all he knew was that a stranger was in his bed, he had just slept with a Galra, and he was completely exposed and vulnerable.

He cursed himself vehemently, mentally punching himself for being so stupid. For letting his guard down at all.

The stranger stirred abruptly at the sound of Lance’s scream, their groggy eyes still drooped from sleep squinting in Lance’s general direction.

Their entire body awoke with a start as soon as they saw the gun Lance had pointed at them. Lance hoped that whoever this was knew that he never missed a shot. His face hardened with seriousness and intimidation - as much as he could manage while being only dressed in a sheet, his chest rising and falling as he panted from the sheer shock of it all.

The stranger looked petrified, stumbling over his words, and taking a defensive stance before getting out a full sentence.

“Lance! they said, woah... hey, what- wh- what's going on, why are you…?”

The stranger glanced over his shoulder as though whatever Lance was aiming at was behind them, turning back only when they realized nothing was there.

They stared at him, utterly terrified and confused. Shifting to get up, they halted immediately as Lance flexed his arm tighter.

“Don't fucking move or I'll shoot you through the head.” Lance said. His voice rigid and threatening.

Lance got a good look at the stranger. They had light pinkish skin smooth and hairless, much like his own, but no markings anywhere that would peg him as Altean. His hair was dark, and his eyes were big and deep, a grayish blue, with white surrounding them and black centers. His ears were rounded and small too, as though someone had shaved the tops of them off.

The stranger shrunk back. “Lance…” he stuttered. “I don't understand-“

“Who the hell are you, What did you do with my guard!” Lance shouted.

The stranger blinked. … “What??” He asked. “What do you mean Lance, I'm-“

“Kethek!” Lance continued, voice loud. “What did you do with him, where is he!”

“Lance, I'm right here!!” The stranger said. “It's me! I didn't go anywhere I'm-“

Suddenly the stranger stopped, a look even more terrified than before washing over his face. He blanched, his eyes going wide and Lance was pretty sure he could see him visibly start to shake. He looked as though the world was crumbling around him.

“Oh my god…” he muttered. “Oh my fucking-“

Slowly, he lifted his hand to his face and fell completely still, blinking at them, completely horrified.

He let out a shaky breath, letting his eyes travel to the rear of him. As though he was waking up in a new body that didn't belong to him.

“Oh my GOD!”

Stumbling out of the bed suddenly, he rushed to Lance’s vanity, and Lance could practically see his heart drop, the color draining from his face.

He let out a noise somewhere between a scream and a moan as he stared at his reflection shaking his head. “No fucking way- no fucking- oh my GOD.”

He turned then, quickly to face Lance, who met his eyes with his horrified ones.

Lance straightened his arm further tracking his movements with the gun but his face was far less stony, and more confused, his eyebrows drawn together and quirked up over his wide eyes.

“Lance.. he repeated... please.. listen... I- you should have never found out like this... fuck, I should have never done this. This is exactly why I didn't, this should have never- oh my god Lance please, just listen.” The stranger rambled, words hectically falling from his mouth.

And then, in an action so mind breaking and confusing it makes Lance’s head spin to the point of nearly fainting, the stranger takes a step forward and purple consumes their skin from their face, down over their arms and chest. Their ears grow into points, their eyes glaze over with gold.

“It’s me.” Kethek tells him.

“It's Kethek.”

“I’m Kethek.”

Chapter Text

“She’s gone, Keith.”

The words ring through his mind like echos. A ghost of a voice, so tied up in time and memories that it no longer can truly be said to belong to the person who’d once voiced them. Instead it's a loose tangle of sensation and pitch that tie themselves to the sentence.

“She’s gone, Keith. But she loved you. So much. Don’t you ever forget that, son. She loved you.”

Everything he associates with his father is similarly fuzzy. An amalgamation of qualities specific to him but vague in detail. Often reduced to emotions rather than true images and sounds.

Sad eyes. A soft voice, thick with the twang of the south. Shoulders akin to the size of mountains. At least to his toddler self who no doubt looked upon them as a small child and saw, eyes wide with wonder, a giant. A man who, like the mountains, would always remain out of reach. An idea in his mind rather than a sensation under his feet and in his hands.

He knows his father never intended for that to be the case. He knows that he probably would have wanted to tell him about her one day, just… when they both were ready. He can imagine the inability he must have felt to be able to explain to his son that his mother was not of the world he knew. That his mother, as unfathomable and cruel as it might seem on the surface, especially to a small boy, had duties larger than being with her own son. That she had to go. To fight. To protect him.

But he’d never gotten the chance, and Kethek grew up without him and without any notion of who his mother was. Only the knowledge that she was “gone.” That and a small blade engraved with a symbol he didn’t recognize.

His father had told him, just weeks before the end of his life, that his mother had left the blade for him. He’d promised to tell him about it one day.

Yet another thing he’d never gotten the chance to do.

He didn’t know at the time the cruel irony of the fact that these were the memories that came back to him in vivid technicolor after being tied down and shocked with a dark energy that not even the Galra yet knew the applications of. At the request of their witch, he was the test subject to determine it.

The irony of the fact that these memories were his answer to everything even though he’d had no way of knowing. The irony of the fact that when they’d thrown him back in the cells with Shiro each night, barely alive and lucid, that the Blade he’d kept concealed on his person held all the answers to why the witch had wanted him as her test subject. The irony that not even she knew what made his quintessence so unique when the answer was strapped to his thigh.

The one thing he knew for certain though was that he wouldn’t be standing here in front of a terrified Lance having just changed forms if it hadn’t been for those experiments in captivity. The Blades’ claimed that it had destabilized his quintessence. A theory that now held some validity, knowing what it had the capacity to do to entire planets now that Hagar had perfected it. She called it the Komar. In its trial phases, the ones he’d been subject to, it didn’t drain him of his quintessence like it did to those planets, but poisoned it. Igniting dormant parts of his genetics… creating instability.

Regardless, whatever she'd done to him nearly killed him each time. The pain he was helpless but to lay there and endure was unlike anything he’d ever come to experience. It was as painful as the look in Shiro’s eyes when Keith eventually collapsed back into their cell each night, convulsing and wheezing from the lingering effects of the witch's dark magic.

The devastation, fear, and heartbreak he saw in Shiro was its own torture. The concern he had for Keith in spite of the fact that they’d taken more than half his arm and made him suffer through pain and experimentation that no doubt was equally as severe as his own.

Unlike his fathers voice, Shiro’s is still tangible, one he can grasp in his hands. His last tether to him. It’s the only thing still strong and unfaded though a part of him, as much as he treasures knowing his voice and remembering him so vividly, wishes that he didn’t. Because the voice Shiro uses in these memories is broken. Rough from his earlier screams of agony. It aches with sadness and pain.

“I’m right here Keith. It will pass. Just ride it out.” And then eventually, the fateful; “We need to get out of here. I have a plan.” that came that final night after Keith recovered from his convulsions and thrown up all of the little food he’d been given.

He remembers the shaky press of Shiro’s remaining human hand to his shoulder, unsettlingly cold through the thin fabric of his prisoner's uniform. An effort to extend comfort that really just ended up being a sign on the growing list Keith had been keeping of every bit of evidence that Shiro was dying with him. That he was not as ok as he tried to seem in spite of everything.

Shiro had always had a terrifying ability to hide his pain. But he’d known regardless that despite the look of strength Shiro somehow managed to retain, that neither of them were fit for a jail break.

But Shiro had looked at him more seriously than he’d ever seen him in his life as he said it.

“If we don’t try, we’ll die here, Keith.” He’d said. “I’d take the chance of dying in an effort to escape any day rather than sitting here waiting to die tomorrow in the ring. They’re gearing up to have us fight each other- we both know it, and I won’t be able to get away with injuring you like I did with Matt. I’ll kill myself before I let them try and get us to kill each other. I won’t let them turn us into the monsters they put us in there with. I want to die trying to get us home.”

Neither of them had known that they’d already succeeded in at least turning Keith into a monster. And in the end, when Shiro's death had triggered his first transformation, he was glad, in a morbid way, that Shiro still didn’t know. That he never had to look upon him, with fear in his eyes, as his eyes glazed over and his teeth grew sharp. He was glad that Shiro didn’t have to hear the guttural growl and screaming cries he’d released that had almost been forceful enough to knock him unconscious. Seeing the blood pooling around Shiro’s head and the dead look in his eyes had been an emotional trauma- a pain so visceral that it was enough to force the shift.

He wasn’t sure if it was luck or irony or some twisted combination of the two that he'd still had his mother’s blade on him after all this time- after all he’d been through. That he had risked losing it forever when he’d pulled it on the galra who’d killed Shiro. That the undercover blades had only taken notice of him and cared to step in because they’d recognized it.

He’d carried it on him, hidden in a holster, for all his life having no idea what its significance was. He’d searched tirelessly for its meaning for years only to have it all unfold in less than a day. At the cost of his best friends life. At the end of the life Keith had known. At the start of what would be years of struggle and war. Somehow his mother’s blade had caused all of that. The Blades recognized it and stepped in. They’d thought he’d stolen it until they saw him shift. If he hadn’t, they probably would have let him die.

And every day since, he’d had to battle away the thoughts that told him it would have been easier if he had. If he and Shiro had gone out together. Died right there together, side by side.

But if he’d died that day he wouldn’t be here now. He wouldn’t have met Lance. Wouldn’t have been able to protect him. He wouldn’t have fallen for him.

And even though everything was screwed up, and he seemed to only keep digging himself a deeper hole, he still, in spite of everything, couldn’t convince himself that it wasn’t worth it.

He tells this all to Lance. About his human father. His estranged galran mother. About Shiro.

He tells him anything he can think to tell him in a desperate outpouring of explanations, sparing no detail in the hopes that somehow it will be enough. That Lance would somehow understand and not assume the worst

Lance was very clearly confused. Confused and panicked and scared. He gripped the bedsheet around him like a lifeline as he stared, wide eyed at Kethek, scanning him up and down, jaw hanging open and face completely shocked.

The gun he'd had pointing at him now hangs at his side where it dangles from Lance's slack hand. In the surprise of Kethek’s transformation, he’d almost dropped it, flailing slightly before gathering enough of his bearings to keep it from clattering dangerously to the floor.

And now he’s just staring, taking him all in.

It lasts for several long ticks, the two of them seemingly stuck in a stalemate, neither making any sudden moves. And then Kethek sees it, the reddening of Lance’s face, the shine growing to fill his eyes. The way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to keep what Kethek assumes is a sob from escaping his mouth.

Kethek feels horrible, even more so when Lance finally closes his eyes and tears fall down his cheeks.

He sucks in a shaky breath before he opens them again, watery and stained red and with a final breath of air, he wipes at his eyes.

“You’re a shape shifter…” he croaks, his voice wobbly, and then again, as though to confirm it for himself. To cement it. “You’re a shape shifter.”

“A halfbreed.” Kethek tells him. “Cursed by the Komar… to have my emotions control my perception of self. I toggle between an image likened to my torturers and an image likened to a painful past. Between what feels to me like the difference between weakness and protection. Protection being a form that I can only achieve under a certain amount of distress and hurt. A galran form and a human form.”

“It's why my teeth sharpen… and my eyes glow… when I feel intensely.”

“It’s… it’s the root of why I keep such a tight rein on my emotions… Keeping myself in enough pain so that my emotions are always severe enough that even if I could change… I wouldn’t.”

“It’s why I kept myself from you. Probably the biggest of all the reasons… but it’s… it’s why I kept turning you down. Because you made me happy. I saw the potential to love you… and that put my very identity at risk. One that’s protected me from the galra. One that's protected you.”

The first bit of silence passes between them after what, to Kethek, feels was perhaps too much of an overwhelming onslaught of words. And with the way Lance is looking at him, the frantic beating of his heart only gets worse.

“So that’s all this is.” Lance asks. “You can shape shift. You’re not- I’m not- you aren’t- haven’t been plotting to kill me.”

He laughs, but there’s no smile on his face. No humor in it at all. He just looks broken.

It makes Kethek’s stomach drop. Dreaded by the insinuation that this was the first conclusion Lance had come to upon seeing him, not as Kethek, in his bed. That it was all a plot that he’d conjured. That he’d coaxed him into his most vulnerable state, naked and trusting, completely unarmed both physically and mentally, only to take him by surprise the moment he least expected it.

It makes Kethek sick with guilt and desperate to help Lance understand. To banish his fears from his mind.

“Lance, I haven’t been in that form in… in decaphoebs.” He tells him, his own voice unsteady as his heart races, begging him to explain himself. To earn back Lance’s trust. To wipe that look from his face and keep him from ever looking at him like this ever again.

“I- I wasn’t even sure I could change back anymore. I hadn’t been able to since-“

Kethek pauses… his heart squeezing uncomfortably at the memories.

He debates for a tick if he should open the particular can of worms that punctuate the seeming end of his ability to alter his appearance and concludes in that same tick that this exact hesitance is what brought them here in the first place. Lance deserved to know.

So he swallows down every nagging impulse that keeps his mouth shut and his mind free of pain and lets it go.

“Not since Vex”. He finishes. “After he died… I was never able to… to switch.”

Lance, still standing defensively, looked at him with such intensity that his gaze nearly hurt to return.

“You did it pretty easily just now…” he counters, voice defensive, but still weak. Presumably hoping to catch Kethek’s bluff. To affirm that he, in fact, was still not to be trusted. To make one last attempt to shield his heart from the pain that would come from the fact that Kethek had kept this from him. That Kethek hadn’t trusted him to know.

And Kethek feels like his heart is literally in his throat, his own tears threatening to surface. He feels himself shaking and does whatever he can to gain back some composure enough to explain why it had been so easy. An explanation he only just became aware of in this moment.

“Because I’m terrified.” He tells him, finally understanding for himself the answer to the question he’d been seeking answers for ever since that fateful day when he’d ended Vex’s life.

Lance’s face softens slightly at that, a sadness filling his eyes. Sympathy, though hesitant, coating his features and dulling his sharp edges.

“It’s tied to your emotions.” Lance says, recalling what Kethek had insinuated moments earlier. And Kethek nods.

“When I’m afraid… when I’m angry… when I’m feeling anything particularly intense, this is the form I took. That’s how it was at the beginning at least… I would move back and forth between the two almost erratically after my first shift. I was 18. After that, I had to learn to keep my emotions in check. To monitor them. Remain neutral. Until…. until Vex. After him… pain was all I felt. Anger. Rage. At myself. At the war. The circumstances that led to that day and bred the result. I completely lost my ability to feel anything but grief and anger.”

And Lance, while still not yet completely bare of his mistrust, now looks at him brokenly.

“Until last night.” Lance concludes.

Kethek just swallows, looking down at his feet.

"Last night I let myself love you. I let myself seek out the happiness you give me, and for the first time… in a long time… I freed myself of pain… enough to shift. Right up until I woke up with a gun pointed at me… then I was scared… devastated… and I switched back."

Lance’s mind seems to be spinning at all that he’s coming to understand. The implications of it all.

His eyes are full to bursting, surely clouding his sight with tears. But Lance doesn't blink them away. In many ways he’s frozen, just looking at Kethek. Kethek, in his galran form, coming to understand the full image of the man he’d fallen in love with. Coming to understand that this galran he’d come to know over the past several phoebs, and the human who had awoken with him in his bed are one and the same.

Kethek swallows, unsure of what else he can do. What else he can say. All this time he thought he could have lost his ability to transform after Vex. Was too afraid to even attempt it. Completely unsure of how to attempt it if he tried. Now… now he realizes why.

His guilt and his pain had been too great. Too dominant. His hatred of himself so severe that it was literally impossible for him to shift. And it’s this realization that makes him realize something else too.

“I think if I tried… to shift back and forth freely now… I could.” Kethek says eventually, contemplative.

“It's been a long time since I’ve had something to channel good emotion through. Something- or someone that could calm me. Bring me peace… or happiness, and… that's what I feel with you. I think that's why I changed in the first place…. Because last night was… was the first time in…. A very long time that I’d ever felt so… happy and safe.”

Lance’s expression fractures, eyes filled with more tears at Kethek’s words.

“I let myself go completely. Lowered my guard completely. I… let myself love you… and I shifted because of it.”

“But I don't think it has to be that extreme every time…. At least, not anymore. I think… honestly I just… I forgot how to be happy… how to love… and now… now I remember. Now I know how again.”

He blinks then, seemingly considering something, and then, with concentration in his eyes, Lance witnesses, for the second time, Kethek shift.

Lance’s breath catches in his throat as the purple hue of his skin and the short fur of his arms seems to melt away, exposing a pale, milky flesh beneath. The gold of his eyes fades white, irises, so dark they nearly look black, becoming visible. His ears round out, shrinking down from a point to a curve and his markings fade.

Right before Lance’s eyes, Kethek becomes human, looking like Pidge. Looking like the person he’d apparently been for 18 consecutive years of his life before everything changed.

Kethek knows Lance’s eyes don’t leave him when he closes his own to take a breath, breathing in slowly as he prepares for what comes next, the only thing pushing him forward being the conviction that Lance deserves to know. Should have known long before all of this mess. He deserves to know, and Kethek promised himself he wouldn’t leave out any details.

“My name is Keith.” He tells him. Or… it was. In this form… my human form… I am Keith. That was my name… before the Galra captured me. Before the Blade of Marmora took me in. I received the name Kethek after the trials of Marmora. It’s a test… a battle to prove my lineage and confirm my intentions. It’s how I’m able to transform my blade… and it’s what gave me the name Kethek.”

“But my name… the one given to me at birth… is Keith.”

What felt like a long and agonizing amount of time passed as Lance just stares at him, his expression terribly unreadable. Kethek - now Keith shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly Lance took a step towards him. His prodding eyes not moving away from him for a second. With just a few more steps in his direction, Lance was standing incredibly close to Keith. His face only a few inches away from him, as he stared into his eyes.

A hand Keith hadn't noticed came up to gently caress his ear, Lance’s fingers delicately sliding down the rounded top of it curiously, then down to the corner of his jaw and then to his chin, making him tilt his head back slightly.

They stayed like that for a bit, Lance staring him down before taking his hand and running it through his hair, inspecting it. Fingers gliding over the curve of his ear again from his head. His nose wrinkles ever so slightly.

“Such ugly ears…” he said, a fowl look on his face.

Keith thought he should have felt more uncomfortable, but there was something so gentle behind Lance’s touches that it was almost soothing. The teasing in his tone reassuring him a little more as well. Keith recognizes it for what it is. An attempt to lighten the mood, even though he can’t seem to ease the twisted expression on his face or the tightness in his stance. But he’s trying nonetheless. For both of them. He’s trying to understand. To push away the fear.

Lance’s hand reached to touch his collarbone, fingers so gently cresting over the ridge and into the curve of his neck. His eyes wide, red rimmed and imploring. Keith can see the thoughts plaguing him. See them pass over his gaze in a blur as he explores. Rediscovers and connects.

His hand falls still then, eyes trailing up slowly to his, their blue so vibrant and sharp in a way that never fails to take Keith’s breath from his lungs. It’s no different now, Lance staring at him, in the body of someone he didn't know. Someone he didn’t fall in love with. Someone completely new. Looking for him somewhere under the new appearance.

He takes in a breath, his lips pressing together and the hand grazing over his heart presses deeper into his skin, now smooth without the purple fuzz of his galran form.

He sighs, his eyes dropping back down to his hand. Keith knows he feels how fast his heart is beating. The quick thrum a dead giveaway to his anxiety. His distress. The amount of regret and panic that is bubbling up inside him at the fact that Lance didn’t deserve this kind of a blindside. He deserved so much more than to be lied to and deceived.

Lance lets out one final breath and then his second hand is sliding its way, gently, into the one that hangs at Keith’s side.

He squeezes when their palms meet and his head drops further. Further into Keith’s chest.

“Keith.” he says then, looking at him like he's looking at him for the very first time.

“Yes.” Keith replies, voice like a whisper, and suddenly before Keith even realized what was happening, Lance’s lips were against his.

The kiss was slow and experimental. Delicate but filled with a passion that was different than what it had been before. It was comforting... loving. And it warms Keith to the core.

They pull away for air, their faces flushed and breathy, looking at each other.

“It is you…” Lance whispers breathlessly.

Keith’s body quakes with relief, feeling Lance relax and loose the stiffness in his limbs against him. He nods, taking his hand in his. It is. I promise.

Lance gives a small smile, his eyes shiny with unshed tears of relief.

“I should have known...” He was on the verge of crying now, the tears in his eyes growing larger. “You're just as pretty.”

It was another attempt to lighten the mood. Another playful tease that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I should have seen it... I should have known.. I'm sorry... he whispers.”

The hand on his shoulder finds its way around his back and then he’s hugging him. Squeezing him. Holding him close enough that Keith can feel him shaking.

Keith’s heart swoops with sympathy. With a sadness he wishes he could remedy for Lance somehow.

“I was so scared.” He hears Lance breathe into his shoulder. His voice unsteady. “But it’s you. It’s really you.”

Keith nods, letting his nose nudge into the soft hair on top of Lance’s head, the sweet juniberry scent that clung to him filling his nose.

“I’m so sorry Lance.” He tells him. “I never meant to do this to you. I was waiting… waiting for the right time and I-“

Lance shakes his head, silencing him, squeezing him tighter in his arms.

“No.” He mumbles against him. “This is- I get it. I understand that this is not something you could have just- I get why. Of course I understand why… l just- it’s ok. You don’t- I don’t care. I’m just. I’m glad you didn’t actually leave.”

Keith bristles at that, going still. And then he realizes that Lance is shaking- sniffling and crying into his chest and Keith’s heart plummets.

He pulls him away from his chest by his shoulders and meets Lance’s blotchy, tear stained face with concern.

“Lance, what-”

“I should be the one apologizing!” Lance whimpers then, curling in on himself. “After everything, I really- I really thought you- I actually believed you left me- that you had left some stranger in my bed to kill me- I didn’t even- I just- so quickly cast aside every single quiznacking truth about you to believe that you would ever-“

Lance chokes on the last word, his lips quivering and Keith’s heart breaks.

“I’m so sorry.” Lance whimpers, looking up to him with painfully glistening eyes. “I try to behave as though I'm not worried, but I was terrified that it had finally happened. That I was caught and going to be killed. And I'm so sorry.”

“Lance, don’t you dare-“ Keith almost balks. “Are you kidding me?! You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong at all! What the hell were you supposed to think?! I don’t- I don’t even know what I would have done if someone had put me in your position. I am the only person at fault here. I should have told you on that very first night. At the ball- I should have just-“

“Why didn’t you?!” Lance asks then, cutting him off. His cries heavier as he looks up to Keith with an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have understood!”

The answer, devastatingly, does not need to be said. They both know it. They both understand that the answer has been stark between them this entire time, unacknowledged and left to fester.

It was because Keith was afraid. It was because in spite of everything- how deeply and intensely they’d collided into love with one another, each of them was still terrified. Both of them were still untrusting of the dynamic between their two peoples enough that it was poisoning their relationship.

The truth of it stings deep. The realization tasting like blood in his mouth. A punch to the jaw. To the gut.

Lance isn’t waiting for him to answer because he knows they’d both become aware. He blinks at the tears in his eyes and huffs in a shaky breath, casting his gaze back down at Keith’s chest. At the pale flesh that covers it. Intensely enough that he may as well have been trying to see his heart beat beneath it.

“Kethek-...Keith… whoever it is you choose to be… I trust you more than I trust that the suns will rise each morning.” He says eventually, his voice breaking. I trust you to the point where I think, deep down, I thought it could be my demise.”

Keith understands his meaning. Because he, admittedly, felt the same. That his affections for Lance… their relationship to each other, as strong and pure hearted as it was, would lead them into trouble. That it was an inevitable path for two people whose entire lives were predestined to oppose one another.

Lance trusted him with his whole heart. And that’s why he’d jumped so readily to assume that he’d fallen into a Galran trap. And Keith loved him so wholly that he was afraid to give him all his truth. They both feared losing each other to the things of which they had no control. The things they'd tried to control anyways, and it just ended up hurting them both.

“I should have.” Keith eventually says, his voice soft. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t.”

He takes another steadying breath.

“I fell in love Lance…” he says, feeling a small thrill at the ability to admit it so freely now. “and… and I hate to think that a mistake because… because you're not a mistake. Everything you've ever given me, every bit of comfort and love and joy has been worth it. But I still hesitated to tell you, because I'm terrified I'll lose you too.”

Lance blinks, looking down, more tears finally falling. His eyes hold their gaze on Keith's chest, but Keith knows his mind is elsewhere now, staring blankly as the thoughts in his head swirl.

He steps back eventually, righting himself with a little huff through his nose. And then his gaze is back on Keith.

Looking determined he reaches down to collect some of the garments that had been cast to the floor the night before. Unashamedly, he lets the sheet he’d been using to cover himself fall to the floor and Keith suppresses the heat in his cheeks as he watches him dress, suddenly very aware of the state of his own attire, which consisted only of a pair of hastily thrown on underwear that he’d snagged from the ground on his way out of Lance’s bed.

Lance puts on only a loose tank top and sleep shorts, wiggling into them quickly before he’s moving to put his pistol back in his bedside drawer. Before he comes back he grabs another garment from the drawer and gives it to Keith. It’s a simple sleep shirt and Keith takes it from him, pulling it over his head.

“Reset.” Lance says firmly. “Let’s start over. Fully clothed and in our right minds. Let's get it all out. Everything. Total honesty.”

Keith nods and with a sigh, Lance speaks again.

“You gave me your full honesty… so here’s mine.” He tells him. “ I’m in love with you, You were the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I let my sister get in my head about you being Galra way more than I should have, I resent my father, even though I know that I should not, and I’ve thought about running away several times within the past phoeb. From you, from my duties, from Allura, from the Blue Lion… from everything. And the guilt from that is eating me alive.”

And yeah, there was a lot to unpack there but one thing in particular calls out to him louder than the rest. Concern flashes through Keith in an instant and his brows furrow. “Run away?” He asks.

“I was even researching ways to permanently change my appearance. I would dye my hair. Cover my markings. I would go hide in the villages in the mountains. I was planning out everything in my head. I never planned to actually entertain the ideas… I could never do that…but I wanted to. I wished for it. And it’s so selfish of me that I promised myself I’d never speak about it. Until now that is. This is my truth. As shameful as it is. I would have given anything… to be able to change… like you. I wouldn’t have seen it as a curse. I would have welcomed it. I would have abused it. Used it to run away. Hide. Not like you.”

Lance let out a silent, but heavy sigh. Keith could only detect it because the bareness of his chest, now covered only loosely by thin fabric, made it easier to see its rise and fall. For a while they were just silent. Lance and Keith staring at each other wordlessly. Lance’s face seemed conflicted. Processing a million different things at a mile a minute. His gaze drops once more and with a tearful, shaky breath, he brings his hands to his face.

“I’m beginning to realize… all this time… that I’ve just been nothing but a coward.”

And Keith literally has a physical reaction to that. His heart lurching, his chest clenching, anger flaring through his every nerve.

“The LAST thing you are Lance, is a coward.” He tells him firmly. Almost angrily.

He steps forward and gathers Lance up in his arms, wanting to do nothing but soothe him, banish the very idea from his brain.

“Don’t you dare believe that for another tick.”

Lance looks like he wants to protest more, but he catches his bottom lip between his teeth and breaths out through his nose. Keith can feel it tickle his neck where Lance is curled against him. His shoulders slumping with the breath against him.

“We both think too little of ourselves.” He concludes eventually. “We’ve both made mistakes. Both kept secrets. But now, everything’s out in the open between the two of us. And that’s all we can do. Just continue trusting one another.”

He pulls back to look Keith in the eyes. “I promise to believe that I am not a coward if you promise to believe that you are good, and kind, and deserving of love. No matter what.”

Keith’s gut twists. With affection. With doubt. With an almost painful desire to really and truly believe that. To give Lance the love he deserves. To. E the person he deserves. With time… he thinks. With time and effort, he’d be able to fulfill this promise to Lance. So he tells him ok. Pressing a kiss into the soft hair at the top of his head, holding him close.

He would make every effort. For him. Because he knew… Lance would not be getting the love he deserved if he continued to hate himself.

Lance gave a smile and shook his head. He chuckled weepily. Stepping back away from Keith again to wipe at his eyes.

His voice is still wobbly and his face is still flushed, but he’s smiling. Recovering.

“Ancestors, what a morning, right?” He chuckles, looking bashful and slightly manic. It’s again not a genuine laugh, rather, one born of nerves and stress and Keith resists the urge to apologize again.

“At least now I finally know why you're so short.” Lance says then, a little smirk pulling at his lips, laughing delicately though his eyes still glisten with tears.

Keith flushes but he smiles. Happy.

“I’m actually quite tall for a human.” He tells him, a hand absently running up and down Lance’s back.

Lance’s eyes widen. “Really? But you’re as tall as me! And I’m an average height for an altean male. Humans must be tiny!”

Keith chuckles. “In comparison to galra they are.”

Lance smiles fondly, but after a moment it fades, eyes growing sad.

“I’m so sorry about your friend.” He tells him. And Keith’s heart stutters violently when Lance moves a hand up to cup his cheek softly in his hand. Even more so when his expression settles. He looks heartbroken.

His hand is warm against his skin though, and comforting. A gentle thing Lance offers in support. A gesture that until Lance came into his life, had been so foreign.

“That must have been so hard.” He continues. “I can’t even imagine.”

He… he was the man who you were with in your first vision in the mind meld, right? The one you said you do everything that you do to make sure he didn’t die in vain?”

Keith nods.

“His name was Shiro.” Kethek tells Lance, eyes burning with tears. It’s been a while, he realizes, since he’d spoken his name aloud.

“He was like a brother to me.”

“After my fathers death, he took me under his wing.” Kethek continues slowly.

“I lashed out a lot. Got in fights. I was sent to juvenile detention centers because of it. I had no hope of being adopted. Not with my record. I was just a kid… lost, and alone… and afraid. I had nobody after my fathers death. I knew it. And I let it get to me.”

Shiro was the first person to give a shit about me. He was just 22 years old when I met him… and for some reason… he chose to deal with me instead of doing whatever normal 22 year olds did. He came to my school to recruit cadets for a military space program he was enrolled with.”

“He saw me… all my bad attitude and problems and pain… and he believed in me anyways. Advocated for me. Pushed me to be better. He got me my position at the military academy and that’s how I became a part of the space program.”

“From then on, he was my everything. My brother. My friend. My family. He filled every roll.

“Years later, we were both chosen for a research mission to the outskirts of our galaxy.” Kethek explains. “He was pilot, I was co pilot, and we traveled with two science experts. Commander Holt and Matthew Holt.”

Kethek swallows, lips pursing and Lance’s fingers brush over the back of his hand on cue.

“They’re Pidge’s brother and father.”

Lance’s hands go still, his eyes widening.

“Wait, what?!”

Keith nods, lips pursed.

“When I found Pidge with the green lion… I thought they were Matt. They look so alike.”

“I’d never talked to Pidge back on Earth… only saw them in passing… or heard about them in stories. But I knew as soon as I figured out that they were not Matt who they were… and they’re here looking for their family. And for me and Shiro.”

“They’re looking for Keith.”

“Are you going to tell them?” Lance asks, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

Keith sighs. “I have to. I know I do. If I don’t tell them I risk them finding out on their own… without knowing why I’ve kept it a secret… and that… that’s really dangerous. If Hagar knows who I am… if she ever connects the dots that I’m the same human she experimented on, I… I don’t even want to know what dangers that would bring about. She could have powers over me that I’m not even aware of. I can’t take that chance. I just… I don’t know how. I… I couldn’t save Shiro… or Matt or Commander Holt. I have no idea where they are or what happened to them… I couldn’t keep them safe and I have no idea how I’m going to be able to look Pidge in the eye and tell them that.”

“You tell them what you told me.” Lance says firmly, eyes determined as he squeezes his hand. “You tell Pidge that you did everything you could. That you were fighting for your life. They can’t resent you for that. You can offer to help them search. Now that you’re in a place where you're able. We both can. And maybe the three of us… working together…. As paladins…. there’s power in that that we can not comprehend. If they’re alive, we’ll find them. You can promise them that.”

“We’ll make it work.” He says, with more confidence than Keith feels able to reciprocate. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

But he nods anyway. Submitting.

“I’ll tell them.” He says. “If you can procure a place to do it where we won’t be overheard.”

Lance smiles and nods. “I’ll work something out.”

Keith smiles back, though he feels it looks weak. It’s one attempt of many he was currently executing to not lose himself in the overwhelming swirl of nerves still in his gut. Instead he focuses his thoughts on the prince, so thankful that he was willing to be so open and understanding, despite the severity of the circumstances. So unbelieving that he had the pleasure of his love. That he had become something with him that his words would never be able to accurately describe.

It was then that Lance took him in his arms and squeezed him again, burying his face into his neck. Keith's heart felt full.

There was still much they would have to work through. Adjustments they would have to make… but this was progress. A tremendous amount of it. It was all on the table now. Everything. Nothing was a mystery between them. They were exposed. Vulnerable. But they had each other. They had each other. They’re in this together.

Finally, with a reluctance Keith can almost feel, Lance pulls away. One last time.

“The guards should be doing their shift change now.” He says softly.

Keith nods.

“Another varga and they'll shift again. you shouldn't arouse suspicion then. We'll pretend that you came by early in the morning to inspect my window. I’ll thank you for addressing my concerns about its reinforcements.”

Keith nods again.

“Until then, we should bathe. Like you said. Alone.”

Keith smiles at the little pout Lance puts on with the last word and chuckles.

“Yes, tragically.”

Lance swats a hand at his chest lightly but smiles too, blushing sweetly. It makes Keith’s heart swell.

“You go first.” He tells him. “I’ll review my schedule while I wait.”

Keith obliges, leaving Lance in his room alone with one last kiss before collecting the pieces of his uniform still scattered on the floor and making his way into Lance’s en suite bathroom, still as ornate and luxurious as it had been that night he’d dumped six bottles of nunvill down the sink. To think… how much things had changed since then.

He glances over to the sink and sighs, memories of himself, anxious and flustered playing out in the space in front of him.

And then he sees his reflection.

The sight of his own dark gaze jolts him a bit at first, having gotten so used to seeing a different version of himself that it’s almost startling.

He stares at his reflection. At Keith, and his head spins yet again with all that his presence here implies. In this space.... In this form.

He focuses again, searching out the feelings in his chest. The ones of warmth and calm that Lance brings to him, and he watches, for the first time in decaphoebs, the transformation that he’d shown Lance- the first person ever to witness it other than himself and a select few Blade of Marmora agents. Conrad’s that he’d been able to eventually harbor trust for only because of their diligence in keeping his secret.

Not every blade knew, but those who did showed him the same respect they gave any other Blade. They didn’t treat him differently. Didn’t see it as a liability. They trusted his own diligence. Trusted him to never mess up in front of the Galra. Expose himself as the human that escaped Hagar clutches and, in doing so, expose the presence of spies within galran ranks.

The blades had covered their tracks well that day. Nobody lived to be able to report to Hagar what she’d been able to do to him with her Komar experiments. To them, the human man she’d had such interest in experimenting on and the short galran Blade tasked with protecting the prince were different people. And that’s how it had to stay.

He had no idea what powers Hagar possessed over him. What she could do, using him, if she ever knew his true identity. And he could never find out. For the sake of the blade, and every spy in the galran ranks. For the sake of Lance and the Alteans.

With the warmth he’d called to the front of his mind to be able to shift his replaced by a deep churning anxiety in his gut, he turns away from his reflection to step into the shower and scrub away the evidence of last night. Evidence that remains, regardless of the form he takes.

And it feels wrong at the same time that it’s a relief. A twinge of sadness at the removal of Lance from his skin and a weight off his shoulders at the fact that after this, he won’t have anything more to fear or hide. Lance would be safe in the removal of the evidence of their closeness. Their bond.

It leaves him feeling confused. Unsettled. Not happy. Not content.

But the smile can’t help but return to his lips when Lance is waiting for him as he eventually finishes and steps out of the shower.

He pouts teasingly at the fact that there’s a towel around Kethek’s hips before he slinks past him to take his turn, gently brushing a hand over his shoulder as he goes.

“Welcome back Kethek.” He says softly. And how can Kethek’s heart not flutter at that. How could he possibly not love him.

He dresses back into his blades uniform as Lance showers and does his best to make himself look just as he always does. Thinking of all the people he will have to face today after making love to their prince. After coming to know him more intimately than he could have ever imagined. After sharing in, receiving, and giving him pleasure. Loving him. Fully. Finally.

Kethek eventually hears the water turn off and knows that now would be a good time to step out of the bathroom. To remove himself from a situation that will undoubtedly stir up more feelings in his gut that will challenge him. Make him want to step closer to Lance and touch. Kiss. Revere.

But his contemplations take too long for him to make a decision, let alone act on it, and suddenly it’s too late. Kethek sees his reflection in the mirror first, Lance, skin looking dark and golden against the contrast of the white marble, one foot out of the shower, rivulets of water running down his completely bare figure. He’s literally shimmering with it.

He flicks his hooded gaze up to Kethek through long, wet lashes and pauses in his exit, poised in a stance so elegant, he looks godly. Ethereal. His hair is slicked back, the ends curling up along his neck where they drip more water onto his shoulders.

A tiny, mischievous smile blooms on Lance’s face then, blue eyes glinting.

“You stuck around for the show?” He asks, showing no hint of bashfulness. Shameless.

Kethek turns around to look at him in the flesh, and by god, somehow it’s even more magical of a sight to behold. He realizes he’d been holding his breath and lets it out in a shaky sigh, awed by the fact that this is his life. That he’s allowed to be here. Encouraged even, to be standing in front of the sovereign prince of Altea, the legendary blue paladin. The famed war hero and diplomat. The untouchable Altean royal, fresh out of the shower, as bare and as beautiful as the night before when he’d given Kethek a similar look from under him in his bed. When he’d let him ravish him. Penetrate him. Make love to him.

Kethek swallows, the memories making his heart thus clumsily in his chest and his gut burn with lust.

He grabs a towel folded next to the sink and walks it towards Lance as he moves to step fully out of the shower, not once breaking their gaze.

When he’s within reach, he takes the towel and rubs it over Lance’s hair, rubbing gently to soak up the water, Lance watching him all the while. When his hair no longer drips, he wraps the towel around Lance, drying his shoulders and cocooning him in the plush, dry fabric. And Lance, as shameless as he is, for some reason, flushes.

