#I wonder if Lotor would like Star Wars or Star Trek better

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Can you please have Lotor and the paladins watch Into the Spiderverse and/or Star Wars? I'd love to hear his reactions to Earth's theories of multiple dimensions and space travel before it was known to be possible. (As well as the "I am your father" plot twist!)

Movie Time With TSLLotor – Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) Edition

“No.” Lotor’s slit eyes widened as he stared at the screen.His jaw dropped slightly. And then he raised his hand to the holographicinterface to pause Star Wars: EmpireStrikes Back. “No, that is not possible.”

Pidge sat next to him. She pushed her finger against his jawto click his fangs shut. “It totally is.”

Lotor blinked. “Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father?” he askedincredulously. “The hero is the son of the villain?”

“Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?”

The prince’s elfin ears pulled back, his face tight in a mixof delight and validation. “The hero is the sonof the villain. They both use this…same force that flows through all, butyet Skywalker uses it for good.”

“Yeah, cause he’s still the good guy,” Pidge said with ashrug. “Doesn’t matter where he came from.”

To Lotor’s left, one Princess Allura still sat in horror,her hands covering her mouth, her beautiful eyes wide. “Ngh,” she squeaked,still staring at Luke’s missing hand. “Keith, you didn’t tell me there wasgoing to be dismemberment.”  

On the floor, one Keith lay on his side, delightedlymunching on popcorn. “It’s not like it shows much. I mean, this was the 1980s. Specialeffects were still kinda bad.”

Allura looked down and lightly nudged Keith with her foot indisapproval. “But I like Luke,” shewhined. “And his own father just cut off his hand—that is so cruel andterrible.”

“…It’s awesome,” Keith argued.

“It’s terrible,” she retorted right back, her white browsknitting together. “Honestly, Keith, where is your sense of empathy?”

His lips stretched as he turned to stare up at her. “Takinga nap.”

“Obviously.” And then she tossed some popcorn at him, whichhe jerked to the side and caught it with his mouth.

Allura’s elfin ears flicked in interest of his reflexes, andso she did it again, tossing a popcorn kernel at him, which he caught onceagain in his mouth, crunching down on the popcorn in satisfaction. His eyesglinted merrily.

That managed to garner the attention of Kosmo, who ploddedover to sniff Keith’s face. Then he licked the boy’s mouth in interest of thepopcorn salt. Keith sputtered out a noise between a laugh and a gag as heraised up his hand to gently push Kosmo’s muzzle away. The space wolf lickedhis cheek in response, wagging his tail.

Allura giggled at the sight and turned to Lotor.

The man was still puzzling over the movie’s various aspects,murmuring to Pidge in awe and surprise, “—Particularly advanced for a culturehaving traveled off-planet only several decaphoebs before, capturing not onlythe power but also the mundane quality of space travel. It is so very rare forcivilizations not to worship or otherwise present space travel as a means of obtaininggodhood.”

The girl shrugged. “I mean, our rocket that got us to themoon, the Saturn V, was said to be made of parts from the lowest bidder, andeven the astronauts got tired of talking about the moon after a couple ofdecades. As a species, I’d say we get bored pretty easily. The new wears offfast, you know?”

Lotor raised his hand to point at her. “That is preciselywhat I mean. Contextualization of advancement. Most early civilizations likeyour own would worship space travel in a spiritual sense, and yet even yourlanguage about real events—like your Saturn V and first trip to Earth’s moon—delegatessuch to the realm of the everyday. The exponential learning curve of humans,and your emotional response as a species, is quite fascinating.”

“You saying we’re freaks or something?”

“Just…strangely aware. Even the concept of the Force is surprisingto me. It is rudimentary in description,” Lotor continued, brows knitted togetherin thoughtfulness, “but particularly reminiscent of quintessence—down to itsability to be manipulated by people of all moral alignments. Tell me, does this…StarWars represent humanity’s reigning philosophy of the essence of life?”

Pidge pushed up her glasses in pride. “Actually, the ideabehind the Force is very old. Even early humans believed there was somethingthat tied all living beings together. The names for it changed—ancient humanscalled it the fifth element. Medieval scholars even called it quintessence fora time.”

Lotor’s head tilted in interest. “And what do humans call itnow?”

“Our most equivalent theory would be dark matter—but westill can’t really do anything with it like you or Allura can.”

