#galran keith | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 1 year

Text

Enchanted

Chapter 1

Posted on AO3 if you prefer! (Will also contain extra content in the future)

Background Lore:

- Post 500-year war, Zarkon was defeated and taken over by his son, Kolivan who ended the war

- Each planet has it's own language but everyone knows common as well

- There is some mistrust among some species and the Galrans (because of the war) but they are all working through it

- Earth did join the fight right around the time Kolivan took over

- Keith is high-key based off Noctis from FF15

Side Note: The ages are based off a human life span since I've never thought too much on what an average Galran / Altean life span was. Zarkon lived as long as he did (only passed 500 years in this case) because of quintessence. If you, the reader, have your own age head canon just substitute them as you read :)

Characters:

Galran's:

Kolivan and Krolia: Keith's parents

Kolivan is the son of the former empire Zarkon

Shiro: Keith's trainer and royal advisor

Altean's:

King Alfor and Alluras Mom: Rule Altea, parents to Allura

Romelle: Allura's knight (and future gf)

Adam: Altean knight, used to work with Lance

Coran: Sir (highest knight role) works alongside Alfor and trained/raised Lance

Hunk: Blacksmith, makes weapons exclusively for Altean Knights

Human's:

Pidge and Matt: Build's technology for the new universe

Word Count: 2701

-----

Keith’s POV

“That’s all for this meeting, we will reconvene next week.” Empire Kolivan said, dismissing the group of generals, politicians, and his child. Keith moved to stand before his father spoke again, “Keith, stay a bit longer.”

Keith nodded and sat back down. Remaining silently in his seat until the last person left the conference room.

“We’re having another banquet tonight. I need you to be there, no sneaking off like the last couple of times.” His father kept his voice light, but stern. A tone that must come naturally to being a father.

Keith fought back an eye roll, his parents knew how much he hated these parties. They knew how much he hated his responsibilities as the next in line to the throne. Despite his young age, he already had a reputation for disliking politics. He loathed coming up with contracts and budget spending, visiting places to “leave a good impression,” and attending all of these meetings. He despised almost everything that came with royalty.

“I’ll be there.”

His dad smiled at him, “thank you, son. I only request tonight since there is someone I want you to meet.”

He wanted to smash his head into the table in front of him. Every week his parents had a new person “he just needed to meet.” They both were trying so hard for him to meet someone to settle down with. To someday rule the empire with. Just like his father did when he met his mother.

“Son?”

Keith pushed himself away from the table, “I’ll be there. But don’t get mad if I'm late.” He left the room before his father could say anything else.

He made his way back to his room, taking the long way through the gardens. He liked the quiet, he liked the moments when he didn’t have to be the crown prince. He stopped, admiring the flowers that were finally in bloom. Some were dark purple, others a light blue but his favorite was a bright green. The color smelled fruity in a sense, maybe a bit sour. He wasn’t too sure, but he liked looking at it.

He nodded his head at the gardeners, continuing his way to his room. His mind cycled around what his father said.

Keith felt broken in a sense. He was almost twenty-one and he had never found someone he liked. Sure, he found people attractive and he had anyone he wanted at his feet but he never felt any connection to them. He hadn’t even kissed someone before. He knew deep down he was disappointing his parents. He knew he wasn't the son they needed. He wasn’t the son the empire needed.

His life was easy, planned out. Meet a nice girl, get married, have a couple of kids, and take over the empire when his father deemed him ready. It was laid out in front of him, like clothes for a kid. But the idea of following that made his stomach turn and his skin itch.

He hated himself for it.

He entered the ballroom about half an hour after the party started; his parents sent him a wide smile when they saw him. He nodded back at them, immediately grabbing a drink from a passing waiter.

He moved off to the side of the room, being stopped every couple of feet by someone else. Some politicians, some generals, but mostly girls trying to get his attention. He felt weird responding to compliments, but no one ever told him how to reply to a thousand “you look nice" comments.