Kethek realizes then that his affections have caused this several times now, and it makes him smile. Not a hint of a blush being watched as he gets out of the shower, but a red face when dried off by said voyeur, Lance is flustered by his new lack of inhibition. Perhaps almost as much as Kethek is surprised at his own boldness.

He doesn’t make an effort to tamp it down though. Not anymore. Not here, where it’s safe.

Lance, now standing in a puddle of water, makes a move to walk across the slick floor and Kethek, continuing in his efforts to be bold and love Lance the way he deserves, holds onto him, suddenly reminded of that night in the spa when Lance had been slipping all over, falling into him and giggling. When Kethek felt the first sparks of his affection.

Lance is much steadier now, fully sober, and still, he clings to Kethek, stepping carefully over the puddle. And Kethek doesn’t push him away.

Once they’re on dry tile again, Lance looks back up to him and for a while, they just stare at each other, still in this moment. Not wanting it to come to an end.

“I really wish I could kiss you.” Lance says, and it pulls a chuckle from Kethek’s lungs but a sigh follows quickly after. He steps away leaving the towel to hang from Lance’s shoulders.

“We’re already pushing it.”

“Not unless you scent me.” Lance smiles, seemingly having just come to the realization. You’re by my side all day, I’m bound to pick up some of your scent. So just… just small touches? That should be fine!”

Kethek can’t exactly argue, but he doesn’t want to take any chances either. But in his silence, Lance already makes the decision for him and pulls him out of the bathroom with a hand around his wrist.

As soon as they enter the main room Lance allows the towel to drop to the floor with little ceremony. And somehow, despite all they did the night before, it still makes him flush as he watches Lance’s naked back side bend over his bed to collect the outfit he’d chosen for himself while Kethek was in the shower.

He steps into his underwear and pants quickly before turning back around to hand Kethek his shirt, smiling coyly.

“You were so skilled in taking it off.” He tells him. “Help me put it on too?”

So Kethek does, swallowing his protests. Swallowing his instinct to take three steps back and look away.

He helps Lance into the sleeves and runs the zipper up his back, mourning the smooth skin that disappears under the fabric as it goes, not knowing when they’ll have a chance for this again. A small voice still in his heads chiding that being here and doing this should not happen again. At least not for a long while.

And then, with Lance’s circlet placed back across his forehead, they’re both fully dressed again. The prince of Altea and the Guard of the Blade of Marmora. Just as they always were before last night, the bond between them hidden well under their careful disguises.

“Your highness.” Kethek says, extending an arm towards the door.

“Kethek.” Lance nods.

They make their exit, off to a day of meetings and official business. Just like always.

Only it’s not.

Now, and forever, it will be different.

Irrevocably so.

______

Quintants pass, one after the other. Slowly the normalcy and monotony of business as usual settle back around them. Lance is busy. His demands piled higher as tensions on the front lines grow and more colonies succumb to galran forces. The battles grow worse, especially with word now of Altea having reclaimed two Voltron lions. Zarkon’s rage can be felt through the galaxy, rippling out in waves and causing chaos in its wake.

Kethek knows Lance mourns his inability to be on the front lines. Resents that his duties be fulfilled from the castle, locked away from the fight with diplomacy and leadership as his only useful weapons. Kethek can see it in the tension of his shoulders. He knows how badly he wants to fight alongside the coalition forces. Re enforce the solidarity between them and the royal family. Prove that he would put his life on the line with them if he only could. Kethek knows he hates to think himself more important than those out there selflessly risking their lives for peace.

And oh how Kethek wishes there was time and space to reassure him. To put a hand on his back and kiss his temple and remind him of his worth. His well intent. But Kethek must remain nothing more than his shadow in the halls of the castle under the eyes of the Alteans. All he can do is speak to Lance through stolen glances and hope that he understands their meaning.

Allura having been off planet means that it takes several Quintants of this stress before Lance can have counsel with the queen and inform her of the actions he’s been taking.

For Kethek, her arrival back on Altea unexpectedly hits him with a torrent of nerves. He and Lance go to greet her upon her return, Lance expressing that it was urgent he be able to share with her all the developments that had happened in the past few quintants and seemingly not nearly as fretful as Kethek was.

When her pod landed and Lance went to embrace her, he did it with elegance and poise, not looking even a little bit out of character. He smiled his same charming smile and spoke calmly and with ease. A complete contrast to Kethek, who’s heart was hammering erratically.

And then, to his horror, he realizes his panic must be visible on his face because the queen is suddenly staring at him, giving him a distrustfully confused look and Kethek tries not to gulp. Just behind her Lance was also looking at him, looking so fucking smug it was infuriating. He smirked at him and Keith felt himself blush harder.

He does everything in his power to school his expression back as he bows, mostly to hide his face for as long as possible while desperately trying to rid his brain of the memories that had been making him flushed and distracted in the worst times these past several quintants every time he had to face someone close to Lance. The memory of red bitten lips. Of endless expanses of skin. Of bites and thrusts and beautiful, sweet, throaty moans. Noises too intimate and sexual to ever leave the walls of his room. Noises that Kethek had felt such pride pulling from him.

The memories now just make him freeze up, tense, and Lance, annoyingly, seems amused.

Allura, thankfully like always, doesn’t pay him much mind and brushes past him without delay as Lance strides by her side, filling her in on the most important details while they make their way to the meeting room.

After a varga of standing outside the door, keeping watch, he manages to get a hold of himself, and by the time lance joins him again and parts ways with his sister, manages to be able to look into lances blue eyes and not start sweating.

"You looked like you were going to pass out." Lance tells him eventually, the words a whisper against the shell of his ear when they're alone enough to not be overheard.

He has the audacity to giggle, and just like that his composure is shot again. It goes on like that every quintant of the movement. Lance being a big fucking tease and not even being able to follow through on any of his taunting because he’s too busy to do much more, always being pulled away to another obligation.

The next time they’ll be able to be casual with one another, at least a little bit, is in the scheduled meeting with Pidge in the green lions hanger that eventually makes its way onto the long list of the prince's responsibilities.

There was a lot that needed to be discussed. Things that Kethek wasn’t sure they had time to thoroughly talk through in what would most likely only be a small window of time where Lance would assist Pidge with whatever they had requested the meeting for.

He tells Lance as much when he eventually asks, voice cautiously hushed on the way to the hanger, if he had plans to talk to Pidge.

“We’ll make time.” He’d told Kethek in response. “Whatever you need, I‘ll do whatever you need.”

And maybe it was partially the nerves that made Kethek protest, but he told himself it was mostly logical. That this was just one stop in his list of the prince’s to do’s. One stop out of many others. Meaning that they wouldn’t be granted all too much time with Pidge before having to move on and that wasn’t good enough. He needed more time. if he was going to have this conversation, he was going to do it right.

It’s what he tells Lance as they head over, his voice low for only Lance to hear.

Lance just bit his lip and nodded, trusting Kethek. He still trusted him. Even after all the mess they had been through.

Kethek had promised himself he would try to be a person worth trusting. Try to be someone Lance deserved. That meant talking to Pidge, so dammit he would do it. That is, if Pidge didn’t find out first.

They were surrounded by literal piles of technology when he and Lance entered the hanger, looking intensely down at one of several screens, typing furiously.

They don’t even notice that he and Lance are standing five feet away now until Lance speaks up, making them jump.

Their back straightens and their head flies up so fast that their glasses fall down to the tip of their nose.

Frantic, they stand, shoving them back up with two fingers before looking over their shoulder to gaze at Lance, then to Kethek, and then back to Lance.

“Your highness.” They say, turning around to face him fully. "You’re here, hi, I- I didn’t hear you come in.”

Lance smiles easily, looking ever so kind and regal.

"Well my guard here is trained to be light footed and I myself may have adapted the tactic in the effort to stay out of harms way, so I apologize for us startling you. I’ve only come to check up on you. I saw that you requested to meet a while back and I apologize for not being able to make it until now.”

“Oh. Oh, that!” Pidge says, seemingly realizing what Lance was referring to. “Yeah I had just been curious as to what tech I was free to use.but I eventually found Coran and he set me up. I’ve been scanning deep space, as you know, picking up camera feeds and ship coms, trying to follow the trail I’ve been on after my family. That’s what all this is.”

They gesture out to the pile of technology with a wave of their arm when suddenly a large crackle comes through one of the speaker looking devices on the makeshift desk they’d set up.

Lance’s ears twitch and he perks up, eyes zeroed in on the device with interest.

“Oh, did you get something?” He inquires.

Pidge looks over their shoulder and then waves off the noise with their hand.

“That’s just the receptor that transmits in-atmosphere signals. Only stuff from Altea. It goes off every now and again when there’s communications happening in the atmosphere- pods leaving, security checks. That kind of stuff.”

Lance looks slightly alarmed then.

“Coran granted you access to all that?”

Pidge’s eyes fly wide for a moment, looking vaguely panicked before they’re waving their hands in frantic reassurance.

“Oh, uh, no, not exactly, heh, it’s- well- my tech is unique… I invented it and, well… nothing is really capable of standing up against it honestly. I know you all are really uptight about security right now, but this is just- there’s nothing to worry about. I’m the only one with this kind of capability. Unless someone out there has a brain like mine, which… isn’t all too unlikely… just… less likely… highly unlikely really- regardless… it’s just… my tech can’t really help what it's capable of. I made it to be the best. But that’s why it’s un-tuned- why it’s coming in as static. I don’t have any interest in spying on your security protocols and I’m not trying to be malicious. So I tuned it out.”

Lance nods in understanding but the furrow in his brow doesn’t go away.

“I can vouch for them, my prince. Kethek assures. Though I don’t know them well, but I do know they would never willingly give up their tech to anyone who would do Altea harm. We can trust them.”

“It’s not a mater of trust, I assure you.” Lance says then, looking uneasy. “As the green Paladin, you are beholden with certain qualities that allow me that peace of mind. Though being a Paladin does not require a clean and moral conscience, as Zarkon himself proved, the qualities of his lion and thus, himself made his ability to eventually turn on his allies in his hunger for power not completely unsurprising. The black lion looks for a born leader. Someone of strength and cunning. That power can easily be corrupted if given a strong enough motivation. The green lion on the other hand requires someone of immense intellect. For you, it seems the reach of that intellect can not be helped. And though I trust you to handle that power responsibly, I worry what it could do in the wrong hands. If perhaps it was already stolen and in Galran hands….”

“I can almost completely ensure that it’s not, your highness.” Pidge quickly interjects. “I’m very careful. And if somehow it was stolen without my knowledge, all my tech is encrypted. Only I can access it. Only I know how to use it.”

Lance swallows but nods, visibly forcing himself to relax, the worried lines of his face smoothing out.

“Very well then, though I will have to ask you to share whatever of this tech is safe to with our experts so that we are aware and can prepare for the worst as a precaution.”

“Sure.” Pidge agrees easily. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Whatever allows you some peace of min-“

“Your majesty!”

The call that interrupted Pidge came from over Kethek’s shoulder. He turns around at the same time as the prince to look on to someone Kethek recognized as a communications expert. He looked panicked.

“What is it, Ezekiam.” Lance asks, the lines of worry back on his face.

“A galran pod just breached the atmosphere.”

Lance’s eyes fly wide. “What?!”

“Our scans show that it seems to be damaged but that’s all we can glean. It’s attempting a transmission, but our coms can’t make sense of it. The model of that pod is one that isn’t typically outfitted with communication abilities.”

“The only ships the galra produces without coms are mere shuttles.” Lance says in a rush. “I’d hardly even call them a pod. They’re meant for quick travel, usually just to a planetary surface.”

Kethek nods in recognition, familiar with the ship in question. It was a small vessel, hardly fit for deep space travel, though one could manage a flight in deep space in an emergency. Navigation systems were the bare minimum and they were outfitted with no defenses or communication systems. Usually anyone using them would be close enough in range with another ship or a person to be able to communicate through the coms in their helmets so that there was no need.

Kethek's eyes widen then too, his heart thudding as he comes to the realization. “Is there a pod or cruiser nearby?” He asks.

“Our deep space scanners show no galran ships for light years.” The Altean confirms.

“Quiznack. Lance says under his breath, eyes wide with worry. “How did it end up so far from a main ship?”

“How is it trying to send out a communication signal if the ship doesn’t even have the capability?” Kethek adds, looking to Lance with worry.

And then Pidge jumps, gasping.

“That feedback!” They shout. The one that we just heard from the close range scanners! It was probably picking up the transmission from that ship!”

Lance quickly dismisses the Altean that has coms to relay the message before rounding on Pidge, as they rushed to their counsel.

“Ezekiam said that we couldn’t transmit the signals.” He tells them.

“Your tech can’t. Mine can.”

They rush to plug in another device with holographic knobs that light up once connected and quickly start tuning it, adjusting levels almost blindly as their other hand fiddles with connecting several other ports to tech around the desk.

They pause… and more crackling feedback comes through.

“Shit.” They breathe. Looking confused. “That’s weird.”

“What?” Kethek asks.

“Anything transmitted is usually deciphered with this setting.” They tell him. “But it’s still static.”

They begin to fiddle again. And then they’re typing. And fiddling again. And typing again. They go back and forth, staring at a screen in front of them curiously.

“That’s strange.” They mutter, typing something once more before the fizz of audio suddenly screeches out with a high pitched ring. He and Lance jump, but Pidge seems to have expected it, hands still poised steadily over the devices.

“I got it.” They say.

They begin their adjustments again and this time it’s not static.

The loud ringing is reduced to a cacophony of different pitches of tone that sound almost like music, if music was a bundle of discordant notes that grate against your ears.

Pidge fiddles some more and the tones grow more muffled, subdued. And then- then it’s a voice. Or what kethek can only recognize as a voice in the way that it's paced. The words being spoken may as well just be noise, broken and garbled into an indecipherable nonsense.

But Pidge isn’t done. Their face is sharp with concentration as they steadily work, adjusting some more.

The voice becomes clearer. Words with more definition, though they still are hard to understand. And then, comprehension. Just bursts of recognizable words.

“Ship, damage, won’t.”

A little bit more effort and finally, finally it’s somewhat clear. It’s recognizable. Words sharp, though still muddled in static and voice strong.

It’s like a brick to the face. A rock in his gut, making Kethek’s entire body fall shock still as his eyes fly wide, his head spinning and heart thrashing.

“My ship has been damaged- the- compromised. I won't be- much longer. Please- safety.”

The audio cuts in and out but the message is clear. The voice is clear. It’s recognizable. Unique. And it’s enough to have Kethek reeling.

Because that was Shiro's voice. That was Shiro’s fucking voice.

“Shiro.” Kethek breathed. “Oh- oh my god it's Shiro…”

He looks to Pidge, whose eyes are wide and concerned, brows drawn heavily over their eyes in confusion.

And then there’s rage. It’s like a flash of light, a burst of fire behind their eyes and their turning towards Kethek looking about ready to scream.

“You told me they were dead!!” They shout, eyes blown impossibly wide.

“I- he was!” Kethek stutters.

“But that’s his fucking voice, Kethek!!”

“Pidge, I saw him lying dead eyed on the ground with a pool of blood around his head!!” Kethek shouts back, anger boiling up inside himself. “I thought he was fucking dead! Why the hell would I make that up! You have no idea how devastated I was!! It fucking broke me! If I had an explanation I’d give it to you, but I don’t know how this is possible!”

And then something like realization passes over their eyes. They look at Kethek, searching.

“Oh my god.” They say, their voice low. “Oh my fucking god.”

And Kethek isn't sure what they’ve figured out, but their eyes look right through him. Like they’re peering right into his soul and Kethek isn’t about to take any chances. He’s not even sure if he’s right, but he can’t have them out him. He can’t have that happen. Not here. Not now, in this public space, with cameras and corridors for anyone to be watching or overhear.

“Don’t.” He says, his voice deep and threatening. Serious and intense. “Pidge, I swear to god-“

“You fucking lied through your teeth.” They bite, eerily calm.

“I didn’t lie!” Kethek shouts back.

“What the quiznack is happening!” Lance cries unhelpfully, looking between the both of them in frantic bewilderment.

“Pidge please, I’m begging you, not here.”

“And why the fuck not!”

It’s then that Lance seems to catch on and he looks sharply in fear back to Kethek. He’s about to say something when suddenly there’s a loud boom. A crash. It makes Kethek’s heart stop. He feels tears at the back of his eyes and a panic… a panic so similar to what he’d felt on that galran cruiser so long ago… the panic of losing Shiro. It all rushes back to him and leaves him gasping.

“Was that the ship?!” Lance balks.

“If we heard it it must have crashed right outside the castle.” Pidge says.

And it’s so much. It’s too much. The panic inside him is boiling over and his feet are twitching to run. But he can’t leave Lance. He can’t just-

“I’m coming with you.” Lance affirmed, seemingly understanding where Kethek’s mind had been going. I’m safe as long as I’m with you. And it is my job as prince to investigate potential threats.

“He’s not a threat.” Kethek says almost desperately.

“Kethek, you told me Shiro died. And I know you think you heard him but… but what if this isn’t him? How could you possibly know for sure?”

“That's his voice. I know it is.” Kethek says firmly.

“It’s his voice, your highness,” Pidge says coldly, a sharp glare still trained in Kethek. “And I’m coming too. I need to know what the fuck is going on.”

Lance nods, seemingly having decided for himself what to do next.

He raises his wrist and speaks into a cuff on his arm that glows teal.

“Altea ground security, stand down, the pod has been confirmed a non threat.”

“Lance?!” Allura’s voice comes through then. Are you certain?”

“Affirmative.” Lance tells her. “Kethek and the green Paladin confirmed they recognize the force that came through the transmission. We’re leaving to investigate now.”

“Lance, that is far too dangerous, you can’t possibly think-“

“Do you not trust me?” Lance cut her off.

“No, I do but-“

The galra won’t be making any attempts on my life with such a disturbance. Our being on edge is not a prime time to attempt an assassination. This is my duty Allura.”

He turns off the com link before he can hear Allura’s response and turns to Kethek. “We better hurry.” And with a nod, they're running down the corridors towards where the sound of the crash had come.

The first sight of the crash that they can see is the billowing smoke over a hill that can be seen through the western facing windows of the castle.

“It’s too far to make it there on foot in enough time.” Lance remarks as they run past. “We should take the speeders.”

He leads them to the hanger where the speeders are kept and Kethek swallows, looking out the open hanger doors to the wide expanse of green Altean grass. Lance hasn’t been out and about on planet Altea since he’d arrived, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it in front of Lance, Allura’s concerns weren’t unfounded.

He knows he won’t be able to convince him to stay, so instead he tells him “you ride with me.” And takes comfort in Lance’s easy compliance. Pidge takes their own cruiser as Keith situates himself behind Lance, hoping to literally shield him with his own body as they go. The altean guard by now is regrouping to arrange for their own investigation and no doubt could be following shortly behind them.

But Kethek had a twisting feeling in his gut that tells him he needs to get to the ship before they do.

With that, he thrusts the acceleration of the speeder and takes off out of the hanger, Pidge following closely behind.

He presses himself close into Lance’s back, tucking his chin over his shoulder and holding onto him tight with one arm, the other steering. He keeps his eyes peeled, his senses sharp, and he’s confident in his ability that he’ll be able to keep Lance safe for only a moment before he’s suddenly and completely distracted by the first glimpse of the shuttle on the horizon.

It is, in fact, a galran shuttlecraft as they suspected, and it’s heavily damaged. A parachute is billowed out behind it, catching the Altean winds.

The air around the pod was thick with smoke, clouding around the scar that its crash had dug into the green grass.

Kethek basically throws himself off the speeder and runs to it, without hesitation, evaluating it quickly.

“Lance, get me something from the supply bag that I can wedge this open with.” He calls over his shoulder upon seeing a large dent in the door.

Kethek knows that the altean speeders are all outfitted with supply bags from his first tour of the castle. Coran had shown him the hanger despite the fact that he’d claimed he probably wouldn’t have a need for them. In his quick assessment of them he’d looked through the bags on each and remembered seeing an assortment of equipment.

When Lance hands him what is probably the altean’s equivalent of a crowbar, he’s relieved, knowing this door would probably remain jammed shut without it.

“He’s gonna try to kill you.” Pidge says then, seeming as though they have no difficulty accepting it as fact and even less difficulty in letting Kethek continue to try and open the door in spite of the fact that opening it will supposedly put him in danger.

Kethek does what he can to ignore them, putting his weight against the bar he now has wedged between the side of the ship and the door.

Lance however doesn’t ignore them. Instead he turns sharply towards them, eyes wide with worry.

“You said he wasn’t a threat!” Lance cries as his hand goes to his gun.

“Not to you and me. But he’s likely been held in galran captivity for years suffering god knows what and I don’t think he’ll take kindly to a galran opening his pod after he finally thinks he’s made it somewhere safe.”

“Shut up!” Kethek grunts, worry mixing with rage inside of his chest as he pushes harder.

“How is he supposed to know it’s you, huh?! It took me this long to figure it out even when it was right in front of my fucking face!”

“I said shut up, Pidge!”

“Figure what out?!” Lance asks,

“You don’t know?!”

“He knows!!!” Kethek shouts, his voice basically a growl. He shoves once more against the bar and suddenly he’s flying forwards, the door giving a shrill creak as it finally breaks free.

It’s still for only a moment as Kethek rights himself,

When he straightens out his eyes are wide with panic, his heart beating violently.

"Shiro?!" He calls out, his voice cracking. There’s no response.

Kethek's gut drops to his feet and before he can stop himself he’s scrambling inside, Lance squawking fearful cautions from behind him as he enters.

But Kethek doesn’t listen to them. He can barely hear them, because suddenly… right there in front of him… is Shiro. It’s Shiro. In the flesh. He looks gaunt. Face thin from what Kethek can only assume is starvation. His hair is now completely white and the scar Kethek remembers to have been an ugly bleeding wound is now a faded line over his skin. His eyes are hooded, but they’re open and Keith would have cried with joy at the sight of him had his hand not suddenly lit up and those once half lidded eyes not quickly and sharply narrowed with venom, an alertness seeming to force its way back into him.

In an instant, the seconds of stillness that had been between them evaporates and Shiro lunges at him with a strength Kethek isn’t sure how he has. It happens just as Lance was crawling his way into the ship and Kethek distantly hears Lance scream as he’s tackled to the ground.

Frantic, he tries to both hold Shiro off of him and look for Lance over his hulking figure and his heart stops when he finally sees him.

He has a gun aimed right at them, looking horrified.

“Lance no!” He screamed at him, just barely keeping Shiro from his neck. “Don’t shoot!”

Lance's face goes soft with confusion, hands releasing their tension around the gun just slightly, but he still kept aim, looking back and forth frantically between them, eyes wide while he watches the struggle on the ground. The big, Hulk of a man pinning Kethek to the ground, Kethek writhing beneath him, calling his name over and over again. Pleading.

“Shiro! Shiro please! It’s me! Please!”

Kethek wasn’t fighting back. Not really. Lance knew what Keithek looked like when he truly fought back. This was different.

“Kethek he’s going to kill you!” Lance screams.

He watches Shiro abruptly go stiff at his words and suddenly he’s throwing a glance over his shoulder, looking surprised, as though he’d only just realized he was not alone. His eyes go even wider then when they flick away from Lance to look next to him, where Lance realizes Pidge has joined them and with a shaking, broken voice, Lance hears him whisper something in a voice that sounds far too soft and gruff to be coming from such a large man.

“Matt?!” He croaks.

But then, with a thrust of his legs and a knee to the other man's stomach, Keithek takes advantage of his distraction and gains the upper hand. immediately pushing him to the back of the pod.

The man fought against him and Lance kept the gun held high, but Keithek managed to pin him still,

“Pidge, secure the door!” Kethek shouts. Nobody can get in, you understand me?!”

Pidge nods and reaches out to slam it closed, making sure to grab the crowbar before jamming the door shut again.

The instant there were four walls around them with no openings anywhere to the outside, Kethek transforms. The purple hue that covered him melting away into that pale, fleshy pink. His eyes losing their golden glow and his ears shrinking down to the small, curved ones that Lance always found so… strange. Ears that matched the ones on the other man. The other human man. Ears that matched Pidge’s.

Suddenly there were three humans in the room with Lance and Shiro, who had already looked dazed and shocked and pale becomes nearly white when he sees Keith’s face. Lance can practically see his heart stop in his chest as his entire body loses its fight.

Next to him, Pidge’s jaw is on the floor, eyes blown wide. For the first time, Lance thinks, they genuinely didn’t see this coming.

“Shiro it’s me!!!” Keith said for what was maybe the millionth time. The bigger man was staring at him, eyes wide and confused and horrified as he searched his eyes.

“Keith…?” He said, voice ragged and quiet. Even more broke then when he’d seen Pidge.

“Yes” Keithek croaked between heaving breaths, eyes rimmed with tears he hadn’t yet had time to cry in all the chaos.

And Shiro just looks at him… looks at him some more, and then suddenly his eyes droop and he’s falling backwards. Lance sees it and before he can even think, he drops his gun to lunge forward and help Keith catch him before his head can crash against the metal wall behind him.

The man is out cold in his arms then, whether it was exhaustion or shock, or a mixture of both that did him in, Lance isn’t sure, but the way Keith hovers over him now, indigo eyes wide with worry, Lance knows he has to do whatever he can to help him. Because Lance can see how important this is to Keith. It’s written across his face, and that means he’s important to Lance too.

He likely needs a healing pod. Lance says then, assessing the man. From what we heard of his transmission, he could be starved. Or injured.

“What the hell was that?!” Pidge screeches then from behind them.

“Kogane, you better start explaining yourself right fucking now or I swear to god!!!”

“Who is Kogane?” Lance blinks in bewilderment, brows furrowed, and oh my god it’s too much. It’s too fucking much. He doesn’t have time for this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go. He’s close to sobbing and his chest feels like it’s broken into thousands of pieces and Shiro- Shiro is right here in front of him and it’s all so, so much.

“Pidge, the royal guard will be here any second, and Shiro could die if we don't get him help, I don’t have time to fucking explain this!!”

It’s then that Lance sees it’s the narrowing of his irises. The glow that starts to bleed through his scleras. His teeth begin to sharpen and his skin looks like its flushed, but instead of pink like a blush, it’s tinted purple. Keith is terrified and angry and panicked and he’s starting to shift back because of it, looking now to be halfway between human and galran.

Lance knows Pidge sees it to by the inquisitive look that brushes over their angered expression.

“Please, Pidge just fucking trust me and help me save him!” Keith shouts, and with that, he’s Kethek again, eyes fully golden ears and teeth pointed.

Pidge looks rightfully dumbfounded, only able to swallow and nod reluctantly.

Kethek doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s shifted back, or if he does, he doesn’t waste a moment to consider it before he's back to business, making an effort to heft the larger man into his arms.

Lance, get his legs. Kethek instructs and he eagerly complies, putting his gun back securely in its holster to free up his hands.

A loud banging comes from the door then and it makes them all jump, Allura’s shrill voice ringing through from the outside.

“Lance, are you in there?! The door is jammed!”

“I got it.” Pidge says. And with all their effort, they throw themself against the crowbar and force the door open again.

It swings out to reveal a terrified looking Allura and at least seven guards standing at the ready.

But when she sees the sight of Lance and Kethek carrying out a very ill, not galena man out of the door, her entire demeanor shifts, a different kind of worry consuming her expression.

“Oh- oh my stars-! Medic! Medic, ancestors, somebody fetch a medic!”

She rushes forwards then, the skirt of her gown billowing out in the wind as she moves to assess the situation for herself.

“The green Paladin was able to decipher his signal and they both recognized his voice, Allura. He too is from Earth. A part of the same team as their family before they were captured and separated. Kethek was undercover on the ship they were held on.”

Lance relays the slightly altered story to Allura flawlessly, every bit as believable as he ever was.

“He was with your family, Pidge?” Allura asks them, sympathy evident in her eyes.

“The pilot of their ship, yes.” Pidge confirms. “We’d thought him to be dead until now.”

“It would seem that these humans are quite formidable.” Lance nods. “It is an astounding feat to be able to escape galran captivity. And if he managed to do so and is still alive after all this time thinking he’d been killed, there is hope yet for your family, Pidge. I’m sure of it.”

The medics come then, bringing with them a stretcher that hovers behind their own speeders and Allura waists in time in helping Lance and Kethek move him onto it.

The medics immediately begin a preliminary assessment, speaking quickly to each other before they’re rushing off, back where they came, strapping Shiro in for the ride.

Kethek is quick to follow after them, this time allowing Lance to sit behind him now that the rest of the guard were here with them and though he fights to be able to stay with Shiro once they make it back to the castle, he’s refused, the doctors instructing that only medical personnel be present for his examination and subsequent treatment.

It’s Vargas of anxiety and pacing that Lance can not try and soothe when in public before Shiro is finally loaded into the healing pod and Kethek can see him again.

Lance wishes to no end that he could hold his hand and kiss him gently. Whisper to him that it would be alright. That he was safe now and he’d be healed soon. No more so then when he sees the look on Kethek’s face as he stands in front of the pod.

He does what he can in the ways of comfort that isn’t too friendly or endearing. He tries to think what he might have done back in the time when he’d hated Kethek. When their relationship had been what it was intended to be. Professional. Distant.

He allows himself to put a hand on his back. A gesture one would give to an acquaintance who was grieving.

“He means a lot to you.” He says. It’s not a question. He already knows the answer. It’s evident in every line of Kethek's body. In every corner of his face.

Kethek nods, his tears only visible by the shine in his eyes that catches in the low light.

“You have no idea what he’s done for me.” Kethek nods, his lip caught between his teeth.

Lance has half a mind to worry what a statement like that would sound like to someone like Allura. Questions of how a Galran spy could have possibly gotten so close with a human prisoner without breaking his cover. It makes countless worries bubble up inside him that he can only quell with the hope that the security feeds that would pick up what he says wouldn’t be reviewed too closely. That the guards would pass this moment by without thinking much of it. But Kethek clearly doesn’t seem to care. And he shouldn’t have to. Lance decides he’ll do what he can to protect him from those questions that could arise. That he’d advocate for him.

“I'll ensure he receives the best of care, Kethek.” Lance tells him. Just as any prince not romantically involved with his guard would.

“I promise.”

Kethek nods but doesn’t turn away. Not for the rest of the entire day until night finally falls. Only then does he tear his eyes away to look at Lance and lead him back to the room for the night.

Lance can see in his eyes though that he’s not done. That as soon as the door shuts between them, he’ll go right back to the medical wing to stay by Shiro. He knows it because it’s exactly what he’d done himself when it had been Kethek in the pod. He knows the feeling painfully. Seeing someone you love cling to life after being almost certain that you’d lost them. And it’s with this in mind that the tells Kethek to promise him that he’ll try to get some sleep tonight, knowing well how easy it was to forget about things like that when your entire mind and soul were committed to being reassured that no more harm would come to the one you loved.

Kethek nods and tells him he will, and Lance knows it's sincere. He knows it’s not a hollow promise. Because Kethek doesn’t make hollow promises. At least not to him.

When he’s finally alone again in his room though, he’s not sure he can take his own advice, the events of the day and resulting energy of it all not yet having drained from his system. So it’s actually a relief when the communications panel on his wall rings with a call from Hunk.

“You missed dinner.” Hunk tells him when Lance answers. “I set some aside for you, want me to bring it up?” And god he’d completely forgotten to eat today, hadn’t he… The realization washed over him and makes Lance’s heart swell with appreciation for his friend.”

“Could you bring some by to the western medical wing too?” He asks. “Kethek hasn’t eaten yet today either.”

“Sure thing.” Hunk tells him. “I’ll stop by on my way up.”

And maybe it’s the intensity of the day, or the fact that Lance simply hadn’t done it yet today, but Hunk’s words- his kind, familiar voice, his endless helpfulness and care…. It fills Lance up with a warmth so tender that it literally makes tears spring to his eyes.

He thanks him and ends the call, rubbing against his eyes and scoffing at himself for how easily he’s been able to be brought to tears as of late.

But Lance has never been more grateful for Hunk than he is in this moment, and feels so whole undeserving of his friendship that it makes him ache.

He doesn’t even have to contemplate how much he should tell him about what had happened since they’d been able to spend more than a few minutes in each other's company. He knows his words are safe with Hunk. That anything he tells him will never be used against him. It’s that same, steadfast trust that he’d gained in Kethek. A conviction that he would never intentionally be put in harm's way because of them and he’s relieved. So relieved at the fact that he can get it all off his chest.

When Hunks knock eventually rings out through his room, Lance can’t help but hug him as soon as he lets him in.

“Hey buddy!” Hunk chuckles. “It’s alright! I’m not leaving until tomorrow! We can hug goodbye then!”

Lance stiffens. He’d completely forgotten about that.

Each year Hunk took a trip off planet to collect foods and spices from the Hoxxan market. He’d started doing it when he’d become head chef, noticing how diplomatic meetings often went smoother when he’d prepared traditional dishes for the people visiting Altea. It had since become a staple of altean diplomacy. A kind gesture to aligned planets in the coalition. But it required that Hunk make trips abroad to bring back ingredients necessary for certain traditional meals that used foods only grown on their home planets.

One way to streamline this effort was to go to the Hoxxan market, where merchants should all come once a year to the same place to sell their harvests. It was significantly easier than hopping around to hundreds of different planets. This way, he could do it all at once.

Lance is almost ashamed to admit that it hadn’t passed his mind at all, what with how busy he’d been, and it makes him all the more determined to spend as much time with Hunk tonight as he could.

“This is the worst part of the phoeb.” He gripes as he takes the trays of food from junk and sets them down on the table in his seating area. “I’ll hate being trapped in this castle even more without you in it.”

Hunk rolls his eyes, joining him at the table with a little smile.

“It’s only a few quintants.” He reminds him. “And you’ll have Kethek this time to keep you company.”

At the mention of Kethek, Lance sobers.

“Did he eat when you dropped off his food?” He asks worriedly.

“I didn’t stick around long enough to see, he seemed like he wanted to be alone.” Hunk replies. But I’d told him you’d sent for it and he seemed to appreciate it.”

Lance nods and bites his lips, looking down at his own food.

“Who was the man in the pod?” He asks. I didn’t get a good look but I heard you went out to the crashed pod to get him?”

Lance nods again. “He’s a human that was captured with Pidge’s family. The assigned pilot on their ship for the mission they’d been on. Kethek… Had been very close to him. He’d thought he’d died. Saw it happen himself. We’re not sure how he survived."

Hunk nods but doesn’t prod. Doesn’t ask questions, presumably assuming that the topic was a sensitive one. Hunk had an ability to read him like that. To know when he was hesitant to speak about something.

Instead he tells him he hopes he can meet the mysterious man when he wakes and leaves it at that.

It’s silent for a moment longer as they eat when Lance finally blurts it, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

“I had sex with Kethek.”

Hunk’s reaction is so immediate it’s almost comical. He chockes on the bite of food he’d been chewing, his eyes flying wide as he heaves and coughs, banging a fist against his chest in an effort to recover from the shock that had sent food down his throat.

“WHAT?!” He rasps out, coughing.

Lance nods, biting his lip again.

“I kinda… fell in love with him.” He admits.

“Well yeah, I quiznacking knew that, but I just- I didn’t expect-“

“You didn’t expect Kethek to reciprocate?”
Lance asks, giggling.

“Gods no!” Hunk squeaks.

“He came to me after he’d woken up from his healing pod session and confessed to me. And a few quintants ago, he… gave in… I guess. I mean I’d basically been begging him to at that point, but… even I was never sure he’d reach that point.”

“He must really, really love you…” Hunk mused then, looking bewildered.

Lance blushed looking down at his hands.

“I think he does.” He confirms.

“Well I’m happy for you Lance, but… I mean I gotta admit, this is really quiznacking risky.”

Lance’s face falls.

“I know.” He mutters.

“I mean like Allura would lose it if she ever found out.”

“I know.” Lance repeats.

“And the people! God! They’d probably quiznacking riot!”

“Hunk, this is not helpful.” Lance chides.

“I know I know.” He says quickly. “I'm sorry, I’m just…. I'm surprised.”

A moment passes.

“Have you told anyone else?”

“Gods no.” Lance breaths. “Just you. And I honestly think Pidge had already figured it out, but I'm not sure of exactly how much they know. It’s just… it’s.. I want to tell people. I don’t want to have to hide this. I really love him Hunk. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever truly loved someone and it’s eating me alive, not being able to express that. Having to hide. Kethek deserved so much more than that. I hate having to act as though I’m ashamed of it when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

Hunk frowns, contemplating.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He eventually says. “I wish I did, but… this is…. difficult.”

“I know.” Lance says again. “I’m just glad I could tell you. It… feels really good to tell someone.”

“Is he good to you?” Hunk asks then, and Lance almost laughs at the question, knowing the answer without a shred of doubt in his mind.

“He’s incredible, Hunk. I would have never imagined him to be so capable of being so… gentle… and sweet… and kind. He’s so much more than he seems.”

Hunk smiles. “Then that’s all you need.” He tells him. If he deserves it, I think people will one day be able to accept it. You won’t have to keep this to yourself for forever.”

And Lance aches. Aches with the desire for that to one day be true. He wants it so bad. To be happy with him. To be open and unafraid.

And then, in true Hunk fashion, manages to shift the mood back into the positive almost effortlessly.

“Ok, but I gotta know… is…are… are galra… you know, different? You know? Like… biologically?”

Lance snorts, chuckling giddily.

“Nope.” He tells him. “Perfectly familiar.”

“Really!” Hunk drawls, surprised. “I would have totally thought they’d have crazy junk or something.”

Lance laughs, and god, it feels so good to be able to, in this moment, have his stresses fall to the wayside, if only just for a short time.

“Not saying it’s not crazy! Just… familiar.” Lance teases, looking coy.

“Ooohhhhh!” Hunk sings, a grin blooming in his face. “You don’t say!” Lance laughs again. And shoves him, laughing heartily.

“Shut up, Hunk!” He giggles.

“God, you just had to give me too much information, didn’t you. Now that’s all I’m gonna think about when I see him.”

“Oh please don’t, I’m already doing that enough for the both of us.” Lance smiles.

It’s light. It’s easy. It’s good. The way he can just… talk to Hunk. Joke with him. Trust him. He sighs, holding onto the happy feeling in his chest for as long as he can.

“This is why I miss you even though you’re gone for only a few quintants.” Lance tells him, pouting. “You’re the best, Hunk.”

Lance puts a big hand in his shoulder and shakes it reassuringly.

“You’ll survive without me.” He tells him.”

“I get first dibs on all the new dishes you experiment.”

“Of course.”

"And you gotta promise you don’t spend an extra quintant because of that balmeran girl you always see there. Cute flirting is no excuse to leave me without you for longer than scheduled."