The prince looked down at his own fingers and allowed themto spark to life with a slight glow of purple. “Dark matter seems to suggest apeculiar obscurity, but it is quite visible to me.”  

Pidge dared to grab onto one of his hands, inspecting theglow his fingertips with a scientific curiosity. “They say dark matter is acollection of stars that haven’t ignited or they’ve already exploded, leaving pocketsof energy across the universe. Somehow, you and Allura tap into that unignitedenergy and manifest it for yourself.” Her thin brows furrowed. “But the energyisn’t hot like a star, and I’m not sure how you…channel it.”

Lotor’s voice lifted in delight of a lecture, his eyesbright and face glowing with the awe of human entertainment, which allowed forsons of villains to be heroes. “It is all a matter of being attuned tosurrounding frequencies. But your movie would suggest that quintessencemanifests itself on a spectrum aligned to some moral perception. Blue for good.Red for evil. In truth, the color depends on the frequency or concentration ofthe energy.” He turned to Allura, who was watching them with great curiosity. “Princess,can you help me demonstrate this?”

“Of course,” she murmured happily. She snapped her fingers,and within her palm manifested a glowing light, the same color as Lotor’s. “Purpleis of a high concentration and frequency—only trained alchemists or those withinnate ability can manifest such. There is no moral alignment for it, although Galran-minedquintessence takes on this spectrum per the attempts to gatherless-concentrated quintessence into something more.” Her hand turned, and theglow suddenly turned red. “This color, as I’m sure you know, Pidge, has a lower,more enduring frequency and so is found most readily in planets.” Then Allura’s hand twitched as she narrowed her eyes. The color of her fingertipsbegan to glow blue. “This is of a similar frequency. And the highest frequencyappears as pure black, which is the totality of all quintessence spectrumsabsorbed within the power itself.” Her full lips twitched in a sad way as theglow died about her fingertips. “But I will not show you here, for I do notwish to draw attention from those who would sense its power.”

Her words were a thinly veiled reference to the witch Haggar.

Her eyes flickered to Lotor’s, and he searched her.

Pidge cut between them. “Wait, wait,” she said, narrowingher eyes. “Pure quintessence is black?” Her lips stretched. “As in, dark matter?”

Lotor did not look away from Allura, his voice distant evenas he managed a twitch of his lips. “Perhaps human theories are not so far fromthe truth, then.” The glow died from his hands as well. “Though I will admit, Ihave never been able to attempt such a concentration.”

“Perhaps one day,” Allura murmured softly, “I could show youhow to achieve manifesting black quintessence.”

The prince smiled at her, his eyes glimmering. “I would lovefor you to show me the darkness, princess.” And then his smile stretchedfarther. “As long as it does not require becoming a Sith lord.”

Keith raised his hand. “Siths are cooler than Jedi, just saying.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “No way. The Jedi are so much moreawesome. Also, they have green light sabers.”

“And Siths have red,” Keith argued lightly. “Why do you thinkI like them?”  

Allura giggled. Then she turned to Lotor and murmured, “I donot believe you will have to become a Sith lord to achieve mastery ofquintessence.”

“Then what must I become, princess?”

“My padawan,” she giggled, reaching up to pat his head.

Lotor’s face-faulted, then huffed in a mix of misery andgreat amusement. Here he was, ten-thousand years old and still an apprentice. “Oneday,” he said, voice straining, “I hope to become your equal.”  

The words inspired a bloom of a blush upon Allura’s face asher fingers slipped from his hair, which was soft against her skin. “I would verymuch like that.”  

He smoothed down his hair where she had displaced it. “And ifyou were to teach me, I would assure you that I would use such knowledge responsiblyas well, even though I am the son of your enemy.” He tilted his chin to the moviescreen. “None of this dark-side domination.”  

She lightly grabbed onto his hand and squeezed his largepalm. “You are not your parents, as I am not mine.”

His long, clawed fingers squeeze against her own to reciprocatethe touch. His sharp cheeks flushed in a manner similar to Allura’s—an awe atbeing near a kindred spirit.

“…Hey, can you guys stop flirting,” Keith cut in with a deadpan,“so can we finish the movie?”

