Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s a waste of time,” Pidge had said. “We’re only staying in this town for the night. If you’re not back by morning again, then I’m leaving your ass.”

“Yeah,” Hunk had chimed in. “I’m all about rescuing people, but if the rumors are true then this ruined tower is just outside the village. The town guard will take care of it.”

“Relax, guys,” Lance had replied. “I’m just gonna zip in, beat up some bandits, rescue a princess, and zip out. I’ll be back before breakfast!”

“Not if you get distracted by this princess,” Pidge had grumbled.

Now, in the present, Lance was the one grumbling. His friends’ words rang through his head as he stared up at the crumbling tower. Distracted? Him? He had laser focus! Nothing could break it, not even pretty maidens that were grateful that a charming, mysterious stranger had come to their rescue. Besides, he was doing the right thing! Yes, maybe Hunk had a point and the town guard would’ve come along to rescue her anyways. But if he was in captivity he’d certainly want to get out of there as soon as possible! And bonus points if his rescuer was a dashing rogue who saved him before slipping off into the night…

Lance shook himself. Laser focus. He had laser focus and right now all that focus was centered on saving a princess from a tower, just like in his childhood story books. He considered the stairs but shrugged them off. He’d already scouted around to make sure there was no one standing guard outside the tower. That meant that the bandits must all be inside, probably writing ransom letters to the poor girl’s family right now. His tail swished as he stared at the ivy-covered walls. A grin spread across his face. He’d scaled walls much higher than this back in the day. This would be a piece of cake.

Lance grasped onto the thick stems of ivy, his claws sinking into crumbling stone. He hauled himself up, movements quick and silent, a practiced ease about them. It wasn’t long until he was just beneath the window looking into the top of the tower. He paused, ears flicking as he listened for voices, footsteps, anything. There wasn’t a sound, and Lance’s brow furrowed at the eerie quietness of the place. Cautiously, he peeked up over the window sill. Relief flooded him as he spotted the princess.

She was sitting with her back to him, tied down to a chair and facing the stairway. He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed she had black hair spilling past her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her pale skin and the dark wine-red of her dress. A quick sweep of the room revealed no guards. The lack of her captors sent a trill of unease through Lance, but he wasn’t one to question such good luck when it was presented to him.

He slipped into the room, silently tiptoeing over to the dark-haired beauty. “Hey there, your majesty,” Lance whispered as he began to circle around to stand in front of her. The princess jumped, head whipping around. Lance only had the briefest moment to notice the strange lack of a gag before he met her eyes. They were a shimmering violet, a color he had never seen in any person’s eyes before. For a moment he forgot how to speak, his own eyes trailing from the black locks framing her face to her shining eyes to the curve of her jaw and the way her lips parted slightly in surprise. He shook himself, clearing his throat before dropping his voice back to the smooth, quiet murmur of before. “The name’s Lance,” he practically purred, “but you can call me your savior.”

Something flashed in the princess's eyes for a moment, something sharp, but it was gone in a heartbeat. “Lance?” The princess asked. Her voice was a lot deeper than he expected. For a moment, Lance was surprised but he shrugged it off. Who was he to judge? Besides, he’d be lying if he said that voice didn’t have a very pleasant rumble to it.

“I thought your name was Pike?” the princess continued. Lance was taken aback, his eyebrows reaching his hairline. She knew him? The princess’s own eyes widened at his reaction, and Lance almost got lost in the stormy violet once again. “I, uh, I recognized you!” the princess continued. “From the wanted posters. It said your name was Pike.”

Lance flinched at the mention of those posters. “They never get my nose right,” he grumbled quietly to himself before addressing the princess again. “Pike is an alias from my old life. Don’t worry, your majesty, the most I do now is save lovely ladies like yourself.” He put on his best charming grin, throwing in a wink at the end for some flair.

The sharpness was back in her eyes, if only for a moment. Lance’s brow furrowed. Was she angry at him? Whatever that emotion was, it was gone so fast that he couldn’t get a proper read on it.

“Well, I’m very grateful,” the princess continued. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind-?” She wiggled her arms a little, drawing attention to the ropes binding them to the chair.

“Of course!” Lance replied, bending over to slice the ropes in half with his claws. As he straightened back up his eyes caught on the tiara he had failed to notice before,
what with being so preoccupied with the princess’s face. He squinted at it. Something wasn’t quite right with the gem in the middle. It was red like a ruby, but the luster was off, the jewel more transparent than it ought to be. He had seen quite a few gems in his day and this didn’t look like any of them. His eyes widened.

“That’s glass,” he breathed. The princess looked up, gaze confused before it caught on to where Lance’s eyes were looking. She went rigid in the chair. It was just then that the wrongness of the situation came crashing down on him. The lack of bandits outside the tower or guarding the princess, the fact she wasn’t gagged, the fake crown. Lance took a step back, his eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

The words had barely left his mouth when the princess lunged. Lance yelped, trying to scramble back but before he could so much as blink she had gotten a leg behind him, tripping him. He hit the floor with a thud, wincing as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Next thing he knew there was a weight on top, his vision a blur of red and black and violet. A hand closed around one of his wrists in a bruising grip, pinning it to the floor. He felt something cold and sharp press into his throat.

Lance tried to push up only to feel the weapon dig into his neck. He froze, a small drop of blood trailing down his throat. Slowly, he crooked a brow up at the not-princess. “Where’d you pull that thing out of?”

His attacker growled, literally growled down at him. The fake crown had fallen off at some point during their fight, revealing little curved black horns that almost blended with her hair. His hair? Their hair? Now that this person was almost certainly not a princess, Lance wasn’t really sure anymore.

“Pike,” the person hissed down at him. “You are under arrest for the crimes of theft, trespassing, defrauding… Need I go on?”

Lance shrugged, shooting the person a cheeky grin. “Nah, babe, I lived all those crimes. No one knows them better than me.”

The not-princess’s eyes widened at the word “babe.” Lance could have sworn he saw the start of a blush spreading across their face before their scowl returned with a vengeance. “Get up!” They spat, practically dragging Lance to his feet.

“Ow, jeez, okay, okay, take it easy!” Lance exclaimed as he was manhandled, the weapon never leaving his neck for an instant. “Someone’s handsy.”

His attacker growled again, eyes flashing dangerously. Lance felt like he should have been afraid of that look, but all he felt was smugness. He may be the one with a knife to his throat, but he wasn’t the one getting worked up over a few one-liners. “On your knees!” The person spat.