Hunk shrugs, somehow both teasing and serious as he nonchalantly tells him “no promises.”

Lance shoves him again and for the rest of the night, they just laugh, talking and joking and Lance savers every bit of it. Right up until the next morning when he goes with Kethek the next morning to send him off, hugging him tightly as he and his team load supplies into their ship.

In what feels horribly like no time at all, he’s gone. Kethek is at his side, offering him a small, reassuring smile that’s just for his eyes to see, private as they can be even in public and Lance loves him for it. Loves his dedication. His loyalty. His comfort. Loves him being here, in spite of the pain in his heart. He loves him purely and effortlessly and he, every tick, gets closer to believing what Hunk had said. That one day, that will be all they need to not hide together in the shadows.

One day, it won’t be a secret how much he loves him.

____

“He’s awake”

The news comes to him in the middle of a meeting, Lance having instructed the medics go alert him the tick that Shiro woke, regardless of whatever he would be doing when it happens.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kethek stiffen and immediately he’s standing out of his chair, apologizing to the gathered party and leaving Coran to finish off the meeting as he rushes out, Kethek following close behind.

“Has he said anything?” Lance asks the medic.

“No. I think he’s quite out of sorts still.” The medic replies. “We sent him straight to a bed as soon as he woke up. He’s been resting there since.

Lance nods, looking at Kethek and frowns when he sees the hard expression on his face. Lance knows that his heart is in his throat.

“But he’s ok, right?” Lance asks then, for Kethek’s sake.

“Remarkably so.” The medic confirms. “We saw a complete recovery. The only scars we can’t be sure if are the ones in his head. Whatever he’d gone through in the hands of the Galra is very much causing him distress. The brain scans from the pod were lit up. When you speak to him, perhaps don’t ask him too many questions yet of how he managed to escape. He may well be traumatized and need time.”

“Understood.” Lance says just before they arrive. preparing himself.

“The medic leads him to the room they’re keeping him in and gestures for them to go inside.

“Please send word to the green Paladin of his awakening.” He instructs just before pushing through the door. "They may wish to see him as well.”

The medic nods and leaves, leaving himself and Kethek standing at the door alone.

“You ready?” He asks Kethek.

Kethek nods, the worry in his face more evident than he undoubtedly wanted it to be. But there was no avoiding it. Confronting Shiro again in his galran form undoubtedly brought about some rightful hesitations, but they paled in comparison to Kethek’s overwhelming desire to see him… to see Shiro… Shiro! Alive and well.

With one final nod, Lance knocks, and when Shiro’s voice grants them permission to enter, Kethek’s heart, of course, stops.

Lance enters first, peering into the room and Kethek follows, willing his nerves to settle. Desperately convincing himself that he won’t try to hurt him again. That this was Shiro. His brother. His best friend.

But Kethek doesn’t miss the way Shiro flinches the instant he walks in the room behind Lance. Doesn’t miss the way his eyes sharpen and his shoulders tense- preparing to strike.

It takes several long ticks before he’s slowly relaxing again, eyes locked on to his, cautious.

Kethek hates it.

The one thing that he and Shiro had never been was cautious around one another. Never untrusting of each other. So it makes the look in Shiro’s eyes burn painfully and Kethek hates it.

Lance speaks up then, his voice like soothing water over Keithek’s skin. It brings them both out of their heads- back from whatever trance seeing each other again had put them in. He gives a kind, gleaming smile.

“Hello, Shiro.” He says to him kindly, voice soft. “I am Prince Lance of Altea. I welcome you to our planet. Kethek has told me much about you and I’ve been eager to make your acquaintance.”

Shiro’s looks at Lance, then to Kethek, then back to Lance again, his eyes calculating. Confused. And it’s terrifying. Because Shiro could say anything. Could interrogate them about Keithek’s transformation. Could refer to Kethek as Keith. He, in the silence that followed Lance’s greeting, unknowingly had the power to completely decimate the delicate web of deception that Kethek had been spinning for the past years of his life.

Kethek tried to convey as much as he could with his eyes. Tried to tell Shiro in any way he could to trust him without saying anything, but ultimately he knew he could do nothing. All he could do was hope that Shiro was not out of it enough that he could piece the bits of information together himself. To gather, on a moment's notice that the event of his transformation in front of him in the pod was out of desperation. To infer that the stakes around said transformation were high and that the situation was delicate. To understand that the deception he experienced with Keithek’s identity was exactly what everyone else who wasn’t Lance or himself experienced. That they needed to keep this under wraps.

“It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty.” Shiro says eventually, giving his full attention to Lance. His caution was still high and he was definitely confused, Kethek could tell, but he was not addressing it for now. And Kethek was thankful.

“I apologize for the circumstances of my arrival. Altea had not been my first choice to escape to. I’d intended to try and find my way back to Earth but my ship sustained damage and I had to make a fast decision. Altea was the only place close enough that I could think of without any threat of galran occupation.”

Shiro looks to Kethek again then, expression carefully blank.

“I’ve been held captive by them for years. So… I must also apologize for my behavior at the pod. It was quite jarring to have made an escape and then find myself confronted by a galra yet again on Altea no less. In the moment I did not recognize you… Kethek. I apologize.”

The relief Kethek feels then is insurmountable. Shiro probably didn’t understand much, but what he did he was playing close to his chest. Keeping up with the story that Kethek had concocted. And Kethek could not have been more grateful for it. For Shiro’s intelligence and sharp mind.

“It had been a while since we’d last crossed paths.” Kethek tells him. “I’m only sorry I had not been able to save you the last time we were together.”

It's taking everything in him. Literally everything to not burst out crying, but he manages, somehow, to keep going regardless.

“I… thought you…. died.”

Shiro’s eyes sadden.

“I think I did.” He admits. “I don’t remember much after waking again. I just know that it probably wasn’t… natural. However I’m alive… it’s because of Hagar. That I know for sure.

He pauses then, eyes seeming to grow wet as he stares at Kethek.

In a much softer voice, as though he’s unsure of if he should say it aloud, Shiro speaks again.

“Kei- Kethek… is it… are you… who I think you are? Is it really… is it really you?”

And it’s all Kethek can do to not choke on a sob when he nods.

“It’s me Shiro. He says in a whisper. “I promise.”

And then suddenly Shiro is on his feet. He barrels forwards, right into Kethek’s arms. He hugs him, his whole body shaking as tears fall from his eyes. He holds him so tight that Kethek can’t help but start shaking himself, overwhelmed with an overflow of emotion, the most prominent one being relief. Pure and utter, elating relief at the fact that this was real. That Shiro was here. That he’d somehow come back from the dead and found him again after all this time.

"If I’d known you’d lived, I would have never stopped looking for you." Kethek whimpers, voice cracking. "I would have never stopped trying to rescue you. I’m so, so sorry. I never knew. I never dreamed…”

Shiro shakes his head, muttering a single, firm, “stop.”

“You didn’t know.” He breathes. “It’s ok. I’m ok now.”

“And Matt!” Shiro’s says suddenly, pulling away to look at him. “Did I really see him with you?!”

“No.” Kethek replies, hating the way Shiro’s face falls with a devastated look. “You saw Katie. They go by Pidge here. And they came here looking for Matt and Commander Holt.”

“They’re still missing.” Shiro concludes.

Kethek nods.

Lance speaks up then, seeming reluctant to butt in but needing to move forward. They would have to talk about this in depth later. In a space not so heavily monitored.

“I think it’s pertinent that we discuss further once you are discharged.” Lance tells him. I will arrange a time for us to talk privately about what happened when you’re ready. Until then, you need rest.”

“He’s right. Kethek agrees. “Those pods really knock you out. It’s probably best we continue later.”

“Understood.” Shiro replies, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you both… for all your help. And especially to you, your highness, for your hospitality and care. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Lance grins, and Kethek can tell he likes him. It soothes something deep inside of him that he hadn't expected could be soothed. Seeing the two most important people in his life together. Getting along and happy. It's something he'd truly not thought possible.

It's great. It’s so great that it makes the call they receive the next day all the more gut wrenching. Because as thinks usually tended to happen in Kethek's life, as soon as something was good, even for just a moment, if Kethek allowed himself to feel it, he was immediately swept up into another tragedy, heart all but ripped from his chest.

"Planet Hoxxan is under siege. Altean casualties have been reported."

The look of outright horror that fills Lances eyes is painful to behold, and Kethek curses the universe from somehow knowing exactly where to hit him the hardest. Where his faultlines were. Somehow it manages to take everyone in his life whose ever smiled upon him and rip them from him when he least expects it.

His heart shatters when Lance confirms it, his voice a broken sob as he speaks.

"Hunk."

Chapter Text

There has never been a time that Kethek has ever witnessed Lance be so commanding. So single minded and determined without a single stray thought, joke, or ounce of nonchalance.

Something just… snapped inside of him. Something rare. Something he, almost seemingly as a rule, never lets himself be: Completely and utterly serious.

This, Kethek has come to understand, means that to him, something is of the utmost importance.

It means that Lance is terrified. Terrified to such an extent that he can’t even try and pretend he’s not. Unable to call up the bravado that masks most all of his other fears.

Kethek can do nothing but follow him as closely as possible as he takes charge, bursting through the doors of the main deck, a fury sharpening his gaze.

“I need a casualty report, now!” He calls. “Names! Of each fallen Altean!”

A lieutenant rushes up to him, crouching down on one knee as he begins to speak.

“12 casualties reported, my Prince.” The Altean says.

And then, as requested, he begins to recite the names.

None of them are Hunk. At least, that’s what Kethek assumes. Hunk, Kethek realizes for, embarrassingly, the first time, might not be his actual name but rather one that Lance gave to him. A nickname.

A quick glance to the prince however tells Kethek that regardless, Hunk was, in fact, not on the list of names.

“I need Altean fleets in that sector. We can not risk further casualties. Where is Queen Allura? We need a wormhole now!”

“She was visiting the outer villages, your majesty.” Another lieutenant responds. “She is en route as we speak.”

Lance clenches his fists and Kethek swears he can hear his heart pounding through the silky fabric on his chest.

“We don’t have time.” He growls eventually, letting out a breath.

“We don’t have time.”

And then, without so much as another thought, he’s turning on his heel and marching up to the wormhole platform.

Kethek blinks, watching him.

Lance has never stood on the platform. Never even acknowledged it in most situations. If Allura was ever conjuring wormholes or interacting with the castle, Lance was busy with his own duties. It hadn’t even occurred to Kethek that Lance could perhaps hold some of the same abilities as his sister.

It’s confirmed, to an extent, when no sooner than situating himself on the platform, Lance effortlessly calls the conduit staffs to rise. Kethek watches as he closes his eyes, the staffs lighting up under his touch.

“My prince, there is not enough of the queen's residual energy to conjure a wormhole.” One of the Altean’s warns.

“Then I'm gonna have to make my own.” Lance grits through his teeth, eyes still shut as he concentrates.

And Kethek doesn’t know much on the subject of Lance’s alchemic ability other than what he was briefed on when he’d first received his mission. It was never something that Lance seemed to make much of a use for. At least not in the circumstances he was in, and it was not something that came up often in their conversations.

According to his briefing, Lance’s abilities were far lesser than the queens. Making wormholes was among the list of things that Allura’s alchemy could more reliably do. And Lance, if he possessed the ability, had never accessed such power.

Until now, it seemed.

Kethek is slightly awed, as is every other person in the room, he realizes. They all blink at him with wide eyes and bated breath.

It falls quiet, the entire room centered on Lance.

His eyes are squeezed shut so tightly, brows pinched together as he seemingly wills something inside of himself to do… something. Something he’s never done before. Something he’s never tried to do.

And then… his Altean marks start to glow.

The room audibly inhales at the sight, as it is notably not something that happens to Allura when she conjures wormholes. This is something else entirely it seems. Something specific to Lance.

It’s then that Kethek notices the rise and fall of Lance’s chest. It grows more visible, his breaths more labored as the marks grow brighter. His pursed lips fall open and he breathes through his teeth, short and choppy.

The concentration in his face morphs into something resembling pain and Kethek’s heart skips a beat at the sight, his nerves spiking.

He’s not really sure what the protocol is here. If it’s safer to intervene or to let him ride it out. He, in the back of his mind, hears the crystal begin to hum, but his eyes are locked on Lance, scanning his every twitch. Any movement that might indicate his pending collapse. Any unsteadiness at all.

But the hum of the crystal grows louder, and when Lance’s knees do give out from under him, it’s at the same moment that a wormhole bursts open in the sky seen from the main deck windows.

Lance seems to use all his energy to keep himself upright, bracing himself on the staffs as Kethek’s mouth falls open along with the entire rest of the room.

“Send our fleets through.” Lance suddenly grits out then. “I… I’m not sure how long I can hold this.”

One of the lieutenants close enough to hear him nods quickly and barks out his orders to the rest of the room.

No more than a few ticks later, Alltean fighter crafts appear on screen, flying through Lance’s wormhole without missing a beat.

“All our ships are through, your grace.” The lieutenant calls to him. And the instant the words reach his ears, Lance is on his knees, hands braced on the floor in front of him as he heaves.

Kethek rushes to his side, crouching low and putting a hand on his back.

“Lance.” He whispers softly so that Lance is the only one who will be able to hear him. “Are you alright?”

Lance nods, inching his fingers to brush against Kethek’s hand which props him up close to Lance’s. It’s a tiny, barely noticeable touch, but it’s all he can do in this space. The only affection he can offer.

Lance nods again, still catching his breath as he lifts his eyes to the screen blearily.

“Get me eyes.” He rasps out as loudly as he can.

“Yes, your highness.” Another Altean’s says, rushing to communicate with one of the fighter crafts with orders to broadcast their camera feed.

The sight that pops up on screen is… concerning. The planet is swarmed with galran ships, fighters flying around like flies above a dying carcass. It makes Kethek flinch, his stomach churning with worry. With vivid memories of a time where his life had, almost consistently, looked like the battle on screen,

But it’s nothing… nothing compared to the look on Lance’s face. Kethek doesn't expect it when he glances over to him. He expected anger. Frustration. Rage. Instead he gets conflict. Conflict and worry, eyes wide and scared as he looks on to the scene.

“What are your orders, your majesty?” One of the Alteans asks, standing at attention at the base of the podium.

But Lance doesn’t respond. Didn't even look at the Altean and he doesn’t make any move to try.

He’s frozen.

The coms are lighting up, calls from confused pilots waiting for their orders, but Lance just doesn’t move.

Kethek isn’t sure what exactly is holding him up, but he has to push away the concern, if only for a moment because the stalling has the exact result Kethek feared it would.

All it took was one galran to notice them and all hell broke loose.

“They’re firing at us!” One of the altean pilots calls through the coms.

They all look at Lance and his eyes are even wider.

A moment passes and then… he says the last thing kethek would have expected.

“Don’t shoot! Stand down!”

“What?!” An altean shouts.

“Open a com link- just- just talk to them!”

“This is the galra, my prince!” Another Altean shouts. “They don’t negotiate!”

There are tears in Lance’s eyes now. Kethek can see them. Subtle, but there.

“STAND DOWN!” He shouts.

And the room falls into a stand still, blinking in surprise.

In this situation, without the Queen or Coran on the premises, and the prince seemingly unable to make offensive calls, Kethek was technically the highest ranking person in the room. And his orders were to protect the prince and Altea, no matter what. So right now- with time ticking away, Kethek realizes he will have to give the orders.

He stands from Lance’s side and steps down the podium, scanning the sky on screen. He looks for the Galran flight patterns, identifies who’s cruiser looms in the distance. He recognizes the specific make of the ship in the subtly newer updates to its exterior design and knows it to most likely be run by one of four commanders. Commander Vaar, Commander Darxal, Commander Anaarak, and Commander Seela. All ruthless, all dangerous. But none a threat too great for the Altean forces to be able to handle.

They have time. If only a moment of it.

“Use defensive tactics only.” He says to the room. “Only what’s necessary to keep our ships from taking damage. Lieutenant Arata, you have command until we return.”

The room is desperate enough for orders that for once, they don’t even hesitate to listen to him, and as soon as they’re turned away and distracted he turns to grab the prince, helping him up and taking him through the doors to a delegation room right across the hall.

He locks the doors and turns to Lance who, now that it’s just the two of them, starts to cry openly.

He hugs himself, hands gripping his forearms tightly enough that Kethek worries they’ll bruise. He’s panicking. It’s clear in the way his breaths heave in and out. In the way that he’s shaking.

Kethek is beside him in an instant, hands moving to hold him steady as he lets the full amount of his concern take over his expression.

“Lance, what is going on?!” He says softly, trying not to sound as frantic as he feels.

“I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t send them in…!” Lance sobs. “How- how could I have possibly given orders to make our forces attack nameless soldiers when any one of them could have Hunk!”

Kethek blinks, his confusion growing.

“Nameless soldiers?” He asks.

“Yes!” Lance shouts. “Innocent people!!! Just doing what they think they’re supposed to do! Following orders! Being loyal to their people! Like Vex! Like you!!!”

Kethek’s heart skips, understanding falling over him like shards of broken glass. Painfully clear.

“I - I just kept thinking of you…. you in… in your galran armor… somewhere on that planet… or… or in one of those ships, and I just… I couldn't bring myself to- how could I just- how the hell am I supposed to know Kethek?! How can I look out there and know which galra are the ones like you and Vex?! Good people coerced into fighting a war they don’t want to fight or that they’ve been brainwashed to understand as noble? How can I unleash armies on masses of people who might be good?! Who might have good intentions and loved ones and families?! What if- what if Hunk gets hurt in the fray!! And it’s because I couldn’t wait to pull a trigger!”

“What if I was a galra and some high and mighty altean prince came and killed you?! I… I don’t know what I’d do with myself!! I have so much power, Kethek!! Terrifying amounts of it! And I’m expected to just- to just wield it? Without a second thought?! Like I’ve done my whole life?! Like my father did?! So angered by my mother’s death that he just- decided to wage a war?!”

“Zarkon started this war Lance. Your father responded to it.”

“He didn’t have to!”

“He did. And you know that better than anyone, Lance. He had to decide between letting Zarkon kill countless more mothers and families and innocent people or fighting back. Using that power to defend his people and those who would fall prey to Zarkon’s forces.”

“He didn’t start the war because of that.” Lance cries. “That came after he settled into it. He joined the war for revenge. To avenge my mother and make Zarkon pay. And to make Zarkon pay, all galra had to pay. All galra were evil. It was never just about Zarkon, it was always about payback for him. And- and I just…. For all this time, I just blindly followed in his footsteps. I just… accepted that my people loathed the galra and I let myself be trained to feel the same! To fight without caring for the lives lost on both sides! I was taught to prioritize Altean life above all else because my father resented Zarkon and all his people for my mother’s death regardless of Whether or not they were involved at all. How is that ok?!”

“Lance-“ Kethek tries, but Lance doesn’t seem to have any capacity to listen. He’s distraught. Frantic. Angry.

Lance levels him with a heartbreaking stare, eyes searching his.

“I just keep seeing you.” He tells him. “I saw your face… in their armor… in their ships. I…. I saw Vex… good people… just… led astray. Or-or in situations they don’t want to be in. I just… there’s so much innocence that I’m probably not even aware of! There’s no way I can possibly look at a Galran fleet and determine who is truly evil and who is not.”

“You can’t.” Kethek tells him.

He wants to tell him that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. To fight in the name of the empire. To do whatever was in the interest of the empire without blinking…. But… he can’t.

He can’t because Vex blinked. Vex talked to him. Vex didn’t jump to killing him as soon as he realized that Kethek was likely not who he said he was. He tried to understand. Tried to help him understand his stance in the war, even if what he understood was inherently flawed. Vex had tried to think first and fight later. And the worst part is that, every minute since his last moments with him, Kethek has agonized over the fact that maybe… if they’d had more time… he could have changed his mind. He could have let him see what the galra were responsible for. What devastation the galra could bring with the green lions powers on their side.

He hadn’t had the time. And he made the necessary choice. But it eats at him every day all the same… that maybe he could have changed his mind.

It’s what Lance is dealing with now. Because of him. Because of his story with Vex. It’s a struggle he knows far too well. Well enough that he can’t easily tell Lance that he has only one choice here, even though it’s the truth. That it’s kill or be killed. Because he, for as long as he’s lived, has never wanted to believe that in spite of the fact that it’s the ideology that he’s had to live his life by to survive. The ideology that he’s upheld and never strayed from. Not even when it came to the only person he’d formed a bond with in all the years he was a double agent.

He’s aware that their roles have reversed. Aware that when Kethek had been wrecked by the admittance of his past actions, it had been Lance telling him what he was telling Lance now.

The roles have been reversed now and it’s because Lance loves him. His heart now stops him from the complete rationality he’d been able to operate under before. They’ve both argued both sides now and it accomplishes nothing other than further cementing that there is no right answer here. At least… not when there’s so little time.

They need more time… if they want to figure this out… it… it just can’t be now. As horrible as it might feel.

It’s what he tells Lance. With a pit in his stomach and a horrible ache in his chest, he holds him close. Looks him in the eyes and tries, yet again to make the right choice, regardless of how it feels.

“You don’t have the time. The longer you wait, the more people will die, because right now all that you can guarantee… all that is sure is that the galra will follow their orders and kill innocent people, and you don’t have time to change their minds, no matter how hard you try, before it all goes to shit and innocent people lose their lives. You have a tremendous amount of power. You’re right. So use it to protect what you have the power to protect. Use it to defend what you know needs defending. Don’t use it for anything else. Whatever needs to be done to save the most lives and protect the most vulnerable, you do. That doesn’t mean you're blindly fighting just because it’s a war and that’s what’s done in wars. It means that you’re in a situation you can’t control and you have to fight to save the lives you know are innocent.”

He brushes a tear from Lance’s cheek and holds him close.

“But that being said, I’m with you no matter what you choose to do… and I’ll understand completely… if you can’t.”

Lance lets out a shaky sigh and nods, eyes still flooded with conflict. But he’s made his decision. Kethek can see it. But he knows it’s not gutting him any less.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Lance whispers, dropping his head into Kethek’s chest. “Any of this. I… I’m not sure I can take this any more.”

Kethek knows he’s referring to more than just the war. Knows he’s talking about them, too. Their relationship. The fact that Kethek had to pull him out of the room to be able to comfort him. The fact that they’ve fallen into a situation where they’ve come to need each other but can’t have each other.

He knows it’s about more than that too. About the attempts on his life. The threat constantly looming over his back. He knows it gets to him despite how little he shows it. A weaker man might have collapsed under the pressure already, but lance is so, so strong. Has been so, so strong.

But as strong as he is, everyone has a breaking point. This can not stand. Things being the way they are. Something has to break. It’s bound to.

But for now there is nothing to do but endure. So that’s what they’ll do. That’s what Lance will do.

He takes a breath, his shaky exhale warming Kethek’s neck as Lance’s hands tighten for one last squeeze around his before he pulls back and kisses Kethek’s cheek. It’s feather soft, but it’s long and it’s warm. Kethek understands it for what it is. A thank you.

Then, without another word, he turns to go back to the main deck, holding his shoulders back and schooling his face into that of a leader. Of someone who hadn’t just been crying. It’s the face of the prince Kethek had met on his first day on Altea. The one his people trusted to know exactly what to do and how to do it.

Kethek follows him into the room and watches him step back onto the podium. Kethek knows he does it with both Hunk and Vex in his heart, and knows that because of it he’ll do what’s right.

He calls out orders, every detail accounted for and planned. Like it had been just sitting on his tongue, waiting for permission to be spoken.

“I need top ranking fighters to lead the attack in formation three, the rest split off with right and left ascension. Get above them and offer support to the fray fighters. Draw them away from the planet. A fourth fleet can handle ground discourse from the upper atmosphere. There is likely to be temporary installments 100 clicks apart from each other on the planet's surface. Taking those out holds priority over attacking ground soldiers individually. When they’re all down, we can send the same fleet to land, hold off the Galran ground forces and protect civilians. The galra use infiltration tactics before mounting an attack so some have likely been planet side for phoebs and manipulated some civilians into working for them. If you notice any non galra reporting to a galran or acting strangely, the galra they’re reporting to is your main target. Eliminating them will allow for the coerced civilians to feel comfortable joining the fight. Until then, they likely fear for their lives and will do whatever the galra dictate.”

The panicked version of himself from before is nowhere to be seen in him now. He’s instead the pinnacle of competence. Of authority and respect. He quickly turns the fledgling fight into one of tactics. One that Kethek knows they can win.

They quickly take hold of the fight and earn the upper hand. But that, for Lance, was inevitable. There wasn’t any doubt he had that he’d be able to take hold of the situation. That he’d be able to take down this fleet easily. But that was the problem. Kethek can see the heartbreak plain on his face while the others celebrate the victories he’s won them. His eyes scan the monitors, immovably focused. Desperate. His ears tuned to the sound of the reports that come in from the coms receiver.

Altean’s recovered. Altean’s still missing. Civilians
Rescued and boarded onto Altean pods for transport. Coverage from Altean fighters being successful in getting the civilian pods safely away from danger. Everything was going smoothly save for a few hiccups when some of their ships took severe damage.

But it took a turn for the worse when the cruiser finally joined the fight, ion cannons charged and taking aim.

It’s a heart stopping thing, each time Kethek sees it. Both on the receiving end and from inside the cruiser itself. It’s never something that anyone can take lightly, no matter what side you’re on.

Lance has maneuvered the altean fleet into a flight pattern that will accommodate for avoiding blasts while still defending the shuttles, but it leaves risky, calculated openings that could, if they’re unlucky, cause some damage.

No doubt Lance is wishing that he could be in blue. The assistance of a lion would make this fight an easy one. The lion could take damage that the fighters can’t. It’s defenses are strong enough to battle the cruisers on its own. It could pretty much assure that there were no more casualties. But Lance can’t go. Pidge hasn’t been trained and Kethek… Kethek would create more damage in the wake of solving the problem at hand. They had to make due with what they had.

Which is why it’s almost ironic when Kethek spots an explosion on the planet's surface. A huge beam of yellow light blinds the screens for a moment before they see it. Huge… powerful… and barreling directly towards the cruisers, inserting itself between the altean fighters and the ion cannon.

The yellow lion.

Lance lets out a gasp. For the briefest of moments there’s terror in his eyes. A fear that perhaps it is on the side of the galra. That somehow they had found a lion without anyone knowing. But a tick more and his terror turns to an outright joy and relief- a grin consuming his worried face when Hunks voice crackles over the coms.

“Hi, uh, to whoever can hear me? I’m kinda just pressing buttons I- I don’t even know if this is the com link. The giant cat robot told me I think but I could be delusional, I’m not sure, yeah anyway… I found a lion?! And I’m kinda freaking out?! I’m not a quiznacking pilot and I have no idea what I’m doing!!! If you could get prince Lance for me that would be great!”

Laughing in what could only be described as bewilderment as the yellow lion endures hit after hit just long enough to get the fleet to regroup and avoid the blasts to take out the galran attackers, Lance scrambles to get to the coms desk, heaving sighs of relief as he watched Hunk, likely unintentionally, divert the ion cannons aim from the planet to instead target him.

The lion looks clumsy. If only slightly. Bumping into things and trusting it’s strength over its skill. Doing plenty enough damage even without Hunk knowing exactly what he was doing.

Because the yellow lion is huge. Massive. Because even from the castle monitors, Kethek can tell that it’s just… enormous. In that mind bending way that all the lions are, just… more so. The yellow lion is one of the biggest out of the five and it shows.

It’s also very fitting, wonderfully enough, of its new Paladin. Strong. Powerful. Larger than life.

Lance fumbles to quickly open a com link to Hunk and the tears in his eyes are thick as he screams his name.

“Hunk!! You- ha! You’re ok!!! And you found the yellow lion?!”

But Hunk breezes right over formalities and goes right to screaming, panic evident in his voice.

“Lance, buddy, I’m FREAKING out right now!!! I’ve got about 100 civilians stuffed on this thing and I’m very much NOT a pilot!!!”

“Y-yes, yes! I can help! I can help Hunk, it’s ok! Just- just trust the lion! Avoid the blast from the ion cannon and I’ll make sure you have cover- though- it looks like you don’t really need it- just- just trust what she tells you. You’ll be ok!”

Lance’s grin is infectious. His tears too. Even Kethek can’t help the pull of a small smile at his own lips, relief flooding through his body.

He wants to hug Lance. Wants to do… something… other than just stand there with his arms crossed. And the urge only grows as the realization hits them. Since his arrival to Altea, three lions have been recovered. Four including blue and all five… they’ll have access to all five lions when the yellow lion returns home and the black lions chambers will open for the first time since Alfor locked it away.

It’s actually incredible… too incredible to even wrap his mind around. Five lions in the same place again. And not only do they have the lions, but for the first time ever… they have four Paladins.

Lance throws a look over his shoulder to grin tearfully at Kethek, who, given the elation of the moment and the overall atmosphere, is able to smile right back at him, sincerely, without turning heads. He wants to pull him close and hug him. Tell him that everything was going to be alright. Instead he kept his arms at his back and let Lance continue with his duties. Watched him scramble to be of assistance to Hunk in any way he could. Tie up the loose ends of the battle. Relay important info to Hunk who, by his own admission, had never piloted a ship in his life.

And Lance is so clear in his instruction. Knowing what to do like the back of his hand. Kethek can see the longing behind his eyes. In the way he moves. Like he’s sitting inside blue, pointing at every button. It’s like he’s channeling that feeling he surely got in blue. Of adrenaline, and usefulness, and loving it through Hunk. Talking him through it. Assuring his friend.

Kethek isn’t sure if it’s just because he’s committed himself to understanding the prince since the moment he got here, learning every little tick he has and memorizing it but he can physically see that ache in his chest written out in his body language and face. An ache still present underneath the joy he feels at the same time. The heartbreak of not being where he thinks he could be most useful.

But Lance also just opened a wormhole. An ability nobody knew he even had. He was a strategist. A person who would find an option if none existed. He didn’t give up. On anything. Or anyone. And it makes Kethek’s chest ache too. With a lot of things. With love. And fear. Terrible fear. Fear of all the things that threatened him. Fear of anything that could dampen that glow. Diffuse that spark. And even before he knew it was love, Kethek knows that fear has been there since the moment he arrived. Now… it was just… overwhelming in its intensity.

It’s then that Kethek hears the frantic clack of heels from down the hall. He sees Lance's ears perk at the sound too but he doesn’t let it distract his focus. Allura had arrived. Most likely she’d be frantic. Distraught at the fact that she wasn’t there when she was needed.

Kethek hopes she’ll be proud of Lance and not scold him. They all know he’s extremely capable, and Allura, in a way somewhat similar to Kethek, fears that capability. A fear that manifests very differently, but a similar fear nonetheless. It’s perhaps the one thing… if anything… that Kethek can find common ground with her on.

She bursts through the doors of the bridge, panic in her eyes and immediately is swarmed with updates. When she sees Kethek standing his post behind Lance, she breezes past him. She doesn’t offer him scornful looks much anymore. Instead she seemingly just… accepts his presence. Getting used to it, perhaps.

She rushes to Lance, who turns to look down at her, seemingly unsure, same as Kethek, if she’ll have words of encouragement to give him, or words of scorn.

“You opened a wormhole?!?” She cries, cutting right to the chase. “How?!”

“I don’t know.” Lance responds simply.

“Did you know you could do this??”

“No.”

“Are you ok??”

“I almost passed out, but I’m fine.”

Allura puts a hand through her perfect hair, head clearly swimming before remembering that Lance was standing at the comms panel and not at the podium.

“Who are you communicating with?” She asks.

“Hunk.” Lance replies, a grin helplessly covering his face.

“Hunk?” Allura responds. “He’s alright?”

“He’s the yellow Paladin.” He says, grin growing bigger.

“He found the yellow lion?!”

“And flew it, with a few hundred civilians to safety. He’s coming back now.”

“Now?”

“With a broken arm, we should call for medical personnel to be there for his arrival. As well as for any of the civilians.”

Lance turns to a lieutenant nearby as he says it, wordlessly assigning her to the task. She runs off at his command after nodding once and bowing.

The information slides over the Queen all at once, her eyes wide. There’s a moment of silence as she takes it all in, and then, thankfully, she’s smiling too. She jumps to hug Lance. A bewildered look on her face.

“We have all the lions back?!?” She cheers.

“We have all the lions back.” Lance confirms.

“And we have three Paladins!”

Lance looks to Kethek then. Subtly while his sister is distracted recounting the news for herself. There’s a question in his eyes. One that asks “what are we going to do? When can she know?”

The answer is, as of now… that she won’t know until she needs to know. And Lance looking to him was to confirm that. But Kethek knows how he wishes to tell her. Knows he thinks that it could mend things somehow. But as they’ve discussed… there is too much risk involved.

Allura looks back up to Lance, who quickly and skillfully diverts his eyes away from Kethek just in time to meet hers.

“I'm so proud of you, Lance.” She tells him with a smile. And Lance smiles too.

“If you’d not been on a little tour around the kingdom, I wouldn’t have had to raise your expectations of me.” He teases. Pulling a lock of her hair in a very ‘younger brother’ type of way.

Allura rolls her eyes, but apologizes sincerely and in no time at all, Lance's walls that he always wears around his sister gradually lower… just a bit. Kethek can see the relief in his eyes. The subtle joy at their ability to have such a lighthearted exchange. He hates fighting with her. It’s clear as day to Kethek and he wants him to stay this hopeful. He wants Allura to give him that… that hope. And yet Kethek feels in his gut that the better it seems to get, the worse the inevitable fallout will be. When all his secrets have to come out. When everything they’ve kept from her comes to the forefront. He knows it’s the reason Lance never quite let’s himself relax around her anymore. And Kethek hates that he’s part of the reason why.

It never ceases to boggle him. How he managed to get in so deep. How this simple mission turned into love and life or death secrets with royalty. Some of the most powerful people in the war. How he got so involved. He knows exactly how. He knows it’s that smile the prince wears. The spark in his eyes. His joy and his fear and his playfulness and his competence and his compassion and care and love and strength and he knows he would have always been helpless to it. He just wishes it could be easier. That they didn’t have to keep anything from anyone.

When they eventually make their way out, Lance looks behind him at the room and must decide the coast is clear because he runs a hand down Kethek’s back to squeeze his hand. Just subtly enough to pass by unnoticed, but firm enough that Kethek can’t miss it. Can’t mistake the love within it.

It makes him ache with all those same feelings of protectiveness and fear and sadness and happiness and love. That sickening concoction of contradictory feelings that always leave him feeling dizzy and nauseous. A nausea that worsens the instant his hand loses contact and Kethek can’t reach out to return the gesture. Especially when he knows that under all his bravado and smiles, Lance is still crippled and hurting and probably beyond greatful that Allura hadn’t been there to see his momentary break.

Kethek follows them out as he always does, excited to see Hunk as Hunk was nice to everybody and it wouldn’t turn heads for him to congratulate him and outwardly express his pride. But the pit in his gut tells him… somehow…. Some time… everything… everything will break in the worst way possible.

——

Lance’s heart was just about to leap out of his throat, the sight of Hunk exiting out of the yellow lion with so many of the missing and presumed dead civilians.

The completely massive, mind breakingly gigantic yellow lion towers over them in the hangar, almost seeming to glow. It’s so tall Lance can barely see the lion's face standing so close to the base, and it fills him up with an indescribable… giddy sort of awe that leaves his entire body buzzing. That leaves him feeling so, so small and yet so large in his excitement. Enough so that He doesn’t care an ounce about formalities right now. He may be the prince of Altea but first and foremost, he’s Hunk’s best friend. And his best friend just awoke the yellow lion and saved hundreds of civilians on a planet that was supposed to be peaceful and was not supposed to give him any trouble.

Hunk spots him right away and gives a big, bashful grin that makes Lance giddy with pride. He runs, crashing into him (though careful of his very clearly broken arm) and wraps his arms around him, feeling so relieved and elated that he can’t formulate words for several long ticks.

He can feel Hunk’s chest rumble with laughter as he delicately attempts to hold him back.

He’s worse for wear but he still has a grin on his face, his amber eyes still as kind and as warm as ever.

Lance pulls back, holding his shoulders as he goes, giving him a smile of his own, though his is significantly more tearful and so damn proud.

“You’re the perfect fit.” He smiles, shaking his head. “So perfect… I… I can’t believe it was right in front of me the whole time! Hunk!! You’re a Paladin!!! Like me!!”

“I guess what your dad always said about Paladins having entwined fates and shared destiny was right!” Hunk smiles, though still looking disbelieving. “I just didn’t think that meant childhood best bud level of entwined.”

Lance laughs, loud and bright wiping a tear from his cheek and, overwhelmed with a torrent of all those emotions he felt, pulls him in again to hug him.

“How’s your arm?'' he asked then, suddenly growing concerned at the sight of it twisted in a makeshift sling.

“Hurts like a steaming pile of hell.” Hunk replied, almost nonchalant save for the pinched expression he wore. “One of the civilians was a medic so she did what she could to secure it but I think I need a good hour in a pod, because I definitely broke a couple ribs too.”

Lance's jaw dropped.

“A couple?! Hunk!!! Show some quiznacking pain and tell me that!!! I just hugged you like… 10 times!!!”

“I’m fine!” Hunk assured. “I just want to make sure you’re fin-“

“DOCTOR SALREATA!!” Lance screamed over his shoulder then, cutting Hunk off in almost a comical way.

The doctor rushed over, having been standing by at the ready with their team.

“Hunk- the yellow Paladin- has several broken bones and may be delusional because for some reason he cares more about making sure I’m ok when I’m literally perfectly fine and if he wasn’t hurt I’d slap him!” Lance told the doctor, despite directing all his words to Hunk.

Hunk had the audacity to blush and his good natured-ness was enough to have him rolling his eyes.

“Please give him the best care, and take him away before I hurt him more.”

The doctor nodded with a bow to Lance before carefully ushering Hunk off to the med bay, leaving he, Kethek, and Allura to tend to the masses of people still exiting the yellow lion. The Altean guards were ushering them out and Allura stood at the head of the crowd, two guards flanking her, to prepare to address them.

Lance readies himself to leave, his duties requiring him to head back to the bridge and tie up the battle and gather reports from front line soldiers who would tell him more information about what all happened while Allura dealt with the altean politics of the aftermath. Assigning living arrangements to those who had been displaced, and procuring transport to those who had been on Hoxxan for trade and had homes to return to.

The soldiers would be waiting for him. He looks to Kethek and gives him a nod in the direction of the door and Kethek steps forward to follow. But before they can exit, Allura looks pointedly to Lance, seemingly calculating something.