[keihtkogane-blog]

make you feel (at ease)

chapter 1/? posted!

warnings: none rated: teen tags: accidental baby acquisition, canon divergence, post-season 2 (ish), pining, broganes, angst and fluff

notes: huge shoutout to miranda and keith who both beta’d this for me <3

read on ao3 or click “read more”

Keith wakes up feeling like he hasn’t slept at all. This in itself isn’t unusual, but the thundering bang bang bang coming from his door is. Keith groans and grumbles as he drags himself out of bed and stumbles blearily over to the door. He quickly unlocks it with the panel on the right and the door opens to reveal an annoyed–and, judging by the bags under his eyes, exhausted–Shiro.

“You’re up?” Keith asks, confused. He’s always the first one up and out of bed, with the occasional exception of Pidge (spending a sleepless night working on something) or Allura (getting a head start on the day’s schedule). But Shiro– Shiro’s usually third. Right behind Allura, who usually wakes sometime after Keith, and before Coran, Hunk, and Lance, who all tend to arrive at the same time like they have some kind of pre-breakfast meeting place.

“You’re not?” Shiro tilts his head in confusion.

“No…?”

“You missed breakfast,” Shiro says, eyeing Keith with concern.

“Oh,” Keith internally winces, knowing that his protective older brother is about to make an appearance.

“You never miss breakfast unless you’re already training,” Shiro looks him over in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Keith responds too quickly.

“Keith,” Shiro sighs. “What’s going on?”

“Shiro,” Keith parrots back with a little more bite than the situation probably calls for, “Nothing’s going on.”

“You’re lying to me,” Shiro crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, Keith.”

Keith sighs and childishly bangs his head twice on the wall next to the door in frustration, “I just haven’t been sleeping well, ok?”

Shiro stares at him and then sighs before turning to look at Pidge, who is coming down the hall towards them. “Fine.”

Pidge joins them at Keith’s door then, cutting Shiro’s imminent lecture short, and Keith silently makes a promise to find her some cool new tech junk at whichever planet they land on next.

“What’s goin’ on?” Pidge asks, fiddling with some kind of tablet in her hands.

“Nothing,” Keith says. “I was just about to grab a snack. You already ate?” He asks Pidge while stalking past Shiro still lingering in the doorway.

“Yeah,” Pidge responds, “But I’ll hang out in there with you for a while. I’m just waiting on this software I made to install itself.”

“Cool,” Keith glances back at Shiro, who gives him a frustrated look that Keith recognizes from years of him being Keith’s guardian. Keith gives him a mock salute and smirk designed to further annoy him and continues down the hall towards the dining room, while Pidge rambles about her newest updates to the outdated Altean tablet.

When they arrive at the dining room, they find Lance and Hunk seated at the table and engaged in some sort of discussion about movies. Lance, having heard the door open, turns, barely spares a glance for Keith, and yells at Pidge.

“Pidge! My best friend, coolest dude, homeslice, tech guru–”

“Get to the point, Lance,” Pidge sighs, but Keith can see the fond smile she’s trying to hide with an eyeroll.

“Which is better: Star Wars or Star Trek?” Lance asks, practically vibrating in his seat. Keith wonders if Hunk has found some kind of space coffee and forgot to inform Keith, or if Lance is just that hyped about the conversation.

“Star Trek,” Pidge responds without hesitation. Lance’s mouth drops open and he lets out an almost inhuman shriek.

“I cannot believe! Pidge! You were supposed to be on my side!”

“Sorry,” Pidge takes a seat next to Hunk and diagonal from Lance, who is seated at the other side of the table. “I only speak the truth.”

Lance makes another strangled, garbling kind of noise and turns to Keith in desperation. “Keith! My man! You agree with me, right?”

Keith huffs and turns his head to the right to avoid looking at Lance, selfishly afraid that Lance will be able to read on his face that Keith, in fact, does agree with him, which will end with Lance never leaving it alone. “Uh,” Keith fidgets. “I think Star Trek’s better.”

“Abominations! All of you!” Lance huffs, crosses his arms, and purses his lips. “If Allura and Coran had seen both series, somehow I can guarantee they’d agree with me. You know why?” Lance asks, pausing for dramatic effect. “Because they are not heathens!”

Keith scoffs again and finally heads to the table in order to–reluctantly, of course–sit next to Lance, “No way they’d agree with you.”

“Um, yes, the Princess would definitely agree with me.”

Keith just rolls his eyes and turns to Hunk, “I’m assuming you already asked Shiro?” At Hunk’s confirming nod he continues, “What’d he say?”

Lance glares at nothing in particular while Hunk smirks, “He didn’t. Claimed that they were both his favorite series and refused to pick one.”