Lance raised a brow, and he could see as that simple gesture already sent fury coursing through the other person. “At least take me to dinner first.”

With an angry snarl the not-a-princess circled behind him, Lance barley having time to register the movement before he was kicked sharply in the back of the knee, bringing him down whether he liked it or not. He gasped in pain, his head suddenly grabbed and shoved into the floor. He could feel as the rope from earlier was fastened around his hands, binding them behind his back. “Getting right to it, huh?” he mumbled as best he could with his cheek squished to the floor.

“My god, will you just shut up?!” his attacker growled.

“Maybe you should’ve splurged when you were shopping for that fake crown and bought a gag,” Lance replied. “Make things extra interesting.” He added an eyebrow wiggle at the end.

The other person didn’t dignify that with a response, only dragging him roughly to his feet, jostling him around a bit more than Lance thought was strictly necessary. His captor started shoving him towards the staircase.

“So now that you’ve got me all tied up and helpless, what’re you going to do to me?” Lance asked, trying to turn his head to look at the person only to have fingers tangle in his hair and force his head forwards.

“I’m bringing you to justice,” they growled.

“Justice?” Lance said. “Who’s she?”

His captor didn’t reply, simply shoving him along down the stairs.

“So are you like, a town guard, or-?”

“Bounty hunter,” the person snapped. “I bring in the scum they can’t catch.”

“Ouch. You know, I’m not really into degradation-”

Suddenly the sharp thing was back at his throat, pressing too close for comfort.

“I swear, if you don’t-” his captor started to say.

“Okay, okay, I can take a hint!” Lance exclaimed. He could’ve sworn he heard a relieved sigh from the person behind him. He waited for the weapon to retreat before he next spoke. “Seriously, though, I’ve got to level with you. I kind of assumed you were a girl because of the whole princess thing, but now that you’re definitely not a princess, I don’t know anymore. Like, I get gender is relative and all that. My people have three genders. I think the Myraxxians have something crazy like fifty or sixty genders or something. And Pidge’s people don’t even a word for gender in their language. So I was just wondering, if you do have some sort of gender, could you maybe-?”

“I’m a man,” his captor cut him off, voice gruff.

“Cool, cool,” Lance replied. “Me too. So now that I know you’re a dude, do I get a name to call you by or-?”

“You don’t need to know my name,” the man replied.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll just make one up. Ummmm, I’m thinking something dark and mysterious since you’ve got that whole edgy brooding thing going on. How about… Thunderstorm Darkness!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Whatever you say, Stormy.”

Right then they reached the bottom of the tower, stepping out into open air. The sun was setting, bathing the surrounding forest in golden light. When they didn’t immediately move forward, Lance turned to glance behind him. The man was looking around them, brow pinched slightly. When he caught Lance looking he scowled, shoving him forward as they started off in a certain direction. A direction that was definitely not where the village was. Lance almost corrected him, but at the last second he caught himself and bit his tongue. Either this guy was taking him somewhere other than the local jail, or he was seriously bad at directions. A grin slowly spread across Lance’s face. If it was the latter, Lance was about to give this guy one hell of a time.

Chapter Text

“You know, I’m pretty sure we passed that boulder twice now.”

Keith growled, shoving his prisoner forward. “No, we haven’t!” he snapped. “We-” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes at the boulder in question. Okay, maybe it did look a little familiar. He was pretty sure the last boulder had a clump of red mushrooms growing on it too. But that didn’t mean anything! They were in a forest. There were lots of mushrooms around.

“You alright back there, Stormy?”

Keith leveled a glare at the back of the other boy’s head. “Don’t call me that!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just tell me your name,” Pike said. Pike? Lance? Keith shook his head. It didn’t matter what he called himself, he was a criminal and Keith was taking him in. Just as soon as he could figure out where exactly to take him.

“Not happening,” Keith growled in response to Lance’s words.

Lance shrugged. “Then Stormy’s gonna have to stay.”

Just then the hem of Keith’s dress caught on a root, tearing slightly. He bared his teeth at the offending garment, reaching down to rip it off him. He didn’t know why he hadn’t removed the ridiculous thing sooner. Probably because he was too flustered by Lance’s remarks. Well, distracted. Preoccupied? Definitely not flustered. It’s not like anything Lance was saying actually affected him. Not at all.

Keith glanced back up just in time to meet Lance’s gaze. The other boy was staring unabashedly at him, eyes wide and cheeks turning slightly pink. Keith crossed his arms self consciously. “What?!” he snapped.

Lance shook himself, glancing away. He almost looked embarrassed for a moment before that infuriating smirk spread across his face once more. “You know, I thought you looked good in a dress, but this look really works for you.”

Keith glanced away, feeling his face heat up. In anger. He was angry, because this guy was infuriating and a criminal, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Keith wasn’t even wearing anything special. He just had leather leggings, a red kilt, boots, gauntlets, pauldrons, and a fur cloak. He looked back over to find Lance’s eyes trailing over his bare torso. With a snarl he dug his hands into the other man’s hair and forced his head away. His cheeks burned. With anger, of course.

“Just keep walking,” Keith said, shoving his prisoner forward. Lance squawked as he stumbled, teetering for a moment before Keith grabbed his shoulder and steadied him.

“Jeez, is this how you treat everyone who gives you a compliment?” he huffed.

“Only the petty criminals,” Keith retorted.

“So if I were an upstanding citizen, you would’ve given me that pretty blush without the rough-handling?”

“I’m not blushing!” Keith snapped. His cheeks burned in even further anger.

“My apologies,” Lance said, shooting him a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you could change your color at will. Is that some kind of magic or-”

“You’re insufferable,” Keith grumbled.

“Aww, thanks babe!”

Keith bared his teeth. He was opening his mouth to retort when he noticed a root sticking up out of the trail in front of them. A root that Lance couldn’t see since his head was turned, busy giving Keith that infuriating grin. So Keith snapped his jaw shut, using his hand on the other boy’s back to urge him forward.

One moment Lance was there, grinning cheekily at him. The next he was gone, vanishing with a shriek and a thump. Keith looked down, finding a pile of cat-person sprawled out on the ground. “Oops,” Keith said, voice emotionless. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“You totally saw that root!” Lance accused, rolling over to glare up at him.

“And you didn’t see it,” Keith replied, stepping calmly over said root. He was just about to bend over and pull Lance back to his feet when the boy below him arched his back. It almost looked like he was about to do a somersault, but instead of rolling backwards he stopped halfway, kicking his legs out so he arced through the air, landing gracefully back on his feet… on his feet and right in front of Keith. The bounty hunter froze as the other boy’s face stopped inches from his own. He stood there, staring wide-eyed at soft, brown skin and piercing blue eyes. He could feel the other’s breath puffing against his lips.