Keith hated small talk. He considered himself a boring person. He didn't have much interest outside of sword fighting with his trainer Shiro or reading old textbooks of the days before him or his father or his father. He wasn't what you would call social. He didn't want to talk about war or the military or alliances, he just wanted to read and wander around nature in silence.

Keith stared down at his drink, circling it slightly to watch the dark liquid move. How long did he have to stay here? These parties always went late into the night, and usually towards the end were just filled with drunk people.

“How are you doing?” His father stood by him, smiling a bit at the guest passing them.

Keith shrugged, “fine. How much longer?”

Kolivan chuckled slightly, “Only a bit. The guest hasn’t arrived yet.”

Keith continued to stare at his drink, he almost forgot about this ‘special’ guest. “Well...where are they?”

His dad placed his hand on his shoulder, “they’ll be here soon.” With a gentle squeeze, he walked away.

Keith spent the next hour making small talk. Trying to match the blush from his guest when he kissed their hands or gave them the validation they wanted from a prince. He never could.

"Oh my god, look at them," a hushed whisper floated by Keith. A couple more gasps filled the air, and Keith found himself looking at the entrance.

Two men had entered the ballroom, their silver armor glimmering under the lights. The metal was decked out with chains, some medals, and certain silvery colors. They stood side by side, their swords sheathed at their sides.

Keith watched them move through the room, heading straight toward his parents; only offering friendly nods at the people around them. Keith found it a bit odd, he had never seen them before but they walked so...confidently. He usually knew everyone that attended these parties, and the people he didn’t know never walked in like they owned the place.

They both bowed at his parents, the man with orange hair, and a matching orange mustache saying something to them with a smile. The younger man with tanner skin didn’t open his mouth, but he looked happy to be there. They talked to his parents as if they already knew him. The man with orange hair laughed with him like he was an old friend.

Keith couldn't tear his eyes away from them; specifically, the other man standing next to him. He had short brown hair, he seemed to be a bit taller than him, and a slender build. Even through his armor, he could see the strength he held in his body. How square his shoulders were and the perfect posture he had.

Keith was staring, usually, he never stared at people but right now, he didn't want to stop. He wanted to memorize everything about that boy. Every inch of skin, which was only his head, how soft his expression looked even from this distance. What did his voice sound like? How did he laugh? Was he super serious? What was his name?

Keith suddenly wanted to know everything about this new guest. He stared until the mysterious boy turned his head. He had never seen the ocean but if the waters he had heard about didn't resemble these eyes; he didn't want to see them.

The man gave him a soft smile, looking at Keith like he had met him before; like he already knew him. Which, he knew, was impossible since he would remember those eyes.

He was pulled out of his mind as the man started making his way toward him, his father leading the way. "Son! This is the guest I wanted you to meet. Well, I suppose two guests."

His heart fluttered in his chest, which had never happened before. Was he dying? Having a heart attack? Should he call for a doctor? It would be his nightmare if he died at one of these parties.

"Son, I want you to meet Sir. Smythe and his newest approved sworn knight, Knight McClain."

Now that they were standing right in front of him, he could really look at them. They both had marks under their eyes; both a soft blue. They were Altean.

The man with the orange mustache, Sir. Smythe looked a bit older; older than Keith's dad but not too much older. He also had an eyepatch covering his right eye. He had a scar extended past the eyepatch below and above it. The skin taut around the white mark.

Knight McClain was younger, he couldn't be much older or younger than Keith. His skin looked soft and he looked at Keith with a sense of protection and comfort.

The knight reached for Keith's hand, holding it gently in his before he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the back of his hand. "Pleasure to meet your highness."

Keith was speechless, his lungs burned from lack of oxygen and why did it feel like his hand was on fire? The knight dropped his hand, moving to straighten his back and stand, his shoulders squared.

"Son, Knight McClain was very recently sworn in under the Altean military. He quickly proved himself to be the top of the class and surpassed everyone with high marks. King Alfor has sent him over as an alliance present to be your new bodyguard.” His father spoke, proudness rolling off his voice. “That’s if you want him, of course.”