“Which is basically him saying Star Wars is better,” Lance huffs.

“In what universe?!” Pidge shouts, now invested in the argument.

“Whichever one we’re in right now!” Lance yells indignantly back.

Keith, against his own logic, finds himself getting invested in the argument too and resigns himself to a morning without food as he defends Pidge and Hunk. Keith gets a weird kind of joy out of arguing with Lance, which he will never ever tell anyone ever, and secretly delights in the way Lance gets progressively louder when Keith lists all the bad things about Star Wars (things that are all lies because Star Wars is the best and Keith is dying a little on the inside at having to pretend he hates it).

Ten minutes into the argument, Keith catches Hunk’s eye. Hunk raises his eyebrows and nods towards Lance in a way that says, “Are you actually going to let him think you don’t love Star Wars?” Keith flushes and regrets the conversation that he’d had with Hunk only days prior about this very subject, the only difference being that the argument was just between him, Hunk, and Shiro. Keith shrugs and looks away in embarrassment.

Unknown to him, Pidge has noticed the entire silent conversation and has one of her own with Hunk while Lance and Keith are arguing about the coolness of Star Trek’s spaceships.

“What?” Pidge’s face asks.

“Tell you later,” is the response Hunk’s half-smile gives.

“Is it about them?” Pidge gestures subtly towards the paladins still arguing obliviously across from them, to which Hunk only raises his eyebrows and smirks in response.

A minute later, Hunk and Pidge rejoin the argument, both with knowing grins on their faces.

The conversation continues for another half an hour or so, thankfully drifting to other series in the meantime. Keith was seriously going to cry if he’d had to hate on Star Wars much longer. Eventually, Shiro heads into the room with Allura and Coran close behind him.

“Are you all ready?” Shiro stops at the head of the table and looks around at the seated Paladins.

“Sure thing,” Hunk smiles and follows the three leaders back out of the room with Lance, Pidge, and Keith in tow.

“Ok team,” Shiro says once they’ve arrived in the training room. “I’ve discussed it with Allura and Coran, and we’ve agreed that today we will all focus on both long-range and short-range combat techniques.”

“What?!” Lance shrieks. “But-”

“No buts, Lance,” Allura says sternly. “We’ve all agreed that we can’t afford to have everyone trained in one type of combat and be incapable of succeeding with the other.”

Lance sighs, defeated, and gestures for Shiro to continue.

“I know you’re all better trained for whichever type of combat your bayard is best suited to,” Shiro softens his tone, “But we need to be prepared for the worst. Lotor isn’t going to pause a battle so that we can rotate who is where to better suit our talents.”

All the Paladins, including Keith, huff in a combination of half displeasure at having to train in a type of combat they aren’t used to or comfortable with and half acknowledgement because they know that Shiro, Allura, and Coran are right.

“So how do we do this?” Pidge asks.

“I’m glad you asked, number five!” Coran steps forward. “We’ve decided that the most efficient way to train you in the opposite form of combat, aside from just throwing you into battle of course, is to pair two Paladins up who have experience in different areas and go from there!”

“And,” Allura starts before anyone springs into action, “We’ve already decided on the pairings,” She smiles, oblivious to the defeated drop of everyone’s shoulders.

Please pair me up with Hunk, please pair me up with Hunk, please pair me up with Hunk, Keith tries to project his thoughts to Shiro through some kind of telepathy. Maybe his part-Galra brain can connect with Shiro’s arm?

“But wait,” Hunk says, interrupting Keith’s silent pleading to Shiro. “There isn’t an even number of us.”

“I’ll be sitting out today,” Shiro says and, almost subconsciously, rubs his shoulder, where he had sustained a pretty bad injury during their last battle with Lotor and his generals. Shiro’s arm had been cut so deep you could see bone, and while the healing pod could fix a lot of things, apparently soreness wasn’t one of them. Everyone accepts that excuse without comment, knowing Shiro’s more than deserved his day of rest.

“Shall we begin?” Allura asks after a moment of awkward silence where everyone was remembering Shiro’s injury in graphic detail.

Shiro takes a deep breath and nods while Keith starts up a different internal monologue slash hopefully-telepathically-communicating-with-Shiro chant. Please don’t put me with Lance, please don’t put me with Lance, please please please don’t put me with Lance.