Lance pulled back, his expression changing back to that stupid smirk that instantly got Keith’s blood boiling. He shook himself harshly. What the hell was that?! Keith was an excellent warrior. His instincts and reflexes in battle were practically unrivaled. So why the hell did he freeze up when this thief got in his face?! The stupid cat guy could have bit him or head butted him or something. He should have immediately leapt back, and yet he just stood there staring like an idiot.

“You know, cats always land on their feet,” Lance said, breaking Keith out of his thoughts. The thief looked rather smug about his previous move.

Keith snorted humorlessly. “Tell that to the root.” He spun Lance around harshly, pushing him forward again as the other boy let out a string of indignant sputtering noises that ultimately failed to culminate in a comeback.

Instead he settled for doing a rather childish rendition of Keith’s voice, muttering to himself in a mocking tone, “Tell that to the root.” Keith merely rolled his eyes and ignored him.

Dusk was setting in, stars beginning to twinkle to life in the sky. Keith was tempted to stop and make camp, but it wasn’t worth the risk with a prisoner in tow. Besides, they couldn’t be that far from the village now. Any moment now the trees would part and there’d be a cozy tavern room he could crash in for the night and a cramped jail cell for his companion. He just had to keep going.

Keith tried to hide his yawn behind a hand but the thief's sharp eyes caught on to the movement anyways. “You look tired, dude. You want to stop for the night?”

“I’m fine,” Keith grumbled, pushing the other boy forward.

Lance shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself.”

They stumbled around in the dark for at least another hour, Keith cursing the thick shadows among the trees. The light from his lantern seemed to provide almost no help. Keith was growing increasingly frustrated. Not only was there no sign of the village, but he had tripped over at least four roots and an entire tree stump at one point. Lance, on the other hand, seemed to dance around these obstacles with ease.

Keith swore as his boot got caught on a stone in the path, sending him careening forward into the back of the other boy. “Whoa, slow down there, hotshot,” the thief said, glancing over his shoulder.

“How’re you doing that?!” Keith snapped.

“Doing what?”

“You haven’t tripped over anything once since that root back there!”

Lance grinned, shooting Keith a wink. “Night vision. These baby blues can see for miles.”

“Of fucking course,” Keith grumbled. “The cat boy has cat eyes.”

“That is one of the perks,” Lance replied. “What about you? No dragon heat ray vision or whatever?”

Keith winced, his hands almost flying self-consciously up to his horns. He stopped the gesture, glaring to the side. “No,” he said shortly.

Lance glanced back at him, brow furrowing in concern. He was opening his mouth to speak when he ran right into a sheer stone wall. He let out a little oof before toppling backwards into Keith. “Shit!” the bounty hunter gasped, managing to brace himself and keep them both upright. “Night vision, huh?”

“Well excuse me if I don’t have eyes in the back of my head!” Lance retorted huffily.

“Maybe if you’d stop looking back then you’d stop running into things.”

“Well maybe if you’d stop walking behind me like a weirdo I wouldn’t have to do a full 180 to have a conversation!”

“You’re my prisoner!” Keith snapped. “I’m not just gonna let you out of sight so you can try and escape!”

Lance snorted. “I don’t think either of us are going anywhere right now.”

“What?” Keith asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Lance gestured to the obstacle he’d run into. Keith lifted his lantern, squinting his eyes. Sheer stone reflected the candle light back at him, rising up into darkness.

“It’s a cliff,” Lance supplied unhelpfully.

“Damn it,” Keith whispered, clenching his fist. His hand shook in anger and he stepped back, voice raising. “Damn it!”

“Don’t worry,” Lance drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure the village is just at the top.”

“How did we get here?!” Keith snarled, more to himself than the boy next to him.

“I mean, you took a wrong turn waaaaay back at the tower, so this was bound to happen.”

Keith rounded on him, eyes narrowed. “You knew we were going the wrong way the whole time?!”

“I’m not exactly gonna help you put me behind bars,” Lance scoffed. “Besides, the real crime would be depriving you of my company so soon.”

Keith groaned, slumping against the cliff and sliding down to the ground. He gazed up at the sky overhead, some stars visible through the gaps in the leaves. God, he was so tired.

“You don’t look so good, dude,” Lance said, sliding down next to him.

“I’m fine,” Keith huffed out.

“You’ve been yawning for the past two hours. Come on, there’s no way you’re going to find the village in the darkness.”

“The second I close my eyes you’re going to try to escape.”

“And if I pinky promise I won’t?”

Keith snorted. “Like I’m gonna trust a thief and scoundrel.”

“Ooh, the scoundrel bit’s new. Spicing up the old vocabulary, are we?”

Keith groaned, running his fingers agitatedly through his hair as he tried to will the exhaustion from his body.

“Okay, tell you what,” Lance began. “Instead of stumbling around in the woods and you tripping over every other thing, how about we just sit here until morning? You don’t have to sleep or anything, you can just rest your feet and keep an eye on me. Sound good?”

Keith grit his teeth. As reluctant as he was to agree to any plan proposed by this criminal, he had to admit it was a good one. Begrudgingly, he nodded.

“Alright,” Lance beamed. “One low-key, kidnapping chill sesh coming right up.”

“Sesh?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, you know. Like, short for session.”

“No one says that.”

Lance’s mouth turned down into something that looked suspiciously like a pout. “I say that.”

“No one but you.”

“That’s because I’m fun and quirky.”

Keith rolled his eyes, trying and failing to suppress a yawn. He felt his eyelids growing heavy but he shook himself, forcing them open.

“You know,” Lance began. Keith turned to face him, seeing the other man gazing at the sky above them. The candlelight flickered across his face, making his skin almost look like it was glowing in the darkness. “Back home they say the stars are the souls of our loved ones, on their journey from this world to the next. They look down on us just as we look up at them.”

Keith said nothing. Perhaps if he were more alert, he’d find this change in Lance’s attitude odd. The boy before him had gone from smirking and teasing to talking softly, solemnly. However, with Keith’s mind battling to stay awake, he felt nothing but calm, content with watching the way the light danced over Lance’s brown skin. He almost looked like a bronze statue, polished and gleaming in some secluded palace garden. Only Lance was too warm and alive to be kept away as some hidden treasure. His eyes reflected the stars overhead, turning them into little galaxies, twinkling in the darkness.