Keith looked at his dad with wonder and curiosity. This was a huge step for the Alteans. They were the most affected by the Galran reign, nearly being completely wiped out. King Alfor gifting one of his best knights was a step in the right direction. But why did he choose Keith? He hardly knew the King.

He looked back at the knight. Still trying to understand why his heart was beating so fast. Why he felt enchanted.

---

“Good morning prince,” one of the cooks smiled at him as they placed a plate of food in front of him.

He grumbled out his own greeting, everyone knew he wasn’t a morning person.

“Morning baby,” his mother pressed a quick kiss to his head before taking her own seat. “How did you sleep?”

He shrugged, he tried to sleep; he really did. But every time he closed his eyes all he could think about were those blue eyes. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake it.

His mother frowned at him, “are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he twisted his fork around, moving the food around his plate lazily. “I’ve been thinking about what dad said. About the knight, King Alfor wants to give me.”

His mother nodded, taking a drink from her cup.

“Is he still here?” He never really gave an answer last night, he couldn't form any words.

“Yes, he and Sir Smythe stayed the night.”

Keith stared at his plate, his heart borderline pounding out of his chest. He didn’t know why so he did his best to ignore it. “I want to talk to him…before I accept him.”

Krolia smiled, “of course.”

---

“How old are you?” Keith leaned back in his chair, propping his head up in his hand as he leaned against the armrest. He was always scolded for how relaxed he sat but he couldn’t bring himself to sit seriously all the time.

The knight sat in front of him, after a slight argument where he insisted he didn’t need to sit but Keith said it would be weird for only him to be sitting. The knight sat stiffly, his back straight and his hands on his lap, his sword still hanging on his hip. “Just turned twenty-one.”

“What’s your first name?”

“Lance.”

“Lance McClain?”

Lance nodded, “that is correct your majesty.”

“Were you born on Altea?”

“Yes, and raised there.”

Keith took a couple of moments to look at Lance; he didn’t even wiggle under his gaze. Something most people did when alone with a Galran. Their scars on the universe ran deep; there wasn't a planet or species unaffected by the Galran former terror. But Lance seemed oddly comfortable in Keith’s presence. Maybe he didn't know anyone that was directly affected by his grandfather's horror. “How long have you been a knight?”

“I was sworn in at age eighteen, but following Altea rules, I had to do grunt work for the first three years.”

Keith gave a slow nod, “interesting…did you like it?”

Lance gave a lopsided grin, “it was work. That’s all I can say.”

“What did you do?”

“Guarded an empty room most of the time, sat in meetings, and had a path to follow around the castle. Boring guard work. But I didn’t mind it.”

“You’ve never guarded a person before?” Keith asked, a bit skeptical.

“Solely? No, I haven’t. But I am confident that I can do the job better than anyone else.”

“Uh huh,” Keith began to rub his fingers together, he hated sitting still for long amounts of time. He stared at the other boy, were all Altean knights this confident? Or just him? No, Sir Smythe was also confident. Keith sighed to himself, he wasn’t used to people not being a bit frazzled around him.

Only his parents and Shiro could care less about his status. “What languages do you know?”

“Common, Altean, Galran, and I can fumble my way through Balmeran.”

Well rounded, what exactly was his training like? “So you can understand what I’m saying?” Keith spoke in his mother tongue, the rough words easily rolling out. Galran wasn't a difficult language to learn if you grew up with it, but others have said that it can be a challenge.

Lance nodded, “yes your majesty.” He responded in fluent Galran.

Keith felt a small smile form on his face. “Tell me about your training.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. When did you start, how long did you train, your hardest mission, things like that.”

Lance looked down at his hands, his fingers tapping against his upper thighs lightly. “Coran, Sir Smythe, took me in when I was around seven. I didn’t start training till age nine, four years before most children start. Coran was my main teacher, I also worked with others, but Coran showed me everything I know. I was sworn in at age eighteen as I already said. Usually, knight training starts at age thirteen and I couldn't enroll in the classes until I was older. So I have an additional couple years under my belt.” Lance paused, meeting Keith’s eyes. “My hardest training was being sent to an abandoned planet at age fifteen to find a holy relic.”