“Lance,” she says then, reaching out to stop him. “If you have the time, I’d like for you to stay to greet the civilians. I think they will be comforted in hearing your words. Because of your past influence on the front lines of this war, they may be more familiar with you than they are with me. Not seeing you in recent battles… well I know it has made those fighting in and affected by the war wary. You could help ease their minds and encourage them if you spoke to them.”

Lance blinked, pausing himself before he said what he truly wanted to say. That he could have been on the front lines this entire time. That it was her decree that he stay locked in the castle that planted those seeds of uncertainty in the coalition. That he’d never wanted to be absent from the war. That it was his duty, as they’d declared it on Allura’s coronation, that he would be responsible for all of Altea’s off-planet responsibilities.

He would manage the war. The alliance. He would confront the threats that Altea faced before they breached the atmosphere. And Allura would be the Queen their people needed. The guardian of Altea. The protector of their culture. She would manage altean politics. Finances. She would be dedicated to the alteans. To their culture, their traditions, to their home.

That’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what they agreed to. He’d never wanted to hide from the fight.

The words build up in his chest, ready to burst out as he’d grown accustomed to letting them do recently, but he bites his tongue and swallows them down. It wasn’t the time, nor the place. Allura knew well her part in all of this. She knew that Lance would have gone right to Hoxxan himself. That this worry rippling through the coalition that she was speaking of was because of her decision. And Lance was trying more and more to respect that decision. He understood it. Hell he maybe, deep down, agreed with it. But he didn’t like it. Didn’t want to understand it. Wanted to reject it.

If he’d ignored Allura’s orders to have him stay in the castle after the first attack and and continued fighting, he knows with a gut churning certainty that if the galra gave the same amount of effort in killing him via a team of assassins off planet than they did in his own castle, he would have been killed the instant his lion didn’t shield him. He’s imagined the worst case scenarios thousands of times in his head. He’d land on a recently liberated planet only to be bombarded by assassins, putting everyone around him at risk. And then, the blue lion, which he’d piloted there, would be captured by the galra, now free to find a new Paladin and god knows what that would lead to.

Despite everything that made him want to resent staying locked up in the castle, things were actually going well. They’d just found the yellow lion for Altea’s sake. All the lions had returned. Honestly it was a feat he’d never imagined achieving through a communications screen. He’d always believed that he would have had to be out in the universe to find them. But against all odds, they were winning, and he knows he made the right choice in agreeing to stay. It just wasn’t something he wanted to admit or accept. Not with how much it hurt not to be involved. Not with how deeply he ached for his independence again.

But he’d been trying to at least acknowledge it, And it’s what stops him from lashing out. Instead he nods to Allura. Not looking her in the eyes as he says “quickly” looking at the now gathered group of ragged civilians that all have their eyes trained on him.

He can imagine their perspective, and it makes him self conscious - a feeling he doesn’t let himself experience often. It feels like their thoughts echo through his head. A desperate curiosity towards him. The elusive prince, who one day disappeared from their sides and only was heard from over a com link, barking commands or through orders passed on from those who’d met with him and carried his words to the masses for him. It makes his gut churn. He hates it. He wants to be seen. He doesn’t want to be an enigma. A phantom. A glimmer in the corner that’s gone before it can be recognized. He wants to be that ever present, confident leader he’d promised them he’d be.

And yet… Now it feels different. Now he’s not sure he’s the same leader he’d been. Because he thinks of what he might have told them, back before assassins destroyed every part of his life that had been familiar and replaced it with fear and uncertainty. He would have tried to be like his father. He would have stood tall and spoke of unity without sparing a thought to the galra. He would have promised an end to the war, no matter the cost. But now. He’s self conscious. And he’s hesitant. And it’s not just because it’s been a while.

He looks to Kethek, who’s eyes, of course, are already on him. Studying him. He looks at him and the memory of gentle hands press into his waist. Crest over his cheeks and squeeze into his thighs. Phantom touches that he’d gifted him. Captured moments of mind breaking, universe shattering love that, at one point in time, might have never been shared between them. Might have been eclipsed by his duty to the war. Kethek… and him… what they have now has changed him. He can’t deny it. Can’t help but to confront it. Love it, and want to make it known through his every action.

Maybe this moment… when he’s back in the focus of these people who look to him for strength, he can try to do that. Try to love Kethek through what he does… if he can’t yet love him outright.

Allura is saying something akin to an apology. Heartfelt and sincere. She promises them Altea’s continued protection. And then she beckons Lance, and maybe it’s all in his head… maybe he’s making it into something bigger than it is, but he feels like the room holds its breath. He feels a desperation rise into the air and fill his lungs.

He decides he can’t beat around the bush.

“I wasn’t there today.” He tells them. “And if I had it my way, that would never have been the case. I’m complying with a course of action I feel is the safest one at this moment in time, but I feel no complacency in having to stay on Altea and participate in this war from afar. It is my hope to eventually return to the fight. And if we are to win this war, it will be necessary. But for now I offer you this… We were fantastically blessed today. We succeeded in an unexpected and wonderful way. We have a yellow Paladin. And we also have a green Paladin. This is not something we have seen, ever, and the advantage they bring us should bring each of you a plethora of hope. They have done so for me.”

“I promise I will commit myself to training the new Paladins so they can participate in my stead until it is safe for me. But also, I need it to be known that what endangers me is not the galra. It is hatred. It’s misunderstanding. It’s war for war's sake. The power we have gained is not something I will yield lightly. But I will yield it to ensure that all those who are victims, no matter who they are, find justice.

He nods, mostly to himself, satisfied enough with his message and decides to conclude. He wishes them well. Thanks them for their bravery, and hopes… hopes that something from what he said makes the kind of impact he wanted.

Kethek reads him plainly, as he’s gotten so good at doing, and escorts him out before the encouraging applause from the people stop. He walks close to him, enough that Lance imagines he can feel his warmth graze over his skin and his heart settles. Just enough.

Lance wants to talk to him. Wants to thank him for his help earlier. For his attempts at comfort on the wormhole podium and for taking charge when he’d started to break down. For having a clear head and doing exactly what he needed to help him calm down. But the halls of the castle are bustling with the yellow lions arrival, and all he can do, as usual, is sneak glances at Kethek’s blank expression and remind himself of all that he keeps hidden underneath it. Of the love that’s there. The thought of that always calms him.

And just like that they’re in another meeting room with more people and more responsibility. It’s nothing new… it just feels… heavier somehow.

The gathered group bows when he enters, Kethek takes his post at the door, hand poised on the hilt of his blade, and the highest ranking officer who was involved in the battle relays to him what happened on the ground of Hoxxan.

He reports that Hunk, who he is now only referring to as “the yellow Paladin” had gone into a mineshaft to rescue a group of civilians that he assumes were to be used for ransom. The soldier tells him he assumes that he found the yellow lion in the mine somehow as the next he saw him the mountain had been blown apart from the force of his exit before he’d landed and ushered everyone in, while the soldiers held off attackers with a shoot out.

“And what of the galra who had taken the captives into the mines.” Lance asks.

“The yellow Paladin knocked the three of them out. They were unconscious and confined in the yellow lion by the time I arrived. We have taken them to the castle prisons to be further interrogated.”

Lance nods, relieved that Hunk, in all the chaos he surely endured, had the mind to secure the galran soldiers in the ship and not leave them in the mines.

The soldier continues with the briefing while Lance's mind admittedly starts to wander on the prior topic, but he’s snapped back to attention when a stack of papers is set in front of him.

Condolence letters.

He holds in his sigh and bites back his tears as he sits down and takes the pen offered to him. The first name in the pile is one he recognizes. A kind woman who had trained with him on occasion when he was still improving his marksmanship. It had been phoebs since they’d last crossed paths, but it still stung deep. He hated this. Hated having to sign his name at the bottom of the page. As though he was accepting their deaths. As though any of this was ok. He knew the devastation these letters would bring to their families, and he hated that his name had to be tied to it.

Each letter felt like a promise broken. But he knows, as horrible as it sounds, that this was unavoidable in a time of war. That no matter how much he tried to do, This was expected.

He remembers the first war meeting he attended as a child with his father. He remembers the moment that he watched his father go through this process.

At the time he’d admired his efficiency and control, knowing that his father was likely upset but didn’t let it show. He’d not shown a lot of emotion at all after his mother died, and Lance remembers with a painful, vivid clarity, how broken he’d been that night, and the several quintants after. It was a motion he’s never seen from him before. And it was an emotion that he felt in his own heart, tenfold.

He himself had been unable To leave his bed for what felt like an endless amount of Quaintants, eventually becoming so exhausted from sobbing that all he could do was lay in devastated silence and feel the weight grow heavier over his chest.

He dreads the fact that these letters he signs would soon bring that same fate onto the families of the fallen. It’s partially what had, at first, made his job as a commander of an army so easy for him. Knowing that the more battles he won, the less families would be hurt and the less letters he would have to sign. But now everything was layered in so much more complexity than he’d ever expected. Now he had to think about the letters he doesn’t sign that still go out to broken families. The letters that are his fault.

His generals remain oblivious to his internal devastation, however and the stack of letters in front of him this time is not as high as they’ve been in the past, and for both of these things, he’s thankful.

As much as he resents needing to put on a strong image and act unaffected, just as his father did, he knows it’s what’s best at this time. Knows his strength will encourage theirs. So he does his job, promising himself that he’d be the one to make the changes that prevent these moments from happening at all.

He is free to retire once he makes it to the last page and with considerable effort, he forces himself to turn that defeated feeling in his chest into determination.

It builds as he exchanges conclusionary pleasantries with all the soldiers and officials in the room and after what feels like the longest of days, he moves on to his favorite and final part of the day. The walk back to his room with Kethek. And it’s on this silent walk, that the idea hits him.

The excuse for him accompanying him into his room comes easy now. He’d planned on asking Kethek in anyways but now there’s an idea in his head. A risky idea, and kethek might be the only one to hear him out so Today it was a simple, “could you go over the castle wide security reports that I missed while attending to the battle with me before I retire. I'm fatigued after everything so I’d prefer to do so at my desk.”

He says it in the most disinterested voice he can muster, trying to suppress his sudden urgency, and Kethek, as always, just bows slightly in compliance.

They don’t have him enter his room often to ensure that it’s not something that draws attention, but when they do, it’s become simple to lie their way through the doors. Kethek rarely knows when Lance will decide it’s appropriate to ask him to come into his room, but he’s excellent at acting on his feet and rarely refuses him.

As soon as the door is securely shut, he lets the words he’d been holding in burst from his lips.

“Kethek, I want to talk to the galran soldiers.”

Kethek blinks at him, surely having expected the usual routine of Lance instantly cuddling up in to him as soon as he got the chance, and Lance fully intended to still do so, but his mind was racing now.

“I know you’ll have to accompany me to the prison, but I could have guards sent down to gather information about what fleets they’ve served in and ensure that none of them overlap with any you’ve served on, but I also understand if you just don’t want to be there but I feel like this might be an opportunity to try and understand and talk to galra who aren’t a part of the blade. Galra who probably hate me and everything I stand for!”

“You sound more excited about putting yourself in harm's way than makes me comfortable.” Kethek says, looking unsure.

“Think about it, Kethek! When else am I going to have this opportunity from within the walls of the castle! Even if it doesn’t go well, I at least have the opportunity to try the one thing I haven’t yet been able to do, and that’s talk to the galra. The galra who aren’t Zarkon or his generals and die hard believers!

“These soldiers could be die hard believers, Lance, we have no way of knowing, and you could put more of a target on yourself the more you interact with them.”

Lance sighs, taking Kethek’s hands in his, knowing that for whatever reason, doing so has a way of softening Kethek when he gets particularly defensive of him.

“I know you have my best interest, Kethek.” He tells him. “And I know you’re concerned, but I feel like this is something I have to at least try to do. If it goes horribly wrong I won’t ask you to do it again. I promise.”

Kethek then sighs too, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“It’s… more than that, Lance. I’m… I need you to understand the depths of galran loyalties. It’s… it’s-“

“It’s as deep as your loyalty to me. And mine to you. I understand. You’ve shown me.”

“No, that’s the problem, Lance, I’m… I’m not a good model. I was raised on Earth, Human. I may be galra and I may share their nature, but I am exempt from the years of war and upbringing that have painted the beliefs of these soldiers. And as much as I share the nature of the galra in loyalty and drive, I’m human too. I will always exist outside of the intensity that most all galra believe in their convictions with. The galran ships are literally coded to only be accessible to galra. To any galra. Anyone who has a drop of galra blood. They believed at the start of the war, when they made all their devices and defenses and ships that it was not possible for Galra to ever not have the interests of other Galra in mind.”

“Then that was a grave oversight.” Lance says, as though it’s simple. “We know that’s not the truth. The Blade of Marmora stands loyal to us. They had the same upbringing as all other galra and they still chose the right way.”

The Blade are different too though, Lance. If they weren't born into the blade and raised with their beliefs, they are… anomalies. To the Galra, the Blade would be considered unfathomably immoral. To a degree that, at the start of this war… they deemed impossible. It’s not naivete on their part to code their ships to galra DNA, it literally goes against their nature as a species to betray their own.”

“Then how do the Blade exist?” Lance questions, a challenge.

“The Blades act within their nature, just… just towards a different cause. They act as galra as any other, their loyalties are just… altered. And it’s that mental agility… the ability to think so deeply about their loyalties enough to realize, even through the pull of their own nature that asks them to be loyal above all else, that they were on the wrong side and that they needed to shift their loyalties entirely. That is what makes them so formidable and It’s not something you’ll confront commonly within the galran people. I’ll never be sure if it was something Vex could have done…. And it’s not something I suspect we’ll see from three soldiers in altean captivity after a failed mission.

“I honestly disagree, Kethek.” Lance tells him firmly. “Nature or not, everyone has free will. Everyone, with time, has the capacity to understand. The Blade are anomalies in that they could understand it quickly. But that doesn’t mean we should give up on everyone else. Them being in captivity gives them- us… the one thing we rarely get to have together in a war. Time! And I feel like I need to take that opportunity. I have to.”

Kethek sighs. And then, after a minute of contemplation, he nods, accepting.

“I’ll go with you.” He tells him. “So long as you’re aware that we might not be successful the first time around. Or any time around. Also the prison is one of the most heavily guarded areas of the castle. The camera feeds will be listened in on, and Allura will be made aware of anything you say.”

“That’s fine. She’ll only hear me trying to be kind. If she has a problem with that then I can argue my way out of it.”

“And I enter first.” Kethek continues, his protectiveness flaring. “ I will go, determine the level of threat they pose, and only after it’s safe will you go in.”

Lance nods, willing to comply. He opens his mouth to tell him ok, but Kethek abruptly begins to speak again before he can push out the sound.

“And you need to be strong. They won’t respond to pleasantries and niceties. They’ll think you’re insulting them. Or if they recognize it as genuine they could see it as weakness. You have to be strong with them. Say whatever you wish to say but say it without making yourself seem like you are in any way responsible or remorseful for their captivity.”

“They broke several of my best friends' bones.” Lance says, turning up his nose. “They deserve to be there, that is not a question.”

And this time when Kethek opens his mouth to continue again, it’s Lance who stops him, shushing him with a finger over his lips.

“Kethek, it’s ok. Calm down.” He soothes, watching in real time as his sharp teeth reduce in length and his eyes lose their galra glow, just a bit.

Lance moved the hand from Kethek’s lips to slide his palm over his cheek and down his jaw, fingers threading strands of hair behind his ear as he went.

Lance leans in to kiss him, lips finding Kethek’s gently. Kethek stands stock still and rigid for the first few moments, but he melts. He always melts, just a moment after, giving into Lance's touches. Letting himself be molded into him.

Lance doesn’t take his trust lightly. He never will. Never will block himself from understanding Kethek’s love as anything other than what it is. A gift.

Lance has the sudden thought then of seeing if Kethek was willing to go further, opening his mouth into the kiss- his breaths laboring as he does so, but Kethek resists him. Albeit unwillingly. The intent in Lance’s actions was clear enough for him to catch on to, but it makes him stop, forehead braced against Lance’s as he breathes and seems to gain control of himself.

“We can’t.” He whispers remorsefully against his lips. “Not tonight. I can’t stay long.”

Lance's heart hurts a little at that, but he nods, accepting. Knowing it’s for the best. Having sex would put their scents all over eachother and though it wasn’t neccisarily a threat with no galra other than Kethek around to smell it, the situation was too new right now to trust that nothing would change. They had several civilians in the castle who had not been security checked. Shiro had just returned, Hunk was hurt. Honestly the more he thought about it the more distracted he got. And he didn’t want his mind to wander in a similar way when he was with Kethek. He wanted to commit all of himself to him in those rare moments that he could.

Now was not the time.

Lance sighs, and closes the tiny gap between their lips to kiss him again, shorter this time, before he too pulls away.

“Come to bed with me then.” He says. “Just until I fall asleep. It’s getting harder and harder to stand being so distant from you during the day”

Kethek hesitates, but then nods, caving in.

“Until you fall asleep.” He agrees softly.

“Lance smiles at him, nodding quickly before rushing off to get ready, trying to be respectful of the fact that Kethek said he didn’t have much time.

He sees Kethek move to take a seat on the couch in his vanity mirror as he takes off all his jewelry and smiles to himself at the fact that Kethek looks… comfortable in his space now.

He starts stripping as he realizes that Kethek likely fully intends to get into his bed dressed in full blade armor and scoffs.

He’s hanging up his tunic as he looks over his shoulder to chastise him.

“You going to change?” He asks.

“No…?” Kethek replies, “I thought we agreed that I’m not staying tonight?”

Lance internally coos as the cuteness of Kethek’s visible disappointment at that statement, but shucks off his pants for emphasis.

“If you expect me to be able to fall asleep cuddled against the hard armor of a chest plate, think again.” He tells him.

Kethek blinks at him confusedly before understanding eventually hits him.

“Oh.” He says. “I guess you're right.”

Lance chuckles and walks over to him, now dressed only in a long sleep shirt.

“Just take off the armor, you can wear your undersuit.” He says, smiling at him. “Here, allow me to help you this time.”

Lance pulls Kethek to his feet with his hands and draws him in close. He unclasps the armor in the back where he knows the latch to be and lets the pieces fall into his waiting hands. Discarding them on the couch, he smiles as kethek toes off his boots, blushing.

It takes a few moments but once Kethek is totally stripped of his armor and left in his undersuit, his every curve exposed, he takes a risk and jumps up into Kethek’s arms, giggling as kethek stumbles to catch him but eventually secures him in his arms, his hand around his thighs, holding him up on his waist.

Kethek, though he’s blushing, can’t help a little smile, rolling his eyes at Lance’s antics and turning on his heel to carry him to his bed.

“You aren’t going to make make this easy for me, huh, he says, laying Lance down on the sheets.”

“If I did, I’d never get to see you blush.” Lance smiles, pulling him down with him so that Kethek had to fall on top of him.

And finally as Kethek stumbled to hold himself up over Lance, his smile came out, bright and sweet and beautiful, giving in to Lance’s game and dropping his walls. Even now it took some coaxing for him to get Kethek this comfortable. He’s very proud of himself for being able to do it and always proud of Kethek too, for being able to.

Eventually Kethek settles at his side after exchanging kisses and Lance hears him chuckle as he gets comfortable and it makes him melt.

He shuffles over to rest his head in the crook of Kethek’s neck taking a deep breath.

“Thank you for being here.” He tells him.

Kethek kisses the top of his head.

“Glad that I can be. I know today was hard for you.”

Lance sighs, the giddiness inside himself muting just a bit at the thought of the day he’d had.

“You made it ok.” He says, lacing his legs further into Kethek’s beneath the sheets and trying not to let his anxieties come back to him and sully the first bit of peace he’d felt that day. “Thank you for being there. Abd for taking charge. And knowing what I needed. We won today because of you.

Kethek scoffs. “I can’t take credit for anything. Especially what you did on that podium.” He tells him. “I had no idea you could open wormholes.”

“Until I did it, I couldn’t. I never had.”

“Had you tried before?” Kethek asks.

“Yeah… I’d trained with my mother and everything and she always told me alchemy was a part of me or whatever, but I just… couldn’t access it. Not without a serious amount of exhaustive effort or being desperate enough. My alchemy always manifested in small ways. Healing minor cuts and bruises… reinvigorating the plants in the garden… dumb stuff. Some Altean’s just don’t have a connection to their alchemy. Like coran. That’s what we thought my situation was. When I was young, and especially in comparison to Allura, I didn’t seem to have a connection to it at all.”

“I was desperate today.” He continues. “Terrified. And that’s the only reason anything happened.”

“Will it ever hurt you?” Kethek asked, ever concerned for his safety as usual. “Today it seemed like you were in pain…. And I wasn’t sure if I should have stopped you… if you would pass out, or hurt yourself.”

Lance smiles, feeling the way Kethek’s arms grip tighter around him.

“It hasn’t happened yet. He replies softly, carding a hand through the cool wisps of Kethek’s hair. “I promise I will stop myself if I ever feel it gets to that point. You don’t have to worry.”

And his words must relax him, because he takes a deep sigh and out of the corner of his eye, Lance catches the exposed skin of Kethek’s hand turn ever so slightly less purple.

He pulls back then to look at Kethek’s face and sees the haze of indigo irises behind a fading gold and he smiles. It makes Kethek furrow his brow in question as Lance continues carding fingers through his hair.

Maybe he can see Keith. If he plays his cards right. The prospect excites him. It’s a part of him he is still so unfamiliar with, though he knows logically, nothing changes other than his appearance. He knows that Kethek is the same person as Keith, but his curiosity gets the better of him. Keith was human, and Lance was used to Kethek’s gaze. He wanted to be comfortable under both. He wanted to know the man he loved in every way he could. He wanted to know his every facet and cherish him in every form he took.

“Tell me a happy story about your life.” Lance whispers. “Maybe once from Earth? I’ve heard stories about everything else but that.”

Kethek, who still is slowly shifting to look more and more like Keith, smiles.

It’s a sad smile, and Lance wonders, immediately, if he’d asked for too much.

“I don’t talk about happy stories from Earth because I don’t have a lot of them.” Kethek says. “The ones I remember most vividly are some of the worst memories I have.”

Kethek sighs again, blinking at a point just beyond Lance as he thinks.

“And I don’t always let myself remember the good stuff because they might hurt even more than the bad.”

“Because you miss them.” Lance says.

Kethek looks back to Lance and nods, the sad smile he’d been wearing coming back.

“But most of my happiest memories are with Shiro… so maybe… now that he’s… back, it will be different.”

Lance remembers the vision he’d accidentally seen in the mind meld. Remembers Shiro’s death from Kethek’s perspective so vividly it makes bile rise in his throat. The pure agony and devastation. It’s undoubtedly the memory Kethek thought of every time a happy memory of shiro passed his mind. Each bit of joy from his home and his life before the war now punctuated with one of the most traumatic moments of his life.

But he survived. Somehow. As much as it looked like he’d died, Lance supposed Keith, at the time, hadn’t been in enough of his right mind to check and make certain. Let alone think that he needed to. Even from the perspective of the mind meld, Lance agreed… that he had died.

“Shiro is back now.” Lance says to Kethek. In spite of his spiraling thoughts on the matter. “He survived and he’s safe here. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure of that.”

Kethek smiled at him and leans forward to kiss his forehead. It’s warm and slow and it melts Lance so completely he forgets to breathe until Keith pulls away, resting their foreheads together briefly before pulling away. And yes, he's Keith now. Fully and completely. Indigo eyes staring back into his.

It’s the first time he’s seen their color so close, and it makes his heart skip erratically. How was it possible for someone to look so beautiful in two completely different forms?

Unable to help himself, Lance brings a hand to his cheek, as if somehow it would feel different. But it’s the same, if not just slightly softer under his touch.

Keith seems to realize what had happened and his irises narrow just slightly with what Lance assumes are nerves.

Lance doesn’t waste a second in quelling them and leans in once more to press his lips into his, letting Keith know, in no subtle terms, that there was nothing changed between them when he was in a different form. He knows Keith only exists now in moments of tranquility and happiness. And the thought of him even being able to feel at peace enough… after so long of not even knowing how… knowing that he could give that to him… it was the best feeling in the world.

When he pulls back a final time, he smiles.

“Lovely to see you, Keith.” he teases, “Just letting you know that Kethek promised me a bedtime story, but I’ll also take one from you.”

Keith chuckles and the sound is so soft and warm and pure and Lance thinks it’s his favorite sound other than the purr, which he suddenly realizes he probably can’t even do in his human form.

But he resigns himself to confirm that suspicion later as Keith resituates himself so that Lance could tuck into his side and clears his throat in a little bit of playful showmanship.

“So Shiro was terminally ill the whole time I knew him.” Keith begins. And Lance literally can’t help the gasp that comes out of him. It caught him so off guard it felt like a punch to the face and he can’t help the impulse to slap his arm.

“I thought we agreed on a happy story! My god, is any part of your life not tragic?!?”

“It is a happy story!!” Keith defends, “I just thought you could use some context!”

“THAT is the context to a happy story?!”

“Yes! Do you want me to tell you the story or not!”

“Ok! Ok, go on.” Lance huffed, now nervous for what Keith considered to be happy and thinking dreadfully that in comparison to the rest of his life even sad things could be happy.

“Shiro had been terminally ill his whole life.” Keith continued with a small huff. “And he didn’t tell me at first. He didn’t really tell anyone. Only a few people close to him and his boyfriend knew, and I kind of found out without him really wanting me to know, though I think he always planned to tell me at some point. It’s some muscular deterioration issue that he has where he wasn’t projected to live through his twenties. When I found out, of course it terrified me. Shiro took me in and he was pretty much the only person I had. Knowing he wouldn’t be in my life for as long as I thought after being alone for so long… It was one of the worst feelings in the world. I literally couldn’t sleep at night, knowing one day I’d wake up and he wouldn’t be there. That someone would have to tell me he was gone.”

Lance’s heart ached. He had so many questions, but he bit his tongue, reveling in the calm timbre of Keith’s deep voice and not wanting to distract him or upset him when he was telling such a personal story.

“It was on one of the worst nights I’d had when Shiro came to my room in the middle of the night.” Keith continued. “He snuck me out of the dorms and took me riding out in the desert… probably because he knew I was upset and wanted to cheer me up before he talked to me…”

“And then we’d landed back at the Garrison and he took us up to the roof and he told me everything. Every detail. Every surgery. Everything. He trusted me with it completely. Somehow he’d understood how it was worse for me to make assumptions in my head than it was to have all the details, and he gave me that. He told me he saw himself in me and therefore saw things in himself that he didn’t want to teach me. He said I made him realize that dying didn’t give him an excuse to be reckless. And that even if he only had a few more years, he should value his life and try to live fully for as long as he could. And it was probably the most important lesson anyone had ever given me. That the content and quality of our lives mattered. And that I could choose to live and do good, even if my life felt so bad that I could feel like it wasn’t worth living.

“Were you reckless as a kid?” Lance asked, reminding himself of the fact that when he first met him, reckless was the last thing Lance would have called Keith. But he sees it now. Sees that fire that drives his decisions, and assumes that this story implied he’d never really been anything but reckless for most of his life.

“I didn’t care if I died.” Keith replied with a small shrug. “I did crazy shit and got in trouble and hurt myself all the damn time, and he told me that night not only that he cared if I lived or died, but he showed me because it was the same way I felt about him. It was this silent way of saying “what you feel imagining me being hurt is how I feel about you getting hurt” and it gave me a self worth I'd never had before and it changed… everything. It was the first night since my dad died that I cried in front of someone. And that was only one of the ways he changed my life.”

Lance was a little too stunned for speech, connecting the dots in his head as he realized just how much of Keith’s character Shiro was responsible for.

“He was always a reason why, even after every single bad thing I ever went through, I kept going.
And it was also that night that we actually realized that we had the same blood type and it was amazing because after that day he didn’t have to wait in line for blood donors he could just get surgeries and get better faster when he needed it and it was because I could help him, and it allowed me to value myself even more. And we joked then that we actually did become brothers by blood.”

“Humans have different kinds of blood?“ Lance asked.

“Yeah, and ours is really hard to come by so it made him a high-risk patient for certain kinds of surgeries because there was not an option for transfusions that could save his life.”

A moment of silence passes between them, Lance stewing in thought and in Keith’s warmth. He felt a protectiveness for Shiro come over him that hadn’t been there before and he suddenly understood all their interactions of the past few quintants. He finally understood why he was so important. And he wanted to protect him too. After all he’d been through.

“So he’s no longer sick?” Lance asked then, breaking the silence.

“No. The experimentation got rid of that. The galra didn’t want their best fighter dying outside of the ring. Not with how popular the shows were becoming because of us.

Lance sighed. Tucking his nose into Keith’s collarbone and hugging his arm into his chest. “You’re amazing, Keith, you know that?” He tells him, the name still new on his tongue.

It brings the small smile he’d been wearing back to his lips and he kisses the top of his head, rubbing small circles on his back.

Lance feels his eyes flutter shut and he’s not sure if it’s the pull of sleep or a reaction from how good the touch felt, but even still, his mind goes hazy and the warmth Keith emanates seems to fill him up to the brim, making him melt.

“That’s enough story for today.” He heard Keith whisper to him. “You gotta get some sleep now, my prince.”

Lance shivers, knowing that Keith using his title in this setting was a term of endearment now rather than him putting his walls up again.

He smiles back at him, and closes his eyes, letting the sound of Keith’s breathing lull him to sleep.

______

Extracting himself from Lance’s grasp was a feat of ingenuity. And while not moving or waking him while untangling himself from the prince's long limbs was an accomplishment, it still stung. He wanted nothing more than to stay there with him, cocooned in the warmth of his sheets, but he couldn’t. Not today.

He toed his way over to the armor Lance hand taken off and put on the couch and clasped it back over his undersuit, checking his appearance in Lance’s vanity before heading to step out of his room.

He still wasn’t used to seeing his human reflection in the mirror. For the longest time it seemed like one of the biggest impossibilities in his life, taking on this form again. But Lance seemed to have a way of bringing it out of him.

It made him extremely nervous… that perhaps he was losing control over himself. That he’d shift by mistake just because Lance smiled at him or something, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it, shifting back into his galra form with an exhale and heading for the door after giving Lance one final kiss to his forehead before he went.

He opens the heavy bedroom door with knots in his stomach that he actively tries to stomp out before he sees someone in the corner of his eye.

Kethek jumps, turning to see Pidge standing there waiting for him.

The guards posted along the hall apparently didn’t pay them any mind as they seem to have been standing here waiting for a while. They’re the green Paladin and not galra which means they basically hold them under no scrutiny. They look at him with too much knowing in their eyes and cross their arms. It’s a silent way of saying “we need to talk.” At the very least they’re still trying to be somewhat discreet.

“Kethek” they say. “I was hoping to talk to you. Coran told me I should discuss issues of safety with you, and I heard you had business with the prince this evening, so I thought I’d catch you when you were finished.”

It’s not why they’re here. Not really. Kethek knows that. And technically he could refuse, and probably get away with it, but this was something he knows needs to be done.

“I was on my way to speak to Shiro. He had some similar questions for me.” He decided to tell them. “You are welcome to join me.”

Pidge pauses, seeming to calculate something in their head before they pull out a device that looks like some kind of personal tablet.

“Let me check how long I have.” They tell him. And Kethek, for some reason, gets the idea that that’s not what they're using the device to do at all, but he can’t make sense of why and keeps his mouth shut.

They tap around for a moment on the device before they nod. “I have a half hour.” They say it pointedly, looking him in the eye, as though the time frame is significant somehow. But Kethek brushes it off.

“Therefore it is probably best if we keep this meeting to ourselves for now, I don't wish to burden your and Shiro’s conversation with my timetable.”

Behind their preformative words, Kethek hears what they really say. “I’m going to talk to you alone without Shiro there to cushion the blow.

He withholds his sigh, knowing it was time to have this conversation with them and nods.

“Where would you like to meet.” He asks.

I’ve prepared a delegation room for us, if you’ll accompany me there.

Kethek nods again and begins following Pidge down the hall.

He’d never spoken much with them before Kerberos, only having seen them at events and at the launch, saying goodbye to Matt and their father. They’d always seemed closed off, in a sense. Kethek still remembers the pain in their eyes when they’d watched them board their ship. He remembers it as the only thing to dampen Matt’s excitement as they prepared for launch.

All he really knows about them is that. That and if they’re anything like their father and brother, they were more formidable than he could even begin to comprehend.

The night in the green lion, Kethek had seen so much of Matt in them. It had been nice… after Matt had lost so much of himself in the prisons, drugged up and barely lucid right up until they got separated.

He hopes Pidge doesn’t ask him about any of it. Mostly because he’s not sure he could look them in the eye and tell them he could do nothing to prevent it. That if he’d tried, they’d probably all be dead. That is, if Matt wasn’t dead already.

The thoughts make his gut churn even more and when they approach the doors to the room Pidge had arranged for them, he has half a mind to fake being called away to some responsibility. But he doesn’t. He can’t. Because Pidge doesn’t deserve it. As intimidating as they are, they’re still, amazingly, just a kid. A kid who is probably much more terrified than they let on.

The door clicks shut behind them and immediately Pidge is on their tablet, tapping furiously.

Kethek waits in silence, understanding that the reason they were here was not for discussions of security, and waited for further instruction.

The tablet made a nerving noise and finally, Pidge sighed and turned to him.

“Nobody is listening to us anymore.” They tell him. “I programmed a glitch into the camera system. We can speak freely for a half hour and no more.”

“How did-“ Kethek begins before Pidge shoves their tablet forward for him to see.

“On the screen was a video of them talking. Having a conversation that they’d never had before. It sounded just like him.”

“It’s a program I developed. It takes sound bites and can construct a replication of someone’s voice for any sentence I type out.” Pidge explains. “I used it a lot to divert the galra away from the green lion's location. I’d managed to collect audio from a pretty high ranking officer and used his voice over and over again.”

“That’s… that’s incredible Pidge. This could help us-“

“No.” Pidge cut him off. “Don’t start. I don’t feel comfortable doing it all the time and I don’t want to betray the Altean’s trust. It’s too much of a risk to do it often. If I’m caught I’m as good as banished and your little secret could be outed as a result. The only time you’ll benefit from this is when you talk to Shiro. He doesn’t deserve to be lied to and neither do I. You can’t hide behind this disguise Keith. Not with us. So right now, I want to know the truth. And then when we’re done, you tell him the truth.”

“I’m not hiding from you, Pidge. If I could have I would have told the truth as soon as I knew who you were but-“

“But you didn’t.” They cut him off. “So I was left scrambling. And I don’t like to scramble. I want to trust you Keith. The last thing that I’d ever want to believe is that you had anything to do with the fact that after months of searching I can’t find a single whisper of my brother or fathers name but I stumble upon you without even trying.”

It’s those words that make them break, tears that they appear to furiously try to keep back fill their eyes and Kethek’s heart hurts.

“I just want to know what happened. I want to know what you know and I want that truth and I don’t care if it hurts, I just want to know. I want to know if I came out here for nothing. If I’m chasing after ghosts.”

The tears are too thick to keep back now and Kethek hates it. It makes him sick with a guilt that never quite leaves his gut. But it’s worse now. Threatening to overtake him.

Nerves thrum viciously as he decides what he has to do, and it takes everything in him to keep his voice from breaking as he asks Pidge, “are you sure this room is secure?”

Pidge nods, and Kethek knows better than to doubt them but it’s still breaking one of his cardinal rules. Again. And it’s terrifying no matter how necessary it is.

It’s also difficult, considering how uncomfortable he is, but he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. He closes his eyes and wills his heart to slow its pace. And naturally, he thinks of Lance. He puts himself right back at his side, under his sheets, and assures himself that no matter what, Lance would defend him and no matter what, he’d keep him safe.

With a final exhale, he feels the tingle on his skin as his skin changes hue for the second time that day and he opens his eyes to meet Pidge’s, whose face is now red from crying and, in an expression rare for them, wholly perplexed and conflicted.

“How-“ they begin, shaking their head. “How are- did they do this to you??”

“No. Keith tells them. “I’ve always been galra. My mother was galran. Somehow she ended up on Earth and… that's the most that I know.”

“You’ve always been galra?!”

Keith nods.

“Shiro’s death was the first time I changed.”

Pidge swallows but Keith can see the belief in her eyes, even though their trust is still thin.

“And my brother and father?”

“We were separated from your father as soon as we got to the prisons. He was too old to fight in the gladiator ring, so they took him to a weapons facility. At least that’s what I heard. But it’s been years since then. I have no way of knowing now.”

“So you let him be taken away!” Pidge bites angrily, their tears now wetting their cheeks.

“I fought until they tranquilized me before I let him out of my sight.” Keith corrects. “We all did. But it was twenty against three. There was nothing we could do.”

Pidge looks even more broken by that somehow, their lip now wobbling as they search his eyes desperately. As if they want him to be lying.”

“A-nd Matt?” They whimper then, their voice having lost all its fight.

“Keith swallows, his throat thick and his heart pounding.

“Shiro attacked him in the ring to save his life. He was useless to them if he couldn’t fight. And Shiro knew that he was the strongest out of all of us. He tried to do the same to me but I fought him off and that’s the only reason I stayed in that prison. Matt was not a fighter. He would have been killed the moment he was left to go into the ring alone.”

Keith leaves out the torture and drugging and abuse they’d all suffered prior to the ring in the hopes that it would make the fight more interesting. But all it had done to Matt was make him weaker and it was a detail Keith was adamant that was not necessary.

“I didn’t think they’d move him to a new ship all together…. But he was gone before they’d taken us back to the cells that night.”

“But believe me, Pidge. As soon as I made it out of the prison. As soon as I became a double agent, I didn’t spend a single day without trying to find them. I hacked into every system, probed every officer. Searched the barracks of every single ship I was stationed on every day since my escape. I tried everything I possibly could. I got in trouble ugh the blade for breaking protocol to get information. I didn’t stop looking for them once… a-nd I haven’t stopped. Even though I’m here. Even though I’m not on galra ships, I’ve never stopped looking and I never-“

In an instant, so suddenly it startles him, Pidge is lunging forwards and crashing into him, their arms wrapping around him so tightly and their nose pressed into his chest. They’re sobbing. Hiccuping and gasping and squeezing him so hard it’s hard to breathe.

The tears Keith had barely been holding back now rim his eyes almost by force and he can’t breathe in without his breaths hitching in his chest. Not when Pidge is crying into him and holding on to him for dear life.