“If you follow the stars, then the souls will guide you home,” Lance continued. His voice was hushed, as if he raised it any higher it would break something fragile, something right there that Keith himself couldn’t yet see. “They’re just trying to reach home, too.”

Keith’s eyes fluttered once, twice. Lance’s voice was washing over him, filling his head with a gentle hum. He wanted to keep looking, but his eyelids were so heavy. He felt so very, very heavy, like he were a stone upon the earth, a part of the cliff he leaned against. He felt as his body molded with the cliff, as the world fell away, or connected with him, or both. He closed his eyes.

Lance startled as a head fell against his shoulder. He glanced down, shocked to see his captor dozing against him. The other boy looked different in sleep. The scowl that Lance had thought was a permanent fixture of his face had melted away, his expression relaxed and open. He looked peaceful like this. All his hard edges seemed to smooth over, the starlight resting on his pale skin like a blanket, its silvery beams woven among strands of dark hair. Lance swallowed thickly.

He should get up. He really should. Now would be the perfect opportunity to escape. He just had to slowly slip away from his captor, get these ropes off of him, and then he was home free. It should be a cinch to get the other boy’s knife out of its sheath, what with Lance’s hands being well-practiced in the art of pick-pocketing. Perhaps he could then scale this cliff. Make it extra hard for the bounty hunter to follow him in the morning.

Lance glanced up at the moon overhead. He frowned as his eyes traced its path. There was no way he would reach the village by dawn, not with how far away Keith had led them. That meant Pidge was going to kick his ass. But if he were to be late because he had been unable to escape his kidnapper and was in great peril… Well, maybe she’d go easy on him when he got back. Yeah. That was a good enough reason to stay. Definitely not because his captor looked pretty in the starlight. Or because the way his cheek squished against Lance’s shoulder looked absolutely adorable. No, that had nothing to do with it.

Lance settled back against the cliff with a sigh. If he wasn’t escaping tonight then he might as well get some rest himself. Gingerly he lowered his head until it was resting on top of the other boy’s, the dark hair tickling his cheek. Lance shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of the soft locks. There were much worse ways to spend the night.

Chapter Text

Lance woke up to the sound of rustling. His ear twitched, brows furrowing as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. It must just be the wind. In fact, he could hear it right now, whispering through the leaves. Whispering. Murmuring. Laughing.

Lance straightened up, jostling his sleepy companion. He glanced in surprise at the other boy, having forgotten that he had become the man’s pillow the night before. His captor merely groaned in his sleep, thick brows scrunching up in a way that was much too cute before he settled again.

The sounds had cut off, but after a few moments they resumed, a hushed murmur in the undergrowth. Lance’s ear flicked as he caught what sounded like a quiet snicker. There was no way that was just a breeze. He was turning to shake the other boy awake when it happened.

A figure burst from the bushes, grabbing him and dragging him to his feet. He yelped, his sleeping captor gasping after having being dumped so unceremoniously off of his shoulder. Lance glanced behind him to see the other boy sitting up, blinking in bleery confusion. Another person burst from the brush just then. Lance noticed the way his captor’s hand instinctively flashed down towards his dagger, but a boot stamped his wrist into the ground before he could reach. The next thing Lance knew, his captor was being yanked to his feet by his dark hair, the boy yelping in pain. Something bristled inside Lance at the sight.

“Hello, Keith,” the man holding him leered, snatching the boy’s dagger from its sheath and tossing it aside. “It’s been a while.”

“James,” Keith snarled. Another person stepped out from the trees. And another. Lance’s eyes flicked around. He counted five. His gaze shot back to the man holding Keith, a sword pressed against the other boy’s throat.

“I’ve got to thank you for delivering this bounty straight to us,” the man sneered. “Really, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble.”

“Like you’d get your hands dirty actually catching a criminal yourself,” Keith snapped.

The man, James, shrugged. “Work smarter, not harder. You find the criminals, I get the money. I rather like our little business arrangement.”

“You’re no better than them,” Keith spat, giving James a glare so heated that Lance would’ve flinched under that gaze.

James was just opening his mouth to retort when Lance interrupted him. “Seriously, guys, this is flattering and all, but I’m taken.” Every head turned towards him, the bandits or whatever they were almost looking baffled that he’d spoken.Keith was the only one who didn’t look surprised by Lance’s comment, merely rolling his eyes in the middle of the situation. “Finders keepers and all that.”

“So this one’s got an ego,” James finally said. Lance snorted at the irony of that statement. “Bet you’ve been loving that, Keithy.”

“Woah, woah, only I’m allowed to call him Keithy,” Lance retorted.

Keith’s face was twisted in a look somewhere between annoyance and pain. James merely stared at Lance for a moment, face surprisingly blank. “We’ll teach you manners soon enough, cat.”

Lance shrugged. “Whatever you say, swine.”

There was a pause. Then James nodded minutely to the henchman holding Lance. Before he could so much as blink, a fist collided with his stomach. Lance wheezed, almost falling to his knees before the hands holding him hauled him back up again.

“Lesson one,” James said, a nasty smirk on his face. “Don’t speak unless spoken to.”

“Leave him alone,” Keith snapped.

“Getting sentimental over your prisoner? Keith, that isn’t like you.”

“Careful, James,” Keith hissed. “Wouldn’t want to get your boots dirty in a real fight.”

Lance coughed quietly, the breath slowly starting to seep back into his lungs. He could hear the quiet threat in Keith’s tone, and honestly he was amazed this guy wasn’t running for the hills by now. Keith sounded positively murderous.

Instead, James mimed thoughtfulness, his expression mocking. “You know, that’s a good point. I think I’ll use the bounty on this guy to buy myself a new pair of boots. These ones still have blood on them from that time I broke your nose. Good memories,” James trailed off with a wistful look.

With a growl Keith spat right in his face, baring his teeth. For a moment nothing happened. Then James raised his hand, and the henchmen started forward.

So this whole bantering thing had been fun and all, but Lance could clearly see that now was the time for actions over words. In a flash he’d sprung up from his crumpled posture, twisting around enough to sink his teeth into the shoulder of the man securing him. The bandit yelped in pain, his grip relaxing enough that Lance could pull his bound wrists away. In an instant he flipped up into the air, landing behind the henchman and kicking the back of his knee so that his legs gave way beneath him.

For an instant he caught a glimpse of Keith. The man had gotten ahold of a sword somehow, perhaps taking advantage of the distraction Lance just caused. One bandit was already out cold on the ground, and Keith was currently fighting the three others at once. If Lance had to give a frank assessment of the situation, he’d say Keith was kicking ass.