“You did that without any help?” Keith raised his eyebrow at the question.

“Yes. Altean knights have to attend a solo search and find missions as part of their training.”

“I see…how long did it take?”

“A month. But I still hold the quickest time.”

Keith tried to push down the laugh that formed in his chest. “A month to find a relic?”

Lance nodded, clearly holding no embarrassment over the statement. “You aren’t given any weapons or supplies. You’re given some sleep medicine and placed on the planet in your training clothes. No map, no food, nothing. You aren’t even told what you’re looking for until…well you find it.”

“Oh.” Keith took a deep breath, “tell me about your family.”

Lance froze at the statement, Keith could see the way his body became ridged up at the sentence. But he quickly relaxed his body, placing another smile on his face; a tense smile. “There’s nothing to say about them, prince. They’re not in the picture.”

Keith looked at Lance a bit longer before he pushed himself up. Taking a couple of steps to stand in front of the knight. He stopped in front of him, leaving enough distance that Lance could stand up if he wanted. But he remained seated, his blue eyes meeting Keith’s purple ones.

“Are you ready for the most important questions?”

“Yes, prince.”

“Are you loyal?”

“Yes.”

“Will you do as commanded?”

“Anything you order, your majesty.”

“Would you die for me?”

“Without question.”

“Stand.”

Lance did so, they had a slight height difference, Lance being a couple of inches taller than him.

“I look forward to having you work for me.”

Lance grabbed his hand, the same hand from Lance night, and pressed another kiss to it. “I look forward to serving you,” he looked up, still staying bent at the waist. “Prince.”

Keith felt his heart jump into his throat, why was he feeling like this?

-----

I hope you liked it, this fic won't be as long as my last multi fic (Roommates) but I'm estimating 5 - 8 chapters depending

I hope you liked it!!

Thank you for reading <33333

50 notes · View notes

the-kittens-of-vol-tron · 1 year

Text

Enchanted

First Chapter! Previous Chapter!

AO3!

Chapter 11: Leaving Too Soon

Summary: The plan to catch who captured Keith is put into effect. Lance dreams of something daunting. (I did add a POV for a random side character for some effect)

Word Count: 2,689

Trigger Warning: - Murder - Reliving Injuries (Happens in a Dream)

Lance’s POV

He stared up at the dark ceiling. His mind raced a mile a minute. The necklace sat around his neck. Heavy. Energy radiated through the room.

Lance,

This is a protection necklace. Each Knight has their own. Please wear it at all times. It is connected to you through your blood.

Best,

Honerva

A protection necklace? Why would he need that? Wasn’t the armor enough? His sword? Why did she make this? And why would she need his blood for that? He tried to silence his thoughts, pressing a soft kiss to Keith’s head. The Prince remained unmoving on his chest. His breathing is slow and even.

He wanted to sleep himself, just pass the time till he could talk to Keith again.

He wasn’t even sure why he was this worked up about it. She was acting a bit weird around him and the questioning was…intense. Plus, whenever new equipment was being introduced Coran was the first to tell them. He didn’t mention a protection necklace.

Keith stirred slightly. His face scrunching up in uneasiness.

Lance frowned down at him, this was new behavior. He shook ever so slightly, his breathing becoming a bit heavy. “Keith?” He whispered, running his hand through his hair.

Keith squeezed his eyes tighter, his body moving a bit more.

Lance held on to him tighter, “Keith?!”

His eyes snapped open, pushing himself upward in a frenzy.

“Easy,” Lance moved with him, holding his wrist gently. “Just breathe, you’re awake.”

The Galran looked at him, his eyes filled with anxiety. “You’re here.” He said in a breathy tone. His eyes scanned him up and down.

“Yeah…I’m here.”

Keith dropped his head, looking at Lance’s hands. “Sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” He did his best to keep his voice light. His body safe.