“Thank you Keith…” he eventually hears them whimper. “ I'm so sorry- I’m- I’ve just been so scared and felt so defeated… But I always wanted to trust you and I’m so sorry-I am so sorry.”

They pull away then, sheepishly keeping their gaze on the floor before they have the courage to look at him.

“Thank you for everything you did.” They say sincerely, shaking and sniffling. “ I don’t blame you. You’ve Gotta know that I don’t blame you. I-I just didn’t know what to think.”

He takes them in his arms again then and holds them back to his chest, not taking anything personally. Knowing where their fear came from. He knows because he’s been through it himself.

“I know. And I’m sorry for ever making you doubtful.” He whispers. “I was honestly afraid to tell you, because I didn’t want you to know what he went through… But I needed to… And you needed to hear it and I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. But we’re going to get them back ok? I swear it, whatever happened, we’re going to find them. I promise.

“You can’t make that promise.” Pidge mutters, wiping at their eyes and hiccuping on their words. “You we’re on galra ships for years and you didn’t find anything more than me. They probably just killed them as soon as they left the prison.

Keith shakes his head and gets down to his knees so that he could look Pidge in the eyes.

“The Matt and Commander Holt I know wouldn’t go out that easily. They’re way too smart for that. And if they couldn’t use their smarts to escape the galra certainly figured out what they were capable of. And the galra aren’t the type to waste a good resource. They’re out there somewhere Pidge. I know it. And I feel like the only reason I never found them is because Whatever defenses they’ve set up for themselves are too clever for a lousy, dumb co-pilot like myself to figure out.”

Pidge sniffled but let out a miserable chuckle. And even though it was devoid of any joy, Keith counts it as a win.

“We’ve got each other now, though, and you’re so clever it’s scary. With my resources and your mind, we’ll find them. So don’t you dare give up on them. Because they would never give up on you and you know it.”

Pidge nods weakly, but their tears had stopped falling now, only wetting their puffy eyes. Keith knows their words got through and he’s thankful he was able to give them. Especially as his human self. It felt right to make this promise in the same form that had watched both of his team members be taken away. It felt right.

Pidge began taking deep breaths, clearly trying to compose themself, and Keith realized it was likely because the time limit on Pidge’s hack was running out. They coaxed the redness from their eyes and cheeks and did their best to dry their eyes completely.

“I’ll set up the overwrite for the cameras in Shiro’s room to be ready before you get there. Pidge tells him then, steadying their voice and looking embarrassed, as though their prior outburst, now that they are ere out of the thick of it, was beneath them. You should go now so that you have more time. I’ll leave a few minutes after. Keith nods, standing back up and taking a deep breath to slowly shift back into his galran form.

“Thank you Pidge.” Kethek tells them sincerely.

Pidge just nods, giving one final wipe at their eyes before they look relatively like normal again. They begin tapping away on their tablet and Kethek takes it as his cue to leave, moving to unlock the door and push it open.

The conversation with Pidge, as unexpected as it had been, made speaking to Shiro feel less daunting than it had before. Especially now that he could be assured that they wouldn’t have eyes or ears on them.

He gathers what he will say to him in his head when he sees him. Wonders if maybe he should shift again. If it would be more comfortable for Shiro that way. He’d seemed ok in the medical ward, but it could have just been because Lance was there. His presence tended to make people try and act their best, it seemed.

Shiro had been given temporary quarters in a wing of the castle where many of the staf, including Hunk, resided. It was an area of the castle he didn’t frequent, but it didn’t look much different other than slightly more narrow hallways and less frequent security patrols. Here, the staff who were not working walked freely, unlike the areas where the bridge and Lance’s room were. The people who walked down those halls usually bore some kind of importance if they walked freely. And in those hallways, the people he passed had been kept up to date on his presence in the castle and, if you could really call it getting used to, they had grown more accustomed to his presence.

Here, he caught the eye of one too many quickly re-directed stares to ignore. They didn’t bother him. They didn’t look much like they were bothered by his presence at all. At least not in comparison to his first weeks in the castle. They just avoided his gaze or stole glances. Maybe picked up their pace as they passed. But Kethek much preferred that to scorn.

He wondered if Shiro would be upset by it… if he ever got the chance to walk with him through the halls and he fell witness to how much of a sore thumb he was in the castle. To be fair, Shiro too had tried to kill him when they first saw each other so he, maybe more so than most, might understand both sides.

And, in a flurry of emotions that hit him like a brick at the thought, he’s overwhelmed yet again at the fact that he’s even contemplating any of this at all. The fact that he is about to go talk to Shiro again. That he’s alive and well and safe. Free of captivity.

The thought of what he endured the last few years almost makes him sick to even think about for a moment, so instead he focuses on the fact that he’s here at all. That he survived. In spite of everything.

The thoughts distract him from the stares enough that the walk through the halls down to Shiro’s quarters passes easily, and before he knows it, he has a fist poised above the steel door.

He takes in one last breath and swallows, knocking twice before the door slides open.

Shiro is on the floor, sitting atop something akin to a yoga mat in a white shirt and black shorts. Clothes that Lance no doubt had requested be sent to his room.

He stands up quickly upon seeing that it’s Kethek, eyes going wide as his adam’s apple bobs nervously.

But he doesn’t miss a beat. He knows the drill already somehow, in spite of having only the smallest bit of an understanding as to what the situation is.

“Kethek” he says, the sound of his voice making Kethek ache with relief and familiarity. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t- I forgot you were coming by.”

“Kethek furrows his brow at the comment, knowing well that he’d not informed Shiro he was coming. Perhaps it was another attempt on his part to act like he was with the program. Kethek appreciated his effort.

“It’s ok, Shiro.” Kethek tells him gently as he enters the room, the door closing automatically behind him. “Pidge set everything up. We can talk freely.” A cautious look passed over Shiro’s face that very much looked like an expression one gives when they don’t trust a situation enough, and he swallows again, choosing his words carefully.”

“How do you mean…” he asks.

“No one can hear or see us. This is still technically a public dormitory so the room is likely being monitored in some capacity.”

“Oh…” Shiro muttered. “Yes, the prince warned me of that. He’d said this room was only temporary.”

Kethek nods. “I think they just wish to screen you a bit more before they move you.” He tells him.

But Shiro’s face twists again. It’s an expression he doesn't remember Shiro making much. It’s nauseous and full of caution. Shiro was acting weird.

“Shiro are you-“ Kethek begins to ask, but Shiro shakes his head suddenly, cutting him off.

“Kethek.” Shiro whispers, looking painfully uneasy and being extra careful around the syllables of his galran name. “I can’t stay here. I… I don’t know what’s happening to me.

Ketheks gut drops with concern, brow furrowing as as nervous pit forms in his stomach.

“What do you mean?” He asked him, caution clear in his voice.

“I’m… not entirely sure, but I just- I have these headaches… and, and I get flashes… visions… like I’m not actually here, but I’m back on the galran ship. And they’re so bad that I forget… sometimes, and I’m just… gone…. And- and I don’t remember anything, Kethek. I don’t remember anything since The last time I saw you. And… and the prince tells me it’s been years since then. My mind… is just… blank.”

The furrow in Keith’s brow deepens at Shiro’s words. The pain… and confusion is so clear on his face it’s painful. It’s unsettling.

“I don’t feel like myself Keithek…” Shiro tells him, and Keithek understands it for what it is… a warning.

“I feel like I’m fighting and I’m not even sure what I’m fighting…. But I feel like there’s something happening to me and I can’t figure it out and I can’t stay here until I do.”

“Shiro, the Altean’s can help you figure it out. You… probably went through a lot of trauma. You might just be in shock- or… or you could have had an injury internally that the pod healed, but as a result gave you memory loss. There’s gotta be an explanation, and the doctors here are probably your best chance at figuring it out.”

Shiro shakes his head again, the inside of his cheek caught between his teeth.

“It’s… this is a gut feeling, Kethek.” He tells him. I need to get back to Earth. I just… I can’t stay here.

And as much as he wishes to hell and back that he could suppress the sting of tears he knows is coming, he can’t. He knows he can’t.

“Shiro… you just- you just got here! We found each other again! After all this time- I thought- I don’t- I can’t let you go. Not after you just found safety. For the first time in years!”

Shiro’s eyes look pained. Kethek can see the conflict in them and he wants to believe it’s because Shiro doesn't truly want to leave at all.

Shiro swallows a third time and Kethek sees the tears in his eyes then.

“I can’t be feeling so unstable. Not so close to the prince… and the Queen. Not after spending years in galran captivity with no memory of what they did to me. Isn’t it convenient?? That I ended up here?! When I’d fully intended on trying to find Earth in the first place?! It just feels wrong… and I refuse to put anyone at risk if I can help it. I can come back… if wyerythibv works out ok but right now I’m not sure what’s going on and I can’t ignore how… wrong this all feels.”

The pit in Kethek’s stomach grows into a full on sinkhole and his chest aches so much it feels like it could break, but looking at Shiro… at the desperation in his eyes… he can feel how serious he is… How terrified he is. And how was it his right to tell him no? Especially if, objectively, he wouldn’t hesitate to send any other person home who said the same thing he was saying now. As head of security it was his job, and if Shiro thought himself a threat… What was he supposed to do?

The answer is clear, but he hates himself for knowing he’s about to agree with it. It’s possibly the last thing he wants to do.

Swallowing the knot in his throat he resigns himself to nod, looking at the floor and away from Shiro’s expression.

“I’ll talk to the prince.” He tells him, hating the way his voice breaks on the last word. “ If it's what you feel you need to do, I won’t stop you.”

Shiro lets out a shaky deep breath and nods back to him.

“Thank you, Kethek.” He says softly, the true sincerity in his voice making him ache all the more.

This was not the conversation he’d wanted. Not the conversation he expected. Shiro was damaged. Clearly. And it hurt so, so much to see.

Horribly unable to think of anything else he can say, he makes for the door.

“I’ll come by tomorrow with more information.” He says. And unable to look back, he leaves, stomping down the emotions he’d just barely kept from boiling over.

This was not right. None of this was right.

He goes back to his own quarters and lets it out inside the walls immediately pacing back and forth with nervous energy and confused tears.

Today had been too much. Way too fucking much.

In the chaos of his turbulence he only barely manages to get himself to bed and sleep, waking up at least every hour with his head still too full of thoughts. He’s restless right up until it’s time to retrieve Lance from his room. He worries Lance will see right through him. Will somehow notice his lack of sleep and anxious energy. He doesn’t want his feelings in the matter to burden him. In fact he wants exactly the opposite. An objective perspective. One that could counter his franticness and calm him down.

He does his best to collect himself and disguises his anxiety under his usual scowl.

Lance’s basically glowing, sunny presence when he walks through his door helps soothe him a little, and in the countless counsel and war meetings, he’s able to further calm himself by burying himself into his work. Keeping his mind on only the entries and exits and rafters.

And If Lance notices him acting up, he doesn’t comment. At least not until his first break of the day. This time, unlike usual where he eats on the go, Lance takes his lunch to a private lounge room. As soon as he sits he levels Kethek with a stare.

He doesn’t drop his professional demeanor, but he does inquire, stirring a cup of what Kethek thinks is a kind of altean tea.

“Is there anything to report, Kethek?” He asks.

Kethek nods. “Yes actually. If you have time to speak of it now.”

“I do.” Lance tells him. Setting down his ‘tea.’ “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, there is nothing worrisome, your highness. But I spoke with the prisoner who crash landed- Shiro- last night and he expressed an urgency to return to his home planet as soon as he could.

Lance visibly drops his collected expression and his brow furrows confusedly, eyes going slightly wider.

“So soon?” He asks. “He is aware that it is of no trouble that he stays here, yes?”

“Yes.” Kethek nods. “He didn’t give me a reason, but he’d asked me if I could speak to you about procuring transport for him as soon as is reasonable. My…” he began. The next words bringing up more emotion than he was allowing himself. He swallows and clears his throat, doing his best to refocus himself.

My suggestion is to procure a direct wormhole to Earth, Enough of a distance away that he can take a pod there and be there in less than a varga.

Lance nods, the confusion still imprinted on his face.

“I suppose I could arrange for that.” He tells him. “I’ll have to speak with the Queen but you may tell him that within the next quintant, he should be able to get home as he requests.”

“I will tell him to be ready tonight after your duties conclude, then.” Kethek confirms.

“Very well.” Lance replies. His eyes seem to search his, as if looking for some kind of subliminal messaging that Kethek could be sending his way, so he just shakes his head minutely, hoping it’s enough to tide him over until they can speak in private.

They aren’t able to until a few hours later, when Lance makes the excuse to go to his room to retrieve a file he’d left on his desk. The conversation. Is brief, as it has to be for such a simple task, but Lance immediately questions the situation.

Kethek tells him everything he can in the short time he has and watches as Lance’s face twists in concern. He too is eventually resigned to accept it, but only because Kethek insisted that they should let him. He was clearly resigned to the idea too, especially if Shiro claimed to be unwell, but he doesn’t question Kethek’s judgement. Not with the understanding of just how much Shiro meant to him.

So Lance goes out of his way to support it. He assigns a team to monitor his travels. Recruits people to be on standby to help him if need be. Does everything he can to make it safe and smooth and Kethek isn’t sure he’s ever appreciated him more.

Shiro didn’t come with any personal belongings, but Lance had made damn sure he left with some, giving him extra clothing and meal packets and a small balmera stone as a token of good will before preparing to walk him to the hanger, Kethek at his side.

Allura comes as well, having herself expressed concern for the safety of an escaped galra prisoner.

Pidge comes too, sticking to the excuse that they’d known each other back on Earth and that they’d wanted to say goodbye.

Kethek was beyond uneasy. Confused at Shiro’s claims that he wasn’t himself when the only thing that seemed to be different about him was his paranoia. Terrified for his safety. Heartbroken that after everything, they had to separate again. He’d be back in minutes, safe and sound through the wormhole, but it didn’t take away his fears. Didn’t make him any less devastated.

But Shiro committed himself to going andKethek had been able to do nothing to stop him. Honestly not sure if he even should.

He looks as uneasy as ever as they all walk with him to the hanger, but they don’t even reach the entry before something stops them all on their tracks.

A roar. A loud, ground shaking roar. A sound that made Allura freeze, fear passing over her eyes before it was replaced with confusion. And it’s then that Lance realizes why.

She recognized it. It was distinct. A sound that brought her back to the very start of the war, when she was just a little girl, and Zarkon, corrupted and power hungry, had taken the black lion to start attacking alteans.

Then, images flooded his mind. Messages from blue. He saw Pidge stumble too, likely getting messages of her own from green.

It was the black lions roar. It had awoken. For Shiro. Shiro. The blue lion flooded his mind with his name. Shiro.

“That was the black lion!!” Allura called, looking over her shoulder frantically to the hall that led to the lion hangars.

“Why is it-“ she began, and then she paused. She turned back around, eyes looking then to both Pidge and Lance.

Who is it calling? She asked.

Lance swallowed,glancing at Kethek in shock.

“Shiro…” Pidge says then, answering her before Lance can.

“It’s calling for Shiro. “

Allura’s shoulders drop in shock, eyes falling on the taller man who looked terrified.

“No…” he mutters, taking a step back. “No, this is a mistake. I can’t stay here, Queen Allura, I can’t-“

“It called for you…” Allura says then, seemingly in her own world, not paying attention to what Shiro was trying to say.

Tears come to her eyes and her hands move to cover her mouth.

“Ancestors…” she whimpers, relief clear in her voice.

“It chose another Paladin!!! It rejected Zarkon! It didn’t choose a galran paladin or choose to go back to Zarkon!! It chose you!!! You! You can prevent it from ever going under galra control ever again!!”

Shiro’s face is pure dread.

“Queen Allura-“ he tries again, but Allura cuts him off a second time.

“Shiro!” She whimpers… “You’ve just ensured that we truly can win this war!!! “

Finally having gained his bearings, Lance speaks up, conflicted. “Allura, Shiro feels he needs to leave.” He tells her.

“Queen Allura, I can’t stay here. Shiro confirms. I… I have to go home…”

The look of horror that takes over Allura’s face makes Kethek’s stomach drop. “You can’t go!” She says desperately, almost as though the idea offended her.

“Shiro, you risk the destruction of the universe if you go. Your separation from the lion means Zarkon will have the power to take it back under his control. You can’t leave! Countless people will die… the universe itself could fall into his control! Even your Earth!”

“Allura, we have no assurance that that will happen.” Lance counters, his voice firm.”

“It’s always been possible, Lance.” Allura says back. “There is a reason father locked away the black lion. We have no idea the extent with which Zarkon and the black lion were bonded. He, at any moment, could manage to take it back… I had half a mind to lock it up again. As soon as it opened, but with another Paladin?! He could actively defend the lion from Zarkon. He ensures its safety! If it’s truly Shiro that you felt it call for, we simply can not look past that!”

“It is not our right to challenge his free will, Allura. A Paladin has to want to be a Paladin.”

“This is bigger than any of us. The rules of free will are different when the entire universe is at stake. Being a Paladin is a duty.”

The two siblings continue their bickering and Kethek looks over to Shiro, hating the look of guilt on his face.

He catches his keys just for a moment before closing his eyes, squeezing them shut and furrowing his brow as though to physically block out the chaos around him. Kethek also realizes then that Shiro might be hearing the lion right now too. Feeling that same tug Kethek had felt for the first time all those many quintants ago.

He shakes his head and grips his fists at his side, but he’s come to a decision. Kethek can see it.

“I’ll stay.” Shiro says, cutting into the siblings arguing and sounding very much like he was already wary of his decision.

Allura’s eyes light up in relief, gratitude washing over her in a wave.

“You will?” She asks, her voice full of so much hope.

“Yes.” Shiro tells her. “It seems… I… don’t have a choice.”

Allura seems to deflate, letting out a heavy, relieved sigh as she nods, still maintaining the poise of a Queen even as she bows to Shiro in a display of immense gratitude.

“Your decision will not go unthanked.” She assures him. “I promise I will do all that is in my power to help you in any way you need.”

But Shiro’s expression just looks even more devastated. Even more afraid. And god it makes Kethek’s stomach churn. Because this… all of this is wrong. He can’t explain it either but he can feel it in his chest. In his gut. Brewing disaster…

Disaster he’s not sure he’ll have any power to prevent.

Not this time.

Chapter Text

It was many days before Kethek got the call.

It happened during a meeting with a dignitary that contributed to funding the manufacturing of Altea’s warships.

Lance had never been terribly fond of him, as he was very demanding in nature and contrasted his preferred way of life with a no-nonsense attitude that could be quite exhausting. But he represented an independently wealthy family on a planet that served as an oligarch to the people who lived there. They were more than eager to assist in Altea’s war effort, as their planet was small and had no formal military. The Galra had been on their asses since the war broke out for the ore deposits they had an extremely plentiful supply of, and it was all they could do not to be conquered and enslaved as laborers.

They gave Altea the ore and construction labor for the ships, and Altea offered them protection from invasion through military services and defense technology. This, however, didn’t mean that business was easy between them. They frequently demanded in-person meetings updating them about the war effort, meetings that Lance had to personally oversee.

But they were financing a huge part of the war effort, and they weren’t Lotor. Their negotiations didn’t feel slimy like they did with him. They just seemed anxious, which Lance couldn’t really blame them for.

But the meetings were usually all the same and, as such, pretty terribly dull. Lance wasn’t even able to contribute to them as much as he used to now that he was grounded and unable to go out and participate in the war himself. So the talking largely happened between the dignitary and a top general. Lance was there to assert that Altea took their business dealings seriously and to report on any financial obstacles if they happened to arise.

This meeting, though, was one of those where he wasn’t really serving much of a purpose. So maybe that was why Kethek approached him in the middle of it, likely sensing that he wasn’t a necessary player in the conversation.

He leaned down to Lance’s ear and whispered, his warm breath and close proximity making his heart flutter.

God it had been so long since he was able to touch him. They’ve had no time to spend together, and it was really agonizing to be so close all the time and yet not be able to touch or hug or do anything that Lance felt couples would and should do.

He wasn’t sure when he started thinking of them as a full-fledged couple, either. Probably, it had just naturally set into his brain after their first night together, but sometimes even he had to remind himself of it, as Kethek did an exceptional job at pretending Lance meant nothing to him when in the eyes of the public—which was most of the time.

The tingles of excitement Lance got from getting Kethek close like this distracted him so much that he didn’t even compute what Kethek had said to him until many moments after.

“I just received word. It’s safe for us to talk to the prisoners.”

Lance’s heart skipped then for an entirely different reason.

The prisoners didn’t know Kethek. The background check they had ordered on them proved to Kethek that their paths had never crossed in the line of duty during his time in the Galran army.

They could speak to them openly without risking his safety.

Lance’s energy spiked, and he tried to compose himself after most definitely opening his eyes too wide not to be noticeable.

And it had been noticed, apparently, as the dignitary was now looking at him.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” he asked.

Lance cleared his throat.

“Yes, nothing of alarm,” he assured, “but it is a matter I must see to. I trust that this discussion can proceed without me?”

“Yes, my prince,” the general said, standing up when Lance did.

He saluted and bowed to him.

“I’ll arrange for you to be briefed on any important matters if they arise after you depart.”

“Thank you, general,” Lance said, giving a smile. “Please, continue.”

And with that, Lance quickly took his leave, Kethek following right behind him.

Nerves bubbled in his chest as he walked. He felt a little bad. There was nothing urgent about the matter other than his eagerness to speak to the prisoners. He didn’t have to leave, but Kethek had gotten him an out, so he took it.

Kethek, on the other hand, looked very apprehensive and uncomfortable, the conversation from the night Lance had posed the idea of talking to them coming back to him clearly.

He didn’t want to do this. He’d told Lance as much—that it would go badly. Nonetheless, he was allowing it to happen for Lance. And Lance knew he probably would have never done it before had he not cared for him as much as he did.

“Remember, your highness, they likely won’t speak Altean,” Kethek spoke up then, continuing to look straight ahead.

“That’s why I have you,” Lance pointed out, playing along with the idea that he wasn’t tagging along just for his safety and comfort. “You can translate what I say to them, and tell me what they say in response.”

“What I mean to say, my prince, is that a dialogue might not be possible at all. Even with translation.”

“I know your hesitations, Kethek. But I trust myself in both defense and negotiation skills. And I trust you.” Lance internally smiled at the deeper truth of that statement. “Besides, they won’t be able to get out of their restraints. It will be perfectly safe.”

Kethek still looked unconvinced and on edge, but he didn’t say anything else. He just kept walking, a bit closer to Lance than he usually let himself be.

Lance realized it with a smile, and wanted so badly to kiss his cheek or squeeze his hand or do something affectionate at all—comfort him just a little—but he’d have to save it for later.

As always.

They turned to walk down the steps that would lead them to the lower floors of the castle and Lance’s nerves spiked once again.

He wasn’t even all that nervous, and truthfully he didn’t know what he would get out of this meeting or why he cared so much about it.

He just felt like he needed to—to speak to a Galra, really speak to a Galra other than Kethek and the Blades. When for so long it had been fighting before speaking and there never really being opportunities to do anything different, this was an opportunity. And he had to try and take it.

Deep down, Lance knew it was also about Kethek. That maybe somehow if he got through to them, it would prove something. Justify his trust and affection for Kethek. Make him feel hopeful about the circumstances of this war for once instead of beaten down and disappointed.

He didn’t dwell too much on these thoughts, though, because then his hopefulness would dip a bit too far into delusion and fantasy, and he didn’t want to expect anything positive knowing that it likely wouldn’t be so. At least not at first. He needed to prioritize being realistic, for both of their sakes. Convincing himself that one conversation could change everything would only end in disappointment.

But Lance’s heart still pounded as they approached the doors to the interrogation room. They’d made the arrangement to have both of the prisoners brought up from their cell so that Lance wouldn’t personally have to go to the dungeons, which the guard had told him offered too many dangerous variables that they didn’t want to risk. Lance had agreed, even though it was mostly because he felt a conversation would be better accomplished without having the transparent cell barrier between them.

They had also separated the two Galra into two separate rooms. Lance had thought that might be good too, just in case the first conversation didn’t go well, he’d have a second chance.

The entire quiznacking guard may as well have been posted in front of the doors with how many Alteans were stationed by the doors and along the nearby halls. Lance nodded to the guard in the front as he stepped forward, and the guard bowed in return.

“My prince,” he began, “the prisoners are restrained in the rooms and are ready to receive you.”

“Were they any trouble on the way up?” Lance asked, genuinely curious and hoping to glean a bit of their emotional states before speaking with them.

“Nothing beyond our capabilities to handle. They were, for the most part, complacent.”

Lance nodded. “Okay, then I will meet them now. Please wait out here, I will alert you if I need you.”

The guard gaped slightly then, seeming like he had stopped himself from saying something that wanted to burst out of him.

“Is something wrong?” Lance asked.

“Your highness,” the guard began, a sharp concern growing in his eyes, “we have three Altean guards tasked to enter with you and your personal bodyguard.”

“Oh.” Lance sighed, biting the inside of his lip. “I’d hoped to enter by myself. I didn’t want more than one guard present in the room because I don’t want the prisoners to feel intimidated or threatened and then refuse to speak to me. It seemed best to have only Kethek accompany me. His presence as a fellow Galra may be disarming, and he will also be able to translate and provide the necessary protection.”

The guard looked disapproving of the idea, and it was technically within his right to advise against his wishes if he saw fit, but where Lance expected a rebuttal, the guard simply sighed, fists clenched at his sides.

“You may be right,” he admitted. “It may put you in more danger if the prisoners feel threatened, and I have no lack of faith in your diplomatic prowess. However,” the guard added, “we will have guards watching the security footage the entire time, and we will intervene if they deem it necessary at any point.”

“I would appreciate it.” Lance nodded.

The guard nodded back, looking then to the guards standing at the ready, and he nodded again. Finally, he stepped aside, bowing once more.

“You may proceed,” he said. “We will be just outside.”

Lance took a breath, feeling a bit like he’d throw up despite his eagerness, and pushed onward, opening the door to the interrogation room as normally and casually as he possibly could manage.

The Galra was chained to the table, the teal glow of the handcuffs signaling that they were activated and locked tight. As a result of some of his childhood antics, Lance had gotten stuck in a similar pair and still remembered running, terrified, to his mother for her to help him unlock them after trying desperately to free himself from them. It was impossible, and Lance uncomfortably came to the realization that he had never been fond of being trapped. Restrained. Controlled. The feeling he’d had felt then was eerily similar to how he felt now as a captive in his own castle, and it twisted his stomach. As such, seeing the prisoner chained in them wasn’t as much of a comfort as it probably should have been.

The Galra’s eyes were glazed with boredom and anger, but when they caught sight of Lance as he entered, his demeanor shifted in a single tick.

Kethek was as tense as stone beside him, eyes menacing as the Galra sat up a little straighter in alert, looking at Lance with an uncomfortable, vicious sort of awe.

And god, he was so, so tall. He was just- big. Visibly. Even when sitting down. He almost dwarfed the table in front of him.

Lance didn’t know why it surprised him every single time, but he guessed it was just because he’d gotten so used to Kethek. But even then, the Blades were nearly equal in size, so honestly he didn’t know. It was just a shock, without fail, every time.

This was the first time, though, that Lance considered the odd height of his guard in context to other Galra and knew the reason why.

It was almost fascinating, that the bit of background information he had made Kethek’s human heritage so blatant that one literally couldn’t miss it. It was fascinating that something about him could be simultaneously so well hidden and yet so obvious, depending on what side of his wall someone stood on.

In stature, he was human through and through. In appearance, he was unquestionably Galra. And though Lance couldn’t decidedly say that there was uniformity of temperament with each and every Galra that existed and he knew next to nothing about humans other than what he’d seen from the ones associated with Kethek, he thought Kethek perfectly embodied the mix of both his human and Galran heritage in his temperament. The two cultures and lifestyles had imprinted on him equally, and both were so distinct and recognizable that it was crazy to Lance that he was only able to see it after learning his full story.

Still though, Lance couldn’t help but think that Kethek looked fully and completely Galra right now in spite of all that. His gaze was almost deadly, and he did not lack a shred of intimidation in comparison to the prisoner sitting in front of them.

Kethek spoke up then, his voice firm and not giving the prisoner a chance to say anything before he was, what Lance assumed to be, laying out the situation for him and stating the expectations of the exchange, with likely a few threats thrown in for good measure, knowing him.

Kethek’s Galran is not something that Lance has heard much of outside of a few phrases, and hearing it now is yet another fascinating experience. Knowing that Kethek did not know a word of galran before he was 18 is almost unbelievable when hearing his flawless pronunciation and accent. Had Lance not known, he’d have no reason to believe it wasn’t his native tongue.

He knows it’s because there was no other choice for him if he was going to survive, and he knows he probably got brutal training from the Blades to perfect his speech, but it was small moments like these where Lance can’t help but feel awed by him. How much of him comes from struggle. How brilliant and strong he is. Day to day, it’s easy to fall into believing his façade even when knowing the truth.

It’s captivating to see. To watch and hear. And it quickly becomes anxiety inducing as soon as the galran speaks. Lance isn’t sure what he said, but it sounded like an insult.

He looks at Kethek curiously, waiting for a translation.

“I told him that you are here to speak with him and ask some questions.” He tells him.

“And he said?” Lance asked.

Kethek’s jaw clenched.

“He rudely asked if I was serious.”

Lance swallows but nods. Not a great start.

He prepares to introduce himself when the galra speaks up again, snarling.

Lance looks at Kethek once more to translate.

“He told me it’s disgusting that I speak the Altean’s tongue so easily and told me I’m a traitor.”

Lance scowls, deciding just to get right into it. He looks him in the eyes, trying to feel strong.

“I’d appreciate it if you were kinder to my guard.” He tells him. “Anything disrespectful you say to him will not be taken lightly.”

Kethek translates his words and the galra stares, their expressions annoyingly hard to read.

When they reply Kethek is quick to follow.

“He asked if this was a joke.”

Lance swallows and opens his mouth to respond, but the prisoner keeps going.

“He said that you’re only acting like you have any care for galra at all because you have an agenda. He said you’re likely just playing nice to manipulate him.”

“I promise you that isn’t the case.” Lance says, pulling out the chair in front of him and sitting down, Kethek staying standing next to him.

“My only agenda is to speak with you.”

Kethek translated and the galra laughed bitterly.

“And what, you brought your galra slave along to make me feel better? You’re altean royalty. I give it three phoebs before you eventually take off his head with his own blade and parade it around the planet as a trophy.”

Keith translates the words and swallows uncomfortably when he finishes, not looking anywhere but directly at the galra.

The imagery shocks Lance, hitting him like a brick and making him sick. He knows it shows in his face- he couldn’t do much to suppress it, and he’s not sure if that is to his advantage or not. He’s not even sure of how to respond or what to say, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he tries to put together a sentence.

“I’m here to have a conversation with you.” Lance says as calmly as he can, choosing to not acknowledge what he’d said and keep pushing forward.

“My father started this war in anger and I don’t wish to continue playing out his battle of prejudice. I want to end this war, and I don’t think that has any way of happening if our two peoples maintain this hatred of one another. Even if Zarkon is taken down, loyal to him or not, galra and Altean’s will never stop fighting if we don’t try to understand each other.

Kethek translates and the galran laughs.

“So you come to me; someone you are currently holding captive, and think that this will make us hate you less?!? You imply the death of our emperor and expect us to understand you as benevolent?! After all the lives you and your forces have taken?!? You are completely full of-“

Kethek stops speaking, very clearly not wanting to translate the last word.

And when the galra keeps talking, noticeably getting more and more angry, Kethek doesn’t continue in translating. He just grows angrier too.

The prisoner is looking at Kethek now, his words directed at him, and very quickly it goes from a conversation between himself and the prisoner to a conversation between the prisoner and Kethek.

It’s a long winded rant of some kind; and Lance isn’t sure what’s going on until suddenly- Kethek completely snaps.

He yells out something so loud it makes Lance jump, not having expected it. His words cut off what the galra had been saying, and Lance looked up to Kethek on instinct, eyes wide and heart racing. Lance couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but he spat them out with venom. He was livid. And it was terrifying. Lance could see it in the way his fangs sharpened and his eyes began to glow. He looks ready to completely incapacitate him and Lance honestly isn't sure he’s ever seen him so mad.

The galra fires back with equal hatred, even starting to grin cruelly, sneering with an almost amused sort of disgust. It gets very heated very fast, and then, in a blink, Kethek went from standing beside him to standing next to the prisoner. In a flash, he somehow dead lifted him out of his chair and slammed him into the table, precisely making it so that his neck collided with the table edge. The galra is dazed for a moment before looking like he’s going to murder him.

He tries to get up from the table, sending his chair flying back in the attempt, but the table, bolted to the ground, yanks him in place and he falls to the floor.

Kethek then, clearly lost to his rage, delivered a sickeningly hard and swift kick to the side of his head that made him collide yet again with the tables edge. It’s so forceful that it almost knocked the galra out completely, visibly hanging onto his lucidity with a thread.

Lance’s jaw hung open. He literally can’t help it. It happened so fast that Lance was too stunned to react for a solid moment before his stomach dropped and he knew that this was bad. Really bad. This was Kethek’s galra training coming into play. His temper. This was not what was expected of him as a part of the Altean guard. Far from it.

Lance knew of some Altean soldiers being rough with prisoners, but it usually happened behind his back and he was only told about it later. They always reprimanded violent actions like that. No matter how horrible the prisoner was.

But this was personal for Kethek. Clearly. Whatever he had said had made him more angry than he had ever seen him.

It’s then that Kethek looks like he’s about to go for another kick, and in a panic, Lance rushes forward, tripping over himself to pull Kethek back, shouting his name as loud as he could.

The galran was still conscious, albeit barely, but Lance could tell that he heard him.

Kethek doesn't look at him, but he can see him compose himself just a bit, eyes fierce and never leaving the galras.

And in a move that Lance probably should have expected, despite him holding him back, Kethek, with all the force he has, finishes him off with a swift kick in the stomach, officially knocking the prisoner unconscious. His head lolls back and his jaw hangs open as his whole body goes limp against the table leg, his arms still raised where they’re chained to the tabletop.

Lance is too stunned to speak, confused on multiple levels, the most glaring one being that the altean guard- the ones that said they would rush in if they even suspected danger, had still not entered the room.

Lance knows they know that it’s protocol if any undue violence to a prisoner on behalf of a guard is found out it is their responsibility to end it. So what was it then? They thought Kethek was acting in self defense? They’d never given him the benefit of the doubt before. Honestly whatever the galran had said likely made it so that he was indeed acting defensively to some extent… but Kethek being galra meant, for basically everyone in the castle, that he would never get off scot free for anything if they could help it. And that made the situation more likely to be a result of the guards not caring. Because it wasn’t any ordinary prisoner. It was a galra prisoner… a galran prisoner who had committed no accountable crimes- unlike the countless non galra war criminals, tyrants, and murderers they have imprisoned. The altean guard didn’t care at all. Because to them… violence against galra wasn’t violence at all.

And that’s not to say that Lance didn’t assume that the galran prisoner didn’t deserve it. Kethek didn’t lose control over just anything. He was certain there was a more than convincing enough reason. But the apathy so clearly exhibited by the guard still made him livid. Sick even. To the point where he couldn’t actually convince himself that what the galran prisoner had accused him of wasn’t true. Or at least that the perception anyone who was not altean had of Altean’s being tyrants was not completely unwarranted.

The realization hits him all at once in only a moment, and it overwhelms him. So much that he doesn’t realize he’s moving back out towards the door until they’re almost halfway to its precipice, Kethek’s hand grabbing his bicep and pulling him out and away from the prisoner as fast as he can.

Lance’s heart jumps again, Kethek’s grip tight as Lance stumbles forward to keep pace with him.

“Kethek- what- ?!” He stammers, looking back at the galra before he has to turn back to Kethek to keep himself from tripping.

“What happened?!?” Lance asks. “Kethek, what did he say, what’s going on??

Kethek doesn’t respond. He just clenches his jaw and keeps charging forwards, and the closer they get to the door, the more Kethek’s expression shifts. Lance wonders if it’s on instinct, how quickly he manages to appear stern rather than livid, the features of his face softening to hide the rage still so clear in his eyes, clear only if you look directly at him.

It hurts in a way… to see how good he is at it. It’s scary even. Knowing how hard it is to tell when Kethek is hurting. But he knows. And he feels in the bruising grip of his arm that he might have broken down had it not been for this horrible ability that was drilled into him.

Lance decides then that he’s not going to let him bury this like everything else. Especially not knowing how much this affected him and that the whole situation kinda feels like his fault. He’s going to help him break down. Whatever this is, Kethek shouldn’t suppress it. He should never have to suppress anything.

So as they approach the door to leave, Lance steps in front of him. Puts confidence in his stride and determination on his face. He steps out into the sea of guards, ignoring them all as they stand at attention upon seeing him and rushes Kethek away before they can get a word out. Kethek has no choice but to follow him as he goes, leading him right to the first safe place he can think of on such short notice.

Dammit if it’s suspicious. Damn it all if he can’t cover his tracks. They need to get out of the public eye as quickly as possible.

They approach the familiar entryway, and Lance feels a pang of dejavu as he fishes the key out from under his tunic and opens up the door, leading Kethek up with him in a hurry.

By the time they reach the room, Kethek is breathing heavily and his eyes are wide with confusion.

“Why are we here, Lance.” he asks, voice trembling and betraying his true emotions. “We can’t be here - the guards watching the security footage of the interrogation room would be fools not to watch where we went - what are you-“

“Kethek.” Lance tries. But Kethek, likely upon realizing that they’re alone and that he actually can, starts to panic and fume with anger. But as much as it hurts to see, he’s relieved. Because it's working, and that cold, empty expression that had started to consume him is gone.

“How are we supposed to explain this! If they take me away from you Lance- who’s going to keep you from them?!?”

“Kethek.” Lance said softly, trying to be calming. He goes to him then, finally being able to, placing his hands on his cheeks, through his hair, down his arms before taking him into his own.

“I’m ok, Kethek. We’re ok. Tell me what happened.”

And Kethek is still angry, livid. But now his eyes are wet and his expression seems desperate. Desperate as he looks into Lance's eyes and lets him be close to him.

It takes him a while to say anything at all, just watching him and trying visibly not to break.

And then, his voice raw and low, he says “I won’t repeat a word he said to you. I refuse.”

“Kethek…” Lance sighs, his shoulders slumping forwards.

“I won’t.” Kethek repeats.

Lance sighs again, looking at Kethek, mulling over the right words to say.