Lance grinned, landing another kick to the back of his opponent’s head and sending him sprawling out on the ground. He was just stepping over him to go help Keith when a hand grabbed onto his ankle. Lance yelped as he hit the earth, being dragged backwards by his leg. He twisted around in the bandit’s grip, the man scowling down at him, a sizable lump forming on his head. Apparently he had a thicker skull than Lance realized.

Lance folded his free leg back before extending it straight to where the sun don’t shine between his attacker’s legs. The man groaned in pain, and Lance couldn’t help but wince in sympathy despite the fact that this guy was actively trying to re-kidnap him. Needless to say, his ankle was released as the guy buckled to his knees. Not good enough. Lance kicked off the ground in the same move he’d used to impress Keith the other day, landing back on his feet. He was only there for a moment before he leapt into the air again, thighs wrapping around the man’s neck. He swung his body around, using it’s momentum to bring his opponent crashing down. Lance finished it with another swift kick to the guy’s head. This time he waited long enough to make sure the bandit was really knocked out before doing anything else.

Once he was certain the guy wasn’t getting back up, Lance glanced up and winced. Okay, Keith was definitely not winning his battle anymore. He managed to take out another bandit, but the remaining two, one being the dipshit James himself, had disarmed him and were now beating the crap out of him. Lance glanced around frantically, eyes falling on the dagger taken from Keith earlier. He rushed over to it, grasping the hilt between his toes and angling it up so he could slice open the ropes around his wrists. He jumped up, racing towards the bandits who still hadn’t noticed him since they were too busy trying to turn Keith’s pretty face black and blue.

Lance jumped into a spinning kick, hitting James squarely and knocking him into the other bandit as they both toppled to the ground. Lance had just enough time to pull Keith to his feet and press the dagger into his hand before their attackers were up, untangling themselves from each other in a manner that can’t quite be described as dignified. As much as Lance would love to beat the shit out of James, he knew no one would love it more than Keith, so he lunged at the remaining henchman, claws swiping down and tearing angry red lines in his cheek.

The man howled in pain, swinging his sword as Lance ducked beneath it, sticking out his leg to sweep the bandit’s feet out from under him. The man fell on his back, Lance stomping down on the hand holding the sword so that his opponent couldn’t bring it up to attack anymore. Lance crouched over him, pinning his other wrist to the ground. He might have let his claws dig into the skin. Just a little. He leaned down until his face was real close to the other guy, the man flinching below him.

“I told you,” Lance hissed, “I’m taken.” A quick blow over the head and the guy was in for a long, deep sleep. Lance smirked, using a single hand to springboard into a backwards flip off the henchman, just to show off.

He turned around to find Keith still locked in his battle with James. For a moment he considered going to help him, but then stepped back. This was Keith’s fight. If things got ugly he’d step in, but otherwise he was just going to enjoy every second of the James ass-beating that was going down before him.

Lance was surprised to find that Keith actually looked kind of graceful when he fought. With the boy’s hot-headed attitude Lance was expecting all brute force and no finesse. And yet, he moved smoothly from one move to the next, blocking and dodging with ease, his dagger flashing through the air in silver arcs. It was almost like a flame dancing on the wick of a candle; so unassuming, yet it could still leave forests as ash upon the ground.

Lance watched, mesmerized, as Keith’s blade danced almost teasingly against James’ bigger sword. Lance smirked at how easily Keith blocked the weapon, at how he seemed to lead every move, every step in their fight. James could tell too, if one were to go by the frustrated look on his face and the way he cursed every time one of Keith’s blows sent him stumbling off balance.

Then the moment came. The point where James’s frustration turned into recklessness. He lunged blindly, a desperate act to disarm Keith and get the fight back under his control. The rash move left him wide open and in a flash Keith had slipped under his outstretched arm, elbowing him hard in the side. James went down, wheezing and clutching at his waist as he hit the dirt. Keith glowered down at him, slowly, deliberately flipping his dagger around so that the hilt was pointing down, making sure James’ eyes caught the movement. Then he plunged the weapon down, the hilt hitting James’ skull with a dull thump that made him go limp.

For a moment Keith stood there, chest heaving, hair plastered to his skin from sweat, his eyes still burning with a righteous fury. Lance could feel the breath leave his lungs at the sight. A moment later he shook himself, a grin splitting across his face. He brought his hands up to clap, the sound making Keith jump as his eyes locked on Lance. “Bravo!” Lance called. “Love the dramatic finish!”

For a moment Keith did nothing, merely staring at Lance with wide eyes. It was just starting to get weird when, out of nowhere, Keith hurled his dagger at Lance. It happened so fast that Lance’s eyes could barely track the movement, and he didn’t have time to do more than yelp in fear before the weapon had buried itself in the tree behind him, the blade just barely skimming his shoulder, pinning him by his shirt to the trunk.

Lance glanced at the weapon in surprise. By the time he looked back up Keith was right in front of him, his face way closer than it was just a moment ago. “Woah, man!” Lance shrieked. “Personal space!”

Keith ignored him, yanking the dagger from the tree. He grabbed Lance’s wrists, spinning him around and shoving him against the trunk as he bound his hands once more in a single practiced motion.

“Seriously, dude,” Lance said, enough sense returning to him for anger to flare up. “Watch where you’re flinging that thing! You could have skewered me!”

“Why didn’t you run?” Keith cut in abruptly. Lance turned his head to look at him. The other boy looked confused. Baffled, more like. He opened his mouth to continue. “After you escaped that guy and cut yourself free, you could have taken off. But you stayed. Why?”

“I wasn’t just gonna let those guys walk all over you,” Lance retorted. For some reason he felt flustered under Keith’s scrutinizing gaze. He wished the guy would just take a step back or something. “You might think you’ve got a strict moral code or whatever, but I’ve got one too. And that’s to not let assholes be assholes.”

Keith was silent for a minute, studying him. Lance squirmed slightly and the other boy’s grip on his wrists tightened. “But even after you gave me my dagger, you took down your opponent before I defeated James, yet you still didn’t run.”

“Look, I got a little distracted, okay?” Lance snapped, his face heating up even further. “It happens to the best of us.”

There was a pause. Lance fidgeted around uncomfortably as Keith’s eyes bored holes into him. Finally, the other boy spoke. “You know, this changes nothing between us. I’m still taking you in.”

Lance looked away, unable to hold that sharp gaze any longer. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome,” he grumbled.