“I just…I thought you were dead. Kinda freaked out.”

A pang of guilt vibrated through Lance. “I’m not dead. I’m here…with you.”

Keith nodded, his eyes still cast down.

“Hey…can you look at me?”

He slowly lifted his head, meeting his eyes.

Lance sent him a soft smile, lifting the other boy's right wrist. Placing his hand over his heart. “Feel that? I’m alive.”

Keith stared at his hand. Seeming to only watch the way Lance’s chest rose and fell with each breath.

Lance squeezed his wrist slightly, “I’m still here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” He didn’t seem convinced.

“Come here,” he gently pulled the other boy toward him. Coxing him to lie down again. Pressing Keith’s head against his chest. “Just listen.”

Keith made a small grunt of acknowledgment, letting his body go lax on Lance. He wrapped his arms around the Prince, holding him tightly. Silently vowing to never hurt him like that again.

---

“Thirty-seven.”

“Hm?” Krolia asked, turning her attention to the soldier.

“He’s switching between two styles of fighting. It’s subtle but,” Lance squinted his eyes at the Galran. He needed to get closer to be sure. The balcony was a bit high up for up-close details.

“Would you like to test him?” Kolivan asked.

Lance nodded, “may I?”

“Just don’t kill him,” Krolia said with a sigh.

Lance felt a small smirk on his face. “I won’t. You actually set the boundary.” He quickly made his way down toward the soldiers. He headed toward thirty-seven. What was his name? Garrick.

He stopped in front of the soldier, keeping his posture relaxed. His core opened. “Thirty-seven.”

The soldier stopped, looking at the knight with uncertainty. “Sir?”

“I want you to fight me.”

The soldier raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Uh…why?”

Lance smiled, he didn’t blame his reservation. Everyone was told they were doing a “training” check. To make sure everyone was “up to par.” And if he was a traitor to the Galran empire. He was most likely trying to figure out why he was singled out. What gave him away? “I want to see something, that’s all.”

The soldier shook his head, probably thinking he was some sadistic bastard. “I’m not going to fight you.”

Lance nodded, turning his back. He didn’t even make it a step before he yanked his sword out, rotating to swing it at the soldier.

Garrick fumbled a bit but managed to raise his blade just in time to collide with Lance’s.

Lance could feel everyone’s eyes on them. He didn’t mind the added pressure. The sooner he cracked Garrick, the sooner he would know if he had the right person. He pulled back and swung again, not aiming for anything vital.

Garrick stepped back, his left foot sliding some as he braced himself for the next swing. Lance stepped forward, pushing his opponent back more. He quickly stepped off to the side, letting the purple blade stab the air besides him.

So far everything was good. He hasn't used any styles from Zarkon’s training. Lance had studied a pamphlet over breakfast, he had them memorized. I need to push him more. He ducked under another swing, kicking his leg toward Garrick. Sending him to the ground.

Garrick growled, baring his teeth some as he scrambled back up. His feet wide apart, both hands holding his blade. His body trying to be as big as possible. More of a scare tactic than a good defensive strategy.

Lance smiled to himself, bingo.

Garrick lunged at him and Lance put his sword back in its holder. Grabbing the hands that held the blade with his left hand. Pushing them to the left as his right foot kicked his legs to the right. Sending him on the ground with a hard thump.

Lance immediately pressed his knee on his back, between his shoulder blades. Holding Garrick's own blade against his neck. He leaned down, whispering in his ear. “You made that too easy for me, Garrick.”

The Galran bared his teeth, pushing up against the knight.

Two guards ran toward them, “we can take it from here Knight McClain!”

Lance moved some so they could handcuff him before he stood all the way up. Pulling the neckline of his undersuit down a bit. Was it always this hot outside?

---

“Ugh!” Shiro pressed his head against the table. “He won’t crack.”

Lance’s jaw was tight as he looked through the double-sided glass. He hadn’t been given clearance to do any actual interrogation. Just watching others. So he found himself pacing the glass. Almost as if he was stalking his prey.