“Nothing you say will hurt me.” Lance decides, speaking firmly. “And I know they aren’t your own words. I don’t really care what he said, I just know that it’s hurting you and when things hurt you, you need to practice understanding them and communicating it. You need to know that you aren’t alone and that I’m here to help you process whatever you go through. I want to do that for you. I don’t want you to fall back on your habits and suppress everything you feel.”

“But putting my trust in you and relying on you- that’s not my job! And every time I do I put you in danger!”

Lance scoffs. Kethek is really regressing now.

“Come on Kethek. It’s been a long ass time since this was your job.”

“It still is my job.” Kethek counters. “Whether or not I would still do it regardless. The fact of the matter is that I allowed you into a dangerous situation and I made it worse and now that and everything I do will reflect on you and if I do anything that gets someone to separate me from you or compromises you so that you can’t defend yourself that’s literally the difference between life and-“

“Kethek!” Lance shouts, cutting him off.

“I can’t hurt you Lance! I can’t be responsible for that! It would break me- you don’t have any idea how-“

“I think I have a pretty quiznacking good idea how!” Lance rebuttals, cutting him off again. “Because if anything does amount from this- which it won’t, I’ll be devastated, ok? Nothing is worth losing you and I wouldn’t dare lie to you and tell you that this won’t be as catastrophic as you are making it out to be, just for the sake of your feelings, if I didn’t genuinely believe that. You are panicking. This is a trauma response and in the past, you never could deal with your own emotions and it’s so unhealthy and I’m not going to let you keep burying your emotions. So when I tell you to tell me-“

“I’m not going to hurt you Lance I refuse to- “

“What did they say Kethek-“

“Lance-”

“Kethek please!”

“He called you a whore!”

Lance blinked, the room going dead silent as the words sank in, while Kethek’s head dropped as though the admission physically weighed him down.

“My whore,” Kethek muttered, shaking his head. “The word was worse than that but- but that’s the closest translation I can give you that won’t make me too upset to speak,” he continued.

“He could smell you on me, and… and he just- he told me he’d kill you just because I seemed to be affectionate towards you. Lance…. He wanted to kill you himself simply because you associate with me….”

Kethek isn’t crying, but he looks damn close too, his face cracking. But it’s good. It’s good. It’s so much better than the false, stone cold, emotionless expression that consumes him in his worst moments. This is right. He’s hurting, they can move through hurt. They can work together on it. Comfort each other. It’s impossible to comfort a statue though. It’s about as effective as comforting someone after they’ve already died.

So Lance lets himself smile, he lets himself run fingers through Kethek’s hair- which he now knows is one of his favorite of Lance’s habits by the way he melts into it every time.

“Doesn’t that feel better?” He asks softly. “To have that off of your heart.”

Kethek isn’t meeting his eyes yet, but he lets out a sigh, his chest deflating with it.

“Some things hurt you more the longer you hold them in. I know you know that all too well.”

Lance runs a thumb along his jaw, still trying to bring Kethek’s gaze up to meet his.

“Once you let them go, you aren’t the only one who has to bear their burden. And I get that that may be really, really scary. But you have people willing to share that burden with you now. I want to share that burden. Because helping you helps me. And I can’t stand to see you in so much pain. I won’t let you fight alone anymore.”

Lance’s trailing thumb drifts up to Kethek’s cheekbone and finally… finally Kethek looks at him.

His eyes are a beautiful shade of gold. But Lance swears if he looks close enough. He can see the shadow of his dark, human scalera just beneath, showing through a bit more.

Lance kisses his cheek. Slow and gentle.

“We’re ok, ok?”

Kethek nods, his eyes wet but his expression firm.

“And besides…” Lance says, letting his gentle smile turn into a little smirk, his eyes hooded and his voice even lower.

“I don’t mind the idea of being your whore all that much.” He giggles, knowing Kethek will probably be overly dramatic about that comment, and his giggle turns to a laugh when Kethek, very predictably, gives him a horrified death glare.

“Don’t even joke about that Lance.” He says angrily. “Don’t ever say that. I never even want to think that I could be taking advantage of you, I will never-“

Lance can’t stop giggling, his eyes shining with love. He plants a kiss on Kethek’s lips, smiling into them as Kethek’s angry rambling stops.

“I’m only teasing Kethek.” He grins, mouth still a breath away from his. “Just trying to lighten the mood. I only mean that more sex with you is very welcome, ok? I’m not your whore and I never have been. You’re just really hot and really sexy and I gotta take chances to tease you like this when I can get them because I miss you a lot.”

Kethek’s cheeks have a satisfying deep blush now and it makes Lance giddy.

“You’re really cute when you're flustered.” He grins cheekily.

“And you’re a pain in the ass.” Kethek mumbles. Lance recognizes it for the banter that it is, Kethek’s walls slowly lowering. He’d never insult him if he didn’t mean it playfully.

“No, that would be you, mister I have an unproportionally large d-

Kethek’s hand was on his mouth in an instant, Lance’s final words muffled into his palm.

And it’s small- tiny small, but Kethek’s eyes brighten and he smiles. Just a bit, his blush still fierce.

“Sometimes I forget how shameless you are.” He tells him.

“Oh man, if I could freely express my feelings about you, I’d be the MOST shameless. You would have a permanent blush on your face for the rest of time.”

“Is that so?” Kethek asks.

“Absolutely so.” Lance smiles. “But for now I’ll just have to save up all my shamelessness and dump it out on you in your special night time visits. Speaking of which- are you going to come by tonight? It’s been long enough.”

“Tonight?” Kethek asks.

“Tonight.” Lance grins. “I really need it to be tonight.”

Kethek swallows, contemplating it for just a moment before he swallows again and nods, the hand he has on Lance’s hip subtly rubbing it up and down.

“I'll come.” He promises.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

Lance squeaks, unable to contain a little happy hop as he leans back in to kiss him.

“Thank god.” He sighs, grin bright. “You have no idea how hard it is to not touch you, I’m so quiznacking hor-

Kethek’s hand is back over his mouth, blush brighter than ever as he tells him; “I need to be able to think straight for the rest of the day, so save it for tonight or I’m not going to be able to make it.”

Lance laughs. “We can’t have that, huh.” He teases.

“No, we can not.”

“Alright.” Lance sighs. “Fine. We should probably be going to the lion bay about now anyways.”

“Oh- shit, right- the training!” Kethek says, seemingly having forgotten.

It would be the first training session ever- in all of history itself- that they would be able to train with all five paladins present.

Lance wishes more people were aware of that other than just the other paladins- well the paladins minus Shiro- but fate would bring about the truth of the red lions return to Altea eventually if they ever wanted to defeat Zarkon. But it would have to wait until they found the right moment… Just like everything else.

Seemingly reading his mind, Kethek speaks up again.

“How are we going to tell Shiro… about… me… and you. And the red lion stuff. We still haven’t gotten a private opportunity with him.”

“This will be our opportunity!” I’ll show him around blue or something- just get him into a lion with the three of us, and because they aren’t surveilled, we’ll be able to speak freely.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, tampering with the lions is very much the biggest not allowed thing ever. Allura made that clear to the guards. But you can check for yourself if you feel you need to once we’re inside.”

Kethek nods and Lance kisses him one more time.

“I can’t wait to tell him.” He smiles. “Everyone deserves to know how amazing you are, but I’ll settle for just telling Shiro for now. I don’t get to tell people enough how hot, and brave, and smart, and kind you are and how much you make me happy. I can only tell Hunk so many times.”

And this time when Kethek smiles, it's a lot more distinct. Lance doesn’t have to search his expression for it. It’s right there plain as day.

He pushes back Lance's bangs gently and kisses his hairline, the move so gentle and affectionate it makes his heart ache.

It’s things like this that Kethek does just- without prompting… They make Lance realize just how deeply he feels and how beautiful his expression is. Lance wishes everyone could see it.

“Thank you Lance.” He whispers then, his voice a bit shaky. “You know being open is… really difficult for me. But I’m going to keep trying. For you. With you. And eventually… one day… it will come easy to me.”

And god Lance just wants to stay there like that with him for the rest of the day. He wants to see him look at him like that- eyes so full of love- for the rest of time. Wants to cuddle close to him and make him feel as special as he feels when Kethek is with him.

He’s almost dreading the distance that will inevitably fall back into place between them as soon as they leave the room. Hates the practiced expressionless gaze that will come back to cover Kethek’s beautiful, happy face.

But he sighs nonetheless, taking one last look and squeezing his hands.

“We should go.” He tells him softly. Reluctantly. “Can't be late to the first training with all of the Voltron paladins now can we.”

“After you, my prince.” Kethek nods, regretfully stepping back and gesturing for the door.

“Lead the way.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead, Takashi?” He hears him whisper.

His surroundings are dark. Too dark to identify.

His voice is so close, caressing the side of his ear, curling around from behind him into the center of his focus.

“That’s what you are to me, anyways. Dead.”

Shiro feels a pressure over his heart, a gentle but smothering touch. He recognizes these phantom hands. They visit him in his dreams more often than not.

The voice that accompanies them is gentle in the same way. Not like the gentleness he’d grown to love so much about him. It’s a gentle that stings and throbs and aches.

“You’ve been gone for so long… what else was I supposed to think. I knew the dangers just as well as you. And you chose to go and die.”

“You would have rather been beaten and bruised than pitied. But is there any solace in the fact that getting what you wanted took you away from me forever?”

“I’m not dead.” Shiro hears himself say, though he doesn’t feel the words vibrate through his chest or form over his tongue. They feel like a thought exiting his brain rather than thoughts being spoken.

But he hears him nonetheless, those phantom hands trailing to his cheek.

“You are to me, Takashi. What else am I supposed to believe until you’re back in front of me.”

“I’ll come back.” He says, the words still feeling transparent. “I promised you I’d come back.”

“And what then.” He says. Shall I forget everything of the life I had to build in your absence? Should I forgive you?”

The question echoes hauntingly in his brain, repeating itself before it can end, over and over until it’s a cacophony of sound he can’t make sense of.

“Should I forgive you?”

The words hurt. Even after he wakes up and forgets what they meant. Forgets that there were words at all. The pain lingers and stings and aches.
His head throbs. His heart breaks, and he's never completely sure why.

It was a type of ache that he didn’t even have respite from in his sleep. He felt it constantly. It made his vision warp and his eyes water and it took all his concentration to stay lucid while going through the waves of it.

It terrified him. Because it didn’t feel… right. He felt wrong in more ways than one. And finding Keith… or rather, Kethek- against all odds after losing him and not even being sure how… he can’t… under any circumstances be responsible for bringing harm to him. He knows he probably already did… and he can’t do it again.

He hadn’t known he was galra. Thinking about it was even more of a mind fuck than the general headaches and confusion he already had. He had no idea how it was possible. And he was pretty sure Keith didn’t either. It didn’t make sense. And it was all confounding into a stronger and stronger fear that nothing he was experiencing was real. He didn’t know why that’s what he was thinking, but he couldn’t ignore the impulse that it was all… somehow… in his head.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be here at all.

The Altean medics had given him some medication after the prince had been kind enough to request an evaluation for him, and he was grateful, but it didn’t help him escape the feeling. It just muted it. Only temporarily.

The prince seemed exceptionally accommodating and thoughtful… a quality he hadn’t necessarily expected from someone of such high status, but it was hard to miss how considerately he approached everything. He seemed easy to trust. And Shiro wasn't sure if that was a trait he’d gained strategically to aid him in his diplomatic efforts, or if he was genuinely a person who was deserving of trust. He wanted to believe the latter, but yet again, he couldn’t shake the thought of the former.

There were too many thoughts like that in his head. Thoughts that didn’t belong there. Thoughts he felt he should know better than to think at all. And yet they came. Planting themselves into his brain like seeds and growing to crowd his thoughts every day.

He doesn’t know what to do about them. Doesn’t know how to find any peace. Same as why he doesn’t really know how the Paladin meeting the prince had organized for this afternoon would go.

Some part of him, despite knowing how special of a thing it was to be chosen by a lion, couldn’t help but feel that it was all a sick joke. Because why him? And why now? When he’s felt the most distant from his own body and mind than he’d ever had before.

But he knew the gravity of it. He knew how important and unlikely it was. And it was the only reason he stayed. He couldn’t turn his back on this. How could he in his right mind- if he could even call it that- know that the black lion chose him and chose to ignore the destiny written in that. It felt like a dangerous decision, but a decision he had to make.

He gets up out of his bed, stretching and sighing.

He really wishes he had his memories of the past few months back. Maybe it would make being here feel a little more normal and a little less jarring and surreal. Because the last time he remembers waking up in a room, it was on the cold hard floor of a cell. Everything since parting ways with Keith was fuzzy. And he wasn’t sure why. But being here. In a comfortable bed. Knowing he and Keith were safe… it was too good to be true. And it made him think that maybe it wasn’t. Whatever that meant.

He looks around the room. Digs his nails into his palms, rolls his neck to the side and feels it crack.

He needed to snap out of it. He was here. And he should be grateful.

He changed out of the sleep tunic that the Altean’s provided to him and stepped into a new pair of clothes the prince had personally given to him. He’d only had his prison garbs when he arrived, so it was a welcome gift. It was a black vest and shirt, with some gray pants made from a lightweight but durable material that he couldn’t quite place. Definitely not anything that they had on earth- possibly something made from a plant sourced only on Altea.

He can’t appreciate it much though with the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his nerves only raise higher when he prepares to exit. He takes a deep breath and when the automatic doors open, he’s surprised to see two guards standing at either side of the entrance.

One turns to him, nodding respectfully. A respect he’s done nothing to deserve.

“Honored Black Paladin.” The guard says. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

“Uh… yes.” Shiro says. “Thank you. If you could direct me to the kitchens- I would like to eat before attending training with the prince.”

The guard nods.

“Of course,” He replies. “Allow me to escort you.”

Shiro doesn’t bother arguing against it. He figured he’d be escorted anywhere he went. The entire reason the prince was in danger was because of his status as the blue Paladin. The Altean’s logic probably was that news of any of the new paladins could get out and put their lives in danger too. And that meant having escorts and guards outside your door.

Shiro tries not to see it as a bad thing. By all means they were just trying to protect him. But the nagging feeling comes back full force and he actively has to fight against the idea that this courtesy is somehow threatening.

He pushes it out of his mind as best he can thought and follows behind the guard anyways, looking around at all the guards posted along the halls.

When they make it to the kitchens, his escort nods to him, tells him where he can receive food, and takes his leave to go back to his post, likely leaving him in the hands of the guards posted at the doors of the kitchens. Which is fine. It’s all fine.

Shiro is instructed to eat in an area separate from the common area where dignitaries and other important looking people are located. Many of them come forth while he eats, acknowledge him, and express their happiness that he was here.

Shiro takes it in stride, smiling pleasantly and nodding in return.

“These people are good.” Is what he has to repeat to himself in his head the whole time to pull it off. “These people are good, and I’m ok.”

The food is some of the best he’s had in what feels like a lifetime, though and it eases his anxieties just a bit. He knows that one of the other paladins is the head chef and wonders if this meal was his doing. Maybe he’ll ask him about it when he meets him. To break the ice and take his mind off of his worries.

He’s not sure exactly what training will entail, but he knows that the prince, who will likely be directing it, is sure to attempt to make it a non threatening and comfortable environment.

He takes his plate to the washroom and collects himself to leave, this time expecting the guards at the door who offer yet again to escort him to his next engagement.

As they walk to the hanger, Shiro looks around and tries to take stock of the environment, wanting to remember the path they take so that he knows it in the future and won’t get lost if he ever has to find his own way through the castle.

It is a massive, beautiful, breathtaking castle too. Intricately designed and truly awe inspiring. There’s enough individual detail in every hall that Shiro easily is able to identify landmarks and commit them to memory. It’s a skill he picked up from his many escape attempts on the even more confusing laid out galran prison ships. Whether it was learned or innate, he had a strong sense of direction and he, almost instinctively, mapped out every place he was in.

The lion hangers are located in a much more industrial looking area of the castle, the ornate detailing replaced with even higher ceilings and practical lighting. It was no less beautiful, but distinctive enough to be separate.

And when he arrives at the very heavily guarded doors of the lion bay, he is given immediate clearance to enter.

He thanks his escort and passes through the entryway, bracing himself for the awe inspiring massiveness that he knows the lions to be.

And yes, they are no less insane to be in the presence of as they were the first time Shiro saw them. They’re so big it’s almost mind breaking and his already frantic heart beats even quicker at the sight. By the looks of it, he is the first of the paladins to arrive, minus a few technicians and guards, but they pay him no mind.

The black lion is the furthest lion down the hanger, but it isn’t hard to spot amid the others, bigger and taller than the rest. Looking at it gives him chills, and his stomach swoops.

He begins to walk towards it, and once again, there’s a nagging in his mind. But it’s different from the other, stressful nagging he’d felt that day. This one was curious somehow. As if he was privy to someone else’s feelings of interest and curiosity.

It doesn’t become clear to him that it’s the lions until he gets closer, and he feels the curiosity shift to concern.

A soothing steadiness overtakes him and his mind, for the first time that day, goes still.

He recognizes this steadiness. It’s the same thing he’d felt when the lion first made it known that he was her Paladin. It’s an out of body steadiness, but it’s there nonetheless, and it’s comforting in a way he can’t really describe.

He gets a strong sense of gratitude then. Maybe relief? He can’t quite put his finger on it, but it feels like it has something to do with him being there. Maybe the lion is glad for it. Maybe she knew that he wanted to leave.

The relief is a firm one though. Almost scolding. And it inexplicably makes Shiro want to smile, the stern words of a mother coming to his mind, saying, “please don’t try that again.” Perhaps that’s what the lion is telling him. Perhaps she’s giving him feelings and associations to convey her emotion. Perhaps that’s how the lions communicate. Not speaking with words but with thoughts and analogies.

Shiro realizes belatedly then that he’s been mentally referring to the lion with feminine pronouns. Perhaps that was another thing the lion told him. Placing that association in his brain.

It was a bizarre experience, but Shiro doesn’t have trouble understanding it. Oddly enough. It makes perfect sense. A giant, mechanical lion speaking to him through his own brain makes perfect sense.

“Weird isn’t it?” A voice suddenly says. It snaps Shiro out of his head so violently he jumps, turning quickly on instinct to the direction the voice came from.

In his panic, despite knowing better of it, he sees Matt. He’s even about to call out his name before he mentally sorts himself out and remembers. This is Katie. Pidge. Matt's beloved sibling. Matt is missing. Him and his father are gone.

Pidge is sitting against the foot of the green lion, a pile of technology surrounding them. They wear what Shiro is sure to be Matt’s glasses and their presence feels so familiar that when they keep talking it almost hurts not to hear his voice.

“Still haven’t figured out a clear science that can explain how they talk to us through our own minds. And that makes it even weirder. Because I don’t confront a lot of things that I can’t figure out eventually. I’ve been with my lion for two years. I still haven’t got a clue.”

Shiro doesn’t know how to respond. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels he could lose himself into the delusion that this was Matt at any moment if he didn’t actively remind himself of the contrary and it only adds to that feeling of instability he’s been feeling in his own mind ever since arriving here.

His silence must be indication enough of his dilemma for Pidge though, because they don’t seem surprised.

“Is it the glasses?” They ask, giving him a tiny smile.

And that seems to pull him out of it, because he suddenly realizes that he’s just stood there standing at them this whole time. Gaping like a fish. He feels bad. Knowing that the topic of their brother is probably not something they can broach very easily.

“I’m sorry.” He says sincerely. “I- it caught me off guard.”

“No need to apologize.” Pidge responds. “I get it all the time. And you having been in dire circumstances with him, I worried that it could be a lot for you. That’s why I waited until today to talk with you.”

Shiro’s heart sinks. Matt’s intellect shined so brightly in Pidge. That foresight. That amplitude to seemingly be able to read someone’s mind and plot ahead for outcomes that haven’t even happened yet. It was somehow crippling and comforting at the same time. Pidge had been avoiding him. Knowing their appearance could pull up some trauma for him. He was lucky that he’d been able to pull himself together enough to stay in reality. But the effort on their part was considerate and kind, and he appreciated it.

Pidge stands up, tiptoeing through the mess of gadgets and wires to approach him, and when they get closer, he realizes that their eyes are wet with tears. Their voice stays steady though as they say,

“I’m glad you’re ok, Shiro.”

They smile, though it looks sad.

“It gives me hope that they are ok too.”

Shiro had memories of Pidge. Though they were fuzzy. He’d seen them for the first time at a dinner that the families of the Kerberos mission had at the start of their training together. Keith, Adam, Matt, Pidge, Sam, and his wife had all attended. Pidge had longer hair then and had stayed mostly quiet the entire night. So Shiro really got to know them through Sam and Matt’s fond stories about them. Sam would speak about them with so much pride, and Matt so clearly loved them deeply. They all had what seemed like a very, very close bond. And from what Shiro understood of the situation, Pidge had been very broken up about their leaving.

Shiro would have never expected to have found them here, let alone discover that they were the green Paladin. But a similar pride grows inside of him. He likes to think that it’s Matt and Sam's pride shining through him, and so he smiles. Genuinely. “I’ve heard so much about you from them.” He tells them. “They love you so much.”

Pidge nods, eyes growing wetter. And then, unexpectedly, they are hugging him.

It catches Shiro by surprise yet again, but he doesn’t hesitate to hug them back.

It reminds him how young they are. Their accomplishments and maturity make it something that he has to remind himself of, but Pidge is very much still a kid. And maybe a part of them had been avoiding him for both of their sakes, knowing how emotional it would make them to talk about their family.

“I know what you did for Matt.” They say then, their voice starting to wobble just a bit. “Kethek told me.”

They pull away from the hug to look at him, looking sincere.

“Thank you.” They tell him. “I wish you didn’t have to be the one to take his place. Or that any of it had to happen at all. But it was selfless. And brave. And from what I know of the lions, it’s very befitting of a black Paladin.”

Shiro chuckles a bit miserably. “That’s not something I would have thought. The previous black Paladin being the very person who put us in the situation we were in. If I’m also a black Paladin, I have to think of everything I’ve done in the context of what Zarkon would do. And that is an extremely disheartening thing. I’m surprised that doesn’t make you more cautious.”

Pidge shakes their head.

“Whatever qualities make you a fit for the black lion are ones you can choose to use to do harm just as much as they can be used to do good. Just because we all have the ability to bring harm doesn’t mean we are inherently bad. Zarkon, if I’m not mistaken, had his mind corrupted. When you lose your own faculties, it’s easier to make choices that you might not have otherwise made. On top of that, he was just… a violent person to begin with. You can’t compare yourself to that.

Duality. That’s what Pidge was talking about. Everyone being capable of anything. circumstances determining what side they lean towards. It should be comforting. But with the way he’s been feeling so out of control recently, it feels like more of a warning. Though he’s sure that’s not how Pidge intended it.

Pidge was wise, well beyond their years. It was amazing to see. And it was enough of a comfort in of itself that he smiles, pushing away his upsetting thoughts as best he could.

“You’re really so much like them.” He tells Pidge. “I hope you know how proud they would be.”

Pidge smiles back, small, but sure.

“I know.” They tell him. “And if I succeed, they can tell me for themselves.”

“You will.” Shiro assures. “We all will. I’m sure the prince will help in any way he can.”

And almost on cue, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the prince enter the hanger, Kethek at his side. He can see them talking to each other, not yet aware that they are watching them. They stand comfortably close to each other and as usual, the prince practically glows. His white hair, the shine of the silk he wears, the glint of his altean marks and the vibrancy of his eyes. He looks like he’s lit up from within. A stark contrast to Kethek, who in comparison feels dark and serious. Intimidating. They contrast each other in a way that feels complete.

The price’s gaze scans the room until he finds them, his face brightening as he waves. Kethek looks their way too, meeting Shiro’s eyes and holding them as though he was savoring the reality of him being there at all.

Pidge waves back, and the group of them move to meet in the middle.

The prince's smile gleams, his eyes shining with sincere excitement.

“Looks like you beat us here!” He says chipperly. “My apologies for my delay, we had some things come up that we needed to take care of.”

“I only arrived a few minutes - or- doboshes before you, we haven’t been waiting long.” Shiro says back, trying on his own smile.

“Great, I’d hoped as much.” He replies kindly. “Hunk will be a few doboshes late though. His shift in the kitchens is almost over but he assured me we could begin without him. So I figure we could take that time to individually become acquainted with our lions and meditate with them before beginning any group exercises. I can come in to meet with both of you inside the lion and answer any questions. I’ll warm up a bit with blue and then come and check on you, does that sound good? Hopefully Hunk will arrive during that time and I can meet with him as well. Say, in a half a varga, we meet back here all together?”

“Sounds good.” Pidge affirms, and Shiro nods, glad for a bit of extra time to collect himself before the training begins.

He turns to continue the path he had started to his lion and feels those familiar knots of anxiousness quickly reform. He hadn’t yet been inside the lion. Their massive size made for a pretty intimidating first encounter, and even then, he felt something inside of himself was… right. Better. He somehow was able to be terrified, awed, and soothed all at the same time.

When he gets close enough, he jumps as the lion begins to move. It lowers its head with a loud mechanical noise, and just like that, it opens its jaw and lowers a ramp right at Shiro’s feet.

It’s mind breaking. Truly. In every sense of the word. In all of the impossible technology he’s seen since leaving Earth, the lions somehow shatter his comprehension of what technology is capable of even more. They are elegantly and brilliantly crafted. Massive. Breathtaking. The head he'd had to crane his neck upwards to get a good look at, was now right in front of him, looking even bigger than it had when the lion was sitting upright.

He lets out a shaky breath, and takes his first step forwards, the ramp lighting up under his feet.

Slowly, he ascends into the mouth of the ship. Purple neon light guides his way and leads him past a panel in the ground that Shiro assumes goes to the lower levels of the ship. At the end of the path are two doors which open as he approaches, revealing a large room with light glaring inside through three massive window screens at the farthest end of the room. They display the interior of the hanger over a massive control panel. In front of the panel is a chair. It’s turned to face the entryway, almost as if it’s beckoning him to sit down. It’s a ways away from the control panel and seems to be on a track. Shiro assumes that when he sits down, it will move him into place.

He tests his theory, sitting down, and even though it proves him right, he still jumps as the chair jolts to begin turning him around and sliding him into position at the helm of the ship.

Two staffs bracket him in on either side of his legs once the chair stops moving, and a panel to his right with a glowing purple circle in the middle lights up.

He reaches forwards to the staffs, and though he swears that he shouldn’t know what they are for, he does. They control rear thrust, forward thrust, and when used together, lift. Somehow he also knows that the panel to his right is for a bayard, and for some reason he knows what a bayard is and exactly what it looks like.

It’s jarring in the most mundane way. As though you are sure you’ve heard a song for only the first time and yet you know all the words and you suddenly question if you actually have heard it before.

It would be even more confusing if he didn’t have the context that the lions communicate to their paladins through their own mind. Logically he assumes that this is the lions way of telling him the components of the ship. It doesn’t make it any less strange, but, at the very least, he thinks he understands what’s happening.

He tests his theory again, deliberately centering a question in the front of his mind.

“Is this because of you?”

The answer he gets isn’t given in words. Rather, his question suddenly feels less like a question and more like a fact. Something inside of him gains reassurance. Like he knew the answer all along. It feels like he’s answering the question for himself, but he knows he’s not at the same time.

The lion gave him a feeling rather than a sentence, yet again. And from those feelings, he comes up with his own answers in his own words.

It was truly a bizarre experience and he really didn’t know how he’s making any sense of it. Only he does know. And somehow it feels like he’s never not known all at once.

“This is going to take some getting used to.” He says aloud. Immediately after he feels reassured.

Not his own reassurance, though it feels like it. The lion is telling him that it’s ok to take his time. That he was meant for this. That it will all come naturally.

Perhaps, Shiro thinks, this is why the paladins and the lions are so formidable. Because the paladin's convictions are amplified and their doubts are converted into confidence. And it may be the lions doing but it feels like your own. So hesitation and inexperience become non factors. Like all the things in your personality that could make you vulnerable become shielded with armor. Perhaps it has a placebo effect, where you feel confident enough that suddenly you just are. Even though, if you were alone with no lion to feed you it’s thoughts, you would be paralyzed with fear.

The lions and the paladins become one. And you can imbue your mind with the strength of a machine.

It’s a little dizzying to think about, but it’s fascinating, and Shiro realizes that he’s not even sure how much time has passed, and that he hasn’t once felt unstable. No intrusive thoughts. No headaches. He just feels… normal. Steady.

He’s so lost in it that when the prince eventually arrives with Kethek it’s almost jarring, snapping him out of his head and back into a reality he hadn’t even been aware he left.

The prince smiles knowingly, likely understanding intimately the feeling of being spooked out of a meditative connection with your lion.

“There's no easy way to do that.” He confirms. “Hopefully it wasn’t too much of a jolt. I tried being as quiet as possible.”

“N-no it’s- it wasn’t bad, I just, I got lost in my thoughts.” The prince nods in understanding, still grinning.

“It’s so amazing to talk to people who can understand what it feels like.”

Shiro’s mind clicks with understanding, realizing that the prince, likely until now, had been the only person he knew of that experienced something like this. Shiro is sure he’d probably feel insane if he didn’t know he wasn’t alone in the experience, and he’s sure at some point, the prince probably felt very insular.

“I can’t imagine coming into this without context or guidance.” Shiro decides to say. “You must have felt so lost.”

“Absolutely. And at the same time, not at all.” The prince smirks. “You know what I mean.”

Shiro laughs. Genuinely. And wow it feels so good to laugh. To be understood. To have a weird experience be described and repeated back to him just like that. To feel connected to someone’s experiences. Maybe that was a big part of this Paladin bond that he’d been told about. The prince had been a comforting presence for him in general, but here, in his lion, he feels like he trusts Lance the same as he would an old friend. The same he would Kethek.

Kethek.

Keith.

The reminder that he’s standing at Lance’s side hits him and he’s not sure why it hadn’t hit him until now. He's silent, but his face is soft. Any softer and he may as well have been smiling.

Lance realizes that the two have caught each others attention and he puts a gentle hand on the back of Kethek’s shoulder. It’s blatantly… affectionate? By the look in his eyes and the gentle smile he gives him. And yet again Shiro is thrown for a loop.

Kethek and the prince share a look that Shiro can see they both understand that he had no context for, and then they look back at Shiro and Kethek swallows.

“The lions are safe to speak freely in. They are not monitored in any way. We can speak freely here. And as such, I… must admit it was kinda an ulterior motive to wanting to meet with you here.” Lance says. “We had hoped to tell you… some confidential information. This is information that can not be shared with anyone outside the five paladins.”

Lance looks back to Kethek, now soothingly rubbing his shoulder and nodding. Kethek looks anxious, but he sighs.

“Shiro, I…” he begins, pausing and looking down at his feet.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and slowly breathing out. He composed himself, and then, as he looked back up, his eyes changed. Just like that. The gold fades, and they reveal eyes that Shiro would recognize anywhere. Dark and deep and familiar. His brother's eyes. Keith’s eyes. The purple fades from his skin. His ears morph under his hair and somehow, his entire appearance quickly shifts from galran to human.

He can see more clearly now that Keith’s eyes are wet, his brows thick and drawn over his eyes.

Shiro’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it. Still can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Kethek has been this way the entire time he’s known him. Maybe it was a coincidence that he ended up being tortured by the alien race that his mother apparently hailed from. Maybe it’s fate. Either way it’s confusing, and maybe even a bit painful to think about.

He assumes that he shifts now because it feels more authentic in his presence. Maybe he does it for the sake of Shiro’s comfort. Maybe he feels somehow like he’s hiding from him, when they both know that isn’t true, and this is his way of symbolizing transparency and trust. He knows it’s been so much longer for Keith than it has been for him since they were together. Or at least, Shiro doesn’t remember it being as long as it had been.

He knows Keith has always been far more emotional than he lets on. He’s probably doing everything he can to keep himself composed now.

When Keith speaks again, he honestly should have seen it coming, but he didn’t, and it takes him by complete surprise.

“I am the red paladin.” He tells him. “We found out on the recovery mission a while back. I just… because of the queens, and the Altean public’s opinion of me, making this known to them could cause panic and unrest. So we have to keep it to ourselves. For now. But as you are also a Paladin… and…”

He pauses, looking back down to his feet, as if to compose himself.

“You’re my brother.” He says breaking just a bit. “My best friend. And I don’t know what kind of sick twisted fate it is that we both are here… and both are paladins… and that three out of the five of us came from Earth and were associated with each other… I just - I don’t think that this Paladin bond is random. And if fate had anything to do with it, it is a fate that was written long before the lions were even made.”

He takes a breath, looking back up to Shiro with a look of sincerity and emotion that Shiro isn’t used to seeing on his face without a hint of a scowl behind it.

“What I’m trying to say is that maybe all of this… all of what we went through had to happen in just the ways that it did to bring us all together at the right time. And maybe… maybe thinking about it like that can help us both find some healing. If only just a little. I know you feel like you shouldn’t be here. I know you haven’t felt well. But I can’t think of anything else to explain how we ended up here together other than fate. I have to understand this as being… meant to be. Because otherwise it’s too much to bear. If I can do anything to make you feel better about your position here, I hope that helps. Because it has helped me.”

Shiro’s head spins a bit with everything Keith had just told him that he has to reel himself back in a bit to focus on the root of his speech.

Keith was the red paladin.

He was a paladin.

And he was right. It seemed like too much of a coincidence for them to both have ended up as paladins. Let alone Pidge being a Paladin too. It’s almost unfathomable to think about. But it means that all five paladins have been found. And somehow, even before they had known they were paladins, they all were connected to each other in some way.

“Keith, that’s… that’s amazing!” Shiro decides to say, feeling pride well up inside his chest. Part of him is still hung up on what Keith said. Part of him wants to only focus on the insanity of Keith being the red Paladin. He knows if he lets himself, he’ll get lost in the mind breaking reality of it all. So he brushes himself off and tries to take a step back. Tries to realize that Keith- despite everything. Found his way and became a Paladin. He focuses on how amazing that is, and how far Keith seems to have come.

“How did- how did you figure that all out without anybody knowing!?”

“Well,” Lance begins to respond, “my sister and I are bonded to all the lions. Our father built them with connections to our quintessence, so Paladin or not, we could connect to their essence and know if they were close or in danger. My connection is stronger than Allura’s given that I also ended up being a Paladin, so I had dreams that alerted me to the red lion being in a predicament. Allura also felt uneasy about the lion but wasn’t sure why until I told her of my dream, and so I went on a retrieval mission and Kethek- or- Keith, accompanied me for my safety and for his ability to navigate galran ships.”

Lance looks to Keith then, that fond smile back on his face as he says, “and like a miracle, or… maybe not a miracle but fate, he was accepted by the red lion and gave us a way to escape the ship.”

Lance looks back to Shiro, that soft smile still on his lips. “We were alone. So we were the only ones who had witnessed his acceptance of the lion, so we decided to keep the circumstances of the retrieval a secret for his safety. As of now the queen believes the lion responded to me in a moment of need as the son of the creator of the lions, and helped me escape without me being its Paladin. In reality though, it was only because of Keith.

He smiles again at Keith. Who looks bashful, but equally as fond, and Shiro is a bit lost from it all, because Keith rarely has looked like that, in all the time that Shiro has known him. Shiro is by no means blind, he can very easily look at the two of them and assume that something is going on between them that he isn’t aware of, because they never acted like this in public and now suddenly they may as well be holding hands and Shiro’s mind keeps telling him that he’s reading into it because it feels too crazy to be reality.

But he’s quickly proven wrong not long after when they both seem to notice him scrutinizing them and snap back into reality.

“Ahh yes-“ Lance speaks up. “We also had another thing we wanted to share with you, the other paladins are also aware of this, but only them, and this may be nearly as equally sensitive as the red lion secret, so we wanted to wait until we knew it was ok to tell you. Your discretion here is extremely important. I have no doubt I can rely on you to be, but I just wanted to make it clear.”

Shiro nods, somewhere between confused and knowing, his brain not fully letting him believe his seemingly out of bounds assumptions just yet. But very quickly, as soon as lance speaks, his preposterous idea suddenly becomes reality.

“Keith and I are… involved. Intimately.” He tells him.

Keith’s head shoots to the side to look at Lance with a horrified expression, his blush growing deeper.

“Ew, why did you have to say it like that!” He balks.

“Like what?! That is the most accurate way to describe it!”

“What about ‘we’re in a relationship,’ or something?!” Keith challenges, looking horrified. “Is that not easier?!”

“Well we’ve never actually labeled it as that with each other yet, so I didn’t want to be presumptive!” Lance counters.

“Why would that be presumptive? Of course we’re in a relationship, what else could this be!”

“Well I wasn't sure if your standard for a relationship meant going on dates and being together in non secret ways! I feel like as far as relationships are supposed to go, we haven’t had the opportunity to do relationship things, really! I thought maybe then that meant that we weren’t in a true relationship yet! So therefore I used the term intimate because that would convey the same thing! What, are you concerned that the word intimate has more associations with sex? Or that it could be confused for meaning just sex?”

He turns to Shiro, completely seriously, and confirms it to him, saying, “I’m sorry if that created any potential misunderstandings, it’s not just sex, it’s much more than sex.”

Keith's face somehow gets even redder and it’s so bizarre that Shiro can’t help but be dumbfounded at the same time that he’s amused.

“Oh my god…” he mutters, putting his head in his hands. “If you say sex one more time I will kick you.”

Lance gasps, putting an offended hand over his chest. “Not if I kick you first!”

“I swear you’re doing this on purpose.” Keith moans, looking like he wants to die.

“Maybe I just like how much more visible your blush is when you’re in your human form!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious.” Lance says, suddenly smirking. “You’re adorable.”

Shiro blinks, eyes going wide as he looks between them both, at a loss for words.

They ping pong off of eachother like that for a dizzyingly long moment and as though realizing that he was still there, they both cut themselves off and look back to Shiro.

And Shiro can’t help but laugh. He looks at Keith’s embarrassed blush and Lance’s teasing smile and, he hadn’t expected it, didn’t think it was possible, but he feels happy. He’s so happy for Keith. Keith, who never let himself be playful even as a kid, now had a goofball of a partner, who, so clearly, made him happy. It makes his heart melt, and his surprise fades away, replaced quickly with joy, so, so glad that Keith had found this for himself.

And then he remembers himself. He remembers that this is a secret for a reason, and he remembers, quite jarringly, how dangerous this actually is. The realization hits him like a truck, snapping him out of his happy feelings.

They were putting each other at a lot of risk.