Keith said nothing, instead starting to march them forwards. For a long time they walked in silence, Keith keeping a firm grip on Lance’s hands. After several minutes of this weird, brooding atmosphere, Lance couldn’t take it anymore.

“So,” he spoke up, “Keith, huh?”

“Yeah,” the other boy replied curtly.

Lance paused for a moment, thinking it over. “You know, I think I like it better than Stormy.” He was facing forwards, so he didn’t notice the small smile that spread across Keith’s lips.

Chapter Text

Okay, so Lance had to admit: Scowly McMullet had a good point. He really should have escaped by now. Pidge and Hunk were bound to be worried after how long he’d been gone. Messing with Keith had been fun and all, but he obviously couldn’t actually accompany the bounty hunter all the way to his own jail cell. It was time for him to slip away, and he started looking for the right moment to do so.

Dusk was starting to fall. The day that had passed was, frankly, boring. Other than the fight with that James guy in the morning, nothing of interest had occurred. Plus, to make it even worse, Keith barely spoke the whole day, not even taking the bait of Lance’s teasing and jeering. Yet another reason to get out of there. It seemed his fun was wearing out.

“What are you planning?” Keith spoke suddenly, eyes narrowed. Lance jumped at his sudden voice.

“Jeez, dude, don’t scare a guy like that!” he hissed, willing the fur on his tail to lie flat again.

“You haven’t said anything in the last hour,” Keith pointed out, eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

“That’s because you’ve been Mr. Mcboring Face all day. If I’m gonna speak then I need an avid audience.”

“I’m not boring,” Keith snapped, scowling.

“You’ve been quiet, which is boring,” Lance retorted, rolling his eyes.

For a moment, Keith didn’t say anything. Lance thought he was dropping into another one of his sullen silences again before he spoke. “I just don’t get it. I saw you take that guy down with your hands still tied. Yet you’ve just been following me around this forest and you haven’t tried to escape once.”

Lance was starting to get real uncomfortable with this topic of escape, especially since he was planning on making said topic a reality later that night. “Look, man, I don’t have anywhere else to be,” Lance lied. “Getting kidnapped by you is the most entertaining thing that’s happened to me all week.”

Keith’s scowl deepened. “Arrested,” he said.

“What?”

“I arrested you. Not kidnapped. I don’t kidnap people.”

“Whatever you say,” Lance huffed. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Glad that you’re at least acknowledging my epic combat skills.”

Keith frowned, glancing away. “They’re passable,” he muttered.

“Passable?” Lance scoffed. “I know it’s embarrassing to underestimate people but you’ve gotta own up to it. I kicked ass this morning! Really, if I didn’t want to be here I’d be long gone by now.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. You might be a good fighter and everything, but there’s no way you could keep up with my sweet moves.”

“Prove it,” Keith snapped suddenly.

“...What?” Lance asked, taken aback.

“You think you could take me down so easily, then prove it,” Keith said. “See if you can back up your loud mouth.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second, are you planning on making me fight you with my hands tied? You like using unfair advantages against people, hot shot?”

Keith opened his mouth before closing it again. He narrowed his eyes, glancing from Lance’s bound wrists to his face and back. His brows furrowed as he seemed to be fighting an internal war with himself. Finally, a look of stubborn determination flashed across his face and in a single movement he grabbed his dagger and slashed open the ropes binding Lance’s wrists.

Lance let out a sigh of relief, bringing his hands up to rub at where the rope had irritated the skin. A grin curled across his face. Keith tensed, waiting for him to make the first move. Lance opened his mouth.

“Thanks, Keith.”

Suddenly Lance sprung into motion, but instead of attacking, he flipped backwards, putting some distance between himself and the other. He sunk his claws into a tree trunk, scurrying up it and well out of reach.

“Hey!” Keith called, running towards the tree. “What are you doing?!”

“Look, it’s been real fun,” Lance called down, “and as much as I would love to kick your butt, I just remembered I have some very important lunch plans with a couple of old friends.”

“What do you mean?” Keith snarled, smashing his fist against the tree in frustration.

“See ya, Stormy!” Lance yelled, giving the boy below one last smirk. Then he turned, swinging from a branch and launching himself into the air, latching onto the trunk of the next tree. He jumped from branch to branch, dodging and weaving. Below him he could hear angry shouts and rapid footfalls, but they were growing fainter and fainter. Lance smirked. There was no way Keith could keep up with him. Keith might be an expert in catching criminals, but Lance was an expert in getting himself out of tough situations. He still couldn’t believe the other boy fell for that whole ‘fair fight’ thing. Looks like he was getting to escape a bit sooner than he had planned.

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before Lance couldn’t even hear Keith behind him any more. Still, he stuck to the trees, putting as much distance as he could between himself and his former captor. The sun set and Lance still kept going, though admittedly at a much more reasonable pace. He was frustrated to say that he couldn’t find any familiar landmarks in the forest around him. Keith really had gotten them lost.

Eventually fatigue caught up with him. Feeling confident that he had long lost the other boy, Lance curled up on a wide tree branch, making a bed for himself among the leaves. He settled in for the night, lamenting the fact that he hadn’t stolen any of Keith’s food supply before taking off. He’d just have to find something to eat tomorrow.

The first thing Lance noticed when he woke up was that there was nothing underneath him. That is to say, he woke up in mid air. Lance screamed, flailing rather ungracefully before somehow landing on his feet. This small victory lasted barely a moment before something heavy collided into him from above. This time his landing wasn’t quite so lucky, his body sprawling out on the ground. He groaned in pain, slitting his eyes open to find none other than Keith above him. He also noted with some annoyance that Keith seemed to have landed in some sort of badass kneeling pose right on top of him, his dagger buried in the ground worryingly close to Lance’s neck. It would have probably looked really cool if it wasn’t so terrifying.

“Dude,” Lance groaned, thudding his head back against the ground. “There are nicer ways to wake a guy.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed, and Lance couldn’t help but recoil a bit under their gaze. “I don’t know why I ever trusted a lowly thief,” he hissed.

Lance held up a finger, both to make the other boy pause and to give him some space. Yet again, Keith’s face was entirely too close to be comfortable. “Correction,” Lance spoke up. “Former thief. I’m a redeemed man.”

Keith scoffed. “Say whatever you want to make yourself feel better. You’re a criminal. A coward. You prey on the innocent and take advantage of the weak.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger passing through him. “You know nothing about me,” he said quietly.

The bounty hunter scoffed. “I know more than enough. You all think you’re some kind of special case but you’re scum, just like the rest.”