“–will be Keith and Lance and then Hunk and Pidge. Pidge, I know your bayard is technically either long-range or short-range, so I figured that you could practice a bit of both,” Shiro continues, oblivious to the look of utter betrayal that Keith shoots him.

It’s not that Keith doesn’t want to work with Lance, per se, it’s just that things have been…. Strained between them recently.

A month ago, hell even just a few weeks ago, things were great. He and Lance were getting along better than ever before and even hung out together a few times, just the two of them. But then– then Keith had realized that these warm and tingly feelings that he had for Lance? The feelings that he thought were mild dislike and annoyance combined with reluctant fondness? Those only started to get worse, at which point Pidge confidently barged in on Keith in his room sometime in the middle of the night and informed Keith that he was in love with Lance.

Keith understandably, in his opinion, panicked. Which resulted in avoiding Lance, making this entire situation kind of his fault. Avoiding Lance then turned into Lance confronting him about why Keith was avoiding him. Which resulted in Keith panicking again and shouting at Lance. Which resulted in an even worse dynamic between them that didn’t even compare to when they first formed Voltron. These days, they can barely go five minutes without yelling at each other for some stupid or petty reason.

Yeah, Keith will admit this is his fault.

He stops reminiscing, reminding himself to focus on training and hopefully not fight with Lance, and catches the tail end of Lance’s also betrayed look that he shot at Shiro. Keith resists the urge to groan.

“So, how are we supposed to do this?” Keith asks with enough bite in his tone that Hunk flinches slightly and gives Lance a worried glance.

“You will decide on a training regimen on your own,” Allura starts. “We trust you to take into account your partner’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as your own methods of combat, and use them to develop an effective training strategy. Provided there are no sudden attacks, we will be continuing with these exercises all week,” Allura pauses, waiting for everyone around her to nod. “You will also need to develop a training schedule between the two of you. The times and frequency of the exercises will be up to you.”

“I’ll be in the control room with Allura and Coran if anyone needs me,” Shiro says. He gives Hunk and Pidge a short wave and shoots a stern look at both Lance and Keith before continuing out the door. Allura follows, and then they’re alone with Hunk and Pidge.

“So, should we, like, work on the schedule altogether?” Hunk asks. “You know, so we don’t get in each other’s way?”

“Sure,” Keith shrugs.

“Why don’t we each choose a day and time block and then go from there?” Pidge says, “We can take turns until all the days and slots are filled.”

Keith nods and takes a seat on the floor, the other three Paladins following him only seconds later.

------

In the end, they decide that Keith and Lance will train Monday, Tuesday morning, Wednesday, Thursday afternoon, and Friday morning. Then they’ll train with all the paladins and the droids together on Saturday, so they can practice fighting against a larger group.

That being decided, the rest of the afternoon is spent coming up with their individual plans. Keith didn’t think this part would be very hard, honestly, but he clearly underestimated Lance’s ability to annoy him in any given situation.

“Lance!” Keith growls after Lance’s third time singing “Under the Sea” from the Little Mermaid.

“What?” Lance responds, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Keith can’t concentrate when he won’t shut up.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You shut the fuck up, mullet.” Lance glares.

“Guys,” Hunk sighs, “Can we please not do this right now?”

“Sorry buddy, but Keith started it.”

“You were singing!” Keith snaps back.

“Oh, so you’re jealous of my singing skills?” Lance’s grin is practically the definition of smug. “I knew it! You’re just jealous of my amazing skills, aren’t you?”

“No,” Keith grits his teeth in frustration.

“Yeeeeeessss!”

“No, I’m really fucking not.”

“Yes, you really fucking are.”

“Guys!” Pidge interrupts them this time, “Both of you shut up.”

“He started it,” Both Lance and Keith mumble at the same time, but they reluctantly turn back to their individual plans in silence.

-------

The next week is absolute hell. Absolute, total, complete shit.

Monday is Keith’s day to train Lance, and he can already tell it’s going to be a disaster. Two minutes in, and Keith has barely been able to speak a full sentence, let alone start training Lance.

“–So if you think for one second that you can beat me, mullet, you’ve got another thing coming. I refuse–refuse!–to leave here with you thinking–”

“Lance!” Keith shouts with a glare. “Can we please just start training? I’m really not in the mood to be lectured by Shiro because you won’t cooperate.”