Shiro knew that they’d probably thought a lot about the risk and that they were probably very, extremely aware of it. He knows that there is a story behind their getting together that may explain their willingness to take those risks, but either way, he can’t help but be worried. For both of their sakes. For Keith specifically, Shiro knows how deeply he loves… and just how much it would break him if something went wrong. How quickly he’d allow himself to believe it was his own fault.

And maybe it’s the fact that they’ve probably heard this from everyone they’ve told thus far about their relationship, or maybe it’s because Keith notices something in his eyes that betrays his worries, but they both sigh, and Keith simply tells him, “we know,” as if he’d read his mind.

“I know you know.” Shiro decides to reply. “But you are the type to rush into things head first without thinking… so I just… I worry.”

Lance quirks a brow, looking between Keith and Shiro’s confusedly.

“Wait- HE jumps into things?!” He asks. “I mean yeah he’s a hot head, but I’ve never known him to be anything other than calculated and cautious.”

Shiro looks curiously at him, feeling suddenly sheepish.

That is not… what he remembers… unless he remembers wrong?

That fuzzy feeling- that unease slowly creeps into the recesses of his brain again, just a bit, and he’s not sure- he’s not sure.

“It’s been a long time… I guess.” He says softly. “I… forget that, sometimes. Maybe that’s why I-“

Keith sighs, biting the inside of his lip. When he speaks his voice softens in a way Shiro isn’t sure he’s ever heard from him. He cuts off Shiro’s confused mumbling and steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder.

“You both know very different versions of me.” He tells them both. Shiro knows the kid who would pick a fight at any opportunity… and you know a person who’s had one too many of them.”

“I'm not as impulsive as I used to be. He continues, looking at Shiro. And I’m still not sure if… in the grand scheme of things, I made the best choice with deciding to let myself be with Lance...”

“But I’ve never been so happy. And I’ve never felt so free from my burdens. Lance… Lance is… he helped me remember how to love. And it’s the only reason why I can still look like the Keith you know. It’s the only reason I can change forms. Because I don’t feel I have to keep myself in agony… for the benefit of others. I have hope that I can both enact change, and be happy. And I’ve never… ever had that before.”

“Please… don’t let me worry you.” He says then, speaking to just him, clearly having understood that he was starting to feel stressed. “You’ve been through too much already. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Everything I have improved upon… I learned from you, Shiro. That’s all I want you to take away from this. That I’m ok. And that I am happy. Even though the situation is precarious… I’ve learned how to be more cautious. And I kept you in my heart the whole time. I never didn’t think about what you would do in any situation I was in. It’s been a long time, yes. But you, in some ways, were with me the whole time. Guiding me and teaching me. So please don’t feel upset.”

And just like that, That creeping unease stills inside of him. Just a bit. He sighs, willing himself to keep composed as he looks at Keith. Really looks at him. So, beyond proud of the man he’s become.

Seeing him in his human form has made all the ways he’s changed even more apparent. He has a scar on his cheek that he didn’t used to have. And there’s a firmness in his features. A maturity. Like the 18 year old kid he was when they left on the Kerberos mission had faded away completely.

Keith was never able to be this sincere with him before. It took everything in him to mutter out the words he trapped in his heart. And Shiro has a sneaking suspicion that being able to be vulnerable like this is new. That it was only given to him by Lance. Shiro’s still sees nerves in him. Still feed his hand shake from where it rests on his shoulder.

This is still new to him. Still hard. But he’s doing it. And that’s huge.

However Lance has been treating him, however he was showing him love. It was working wonders. And it makes him want to thank Lance in a more substantial way.

Lance watches them both, the look on his face gentle and fond. Like he too also realizes how much growth it has taken him to be able to have this moment with him. It makes all those intrusive thoughts about the prince subside. The inexplicable fear that he was in danger. Or that there was danger at all when around him. For a moment, the only things he can feel for the prince are gratitude and respect.

He pulls Keith in for a hug, patting his back and feeling all the muscle in his build that he never used to have.

“I’m proud of you.” He tells him. “And I trust you. Please just… keep being safe.”

He looks over Keith’s shoulder to Lance, hoping to convey the same message to him, and Lance smiles softly and nods.

They pull away, and for old times sake, Shiro messes up Keith’s hair, playfully rubbing a hand back and forth over the top of his head.

It makes Keith scoff and Lance giggles, watching on.

Stepping forward to gently pat hair back into place after Keith gives him a “now you see what I deal with” look.

Lance sighs, his fingers lingering in the strands of Keith’s hair and sighs, tucking the hair behind his ear before looking between the both of them.

“We should probably meet up with the others to commence the group training.” He says. “Hunk arrived just before we came up here and I told him ten doboshes.”

Shiro nods, swallowing, knowing that leaving would mean possibly distancing himself from the consciousness of his lion and going back up feeling uneasy and wrong. But he follows them out anyways, not missing how both Keith and Lance seem to naturally fall apart from each other and build up a distance between them as they exit, Keith nearly effortlessly changing forms back to galran, when it had seemed before like his shift to human took a bit of self soothing and came as more of a challenge.

Suddenly, they’re out of his lion and back to a totally professional relationship. Seeing the shift makes him feel less oblivious for not seeing that they were in a relationship sooner. Clearly they were exceptionally good at hiding it. And, as predicted, the unease settled right back into his gut. It wasn’t like it was in his room, or outside of the hanger, but it was back, and it made his breaths cut short in his chest, having to remind himself to breathe in and out fully.

He sees Pidge and what he knows from context to be Hunk up ahead, chatting excitedly to each other as they approach.

He puts on a smile when they approach and extends his hand to Hunk.

“Yellow Paladin, I assume? Hunk right?” He asks.

Hunk lights up, an aura of friendliness shining out of him.

“And you’re Shiro! He grins to him, the Black Paladin, wow! It’s great to finally meet you!”

Hunk bypasses his hand and grabs his forearm. It takes him a moment to remember that this is the altean version of a handshake, and he shakes himself off of the initial confusion to do the same.

Hunk’s other arm is braced in a sling. And he feels the urge to ask about it, but Lance beats him to it, looking concerned.

“Buddy, I don’t understand why you don’t just go into a healing pod! You cook every day! How are you supposed to do that with one arm!”

Hunks scoffs. “I’m not going into a pod for a simple broken arm, Lance, it’s fine. I’d rather heal naturally when I have the luxury to do so.”

Lance sighs. “You and your natural healing.” He gripes.

“Hey, not even the doctors have a full understanding on how those pods work. Quintessence is weird. And we’re in short supply because of the war. I’m not going to waste medical resources on a measly broken arm. And being head chef means I can supervise everyone else’s cooking and don’t have to do it all myself. It’s all perfectly possible with one arm.”

“Quintessence is weird.” Pidge chimes in, nodding dutifully.

“See?” Hunk grins. “Even the resident genius agrees with me.”

“I am indeed a genius. At least on Earth. I’m still not sure how I stack up here.” Pidge says, nodding on. “But I got tested and everything. It’s certified.”

“Well aren’t you two hitting it off.” Lance smiles.

“Pidge’s tech is amazing Lance, have you seen it??”

“I have seen it.” Lance says. “But I’m going to have to leave understanding it up to you.”

“My tech is nothing compared to Altean tech.” Pidge counters. It’s literally flawless. Elegant even. And your understanding of it is so masterful.”

“I’m only masterful because it’s all I know. You picked it up so quickly and you're brand new to it, your tech will easily become more superior. And I can’t wait to have the honor of implementing it.”

The two keep going back and forth and Lance leans over to Shiro. “My genius goes down rabbit holes like this and it’s nearly impossible to turn off. How do you turn off yours?”

“Honestly I think the only way is to wait it out. Dramatic diversion can work sometimes too.”

Lance giggles and Shiro sees Kethek suppress what appears to be a smirk.

“Interesting!” Lance says, keeping the bit going. “What did you have in mind? Maybe I can get Kethek to accidentally alert the guards to an emergency.”

“I’m not doing that.” Kethek says, not missing a beat.

“The more you talk about turning us off, the less inclined we will be to do it.” Pidge suddenly says, jumping in.

“So you can listen to us when you get into your trances!” Lance gasps. “Kethek, make a note.”

“Not doing that either.” Kethek replies.

It sounds like no nonsense, but Shiro can hear the teasing in it. And apparently so can Lance, because he giggled again.

Pidge and Hunk relent tho, laughing and turning back to Lance.

“Ok, your royal highness, you got our attention, we're deeply apologetic for our momentary distraction.”

Hunk bows dramatically and Lance lifts his nose up with an equal amount of drama.

“We will discuss your transgressions later.” He tells him. For now, we actually should probably, really start training. I’m very important and busy, you know.”

Shiro watches it all, that same bewilderment coming back to him as he watches the prince be playful with the others.

Lance is nothing like he expected at all. As a prince, and as someone who Keith would choose as a partner. But it’s a positive thing. He’s not arrogant or self important. He feels quite the opposite actually.

“We need to take some time to understand each other and our roles. As someone who has the most knowledge on the lions as of right now, I will be directing the training and taking up a leadership role in the beginning processes.” Lance begins, suddenly and smoothly becoming all business again. But as far as the lions go, the blue lion and red lion are supportive, and the green and yellow lions have more defensive roles. It is the back lion that is the decisive head of the team and the role that is meant to take on a larger role of leadership.”

“No lion is more important, or more powerful than another though. It is vitally important to remember that. The lions themselves are only made stronger through a balance of power. Stronger together, weaker apart. This is an area that even I have not had experience in, as until today, I have not had a team and therefore have never understood the true power of my lion. So I will be learning the ropes alongside you in this regard, but we will get to that later. The first order of business are your suits and weapons.”

Shiro eyes the blue and white c shaped weapon on Lance’s hip, knowing that this is what he must be referring to. A weapon that connects you to your lion. Lance wears his weapon on his belt comfortably. A familiarity and confidence clear in his demeanor. Even when his life is in danger because of his Paladin status, the weapon, which so clearly marks him as a Paladin, never leaves his person. Always out in the open, without an ounce of worry. It’s a perplexing thing. But he assumes it’s because Lance trusts the weapon. Trusts his lion. And that trust was probably built up through his own self training. It was probably what they were going to focus on today.

“If you will follow me,” he says. “The weapons bay is just outside the hanger and all of your suits and bayards are there waiting. I will explain to you how everything works.”

Shiro’s stomach suddenly twists a bit more, not realizing that they would have to leave the hanger. Dreading it even. He searches his mind for the lion's consciousness, and feels her lingering presence in the back of his head. He holds onto it, focusing on it as he follows Lance and the others. Farther and farther away from his lion.

The room is just as Lance said, across the hall from the hanger, just a few feet away. The guards who line the hall eye them as they enter behind Lance.

It’s bright and looks extremely high tech, almost like a laboratory. Lance steps up to a panel in the wall and typed in a code that lifts up the wall in front of them to reveal 5 panes of glass. Behind each are 4 identical suits, each with different colors and accents that clearly match the color of the lions. The only color that is missing is blue, the one manikin without a suit clearly meaning that Lance has his suit elsewhere.

He presses another button, and the glass panels slide away.

“These are your suits of armor.” Lance tells them.

“They recycle oxygen, fluids (in dire situations), regulate body temperature, and connect to your bayard! Even if your armor is damaged, the undersuit will keep you from the cold if space. The undersuit also has self healing technology. If your suit is cut open or damaged, the suit will seal itself quickly to ensure there is no loss of oxygen or prolonged exposure to space.”

Shiro blinks at the very quickly passed over fact of these suits likely utilizing sweat and… possibly other bodily fluids for water in emergency cases. The technology is fascinating, and he’s sure it’s a life saving feature, but it’s surprising nonetheless.

Everyone else seems to pass it off as normal though, looking at their suits intently. Perhaps Pidge and Hunk are smart enough that this incredibly advanced technology is not a big deal to them, and maybe Kethek’s galran suit had similar features which is why it doesn’t seem to shock him. Either that or he’s still using his ability to mask his emotions.

He wonders if it wouldn’t surprise him either if he was able to remember anything since his failure to escape the garlan prison with Keith all that time ago. He wonders exactly how much knowledge is gone from his mind. If he knows anything important or threatening.

Perhaps that was what this feeling of unease was. His body desperately trying to get him to remember something vital.

Realizing that reminds him that he’s spacing out again, actively missing the important things the prince was currently saying, and he snaps back to attention.

“I'm sure you’re eager to try them on.” He says then. “The size will automatically adjust your body, so the first step is to stand on the light in front of your suit and allow it to scan you. Once it does it will adjust its shape and you’ll be ready to try them on and test them out.”

Shiro sees the light on the floor that Lance was referencing glow teal and he steps forward to stand above it, looking up to his suit, watching as a similar teal light lights up in the center of the belt.

A thin line of light runs up his body then, head to toe, and Shiro watches in awe as the suit expands to his size. He’s not sure what kind of material can grow and contract like that without any seams and without being too brittle or too malleable. It’s definitely something they don’t have on Earth.

“This feature is only available to paladins.” The prince says, speaking up as the rest of the paladins follow Shiro’s lead. “Your suits are connected to your lion and they too register you as a Paladin. Therefore using this armor if you are not a Paladin can be quite challenging, as its size will most likely not fit you properly.”

Shiro glances over to Hunk and Pidge’s suits, Pidge’s shrinking and Hunks growing in a similar way to how his own had.

The only one that remains unchanged is the red suit. It tugs at his heart a little to see. That Keith is unable to participate in all this. It’s not fair.

He resists the urge to look at Kethek, biting his lip. How are they going to train as a team without him? When will he get to participate? Will he do his own private training with Lance? How will they do that and avoid detection?

Well… they apparently have managed to find a way to sleep together despite being watched all the time, Shiro is reminded. It’s probably well within their ability therefore to find a way to get Kethek one on one training. But he still feels bad. It’s uneasy, knowing that there is still a limit to their team.

“Go on and try them on now!” Lance says excitedly, shooing them with his hands.

“You’ll have to remove the pieces of armor first to get to the undersuit and you can put the undersuit on first, over your clothes.”

Shiro follows his instruction, taking off his jacket and his belt to leave just his first layer of clothing, which is a t-shirt and that soft, jean-like material that Shiro can’t identify that’s some kind of other fancy Altean fabric.

“The armor all have hidden locks that can be unhinged when you hold your finger at the real sensor. The undersuit has a seam along the side that if you pass your finger over, will come undone.

Shiro approaches his suit and does as Lance instructs, watching the armor click apart with a quiet puff of air.

He removes the pieces from the undersuit gently and slides his finger along the seam of the undersuit. It seems to almost deflate, as if it had been suctioned to the mannequin, and falls loosely down. He takes it off completely and steps into the suit. When he runs his finger back up the seam, it seals itself again, and molds perfectly to his body, just as it had to the mannequin.

It’s fascinating, and it makes his heart pound a bit. He's not sure if it’s excitement or fear.”

He moves to put the armor in next, fitting the chest plate, thigh guards, knee pads, shin guards, and finally the boots. It all literally fits like a glove and it makes his head spin a bit. It makes it feel a little foolish for him to believe anything other than that he really was destined for this. That it was always meant to be him. Even more so than the lion opening up for him.

Hunk and Pidge also finish securing their armor, and Shiro glances over to them, watching them roll their shoulders and tweak their knees, testing out the comfort of the suit.

“This is wild.” Hunk voiced as he twisted around to try and look at the back side of himself. “It doesn’t feel like I’m wearing armor at all, it fits so well.”

“What is this material made out of?” Pidge asks, inspecting the arm of their suit with wide eyed curiosity.

Shiro smiled. He should have known of all people Pidge would be the one to voice that question.

“I believe it’s an Altean ore that my father infused with alchemic power, which is what allows it to change shape. I am not a student of alchemy myself so I don’t much understand the intricacies, but I can point you to the lead Altean alchemist if you are interested to learn more.” The prince suggests.

“That would be amazing, yes.” Pidge says, not taking their eyes off of their suit.

The prince makes a note of it on his pad, proceeding then to look over the rest of the agenda.

“Next in the order of business is your bayards.” He begins. He moves then to another panel in the wall and types in another code. The front of the panel lifts up to reveal three bayards, yet again similar to the prince’s in every way other than color.

Shiro notices that there are five slots, and that the two that are missing are the blue bayard and the black bayard. He knows why the blue isn’t there, as it is currently strapped to the prince's hip, but the black one- his bayard, is a mystery.

He hands the two of the three bayards to Hunk and Pidge, pointedly not taking the red bayard and giving it to Kethek. They both play it off completely nonchalantly, but he knows it must be frustrating. It even makes him a little sad.

“These bayards, like your suits, will take the form of any weapon you desire or need, though high levels of experience with the weapon is usually necessary to be able to conjure it.”

“Are the bayards not necessary for flying the lions?” Pidge asks, taking their bayard and giving it the same inspection they gave their suit.

“If you had the bayards this whole time, why were you worried about the galra finding other Paladins?”

The bayards allow a Paladin to access certain abilities their lion possesses. It serves as a conduit for deeper connection. Therefore, the lions are not useless without the bayards, but they are not able to be used to their full potential. Which leads me to my next topic.”

He turns to Shiro then, a disappointed look on his face.

“Shiro, I’m afraid that your bayard is still with Zarkon.” He tells him. “He kept it with him even after my father seized the black lion from him and locked it within the castle. Of course as soon as there are opportunities to attempt to retrieve the bayard, we will do so, but I’m not sure when that will be. Until then, just know that most of the things we require a lion to do for training purposes and most battles can be done without a bayard.”

Shiro nods, shrugging and giving a small smile.

“I’ll make do.” He promises.

The prince smiles back. “When we move to the training deck to begin using them, I will provide you with a weapon of your choice, if you wish.”

Shiro looks down at his prosthetic hand, contemplating. He’d never been given a weapon in the arena. All he was allowed was his hand. He’d had to do it enough that he got used to it and it felt more natural than any specific weapon. But maybe he’d try his hand at an actual gun or blade. For the sake of training.

He’s about to tell the prince as much when his mind finally catches up to what exactly he’s said.

“We’re moving to the training deck?” He asks, feeling that pooling worry in his gut grow.

“Yes, temporarily. I plan to take us all back to the lions after we finish.”

Shiro swallows, biting his tongue and keeping his, what are quite frankly, somewhat nonsensical fears to himself.

“If it is alright with all of you,” the prince continues, “I have asked Kethek to participate in this portion of the training. He is an exceptionally skilled swordsman and may be able to assist.”

Shiro nods along with Pidge and Hunk in agreement, knowing it was fanfare to be able to include Kethek without raising suspicion.

“Great, let’s head there now. We can get started.”

Shiro nods again, but he really doesn’t feel good about it.

The presence of his lions consciousness fades to the very back of his mind, enough so that he can’t feel it at all if he’s not diligently paying attention.

The prince is talking, keeping conversation and gesturing about the halls of the castle, but Shiro can’t hear him, trying with his entire focus to keep the black lions presence with him the farther they go away from the hanger.

By the time they reach the training deck, logically Shiro knows it only took a minute or two to gets there and that they were just down the hall, but it felt like years and miles in his mind.

The prince leads them to an armory of sorts that rises from the floor, and Shiro feels like he stares at it for at least an hour, his mind feeling like it was moving so rapidly, his thoughts passed by too quickly to comprehend them.

Silence rings in his ears and it isn’t until a hand meets his shoulder that his senses snap back into attention and he hears a garbled sound that he is pretty sure was the prince's voice speaking his name.

“Are you alright?” He asks, concern in his voice.

Shiro feels a chill run up his spine, making him shake as he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the armory and back to the princes piercing blue eyes.

“Yes. Your highness, my apologies, I… I’m just rather impressed with all of this. I got lost in my head.”

The prince smiles.

“Not very much like Earth technology, I can assume.”

“A far cry.” Shiro confirms.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll adapt wonderfully to it. I have no doubts. And though presumably made of different ore, the non technological weapons may be familiar at least. Please, choose one, or-any that are to your liking. This can be in lieu of your bayard, though it is a bit more cumbersome to carry around without the ability to shift.”

Shiro shakes his head. “I’m grateful nonetheless.” He tells him sincerely. “Thank you for accommodating me.”

Lance nods, insisting it was nothing as Shiro steps up to the assortment of weapons, his eyes scanning over them meticulously. All of the weapons contain a glowing teal crystal. He wonders if it is more for utility or ornamentation. He assumes it’s a bit of both, as that seemed to be the case for most all altean creations.

He picks up one of the few weapons with a black hilt, testing the weight of it in his hands carefully.

He feels…. Really… unwell with a blade in his hand. Like he’s going to do something with it that he won’t be able to take back.

It’s an intrusive thought. One that his doctor had told him about during the early years of his diagnosis when Shiro recalled unwillingly thinking up terrible scenarios of his fate, wherein all his muscles atrophied, or he had to be amputated down to a head and torso.

The thoughts always felt completely unprompted, and they terrified him to the point where he’d begin to panic.

The feeling of this blade in his hands felt a little similar to that, only the terrible intrusive thoughts flipped through his mind so fast that the content of them was mostly a blurr, leaving behind only terror.

His panic must have been well enough disguised though, because the prince carries on, taking his own bayard off his hip to begin a demonstration for the others.

Shiro watches distantly as the prince easily manipulates the bayard, the weapon lighting up in a flash of blue and becoming a pistol. It lights up again and turns into a sniper rifle, and then once more into a broadsword. He is speaking all the while and gesturing animatedly but Shiro feels worse, his head spinning as the panic in his gut feels like it moves through his whole body, right up to the tips of his fingers.

He’s so lost that he misses the soft expression of pride that Kethek lets slip onto his face. He doesn’t even see the flash of yellow as Hunk finally manages to transform his bayard into a giant, heavy gun, and Pidge into a small, precise, electrified blade of some kind.

He registers it all in the back of his brain and the others only seem to become aware of his inner turmoil when he drops his sword. He doesn’t hear the clang of it flattering to the ground, but the others must because they all jump and turn to him with wide eyes.

He can’t manage to say much. Not sure what was happening or why it was happening. So he just tells them the first thing his mind can think to pull from the scramble of his thoughts.

“I can’t do this right now.” He tells them. “I’m sorry, I- I’m feeling really….”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, no word feeling fitting of what he was experiencing.

The prince is there in an instant. Shiro feels his gentle hands on his back and the side of his arm. They help, if only just a bit.

“Perhaps we should call it a day.” He manages to hear the prince say gently. “Don’t worry, we can always resume another time, it’s ok if you need a breather.”

Shiro doesn’t respond. Can't respond. Worries that if he goes he might say something he’ll regret.

He doesn’t dare look at Kethek. Not sure if his expression will be carefully blank or concerned. Honestly neither are preferred options.

He’s shaking. He can feel it now. So he chooses just to nod, wanting to leave before anything gets past the point of no return- whatever that would look like. He doesn’t want to find out.

Lance takes him to a guard, their exchange sounding more like a ringing in his ears than words, and just like this morning, he’s escorted to his quarters.

He goes immediately to his bed, hoping that sleep could reset him a bit. He needs to get out of his head. Let his subconscious take over. Maybe sort out the confusion for him.

He lays down, closing his eyes from the teal glow of the Altean lights and he breathes. Slowly. Doing his best to focus on only that.

He breathes, and he breathes and he breathes, until sleep comes to silence his mind.

Allura is not one to tire easily. Her stamina is something she has prided herself in since she was young. It was always something her father told her he admired and envied about her too. It makes it, at least a bit more tolerable, when she has booked solid days like she had today.

It’s also on days like today though, for the very reason that she knows she would otherwise not give herself any brakes, trusting in her ability to power through, that she forces herself to schedule something for her mind and soul rather than for meetings and work. Today's break, she decided, would be a visit to her father and mothers chambers.

It had, regrettably, been a while since she’d had the time to visit with them, but she had promised herself this date at least a phoeb ago, so she would commit to it, even if it pushed her a bit behind.

It was always a peaceful thing. And she wished she could visit with both of them at once. Perhaps they’d improve the technology to allow for that one day, but for now, she had to settle for one at a time. Buf she was glad for it, regardless. She missed them dearly. And hearing their words and listening to their voices, even if it wasn’t real… It helped. At least a little bit.

It’s perhaps this change of pace that leads to her next surprise good thing that day.

She sees Lance turn a corner up ahead and she smiles, rushing to catch up with him.

“Lance! She calls. He turns around curiously, giving her a small smile as she approaches. It’s cold. Like it usually is these days, but she takes it in stride, wanting this to be a happy conversation.

“How rare is it that we bump into each other like this!” She tells him, putting a gentle hand on the side of his arm.

Lance however looked mildly uncomfortable at this though, even with it being well hidden beneath his pleasant smile. If Allura didn’t know him so well, it would have been easy to miss and it would have hurt less.

He is with Kethek, as he always is, Kethek standing straight and rigid behind him. He bows upon seeing her, as he always does, and it feels as much of an act as it ever has. It makes her nose wrinkle.

She decides to not let this too ruin this interaction though, looking away from him and back to Lance, doing the best to keep him from her mind.

“Kethek and I are returning from the lion deck. We trained with the other paladins today,” he tells her, and it brightens her mood significantly. The mere fact that there are other paladins for Lance to train with at all still hasn't fully set in, and the enormity of that, now passed off as a simple fact, makes her heart flutter with joy, her fathers dream- almost a reality.

“Splendid!” She smiles. “Did it go well?”

“It went well, for the most part.” Lance nods. Shiro became a bit unwell towards the end so we had to end early so he could rest, but all the paladins had time to be with their lions and each other. So it was a success regardless.

“Great.” She smiles. “That is so wonderful to hear.”

And then she sighs wistfully.

“I so wish I could hold a banquet to honor all the new paladins. They deserve a more grand welcome than what they were given.”

She grins at her own words then, wiggling a bit in excitement. “New paladins! Ha! I still can’t believe I get to say those words.” She giggles. “But I wouldn’t dare put them at risk. Hopefully by the time it is necessary to reveal that the other paladins have been found, we will have the red Paladin found too. That way we can honor them all when the time is right.”

Curiously, Lance's face seems to sour a bit at her words and she raises a brow in question.

“And what if the Paladin isn’t honorable. I mean, by your standards.” Lance says suddenly. Taking her by surprise. “What if Xanten comes back and suddenly the red lion chooses him. What then?”

Allura blinks, some uncomfortable mix of confused, repulsed, and angered.

She can’t say that it wouldn’t be possible. Not when Zarkon himself was once the black Paladin. Maybe that is what Lance is getting at.

She sighs, letting herself calm down a little so she can offer him comfort.

“I don’t think you have to be worried about that, Lance.” She says gently. “Especially not with fathers former lion. With how wonderfully things are going, I have been able to put those fears aside and trust that the lion won’t make such a mistake.”

Allura expects her words to be a comfort, but Lance's face turns from sour to shocked. Insulted. Allura quickly goes back to being confused as she looks at him.

Lance laughs. Bitterly.

“Gods.” He mutters, turning away from her, the most frustrated and condescending look on his face. Like he thought she was insultingly dumb.

It makes Allura want to argue. To yell at him for disrespecting her for no reason, but she calms herself yet again. Trying to understand that Lance must be stressed. That he might be projecting his anxieties and fears onto her.

He opens his mouth again then, a fire seeming to spark more anger in him, when suddenly a loud bang rings out, echoing around the castle walls. Whatever Lance was going to say, and the panicked expression he had worn fell completely. Fear and dread replacing it.

Lance acts instantly. Before anyone can realize what’s happened, Lance stepped out in front of Kethek, gasping and throwing an arm across him, his eyes wide with panic. His gun is removed from his holster and charged up, his finger on the trigger, poised to shoot. And only in the stillness of the following moments, where he realizes that nothing is coming, does Allura realize the raggedness of his breaths. The way his arm shakes where it is extended stiffly out past himself and Kethek.

Kethek is there in an instant, moving out from behind him, concern hidden behind a glare of concentration.

“It’s ok, your highness,” he soothes. Well- as much as the firm command Kethek offers could be considered soothing. He places a hand on his shoulder. And it’s… gentle. He trails it down his arm, fingers fluttering at his wrist before trailing back up again to grasp his forearm and lower his other arm with his free hand, taking the gun from his shaking hands and putting it back in the holster at his hip.

Lance’s shaking stills under his touch. If only for a moment.

Allura sees it all pass in an instant, as it was only brief. Only meant to be brief. Meant to pass off as concern and nothing more.

But there’s a nagging in her gut. A pooling rage. A frantic association that passes through her mind that has her heart pounding.

She dismisses it as soon as it sparks in her mind though, because no. It was preposterous. She was making things bigger than they truly were.

But then she hears him again. A quiet, soft, “Lance” passes over his tongue and into Lance’s ear and the preposterous idea flickers back to life again and makes her clench her fists at her sides, taking a deep breath to still her heart as she watches Lance settle and come back to himself. At Kethek’s call.

“It was just some guards sparring on the training deck, my prince.” Kethek says softly, trying to meet Lance’s eyes now that he recognizes he’s coming back to himself just a bit.

But it’s Lance’s shaken reply that seals Allura’s frenzied thoughts.

“You’re ok?” She hears Lance ask softly, finally l meeting his guards intense gaze.

“Very well, your highness.” Kethek replies. “There is nothing to fear.”

It’s guilt. Allura tells herself. Her mind screaming the thought. It’s guilt. Lance is just that kind of person.

But Kethek? Allura had no explanation for the gentle touches. The way he spoke his name and not his title.

Whatever the reason, she hated it. It made her angry. Livid even. Because Lance never let himself get close to anyone. Not really. And recently… not to even her.

She’s stepping forwards then, almost on instinct, inserting herself as best she can into Lance’s space to hug him. She pulls him toward her and away from the guard.

Lance’s several inches on her feels like something she’ll never get used to. She has to stand on her toes to truly reach him. As time went on, he kept becoming… more and out of reach. She feels his heart thrashing where their chests meet and it takes several moments for him to finally move. But when he does it’s only a gentle hand on her back. Reassuring but distant.

“I’m ok, Allura.” He manages to say, his voice still shaky.

“Good.” She says, her face tucked into his neck. “I’m so sorry Lance. I should have known. I should thought better about bringing you down this hallway, I-

“It’s quite alright.” Lance tells her, cutting her off. His voice is even steadier now. Allura hears it immediately. The formality. The walls rising back up. “However, if it is ok, I feel it is best that I continue on with my day. I could use the distraction. I’ll have Kethek take me to my next engagement now.

Allura pulls away, hating how quickly his guard's name came back to his lips.

But she sighs, pushing it aside and lets go of him.

“I think that will do you good.” She agrees. “And please remember to rest, don't overwork yourself, and let me know of any way I can be of further help.”

Lance just nods, looking past her to Kethek as he backs away. Then, wordlessly, they both turn to walk back the way they had come, Kethek two steps behind him, just as always.

It hurts. It hurts in so many ways she can’t identify one cause from the other. And it just makes her angry. Angry and upset and confused.

In her mind's eye she sees her little brother. The boy who would rope her into some kind of scheme that got them in trouble. The teen who would knock at her door late at night and flop on her bed, telling her all about his crush of the month. She missed him so much it ached.

Really and truly she didn’t know him anymore. Not at all. Especially the person who now seemed to trust Kethek more than her. Kethek. The galran assassin. The one who placed a blade at his neck within the first few ticks of meeting him.

Her anger and sadness and confusion and pain all boiled higher in her chest and just like that, she felt a hand on her shoulder. One she recognized plainly, without having to turn around.

“Perhaps it’s best you rest too, my Queen.” Coran says gently. Likely having shown up as Lance walked away. “I will attend all your lesser obligations in your stead and reschedule any of importance.”

Allura sighs and after a moment… shakes her head.

“I appreciate the offer, Coran. But I am fit to continue my duties. Do check up on Lance later for me if you can, however. I am… worried. To hear only a noise and have that much of a reaction… it’s deeply concerning.”

“Of course.” Coran replies. “I’ll see to it as soon as I can.”

Allura turned to look at Coran, his concern evident, and tried a smile. “I promise I will rest as soon as I am able.”

Coran gave a smile back and sighed.

“That better be a promise, young lady.” He quipped, tussling the hair on the top of her head.

“Of course.” She smiled, and kissed his cheek before giving him a small, tight hug.

She was so thankful for him. Now more than ever. With her parents gone and her brother so distant that it was like he wasn't there at all, Coran seemed to be the only bit of normalcy left.

“Thank you.” she whispered to him then, doing all she could to keep herself composed as the gravity of how much his presence did for her settled around them.

“Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn't be anywhere else, Allura.” he said gently.

Allura pulled away, mentally shaking herself off and giving him one last smile and a squeeze of his hand before she continued on, off to her next engagement.

Kethek could tell that Lance was frustrated. A bit more so than usual. He seemed a mix of annoyed and angry and baffled and he assumes it’s because of Allura’s behavior.

His irritation seems to grow worse with every passing hour of meetings about food rations and financial discussions with the armory and news of recent galran occupation.

He seems to be trying to be his usual level of pleasantness but he’s very much not succeeding. Even Kethek can tell he’s not in the mood. And given the way the people he meets with tread around him a bit more delicately than they usually do, they can tell too.

By the time he is finally able to retire, he’s practically dragging Kethek back to his room.

They arrived at his door in record time and Lance didn't waste a tick, moving in close to him.

Lance's lips almost brushed his ear, the heat of his breath warming his entire neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You remember your promise, right? Come tonight.” He whispered, so quietly that nobody but them would hear it. “During the guard shift.”

Kethek swallowed, struggling to keep his lips from pursing - from showing any expression at all.

“And stay.” Lance continues. “It’s been long enough to get away with the excuses.”

He hears Lance hold a breath, like he’s hesitating, and then he swallows.

“I miss you.” He whispers.

It makes Kethek’s heart ache.

They hadn’t had the time to be close almost at all. And though it was a necessary distance, hearing the longing in Lance’s voice increased his own. He missed him too. Ironically. Since he almost never left his side. But they both wanted more than mere proximity. And Lance was right. After so long, they could potentially get away with more again.

Kethek doesn’t say anything. Lance likely wasn’t expecting him to either. He steps away and proceeds as normal. Like nothing happened. He’s exceptionally good at that.

“Goodnight Kethek.” Lance says cordially.

“Goodnight, my prince.” Kethek replies, bowing.

They turn away from each other, Lance stepping quietly into his room and Kethek going down the hall for his usual end of the day briefing with the guard.

He arrives, gives the full report of the day's events, trying to keep as concise as possible, because god, he had other places he’d rather be, and then he’s out, trying not to seem like he’s rushing.

He follows the same path he's followed every day since his arrival from the briefing room back to his quarters and finally, finally lets his nervous energy surface as the doors close.

He lets out a heavy breath, feeling jittery.

He knows what Lance will likely have planned. He’s known. The first time it happened rather naturally. Nothing was truly premeditated. At least not on his end. He’s actually quite sure that Lance had some kind of agenda, whether or not he knew if he would follow through with it.

But this is different. And god, should Keith be this embarrassed about being nervous?

He decides to take a shower. Not really sure of what else he could do to prepare. He didn’t want to smell all night long. But a shower actually doesn’t help at all, because the only thing he can think about the entire time standing under the stream of hot water is Lance, and it does not help with his composure at all.

Lance had been… unreal. He honestly has to remind himself it wasn’t some fantasy he’d dreamed up sometimes. Kethek wanted to make him feel the same way. He wanted their limited time together to mean something. To be special.

The last time, it ended with a gun pointing at his head and maybe that was it. Maybe this was the first time they’d really do this without… anything between them. And that made it… even more special and nerve inducing.

He tries to ignore the stirring in his gut. Tried to calm himself down as he dries off and steps back into his armor.

One day this would be… normal. He has to believe that. In another time, and another place, he would have never let the thought cross his mind. Would never let himself believe that any kind of domesticity would ever be possible. But he wants that. He wants it so bad. And maybe… maybe tonight would finally be a time where he could have a taste of it.

So he does something crazy. He moves to the bathroom and puts his toothbrush in his pocket.

As soon as he does it it feels ridiculous. He is embarrassing himself even when nobody else is around. But he doesn’t let himself put it back. It’s the only thing he can bring of his to Lance’s room that can be well enough hidden or explained. And it feels silly, but… having something like a toothbrush… in his space… felt a little bit like he was becoming a part of it. Like he was meant to be there. Like he could stay. He could brush his teeth side by side with Lance as they got ready for bed and he could help him into- or out of, his night tunic.

He could rub his shoulders as he combed his hair and-

God. He needed to stop. This was ridiculous. Honestly what had Lance turned him into?! He wants to be mad at himself. But honestly he can’t even do that. His heart just kicks in his chest, making him feel… regrettably… giddy.

He huffs out an irritated sigh and shakes himself off. Tucking the toothbrush away and stomping back out the door, not letting himself think twice.

The path back to Lance’s room is ingrained into his footsteps. The guards pay him no mind and, on cue, as soon as the guard shift begins, he makes his move. He goes to the guards outside of Lance’s door, telling him he was requested to discuss something with him, Lance answers his knock, they walk into the room together, and it’s all in time for Kethek to know that the guards will switch out with new guards, who will have never seen him come in at all.

Lance, as usual, pounces on him as soon as the door closes, and Kethek isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to not completely melt when he does.

“Why. Do you always. Take so long?!” He chides, each word punctuated with a kiss. His warm hands cup his jaw and he’s already pulling him towards the bed.

“Why are you so impatient?” Keith responds, managing to give Lance a teasing smile as he continues kissing every surface of his face.

“You know quiznacking well why, hot stuff.” Lance sighs.

“God I couldn’t wait for this. I miss you so much all the time and today was such a pain in my butt, like Allura, oh my GOD, Allura, I’ve been needing to yell about that for the entire day, is she kidding??!? Like she honestly thinks the lions make… mistakes?!” Lance scoffs. Is she really that delusional? Has she just convinced herself that Zarkon was always inherently evil? Or, no, galra. She’s convinced herself that galra are inherently evil. Right. She just… conveniently lets herself forget that Zarkon was once my fathers most trusted ally. But then she says that right in front of you, completely obliviously, like- I wanted to scream!!!!”

Lance says it all in basically one breath and, his words are coming out of his mouth so fast that he has to stop kissing him, and Kethek just has to sit back and watch it all unleash, unable to help the fond smile from his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re supposed to be very angry about this.”

“Well it did take me by surprise that you gave her the biggest hint to a secret that she very much can’t know yet completely randomly without any prompting.”

“She’s too dense to figure quiznack out, she would sooner realize every secret to the universe before she let herself believe that you are the pilot to my “perfect” fathers lion, gods forbid.”