Lance’s fur bristled, his teeth baring in a snarl. “You know what, Keith?” he growled. “You wanna fight? Let’s fight.”

Before Keith had a moment to react, Lance kicked up off the ground, shoving the other boy off him. Keith landed hard on his back, Lance quickly snatching his dagger from where it was still buried in the earth. He threw the weapon off into the bushes before bringing his foot down towards Keith’s crumpled form. The next thing he knew a couple of hands had grasped his foot, halting it. Then Keith pushed back, leaping to his feet as Lance lost his balance and toppled backwards.

He hissed as Keith got his leg pinned between his own body and Keith’s chest, the bounty hunter crowding over him as he tried to get Lance’s wrists pinned. Lance snarled, biting down into Keith’s arm and making the other boy yelp in pain as he drew back. Lance managed to kick Keith off of him again, rolling to the side as he tried to scramble to his feet. Keith tackled him back down before he had a chance, the pair rolling around in the dirt as they grappled with each other. Keith got as far as getting one of his wrists down at one point, but Lance was good at wriggling out of holds, doing his best to make the other boy’s life as difficult as physically possible. He managed to knee Keith in the gut, using that moment to pull apart from him and get on his feet.

Keith wheezed for breath, clutching at his stomach with one arm as he slowly tried to get to his own feet. Lance didn’t give him the opportunity, kicking him swiftly in the side and knocking him back over. “That all you got?” he taunted, baring his teeth down at his opponent.

Keith moved so fast that Lance didn’t even have time to react. One second he was lying in the dirt looking pathetic, and the next he lashed out with his leg, sweeping Lance’s feet from under him and bringing him back down. Lance yelped, hitting the ground in a roll and just barely clearing Keith’s fist as it smashed into the ground where his head was before. Immediately he jumped back to his feet, Keith scrambling up at the same time. The two just stared at each other for a moment, chests’ heaving. Then, slowly, a grin spread across Lance’s face. He crouched down into a fighting stance, Keith immediately following suit. “Let’s dance, pretty boy,” Lance sneered.

“Shut up,” Keith growled before charging him. Lance stepped smoothly to the side, trying to throw Keith off balance. Unfortunately, Keith reacted to his movement instantly, changing course and landing a blow straight across his face. Lance stumbled back, clutching his throbbing cheek. That was definitely going to bruise.

Keith charged him again, but this time Lance was a little more prepared. He faked to dodge left, then leaned right, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder and launching himself into a flip over his head, landing behind the bounty hunter. The second his feet touched the ground he leapt into a spinning kick, hitting Keith across the back and making him stumble forward. Before Keith could turn around Lance jumped on his back, locking his arms around his neck in a choke hold. If he could just knock this idiot out then he could be on his merry way and put this whole mess of a situation behind him. Keith, however, seemed to have other plans.

As soon as Lance’s arms closed around his neck Keith went limp, letting the extra weight on his back bring both of them crashing to the ground. If having another person land on top of him wasn’t enough, Lance also got an elbow to the stomach as he hit the earth, wheezing in pain while the breath was knocked from his lungs. Keith made to scrambled up but Lance got his bearings just in time to grab at him, shoving him back down as he rolled on top of him. He snarled as he grappled with Keith’s wrists, doing his best to pin them. All of a sudden Keith buried his teeth in Lance’s hand, breaking the skin. Lance yelped in pain, springing backwards on instinct so that there was some distance between the two. Keith leapt to his feet, his fists raised as he glared at the other boy.

“You just bit me!” Lance exclaimed, voice tainted with shock.

Keith’s scowl deepened. “You bit me first!” he retorted, turning his head to the side to spit out some blood.

Lance growled then, running at the other boy. Keith immediately followed suit, charging head on towards him. He raised his fist but Lance ducked at the last second, weaving under Keith’s outstretched arm and letting the other boy’s momentum carry him past. Instead of taking the opportunity to strike Keith, he kept running, headed for the tree line. He seriously needed to stop wasting time with this guy and get back to his friends. Plus, it would be funny to see the look on Keith’s face when he escaped him a second time.

He’d almost made it to the nearest tree when something collided with his legs. It tangled around his ankles, sending him face first into the dirt. He hissed in frustration, rolling onto his back and sitting up to find a bola wrapped around his legs. He was just reaching down to slash the rope with his claws when a much heavier weight collided around his middle, making him fall onto his back once more. Keith’s face filled his vision, the boy glaring furiously down at him as he wrestled with Lance’s arms. Without the added use of his legs, Keith was successful in pinning his wrists this time, quickly binding them in rope.

Lance growled in frustration, tugging uselessly at the restraints before collapsing down into the dirt. “What happened to a fair fight?” he spat.

“It’s hard to fight fair when your opponent keeps running away,” Keith growled back. He dragged Lance up none too gently, pulling him over to the tree that was supposed to have been his salvation. Lance tried to bite him once but Keith managed to get out of the way, so he settled for hissing angrily. Ignoring his antics, Keith bound his wrists and feet to the tree before straightening back up. He leveled Lance with a glare, and Lance did everything in his power to return that glare tenfold. “Stay,” Keith spat. Lance snapped his jaws at him once before the bounty hunter spun around, heading over to the bushes.

Lance smirked in satisfaction as he watched the other boy search around for his dagger. “Looking for something?” he called. Keith ignored him. “Next time I get my hands on that thing I’m throwing it straight off a cliff.” That time he got a reaction, although it was significantly stronger than what he expected. One moment Keith was rooting through the bushes and the next he was right in front of Lance. His fist collided with the tree trunk a little too close to Lance’s face. Lance couldn’t help but flinch, eyes widening at the other boy’s murderous expression.

“Do not touch my dagger,” he hissed quietly, emphasizing each word. The barely hidden threat hung there for a moment before Keith pulled away, going back to his search.

Lance shook himself, a little unnerved. “Man, someone’s touchy,” he called. “Did you skip breakfast today or something?” Keith didn’t respond. “Speaking of breakfast, I’m starving. You got anything to eat?”

The bounty hunter shot a glare over his shoulder. “You can wait until dinner,” he snapped.

“Aww, come on,” Lance pouted. “I didn’t have any food last night or this morning! Well, you already know about the morning bit, since you threw me out of a tree.”

“You would’ve had food if you hadn’t run away!” Keith called, voice growing increasingly annoyed. “Aha!” he stooped down, snatching his dagger from a tangle of leaves before marching back over to Lance. “Now,” he began, kneeling down so he could untie Lance’s legs from the tree trunk, “We’re going to the nearest town so that I can finally be rid of you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, buddy,” Lance grumbled. As soon as his feet were untied he aimed a kick at Keith, but the other boy was ready for it, side stepping the blow.