He didn’t blame the Emperor for not giving him clearance. He didn’t completely understand the Galran laws and he might petrify the poor boy. While he may be a traitor to the Galran Empire he was still a kid. Someone who was dragged in when he was too young to understand or form his own thoughts.

“Are we sure he’s even a traitor?” Keith asked, clearly annoyed this was taking so long.

Lance gave a stiff nod, “yes. But these techniques aren’t working. He might have been given training on Galran interrogation techniques.”

Shiro lifted his head off the table, “what are you implying?”

“I’m not saying your interrogation tactics are bad but he might just be numb to them.” Lance moved to the table. “Do you have a list of the Galran’s that were captured earlier?”

Shiro activated the hologram, pulling up the list of prisoners. Lance scrolled through the list, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. But he would know it when he saw it. “Prince, when you were captured did you see anyone? Or hear any defining features?”

Keith shifted forward, his eyes scanning the list. “No. I couldn’t move my head to see anything. But someone did interrupt Sendek. And they said ‘Vrepit sa.”

“What Zarkon used to say?” Shiro asked.

Keith nodded.

Lance smiled and closed down the list. He would have kissed Keith if they were alone. “I need to speak to the Emperor, I have a plan, it just might not be conventional.”

---

Garrick’s POV

Key jingled slightly as footsteps approached his cell. He chewed on his inner cheek. He hadn’t said anything during his interrogation. He denied everything, but how was that knight able to see through him? What gave him away?

The footsteps stopped in front of his cell, and an unfamiliar Galran Guard faced him. “Come here.” His voice was low, grave. Not a voice he recognized.

He stared at the guard, making no attempt to move closer. He didn’t know him and he didn’t feel like being questioned anymore.

The guard glanced down the hallway. Before whispering two words. “Vrepit sa.”

“Vrepit sa,” Garrick moved closer as quietly as he could. “Who are you?”

The guard unhooked the keys from his belt loop. “Someone who is following orders from higher up.” He unlocked the door. “They’re pulling the mission back. Gather everyone in the castle and meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes.” He opened the door, ushering Garrick out.

His stomach sank, that wasn’t the way to do things. Sure he didn’t get orders from the higher-ups but he knew they were supposed to die before they left the mission. Anxiety grew in his chest. “Why?”

The guard looked at him, the upper part of his face covered by a helmet. “Sendek is dead. New people are taking over. I can get you out tonight or you can face trial and be sentenced to death. You pick.”

Garrick looked down the hallway, completely empty. “Sorry, I just have a weird feeling in my gut.”

The guard gave a small nod, “these are just our orders. Ten minutes. Vrepit sa.” He closed his cell and moved down the hallway in the opposite direction he came.

Garrick swallowed and ran the other way. The universe is smiling at him by making every hallway empty. Free of other guards. He quickly gathered the eight other members. Telling them he would explain everything once they were out of the castle walls.

They made their way to the courtyard, with only a couple of minutes to spare.

“Where is he?” Someone asked.

Garrick shrugged, “give him a second.”

As if on cue the guard stepped forward, a smile on his face. “Vrepit sa.”

“Vrepit sa,” they all whispered.

“Is this everyone?” The nameless guard asked.

“Yes,” Garrick replied. “I was the only one in the batch tested today. They were all scheduled for later this week.”

The guard’s smile widened, “come here, Garrick. I have to tell you something.”

Garrick obliged, pushing down the desire to run away.

The guard leaned forward, whispering in his ear. “Just some life advice. Next time your gut is telling you something is wrong. Listen to it.”

He heard a gasp before he realized what was happening. They were completely surrounded by soldiers loyal to Kolivan. And the nameless guard wasn’t Galran. He was the Altean Knight. They were quickly surrounded, begging forced on their stomachs as cuffs were placed on them.

Garrick stared at the knight, “Alteans aren’t supposed to play dirty!”