The venom in his words is palpable and Kethek knows Lance has grown to think of his father quite poorly. He also knows that Lance is going to get actually, genuinely worked up if he keeps thinking about it, so he lifts his hand to brush through the sides of his hair.

It does exactly what he’d intended, Lance’ face softening almost on cue.

“I’m ok, Lance.” He promises him. “I don’t let it bother me. Try not to let it bother you.”

“How can I not?!” Lance pouts. “Gods, they just… it makes me so upset.”

“Well if there’s anything I can do to improve your mood, you just say the word.” He smiles. He means it suggestively. And he has no idea if he managed to make it come across that way until Lance's pout turns into a smirk.

“I have a few ideas.” He admits, though he's not bashful about it at all.

He then pulls Kethek the remaining distance to his bed, twirling him around and pushing him back into the mattress, not wasting time, and god.. it makes him so weak. He loves him… he loves him so fucking much.

Lance crawls over him… a vision unlike any Kethek had ever believed himself capable of seeing.

Lance's sweet smile melts him. His piercing blue eyes stir his stomach.

Straddling him, he lowers himself over his chest, smirking in the most … romantic and loving way. He leans down even more to give the softest kiss to the side of his jaw before he whispers in his ear.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Kethek quirks his brow, unable to help the quirk of his lips that Lance always seems to know exactly how to pull from him.

“Oh?” He asks.

Lance nods, a mischievous grin growing.

“You’ll have to unwrap it.”

Kethek’s brow raises even further.

Lance sits back onto Kethek's lap, his hand moving to tug gently at the bow that ties his tunic together.

“See, there’s a bow and everything.”

Kethek smiles, lifting himself up a bit and holding Lance’s lower back, his other hand going to the bow and playing with the ribbon. He looks at Lance, drinking him in. The white wisps of his lashes, the blue of his eyes that Keith swears glow as brightly as the markings on his cheekbones. The whole of him glows really, it makes him melt.

“Alright.” Kethek whispers, his lips almost brushing Lance’s. “I’ll unwrap my present.”

Lance was his gift. At least, that was the truth for Kethek, and when he went to pull at the ribbon of the bow and begin undressing Lance, that’s what he thought it would be. A cute analogy to get Keith to take off his clothes. But then, as the tunic fell from his shoulders, Kethek realized he’d actually had a present underneath.

He was in what Kethek would describe as lingerie, only this almost seemed like tattoos of lace rather than garment purely. The lacy fabric was molded to his figure in such a way that it seemed as though flowers were blooming from his skin. Spirals of flora arching over his rib cage and up his chest, into the dips of his collarbones, around his nipples, and swooping low to his belly button. Another trail of lace began at his hip and went down past the pants Lance was currently lifting himself on his knees to take off.

Kethek watched in awe as the rest of the trail of lace was revealed, indeed becoming something akin to underwear that showed much more than it hid.

Kethek’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes wide. He’s quite actually speechless as his eyes drink if all in.

Lance chuckles, sitting back down into his lap and making all that the garment was doing nothing to hide plainly and beautifully visible.

“You want to know a secret?” He asked, his voice deep and sensual. I’ve had it on all day.”

Kethek swallows.

“You had this on all day?” He asks, finally finding the ability to speak.

“Mhm.” He nods “And one other thing. Which reminds me, there’s one more surprise. He said, gently nipping Kethek’s lip playfully.

Kethek suddenly and quickly realizes what he must be referring to and his stomach swoops, losing the breath from his lungs yet again.

“You did not.” He breathes.

“I did.” Lance smirks.

“You had meetings with like 30 people!”

“And it was in the whole time. Reminding me of what I had to look forward to tonight.

“Oh my god.” Kethek sighs, his words bordering on a moan.

“This way, we don’t have to take so long preparing me this time. Though I did love that. But we can get to the really good stuff a bit quicker.”

Lance moved to kiss him again then, smiling into his lips.

“What are you waiting for,” he says lowly. “Take it out. It’s rude not to accept a gift.”

Kethek swallows but obliges, reaching behind Lance, over the swell of his bottom, feeling for something hard. He feels it and his breaths shutter, pulling it out slow and gentle.

He watches Lance’s face as he does, drinking in his every expression. Lance bites his lip, smiling as he tries to suppress a little squeak, his cheeks flushing.

When it’s out, Kethek tosses it blindly, his excitement peaking to the point where he didn’t even have the heart to tease him, lest he be driven to insanity himself.

He grabs Lance in a tight embrace and flips them over, pressing him into the mattress and kissing him deeply.

He feels Lance melt, his hands trailing up his arms and grabbing the sides of his face, pulling him closer and closer.

When they come up for air, Lance gasps, his eyes going wide and a smile lighting up his face.

“Oh, well look who it is!” He giggles. “I missed those ugly Keith ears.”

Keith blinks, looking over to peer at his arm, which indeed was fading to become the hue of his human form.

“You did it without even thinking, you’re so cute. You must just be like… super happy hm…?”

Keith smiles. He can’t help it. It feels so good to smile. To give his joy to Lance.

“It’s just something you do to me, I don’t understand it much myself.” Keith admits, holding Lance even closer.

“Maybe it’s when you get to fully realize how much I love you, Keith.” Lance responds, nuzzling their faces together in a way that makes Keith want to cry. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.

Keith’s eyes grow wet, his heart melting as he understands the double meaning of Lance’s words.

And he couldn't help but agree. He felt it like it was a truth written into the stars. Somehow, despite being from completely different worlds, light years apart, he’s been waiting for him all his life. Him and him alone. Lance. The prince. The Paladin. The altean. The love of his life. He can’t imagine anyone else. In any lifetime. In any universe. He will always have been waiting for Lance.

He kissed him again, trying to put every word of his feelings into it, not knowing how to speak the words in a way that will convey them in their entirety.

It felt significant. Being intimate with Lance in this form. Lance seems to think so too because he doesn’t take his eyes off him, the blue of them seeming to reach the deepest parts of his soul.

He doesn’t waste time. Doesn’t want to waste time. Every time he has Lance like this, in his arms and wanting, it’s a blessing. It’s a miracle. And he doesn’t want to wait any longer. He wants to give him what he deserves. He wants to love him in all the ways he possibly can, in every form he has. He wants to give him every facet of himself. Always.

So he moves, reluctantly pulling away from Lance's lips to take off his suit, all while Lance watches every movement he makes with hungry eyes. He’s looking at him that way he does, through his lashes, blinking slowly, and it lights a fire ablaze in his chest. He’s breathing heavy already by the time he’s bare and back on Lance's lips, Lance kissing him even more eagerly then before.

“It’s so weird.” He breathes into his mouth. “I’m so used to Kethek that I almost feel guilty kissing Keith. Like you’re different people or something.”

He laughs at his own statement, smiling. “And yet I can’t feel like I’m cheating, because it’s you, and everything you do is so you that it’s impossible to ignore.”

He giggles and Keith scoffs, kissing his neck.

“So me, huh?”

“Yeah.” Lance breathes, gasping as Keith takes his length into his hands.

“Your little concentrated pout. The intensity in your eyes. The way you touch me like I’m a flower petal despite looking like you are going to eat me.”

“I’m still going to eat you.” Keith said, his voice muffled from where he’s kissing Lance’s chest.

“You better. I’m counting on it.”

So Keith obliges, taking his length into his mouth and sucking. Lance lets out an audible gasp, his hands gripping the sheets and his head flying back into his pillow.

He brings lance right to the very edge, paying attention to his tremors and twitches. The way he gasps and how tightly his hands squeeze the blankets. And right when it’s about to be too much, he stops, pulls away and goes right back to his lips, breathing in Lance’s labored breaths.

“You’re a jerk.” Lance gasps.

Keith chuckles. “What, you don’t like to be teased?” He asks. You tease me all the time.”

“Is this some kind of revenge?” Lance pouts.

It was not. Far from it. Keith was trying to have fun. To let himself enjoy this. To enjoy Lance. He’d been extremely emotional last time, and any other time outside of Lance's bedroom he had to be completely serious. He wanted this to be happy. Fun. He wanted to give Lance that part of himself too, even if he didn’t give it to himself very often either.

“You can always ask nicely for me to continue.” He decides to say, loving the way Lances pout softens into a smirk.

“Ok. How about this.” He grins, sitting up a little to get closer to his face, trailing his long fingers down the sides of his face and yet again looking at him through his lashes.

“If you quit teasing me… I’ll give you another gift.”

“How many more do you even have?!”

“I actually meant to give it to you before we started all of this, but waiting very quickly became a non option. And now it’s great because I can use it as leverage.”

“We’ll both of your gifts have been pretty amazing, so I don’t think I have much of a choice here.”

Lance giggled again, raising his hand to Keith’s cheek.

“Well then get on with it.” He says, his voice deep and sensual.

Keith obliges, sliding back down his body and taking him into his mouth again with barely any preamble. Lance was already left sensitive and wanting so Keith’s lips back on him sent jolts of electricity through his whole body.

Lance literally whimpers at the sensation, mouth falling open in a wonton gasp. He will never admit to Keith that this was indeed better than a speed run to his finish. The waiting made everything feel twenty times more electric.

He can’t really help himself from gasping and shaking and can’t really make excuses for the fact that his orgazm hits him only moments after Keith started again. But when he comes back down to Earth and regains enough composure to look back down at him, Keith’s smile says it all. And god Lance loves it so much when he smiles. Even when it’s cocky as hell like it is now.

Lance scoffs, kicking Keith a bit with his feet where they rest, crossed behind his back.

“This proves nothing.” Lance says, his voice breathy, betraying him.

“So ungrateful.” Keith chides, that beautiful smile growing brighter as he continues to keep his promise of not teasing him and goes full steam ahead, capturing his lips once more and pressing himself against Lance, hesitating only momentarily to wait for Lance's affirmative nod before pushing in.

Lance had barely come down from his last orgasm, and admittedly, it takes everything in him not to pass out from overstimulation as Keith reaches the hilt, his warm hands soothing the chills that run down his arms and rooting him in reality.

He gasps, choking on his own breath as he breathes out a very pathetic and whispery “oh my god.”

He hadn’t forgotten how big Keith was. Far from it. But maybe he’d let himself believe that he’d be used to it the second time around. Or that maybe Keith was somehow smaller than Keithek, as if his dick shrunk like his ears did when he changed forms. (It does not, Lance checked.)

So for whatever reason, Lance is somehow still wildly surprised at the sensation, shaking and moaning without the sense to stop himself and find any kind of composure.

He realizes latently that Keith is shushing him, his fingers gliding through the sides of his hair.

“You make me worry about the soundproofing of this room.” He teases. “I’m going to have to test it one day to make sure you’re ok to scream like that.”

“I’m not screaming.” Lance pants, literally gasping for air as Keith shifts a bit and it tweaks all the right areas. He cries out again, literally unable to help himself and Keith chuckles.

“You’re not, huh?” He asks, shifting a bit again, giving the smallest, most gentle thrust he can.

Lance flounders, hands grasping for purchase on anything, the sheets, Keith’s shoulders, his own thighs.

“Tell me when.” Keith instructs, probably doing all he can to keep himself still to give Lance time to adjust.

The lack of prep probably also had to do with it, not necessarily that he was physically underprepared, because he wasn’t, Keith slid in with little resistance, just as he’d hoped, but more on the sensational end. Prep also helped Lance get used to being stimulated, so this, naturally, was a lot. But it was mind breakingly amazing, and Keith had barely moved.

“With another full body tremor and gasp, Lance nodded and gave Keith the ok.

“Go- move- please, god, oh my god, go.”

Keith does so, starting off still gentle with little thrusts in and out, coaxing more and more whimpers out of Lance.

He kisses him, holding him close and it’s so much in the best way.

“You’re going to kill me.” He breathes, and he feels Keith smile against his lips.

“If I can’t pick up the pace soon, you might kill me.” He countered.

“I told you you could go!” Lance argued back, still out of breath.

“I want you conscious, my prince.” Keith replied. “It’s no good if you pass out on me. I want to see your eyes. I want to hear you.”

Lance scoffed again, wanting to deny the assumption that he would pass out, but honestly he probably wasn’t wrong. Keith was perfect and his mind was so blissfully cloudy with pleasure that he probably would have if Keith hadn’t decided to start slow.

“Don’t call me prince.” He manages to breathe. That was so sexy, and if you keep doing that the only thing I’m ever going to be able to think about when you call me that from now on is going to be the memory of trying to keep myself from passing out on your dick.”

“Maybe that’s the idea, your highness.” Keith said, very much not being helpful at all.

Lance can’t even be embarrassed by the moan he lets out because honestly what else was he supposed to do with that.

“You little deviant. Who would of thought that my Keithek was so naughty.” He sighs, pouting at him. “If I get horny during a meeting or in the middle of the quiznacking hallway, it’s your fault.”

Keith responds by picking up his pace again, just a bit.

“Next time I’m fucking you so that you don’t get to be so smug.” Lance whimpers.

“I’d love that.” Keith replies, yet again only making the situation worse for him. As if he knows exactly just how to put him over the edge each and every time he gets used to the new level of sensation because suddenly fucking Keith is all he can think about and oh gods above he has plans for that. So, so many plans.

“Come back to me, sweetheart.” Keith’s gravely voice comes back to him, laying over him like a sheet of silk. He’d gotten lost in the pleasure again. And sweetheart?! Was he kidding with that?! It was like he was trying to kill him.

“You literally are pulling out all the stops.” Lance whines.

“You get what you ask for, my prince.” Keith replies. “ I’m trying to earn my reward.”

Keith picks up the pace again as he says it, and it’s fast enough now that it’s hard. It punches the breath out of him. It makes him see stars. So much so that he can’t even form the words to quip back at him like they usually do, because god Keith is thrusting in the most perfect way. Unrelenting and precise. He kisses his jugular and Lance’s head goes foggy with bliss

He knows Keith is still being careful. He knows his teeth get sharper like this, in the throes of passion. And that’s when Lance gets the idea.

He moans at the thought and at the literal overflow of pleasure Keith was giving him. Keith responds with another kiss and it does Lance in unable to get rid of the idea as it falls from his lips in a gasp.

“Mark me Keith.” Lance chokes, another thrust making him moan. “I want to be yours.” He says, out of breath. “Make me yours.”

It’s only then that Keith slows down, lifting his head from the crook of Lance’s neck to meet his gaze. He’s sweaty and blissed out and beautiful and it makes Lance’s gut twist even more.

He sees the confusion and the hesitation on his face and Lance just smiles in return, rolling his hips up into Keith, pushing him deeper and encouraging him to keep thrusting.

“If I can’t smell like you…” he whispers. “And if people can’t know I’m yours…” he said with another delicious roll of his hips that had him choking out yet another moan.

“I want to feel like I’m yours. And look like I’m yours. Even if it’s where nobody else can see. I want your touch stained on my skin. I want evidence of you under my clothes. Because only you exist there. And every time I look at myself. Even when you aren’t there… you’ll be with me. I’ll be yours. And nobody will know how much of my body has your touch on it. But I’ll see it. And I’ll feel like I belong to you. Even if I can’t publicly.”

Lance smirk grows as he sees the lust grow in Keith’s eyes, his jaw tightening as he sucks in a breath, only to let it out in one shaky breath.

He leans back in, resuming his thrusting so Lance doesn’t have to and Lance whimpers as Keith gives a tiny nip to his collar bone.

“You’re telling me…” he whispers. That you’re willing to forgo wearing half of the garments in your wardrobe, and cover your skin up so that people don’t see the bruises?”

His voice is sexy. Playful. And god he adores it when Keith lets this side of himself show. It’s so rare. Completely his to see and his alone.

Lance moans at another particularly deep thrust and grins.

“Within reason.” He smirks. “You know… to avoid suspicion. People are used to seeing my skin. So you’ll just have to be creative.”

“Mmm.” Keith says, a small smirk of his own growing on his lips. “Intriguing.”

And god his voice is so sexy. He’s so sexy. It makes his stomach do flips and they get stronger as Keith’s mouth trails deeper, nipping and sucking a path from his neck to his chest.

He begins his work just above his navel, nipping and sucking gently and still managing to thrust at the same time. Lance's stomach is in so many knots, his heart thrashing as the skin beneath his kiss turns purple.

Keith pulls back to admire it, running a thumb over the mark before moving on to his next and his next and oh my gods Lance has no idea how he’s still conscious. Probably because he’d hate himself if he missed this.

Keith goes then to kiss the inside of his thigh, and proceeds to leave a few marks there. He keeps his neck and shoulders bare, but he teases him there more than a few times, under his jaw, in the dip above his collar bone, at the highest point of his chest. By the end of it he’s littered with marks. His nipples, his stomach, his thighs, his hips. Even in the places he avoided leaving marks, he feels Keith everywhere. He feels covered in him and as Keith comes back to his lips, resuming his harder paced thrusting, Lance loses it, cumming with a loud, whimpering cry as he shakes and gasps and grabs onto Keith who reacts in kind and takes him in his hand to stroke him through it.

He latently realizes that Keith cums too slightly after, every nerve in his entire body seeming to have caught on fire.

Even after his high ends, he still feels high. Still feels like he’s never going to calm down again. Because that was perfect, that was perfect, that was, so, so, so, so-

Keith chuckles. Lance feels it against his chest where Keith lays on top of him, completely spent himself. And oh. He’s laughing because he’d been saying that out loud.

“I’m glad.” He sighs, out of breath.

“You’re so hot” Lance continues, his mouth babbling the first words that manage to come to his brain.

“You said that last time.” Keith smiles, looking up to prop his chin on Lance's chest.

“Because you are.”

Keith just keeps smiling, leaning his head back down after kissing Lance’s chest and encircling Lance's waist with his arms in a tight squeeze.

It's cute. It’s so quiznacking cute, It's literally unfair.

They stay like that for a while, catching their breath.

Lance plays with the soft strands of Keith’s long hair to keep himself from falling asleep and Keith just keeps hugging him, like if he let go, Lance would disappear.

He combs his nails against Keith’s scalp and feels him deflate, letting out a deep breath and cuddling into him even closer.

Lance thinks he might have fallen asleep after many more moments of deep slow breaths when Keith speaks up, muttering his words into Lance's stomach.

“I believe you owe me a gift.” He says.

Lance grins, his love somehow managing to grow with every single word he says.

“I do indeed.” Lance smiles. “You certainly earned it.” Keith finally lets go of his hug, sitting up to crawl over to him and flop down at his side, pulling him in for a kiss.

“If it’s another round, you’re going to have to ride me, because I might not be able to move.” Keith says sleepily.

Lance lets out a choked cough, Keith somehow managing to get him all worked up all over again just mere seconds after coming down.

*Mhm-* He clears his throat. “No that is not what the gift was but I’d very much appreciate circling back to that in a moment.”

Keith gives him a sleepy smirk, clearly amused, and Lance shoves a hand in his face, hiding his blush as he gets up, rushing over to his couch and reaching behind a pillow. He didn’t bother putting on pants or anything, Keith’s seen all he has to offer anyways.

From behind the cushion, he pulls out Keith’s bayard, and looks over to see Keith’s eyes widen.

He sits up too, looking much more awake than he had a moment ago,

“I snuck it back with me after training. I was too distracted by you being hot and at my disposal, so I forgot to give it to you right away. But I figure you can try it out here. I mean, you don’t really have any use for it that you can’t achieve from any other weapon until you have access to your lion, but I didn’t like you being the only one who didn’t get to try it out, it's unfair.”

Keith blinks at the bayard as Lance brings it over to him, sinking back down into the bed beside him.

“I also realize this might have killed the mood a bit, because it’s, you know, work and stuff, and talking about you not getting to use it before is a bummer, but I just… I wanted to give it to you. It’s yours and you deserve to have it just like everyone else.”

“Lance… are you sure nobody saw you take this?”

Lance chuckles. Yep, work Keith was back.

“I promise, my love. I was very sneaky, just like always. And if anyone still managed to, I can tell them I was feeling nostalgic for my father and wanted to see if I could connect to his bayard or something.”

Keith looks up to him, his eyes seemingly widening for a whole other reason now.

Lance assumes pretty quickly that it was because he’d called him my love. It kinda just happened naturally. Maybe a lot more frequently in his head, but he thought of Keith as his love all the time nonetheless.

“Don’t look so shocked, my love is the tip of the iceberg in terms of all the things I will call you. I have a whole list of interments going. My dear, my darling, my stars, baby, honey, love-“

“Lance.” Keith cuts him off, taking his hand. “This means a lot to me.” He says sincerely. “You're thinking of me, I mean. I really…. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Lance smiles. Loving that Keith is still so awkward when trying to clearly express his feelings. It’s clunky and cautious and so him. It’s perfect and he loves how hard he is trying to express it.

“You’re already a bayard expert because of our training so you’ll surely be a natural.” Next time you can come, we should spar. It’s big enough in here if we move some of the furniture around. But you aren’t allowed to be captivated by my sexiness during the sparring because we have to be focused.” He says playfully.

“That’s hard enough on the actual training deck.” Keith says playing along.

“Well we’ll be ten feet from a bed once the session is over, so in case of an emergency, we can take care of it.”

“That will be a relief.”

“It will, but because I currently have noodle legs thanks to your magic sexy powers, tonight, we’ll just have to cuddle. You know. If that’s cool with you. But actually, I was hoping for a quick shower before bed, if you want to join me. I’ll take another in the morning to be safe.

“You sure you can make it all the way there on your noodle legs?” Keith teases.

Lance humphs and swings his slender legs over the side of the bed, trying to prove a point.

He gets up, Keith following after him, there to steady him as soon as he inevitably stumbles.

It gives Lance another pang of deja vu, which he realizes is actually just a nunvil induced lost memory coming back to him suddenly as he falls into Keith’s chest. The words “big, strong, grumpy galra man” come to his brain as he remembers the sweltering heat of the castle spa and the slick foggy floors around the pools.

He smiles. Keith looks different in just about every way he could from that night. The most blatant being that he is not in his galran form. But Lance feels a familiarity in that fond smile. When then it had been battling against his scowl, now it shines, uninhibited on his face. It makes Lance warm.

He walks with Keith to the bathroom, stepping right into the shower, not bothering to strip as he was already bare, and Keith joins in behind him, stepping into the spray of water as Lance turns it on. That familiar humidity from his memory surrounds them yet again, and unable to help it, he leans in to embrace Keith, kissing him as water dampens his skin and makes the friction between them slick.

And yes, he’d love to have sex in here too, but he was supposed to just be here to actually get clean and ready for bed, so he pulls away reluctantly, moving Keith’s wet hair from his forehead.

Will you get me my dangellan scented soaps? Lance asks, gesturing to the bottles behind Keith.

Keith turns, his eyes scanning over the altean text before finding the one Lance referred to and grabbing it.

“Allow me.” He said then, taking Lance by surprise as he opened the bottle and poured the soap into his own hands.

Lance heart fluttered as he nods, eyes wide with excitement as he turns around.

He feels Keith’s hands then, combing the soap through either side of his hair, scrubbing gently, his fingernails massaging his scalp

He builds up a lather with gentle circular motions and Lance can’t help but close his eyes, feeling relaxed and calm under Keith’s ministrations.

He works his fingers into the lather probably for longer than was completely necessary, but Lance can’t complain. Not when he feels like he’s melting into a puddle in Keith’s hands.

Finally he tells Lance to turn back around so he’s under the spray and ruffles the soap from his hair until the water rinses clear. Lance watches him the whole time, his heart aching with affection so much it hurt.

“Ok, my turn.” He smiles, coming in close to Keith to reach around him and grab the soap that is provided in every bedroom of the castle. Lance had sprung for a bottle of it for Keith before their first night together so that he could wash up afterwards and not smell like Lance’s soaps, which he always hand picks himself.

He repeats what Keith had done for him, trying to be just as soothing and comforting as he was. He scrubbed his fingers behind his rounded ears, trailing a finger over the gentle curve. Perhaps they were growing on him.

The water and the soap makes Keith’s hair feel even longer than it looks. Especially because he usually ties it back into a braid and his bangs are left framing his face so that it can actually look like his hair is shorter than it is.

He smiles as yet another memory comes back to him. His own flustered frustration of Keith’s attractiveness making him think begrudgingly that he looked like he was someone who did not care for personal hygiene so it was annoying how pretty and soft his hair looked.

Running his fingers through it now, his heart aches even more with fondness, and a bit of overwhelmed awe at the fact that they made it here somehow.

It gets worse when Keith turns back around, leveling him again with that deeply loving expression in his eyes as he lets Lance comb the soap from his hair.

He steps closer, holding him around the waist and leans in putting his head on his shoulder as the water slides down their backs. It makes Lance swoon. His heart feeling too big for his chest.

Lance holds him back after his hair is officially clean, swaying with him back and forth.

Keith kisses his shoulder upon pulling away once more, and moves back to grab Lance’s soap for his body.

It makes Lance’s stomach twist with excitement before he can fully stomp the feeling down. If he got all turned on again it would be very inconvenient and he’d have to take yet another shower which would amount to eventually three showers by tomorrow morning and that felt like overkill even for Lance.

He looked down at himself, giving his dick a scowl as he willed it to stay flaccid. Keith turned around just in time to see his expression and the direction of his eyes and laughed that beautiful, unpracticed laugh.

“If you’re concerned, you can do yourself.” He smiled.

Lance shook his head. Very much not wanting Keith to let him do it on his own.

“I’m a pillar of strength.” Lance replies. “I’ll just channel the part of myself that used to think you were the worst most annoying person ever and I’ll be totally non horny.”

He doesn’t tell Keith that Hunk had insinuated that even when he’d hated him, he was probably still attracted to him. He keeps that to himself as Keith chuckles and relents, putting his hands on him.

He starts at his shoulders, rubbing circles. Then he trails down his arms, and back up to his chest. Gently caressing the marks he made there, washing each one clean with the soap. He trails down to his stomach scrubbing away the remainder of Lance’s mess, and then trails around to his back, stepping in closer to run hands along his spine and eventually down past his butt.

Lance’s breaths grow shaky almost immediately and Keith definitely feels it, grinning smugly.

“How’s my pillar of strength? You sure you don’t want to do the rest on your own?”

“You suck.” Lance quips back, trying to mean it.

Keith just takes it as his cue to keep going, sliding his hands around and in between Lance’s ass, actually seeming to have the full intention of getting him clean and not just trying to rile him up. Though he manages to do a bit of both.

“You think maybe you should do the front?” Keith says softly into his ear.

Lance looks down and pouts at the utter betrayal of his dick, already looking half hard and relents.

“Maybe I should.” He agrees. He tries to shake himself off as Keith dutifully pulls away, and Lance gets more soap, trying to quickly and painlessly scrub around the sensitivity, and down his legs, loving each mark he passes along the way.

Keith washes his hands of the remainder of Lance’s soap and grabs his own as Lance does his own skin, perhaps trying to be helpful and take care of himself so Lance doesn’t have the option to get turned on rubbing his hands all up and down Keith’s slick, glistening body, but as he watches him lather the soap up and down his abs, he all but fails miserably, because watching him do it was almost equally as sexy and gods, he’s only altean, he can’t for the life of him look away.

Keith wasn’t even trying to be sexy too, which annoys him even more. He is scrubbing dutifully, trying to be fast and thorough, and he’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t realize Lance was stock still and starting until he’s done and looks up to rinse off.

Of course, he’s fully and completely hard now, and all he wants to do is jump Keith’s bones, and Keith, though he genuinely hadn’t planned for it, seems unsurprised. Smiling and kissing him.

“This was a bad idea.” Lance says, all but whimpering as Keith’s lips meet his.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” Keith replies.

“And have to clean myself all over again?”

“We’ll just do it in here.” Keith says, like it’s obvious, squatting down without any preamble. It literally jumpstarts Lance’s heart and when Keith wraps a hand around him, bringing his lips close, the only thing that keeps him standing upright is how badly he wants it.

Keith looks up at him to confirm before taking him in his mouth. The full body shiver it sends down Lance’s spine is near orgasmic in of itself, but he honestly doesn’t have to wait long at all before it’s actually orgasmic.

It takes only a few minutes before he’s cumming into Keith’s mouth, and Keith swallows him down so that there’s no mess left over to clean up and oh my god what is Lance's life. Honestly, his third orgasm of the night, because of domestic showering with his bodyguard turned love of his life.

Lance is shaking, nearly completely spent, and Keith must see it because his hands never leave him. He holds him steady, turns off the stream of water, and helps Lance out of the shower before grabbing the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find, wrapping him inside it, ruffling up Lance's hair with it to dry, and Lance feels like he’s on a cloud. He feels blissful in a way that he struggles even to describe as Keith holds him tight and rubs him dry.

Not for the first time, Keith’s affections make him want to cry. The amount of love he feels triggering emotions deep in his chest that he’s not quite ready to face.

By the time he’s dry, and Keith towels off too, he’s back in his arms, feeling so safe and so loved. Like every threat he had faced or ever will face was trivial. Because he had this. And nothing could harm him when Keith was near.

Standing in Keith’s warmth makes his eyes wet and reluctantly, it’s what eventually prompts him to back away, kissing Keith’s cheek slowly in appreciation.

“I have to quickly brush my teeth.” He whispers to him. “I’ll meet you in bed?”

And then, unexpectedly, Keith blushes, looking almost… Sheepish.

Lance quirks a brow, his heart swooning at the adorable expression.

“I have something to admit.” Keith says softly. He laughs a bit at himself then, shaking his head. Hold on, I’ll show you.”

He moved away, out of Lance’s space and he mourns the loss only for a moment before curiosity takes over and he moves to the door of the bathroom to watch Keith crouch down onto the ground and pick up his under suit from where he’d ditched it to the floor.

He reaches into the pocket and, to Lance’s confusion, pulls out the toothbrush.

Lance blinks at it, as Keith walks back over.

Lance looks up to him, helplessly smiling at Keith’s expression.

“Is that your toothbrush?” He asked

Keith nods. “Yeah, uh. I brought it. With me. I hid it in my pocket on the way over because…”

He stops himself, shaking his head.

“God, it sounds stupid now. I just. I wanted to feel like… I wanted it to feel like we were meant to be here together. Like we do this every night. Get ready for bed together and- I don’t know, I felt like if I had something of mine here, it would accomplish that. It would feel less like I’m breaking rules to be with you and more like I’m supposed to be with you.”

“So you brought your toothbrush.” Lance confirms. “So that you could get ready for bed with me and have something of yours in my bedroom.”

Keith nods, and god damnit. God quiznacking damnit! Of all the things Keith has done tonight, that’s what makes him cry?!

“What the quiznack Keith!” He yells, his voice cracking with his sudden and unrelenting tears. “That is the cutest and sweetest thing ever, oh my gods!!!!! This is so unfair!!!! I was doing so well at not crying!!!!!”

He sniffs and chokes out a sob as his eyes cloud so much with tears that he has to squeeze them shut to clear his vision and he’s laughing softly, all the while, completely overwhelmed with Keith and everything he is and all the ways he loves him.

He can’t help himself but to kiss him, hugging him close as he drinks in Keith’s blush and sheepish smile.

“You are literally the sweetest thing to exist, you know that?! My gods, yes! Let’s brush our teeth together! I want that too!!! This is so perfect, why am I crying so much!”

He’s grinning wildly as he pulls Keith to the sink, sharing his toothpaste with him and still crying and laughing as Keith takes it, letting himself laugh too.

They brush their teeth. Like a couple. Like they live together. Like they belong here. Wrapped in fluffy towels, damp from their shower and ready to spend the night together.

Had Keith been any other person, they could have had this right now if they wanted to. Lance could do this with him and it wouldn’t be a spectacle. It wouldn’t have made him cry. It could have been real and normal and perfect.

But it’s not. And he knows that it probably won’t be for a while. This is special and precious and rare, despite doing their best to pretend it’s not, and it makes him endlessly happy while at the same time making him feel sad and longing for their circumstance being so unfair. So unfair that this feels more beautiful and precious than it should.

Standing beside him, brushing his teeth, his title is gone. Their dynamic is unhindered by anything. They are equal. Keith isn’t his guard, he’s not here because he was hired. He’s here because he loves Lance. And Lance loves him. And that’s it. That’s all it is. That’s all that Lance longs for it to be. It’s perfect and special and wonderful and when they’re done and they rest them side by side on the sink maybe it’s dumb, but he cries some more. Harder as Keith scoops him up into his arms, kissing his nose and carrying him to bed, crawling in beside him to hold him close. Feeling absolutely like he was meant to be there and would always be there. That nothing would stand in the way of them being together at all.

Lance clings to that feeling with his whole heart, cuddling in close to Keith’s chest. Breathing him in. Listening to him breathe, to the way his heart beats. It lulls him to sleep. Cradled in his warmth and love and feeling safe. So safe.

So wonderfully safe in the arms of his love.

The sound rings out through the room. Three hard knocks.

Keith is so drowsy when he hears it the first time that he barely wakes up. The second time though, his heart all but lurches to fly out his mouth and he gasps, sitting up with a start, nerves churning his stomach.

But Lance was there soothing him before his irrational thoughts could kick into full gear.

“Shhhh. He soothed, running a hand up his torso and over his chest, as if he was physically trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

He rubs his own sleep from his eyes and kisses his neck, then his cheek, bringing his other hand to run through his hair. “It’s ok, Kethek.” It’s ok. I’ll go and see who it is. You stay right here. Nobody will see you.”

Kethek’s heart is still pounding, wanting to protest, but Lance is already moving, reluctant but delicate, turning to drape his long legs over the edge of the bed and stand, bending beautifully to cover himself in the robe he’d discarded at the start of the night.

He moves then to go answer the door then when Kethek speaks up.

“You’re not going to put on underwear?” He asks almost offendedly.

Lance chuckles, deep and playful. “I’m plenty covered! Look at you, being all possessive.”

“I’m not- it’s not- I just…. If it’s anyone important you shouldn’t address them in just a robe should you? Especially with all the… evidence on your skin….”

Lance laughs again looking down at himself to admire the marks that Kethek had left there, his smile beautiful and bright. “You should know well from our little exchange in the spa that it’s not completely out of character for me to walk around in just a robe.” He teases. “But if it makes you feel better I’ll put them on for you.”

Still smiling, he bends over once more and steps into his underwear slowly, hiking up the back of his robe so that Kethek can watch them slide on. He smirks over his shoulder and Kethek’s stomach swoops. Lance let’s the robe fall back down and turns back to him.

“Better?” He grins, leaning in over the bed. Keith opens his mouth to answer, unsure of what to say or even if he had the voice to say it, his heart fluttering. He doesn’t have to say anything though, as only moments later, Lance leaned over once more to kiss him slowly, a hand coming to caress the underside of his chin.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises.

The nerves are still wild under his chest but Lance's sweet, gentle touches help enough to let him go. They’d discussed this before. This is what he had to do. Answer the door as if everything was normal.

Lance moves then through the silky curtain around his bed frame and out of his view.

And even though he knows it’s safe, Lance glances over his shoulder once more, just to check that Kethek was, in fact, not visible.

Once he’s good and sure, he walks quietly to the door, smoothing out his sex hair and trying to appear unassuming.

He opens it with a pit in his stomach and is surprised to see Shiro.

Lance quirks a brow, looking up to him in surprise.

Beside him, the two guards that stand post outside his door also face him, bowing. Shiro glances at them before realizing he should follow suit and bows too.

“The Black Paladin insisted he meet with you right away, your highness.” One of the guards said after straightening out. “We apologize for disturbing you at such a late hour.”

Lance bites back the surprise and composes himself, concern for Shiro bubbling up.

“Nonsense.” He replies gently. “I did tell him he could come to me any time.”

He looks then to Shiro, brows drawing together.

“Is everything alright, Shiro?”

Shiro swallows. There’s a sort of sadness and worry in his eyes that sinks Lance’s heart.

“If we could talk in private, your highness.”

“Of course.” Lance replies. Allow me one moment to collect myself and I will walk with you to one of the delegation rooms.

“My prince, do you wish us to call for Kethek to escort you?” The other guard asks.

A pang of nervousness he hopes they can’t see strikes him in the gut as he quickly replies “no.”

“No need to wake him.” Lance says as easily as he could. “The Royal guard is plenty enough supervision for now.”

“Just allow me one moment to put on some slippers. He says then, giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile to Shiro, and causing the door.

As quickly as he can he moves back to his bed and over to Kethek who still sits upright and alert, his glowing gold eyes narrowed.

“It was Shiro. He wishes to speak with me about something. He seemed distressed. It’s likely whatever had caused him to want to leave Altea that’s still bothering him.”

“Shiro?” Kethek said, his demeanor softening a bit.

Lance nods and leans down to kiss Kethek’s cheek. “I’m sorry to leave you with how little time we get to spend together like this.” He says softly. “But I feel I need to assist him in any way I can. Especially as the black Paladin. I’d like to assure him. Offer my support.”

“I shouldn’t be long, please, stay until I return, my love. Get some rest. I’ll join you when this is all finished.”

Kethek wanted to tell him he should come. He felt like he should protest despite knowing that it was unnecessary. Firstly, it would be impossible to leave Lance’s room without suspicion. Secondly, it was Shiro, and Shiro was possibly the person Kethek had trusted the most for the longest time in this universe.

But still there was a gnawing in his stomach that felt wrong letting Lance leave like this alone.

In the daze of his thoughts, he’s brought back to reality by the pad of Lance’s thumb rubbing gently between his brows. Smoothing out the crease that had no doubt began to form there.

“No need for that look, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I’ll only be a moment.”

Kethek swallowed, but eventually nodded.

“If I fall back asleep, please wake me when you return.” He tells him.

“Of course, darling.” Lance smiles, brushing aside his bangs to kiss his forehead. “Be right back.” And just like that, Lance was leaving once again.

He had no doubt he’d be able to calm Shiro of whatever was ailing him. Lance had always been good at that. Slippers on, he opens his bedroom door once again and steps out, smiling up at Shiro.

“If you’ll follow me.” He tells him.

They walk in silence. Not something that was totally unexpected. He may be his lover's closest companion, but Lance still didn’t know him well. At least not well enough for idle chatter.

Lance steps to one of the conference rooms and opens the door for Shiro. Shiro looks at him with an expression Lance has difficulty reading. Maybe surprise? Maybe nervousness?

Nonetheless he thanks him softly as he enters, Lance trailing in behind him as the guards took their post outside. They sat at the table, Lance at the head and Shiro at the one Lance points him to, directly next to him.

When Shiro sits, Lance took a moment to truly analyze him.

He’s younger than he looks at first glance. Probably around Allura’s age. But there’s a weariness in his eyes that ages his soul. A mark that he had been through too much for someone so young in their years. Much like Kethek himself. But still he looks kind. And strong. Very strong. Very capable.