Lance huffs and looks away from Keith, frowning at the opposite wall with his lips pursed. Keith simply watches him pout for a moment. He’s definitely not admiring Lance’s bone structure and the slope of his nose and–no,stop that. He flushes, grateful that Lance is still looking at the wall, and drops his head to stare at his own shoes.

“Fine,” Lance finally says as he turns back to Keith, who looks up. Lance isn’t pouting anymore, but Keith is having trouble identifying the expression on his face. Keith had thought he would be able to recognize all of Lance’s many facial ticks and their meanings by now, but he has absolutely no clue what Lance’s face is doing right now. Lance’s face is almost carefully blank, his mouth in a straight line and eyes without their usual glint. It’s almost a mix of his I’m disappointed and My feelings are hurt and I’m trying not to show it expressions, but Keith can also see a hint of his Hate Keith and Battle Mode faces thrown in as well. It’s weird, Keith thinks, to see Lance without a hint of expression at all, his usual easy-to-read ticks nowhere to be found and instead replaced with this strange mask.

“Well,” Keith clears his throat, “I was thinking maybe we could start with some hand-to-hand combat, see where you need work, then go from there.”

“Okay,” Lance says, almost without inflection, and Keith is suddenly struck with the inexplicable urge to ask him what’s wrong. But Lance is already heading towards the center of the room and taking up a–totally incorrect–battle stance, so he decides that asking Lance what happened can wait until later.

The training itself goes surprisingly well after that. Lance doesn’t argue against Keith’s direction and Keith finds that Lance is an incredibly fast learner when he’s actually trying. By the end of the day, it even takes Keith ten minutes to beat Lance, which is a vast improvement from the solid forty-five seconds it took in the morning.

So, it should have been fine. It is fine, Keith tells himself. Lance was just… focusing. Lance was focusing and that was why he barely talked, why he didn’t taunt or smirk at Keith once, why he didn’t brag about his skills, and why he didn’t say anything to Keith when they were done and instead gave him a slight nod before leaving the room.

Keith’s going to bring it up. Really! It’s just that the next morning Lance walks into the room and is back to his normal, obnoxious self. So Keith drops it.

That day, Lance starts to teach Keith the finer aspects of using a long-range weapon. He teaches Keith breathing techniques, helps him decide which eye is his dominant, and shows him the correct way to aim. By that afternoon, Keith is marginally surprised at how fast he’s managed to pick up on how to use Lance’s bayard. While he’ll definitely admit–to himself, at least–that he isn’t picking up on it nearly as fast as Lance had picked up on hand-to-hand combat, he’s learning a lot more than he ever had during his time at the Garrison. He now manages to hit the target nearly every time, even though he has yet to hit the center.

There was no resurgence of Lance’s weird behavior from Monday, and the day is spent with Lance mocking him before suddenly turning serious and being incredibly patient. He also, of course, makes time to boast about his own skills and shows off.

The rest of the week continues much the same way; Lance is his usual self, Keith snaps at him in response, they fight, but somehow they manage to work through it and continue training. After the group demonstration on Friday, even Shiro and Allura are impressed with how much Lance and Keith have improved.

“I knew you’d make a great pair!” is Coran’s response to their demonstration.

“Good job, Paladins!” Allura says with a grin.

Shiro smiles softly and says, “Good job, guys.”

All in all, Keith thinks that the week has gone fairly well. Certainly better than he’d expected. Maybe he and Lance have finally moved past this weird funk they’ve been in for the past month.

Then Lance starts acting the same way Keith himself had been before they’d spent a week training together. He avoids Keith whenever possible, mocks him whenever they’re in the same room together for more than five minutes, and glares at him whenever he enters a room.

Keith lasts about five days. Then, he loses it.

“Is this some kind of payback?” Keith demands, resisting the urge to grin when Lance and Hunk flinch at his unexpected arrival in the common room.

“Keith?” Hunk asks, looking nervously between Lance and Keith as if expecting a sudden explosion.

Admittedly, he’s probably not far off.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Lance asks, his Hate Keith face now proudly on display, having replaced the Friendly Bonding expression he’d been wearing seconds prior.

“You heard me,” Keith growls, coming to a stop before Lance, who had stood up from the floor while Keith was gaining on him. Hunk reluctantly stands as well and places himself slightly between the Red and Blue Paladins.

“Payback for what?” Lance asks with a sharp grin. “Are you going to finally admit that you, all of a sudden, ignored me again?”