The knight tilted his head some, stepping forward slightly. Kneeling in front of him. “You’re right. But you touched my prince. I don’t play nicely when you do that.”

He was lifted off the ground, the guard's hands tight around his upper arms. He didn’t even have the energy to scream or fight back. He fell right into their trap.

---

Lance’s POV

His footsteps echoed off the metal walls as he walked. He had no idea where he was. He hadn't been in this part of the castle before.

He was alone. No voices. The only sound was his footsteps echoing through the air. He was heading toward the end of a hallway. A bright light filled the exit. He was maybe sixty feet away when he heard something. A giggle?

His body stopped, his feet glued to the floor.

Laughter. A woman talking. Sounds he hadn’t heard in years.

He bolted forward. Did the hallway get longer? He shook his head and pushed his legs more. The exit slowly getting closer, and closer and-

Screams filled the room, begging and pleading. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but they sounded scared. In pain. Not again, not again! He needed to help them. He wasn’t the same helpless kid he was fourteen years ago.

He finally reached the exit, his eyes adjusting to the bright light. His vision filled with red. His nose was immediately attacked with a rusty smell. His family lay in a motionless heap on the ground. Keith stood over them, his sword in his hands. The silver and blue decorated with blood.

Keith turned some, looking at him over his shoulder. “Hey, Lance.”

His knees shook, his chest trying to pull as much air in as he could. “What did you do?!” He didn’t recognize his own voice. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the Alteans on the ground.

Keith turned to properly face him. He looked like Keith but something was off about him, In a different circumstance he would have been able to identify it. But not right now.

“You seem mad at me.” The Prince took a couple of steps toward him. The tip of the sword dragged on the ground. “I don’t know why you would be. You’re the one that said I didn’t kill them.”

He snapped his eyes toward the Prince, opening his mouth to try and reply but instead a familiar pain blossomed in his abdomen. His own sword plunged into his gut. He gasped, trying to swallow the red liquid that moved up his throat.

He begged his arms to move, to shove the other boy away. To escape. Run away. Deal with the guilt that he couldn’t save them. Not then and not now.

Keith placed his free hand on Lance’s cheek. His thumb smeared the blood that trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “You’re pathetic. And you and I both know you’re not worthy of your title. But there is one thing you need to know.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s cheek. An intimate gesture clashing with what was happening. His lips were right by his ears, his breathing light. “This is all in your head.”

His body shot upward, his hands grabbing at his stomach as his lungs ached for air. A hand was touching him. Grabbing his shoulder as another voice filled the room. “Lance! Take a deep breath, you’re okay.”

He reached for the hand, shoving it off his body as he tried to get off the bed. Everything was ringing. His body felt tense, almost as if electricity was moving across his skin. No matter how many breaths he took, his vision was spotted. His heart pounded in his ears. His mind is trying to grasp what just happened.

His knees hit the floor, and he found himself scratching at his shirt. Peeling it off his sweat-soaked skin. Why was everything so hot?

He stumbled toward the balcony, the cold air immediately wrapping around him. He slumped on the railing, his fingers white due to his grasp. Every so slowly his breath began to calm. The buzz feeling slowly dimmed out of existence. Leaving a faint ring sound.

His body shivered some and he found himself sitting. Hugging his knees as he pushed his face into them. Trying to stop his mind from cycling over the dream. "You’re okay. He didn’t kill them. You’re okay.” He mumbled over and over in Altean.

A ghost touch brushed his arm, a soft voice calling his name. “Lance…?”

He flinched, despite knowing the source.

The touch disappeared, a body sitting next to him. “I can leave if you want but…I wanted to check on you.”

Lance let himself fall to the side, his head resting on Keith’s shoulder. The Prince rested his own head against Lance’s. Sitting in silence for a bit. “Bad dream?” He asked.

“Yeah.” His voice was breathy and he squeezed his eyes shut. Trying to get the image of his family out of his head.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head no. He couldn’t ever tell Keith about that.

-----

Oh noooooooo poor baby </3

Thank you for reading!

19 notes · View notes