“I–”

“You know what, Keith,” Lance grabs Hunk’s wrist and starts to drag him out the door. “Let’s just work together when we have to, and we can ignore each other when we don’t. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Keith spits, ignoring the way his heart clenches at Lance’s words.

As Hunk and Lance leave the room, he hears Hunk say, “That seemed a little harsh, man.” He doesn’t hear Lance’s response.

-----

This is Keith’s fault. He knows it is. After all, he’s the one that started ignoring Lance again after he’d realized how he felt about the Blue Paladin. He’s the one who decided it was better to stay as distant from Lance as possible. He’s the one who can’t get close to people without hurting them.

So, yeah, this is Keith’s fault, and he’s not afraid to beat himself up for it. The thing is, Keith hadn’t realized how lonely it is without Lance hanging around, taunting, mocking, and training with Keith. And now that Keith isn’t the one who’s making it their mission to ignore the other, he realizes how shitty it feels.

He’s lonely.

He’s on a castle ship with people that he spends days on end with, and he’s lonely.

The problem is that he doesn’t know if he can fix it. He’s not sure he even knows where to begin. Had this been a problem with anyone else, Keith would have definitely gone to Shiro for advice. But this time he doesn’t want to admit that it was his fault and that he’s probably deeper into this ‘feelings for Lance’ thing than he had originally thought.

So he decides to leave it. What’s a little loneliness in the grand scheme of things, anyway?

[meredith-lives]

Fanfiction - The Captive (Part 4/?)

Summary:  The Blue Paladin gets captured by Prince Lotor.   Hopefully he’ll be able to figure out how to escape, that is, once he works out who the hell he is.

Pairing:  Lance/Lotor

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

It didn’t take long before Demaris arrived.  Her yellow eyes were still downcast as she laid out his outfit on the bed.  He had to admit the clothing was quite beautiful.   Long silver harem trousers with a swirling blue pattern a little like leaves paired with long robes with the same pattern.  It had a silver chain belt with a circular clasp.  It was a bit like what he’d imagine seeing in something out of Arabian nights, well, except this was far more modest.  

 Along with it came silvery soft shoes, more like slippers really.  He wondered if this would be warm enough to stop the cold from leaching in.  And, finally there was the bling, a confusing array of jewellery.  Silver earrings in intricate circular knots and attached that attached to the lobes with clips in some way.  Rings, silver ones for every finger except thumbs, and a necklace with a dark blue round gem.

 ‘Umm, do I really need to wear all this?’

 ‘It is what Prince Lotor wishes.’

 He thought of what Lotor wore, he’d only seen him in space-age armour, or those silver pants when he slept.  He picked up the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. It felt surprisingly warm and thank God for small mercies with that, he was sick of the cold. ‘It just seems…too fancy?’

 ‘You are the Prince’s companion, it’s what is expected.’  There was disapproval in her voice.

 ‘Look, am I making you upset?  Am I doing something wrong?’

 ‘Not at all.’  She said, somewhat dismissive, and obviously eager to end the subject.   ‘I’ll help you with the jewellery.’

 Blue sighed.  He didn’t think he’d get Demaris to talk anytime soon.  But he had to try at least one more time.  ‘Look, I know you’re not supposed to chat.  But I literally know next to nothing about…well anything here, so.  I promise I won’t blab, it’s not like there is anyone to blab to anyway.’  And wasn’t that the truth.  

 Demaris’s lip curled slightly, and she looked away for a moment before turning back to him, her face now blank, giving away nothing. So catlike and foreign it gave him chills.   ‘You must have had a charmed life to believe anyone would trust so easily.  And you, yourself, should be careful who you speak to, companion.  Not everyone will be happy that Prince Lotor took you as his companion.’

 ‘Well, it’s not like I had much choice.’

 ‘None of us do,’ Demaris said.  ‘Even-’  Demaris stopped herself, seeming to think better of what she was saying and then continued.  ‘You will not be hearing any gossip from me, companion.’

 What, now 'companion’ was a title?  Maybe there was something more to it than Lotor had led on.   Sure he wasn’t  a sex slave, he was a warm teddy bear slave, a blankie to the big bad purple elf prince.  He should be relieved and in a large part he was, but it was also a bit humiliating. Especially the way he was being decorated, apparently to be dragged out to be shown off in public.  Wasn’t he supposed to be this badass terrorist assassin pilot?    Well, obviously not so badass, on account of being caught, but still  -  this wasn’t usually how evil overlords dealt with their captured enemies, at least not in any story he’d read.  

 But this wasn’t a story. This was real. Well, either that or a really bizarre drug dream, but it was pointless to worry about that possibility.  This world he as in, it seemed as real as it could get.

 By the time Lotor returned, from wherever he had been, Blue was fully dressed.  Belt buckled, hair down and half up in a braid which kept his hair behind his ear. The silvery knotted earring looped around his earlobes and clipped in place so the silver knots hanged from his earlobes (he was sure he’d seen some character wear something like it in Star Trek), along with a pretty nice choker with a dark blue stone.  Blue didn’t think he was one for fashion, but it was kind of classy (well, in a Persian/harem way), and the face and hand cream that Demaris had given him worked a treat. He’d have to ask her for more so he could do this daily.  The cold wasn’t doing great for his pores.

 ‘You look satisfactory,’ Lotor nodded.

 ‘Only satisfactory?,’  he put his hand over his heart acting wounded. ‘I got all decked out for this date and you’re-”  Blue stopped, suddenly feeling heated as he realised he’d been flirting.  What the fuck self.  

 ‘I’m what?’  Lotor said, looking both annoyed and confused in equal measure.

 ‘Well, I would have thought I was a bit more than satisfactory,’ Blue said in the most casual way he could, relieved that the hair grabby jerk didn’t notice.  Let a guy give you nice clothes, sparkly gems and hand cream and apparently, he might just be that easy.  Actually was he even gay?   Jesus, he didn’t know, surely such knowledge would be instinctive.  You shouldn’t just forget your sexuality could you?  Did this mean he had to go through a sexual identity crisis on top of a ‘who the fuck am I’ crisis?  Then again, Lotor was extremely pretty, those cheekbones and long silky hair would make most female models cry in envy, so it was hard to tell. Lotor probably could turn straight men gay.  That is, if they could get past his height and muscled biceps and wide shoulders and yeah, maybe he was just a little gay.  Oh God help him.

 ‘Are all human as strange as you?’  Lotor asked.

 ‘Since the only humans I can remember are movie stars and star wars characters, I have no freaking idea.’  Blue put his hands up.

 ‘Movie stars war?’

 ‘Never mind,’ Blue shook his hand.   ‘It’s a long story.  Anyway, I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where we’re going, the Bridge right?’  Visions of the Enterprise floated behind his eyes.  

‘That is correct.  It is where I command the fleet.  It’s important that you be seen by the senior bridge staff.’

 ‘Sweet, think of all the intel I can gather, once I escape.  I’ll be the hero of the rebellion.  I’ll have all the hot babes after me.’   Yeah, it was official, his mouth had a mind of his own and he knew right form Lotor’s face he was definitely going to regret it.

 Lotor grabbed his right forearm, the pressure almost but not quite painful as he loomed over him.  ‘This is not the time for your outlandish jokes.  Listen carefully, Paladin, for your life will depend on it.  You will not speak to me outside these rooms unless I give you leave. You will not speak to anyone else under any circumstances.  Do you understand?’  His arm was squeezed and now it definitely hurt.

 ‘Okay, okay, I won’t talk to a soul.’  Calm down, Legolas.  

 His arm was let go and Blue rubbed it gingerly. Just when he was starting to see Lotor as maybe an ally, and not so bad, he was forcefully reminded of who Lotor was.   And reminded of how much of a jerk he was, no matter how good looking.   A jerk who had him a captive, a slave, a fucking doll to be dressed up and paraded around.

 ‘Good,’ Lotor said, oblivious to Blue’s resentment. ‘You’re part of my household now. I am the one who will answer if you insult another, and I am not in any humor to fight another over your foolishness.’

 Whatever! His right hand balled in a fist in angry helplessness.    Blue gave no fucks about Lotor’s problems, but he wasn’t keen to put himself on the mercy of anyone else in this strange confusing world he’d found himself in.   So he’d endure, play nice and he’d work out a way to get away somehow.  

 My first note:  Yes Lotor is a jerk.  But he’ll get better.  Maybe. I don’t know how much in-character he’ll be (heh, we’re all guessing right now), maybe he’ll be totally OOC, but I’m aiming to have this finished before the new series. 

Please tell me if I have any embarrassing typos. I write purely for fun, so I don’t spend much time editing.

Thanks for reading.