Keith got up in his face, making Lance flinch as he met the angry eyes before him. “You try and run and I’ll hit you with another bola. You’re not getting away so you might as well cooperate.”

“I never cooperate,” Lance sneered, baring his teeth.

Keith narrowed his eyes. The next thing Lance knew the other boy had knelt back down, tying rope around his ankles once more. He left a big enough length of rope between his feet so that he could walk, but still short enough that, should Lance try and run, it’d be a sure way to face plant straight into the dirt. Lance snapped his teeth at Keith when he straightened up to unfasten his wrists from the tree trunk, his tail lashing behind him in agitation.

“Move,” Keith growled, shoving Lance forward.

“You’re way more trouble than you’re worth, you know that,” Lance spat over his shoulder. Keith didn’t reply. Lance turned forward once more, stewing in his anger. It looked like escaping just got a whole lot harder.

Chapter Text

Keith was losing his mind. He was lost in the woods with the most insufferable prick he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered which one of them was really the prisoner in this situation. Still, it was his duty to clean criminals like Lance off the streets. He’d just have to bare with the other boy a little longer. Just until they found some semblance of civilization to point him in the right direction.

To make matters even worse, ever since their fight Lance kept trying to bite him. He hadn’t succeeded yet, but it was very annoying to have to constantly be wary of where the other boy’s teeth were. Honestly, even if Lance was successful it wouldn’t accomplish much, but Keith had a feeling Lance was just doing it out of spite rather than to help him escape in any way.

Speaking of bites, Keith had to halt their progress when they reached a stream. He secured Lance to a tree before using the water and some ointment to clean the one bite Lance had managed during their fight. He winced, the wound stinging as some fresh blood seeped out. Honestly, he was pretty surprised Lance hadn’t used his claws at any point during the fight. Keith could’ve been cut up a lot worse right now, and Lance might’ve even got away. His brow furrowed as he wrapped some bandages around the wound.

That was yet another thing that didn’t sit right with Keith. Lance didn’t always act how he was supposed to. Tricking Keith and trying to escape was pretty textbook behavior for a criminal. But helping him take out James’ men? Staying long enough to ensure he won his fight with James? And now this, where instead of using his every advantage to win their fight, he held back seemingly to prevent from harming Keith too severely. It just didn’t add up. He shook himself, scowling down into the water.

“Careful,” Lance called from his spot over by the tree. “You frown too much and you’re face will get stuck like that.”

Keith let out an annoyed huff, glancing over at the other boy. There were some small scrapes and bruises littered across him. A much larger bruise was blooming across his cheek, the skin slightly swollen. And then, of course, there was the place that Keith had bit him back. He didn’t have quite as many pointy teeth as Lance, but he did have a pair of fangs, and it clearly seemed to do a good enough job judging by the amount of dried blood on Lance’s hand.

“What?” Lance snapped, his fur bristling slightly.

Keith shook himself, realizing he’d been staring. He got up and marched over to the other boy, untying him from the tree and leading him towards the water.

“Woah, hey, hey!” Lance protested, trying to tug in the opposite direction. His eyes got wide as they darted from Keith to the rushing stream. “What are you doing?!”

Keith quirked a brow at him. “What, afraid of water?”

Lance scowled in return. “When my hands are tied and some dude’s dragging me towards it, yeah! I can’t exactly swim like this!”

Keith paused a moment, blinking in shock. Then his glare returned as he exclaimed, “I’m not gonna drown you!”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s trying to drown me would say!”

“Oh my god,” Keith grumbled, continuing to tug a reluctant Lance towards the stream. “I’m trying to clean the wound on your hand!”

Lance paused a moment, his struggles faltering. “Oh,” he said. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, studying Keith closely, but he let the other boy lead him towards the water. Keith pushed him so that he was sitting down on a rock before kneeling beside him. He took Lance’s hand, guiding it under the flow of water and beginning to scrub away the dried blood. Lance flinched, hissing slightly in pain, but otherwise didn’t make a sound. He also didn’t look away from Keith’s face for even a moment, though the bounty hunter did his best to ignore the other’s gaze.

Once the wound was cleaned Keith took it out of the water, drying it off on his cloak before reaching for the ointment. He dabbed it on carefully, making sure to rub it into the broken skin. Lance’s eyes were still on him, and Keith cursed the way his cheeks heated up slightly. He refused to return the other boy’s gaze, instead trying to focus on his task.

Next, Keith bandaged the wound, wrapping layers of cloth tightly around it. He tried to ignore how close Lance was to him, how his eyes still hadn’t stopped watching, how his hand felt warm in Keith’s own. Once the bandages were tied in place Keith sat back, releasing Lance’s hand like it had burned him. He stared down into the water as it rushed passed, glaring at the current and willing his face to cool down. He could still feel Lance’s eyes boring into him.

After a long moment of silence, Lance finally spoke up. “Why’d you do that?” His voice was quiet.

“Do what?” Keith asked shortly, still glaring at the water. Lance gestured vaguely with his bandaged hand. “So it wouldn’t get infected,” Keith muttered.

“Why do you care?”

“Look, I don’t want to have to drag your feverish ass around this forest,” Keith snapped. He stood up, grabbing Lance’s arm to pull him up as well. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

Lance didn’t reply, and he didn’t resist, either, as Keith marched him forward.

There it was. The key to Keith’s salvation. A shining beacon of hope in all the Lance-filled darkness. A road. It was more like a dusty, weedy path, but there was the telltale sign of old wagon ruts in it. A promise of civilization.

Keith beamed as he pushed Lance ahead of him. The other boy glared over his shoulder before pausing as he took in Keith’s expression. “How come you never look that happy to see me?” he chided.

Keith’s smile faded as soon as it had come, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously, you should do that more often. You’re headed straight for an early onset of wrinkles with all that pouting.”

“I don’t pout!” Keith snapped.

“Hey man, I’m just relieved that you still remember how to smile. I know it must be painful for you.”

“You’re such a dick,” Keith growled under his breath, shoving Lance perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“Says the guy who kidnapped me.”

Keith almost took the bait, his mouth opening to retort. However, whatever he was gonna say died on his tongue when he heard the sound of wheels squeaking behind them. He spun around, finding a small wooden cart making its way down the road, pulled by a single red ox. An elderly man sat in the driver's seat with reins in hand, and a little girl poked her head up from the back.

The cart pulled up alongside them, Keith yanking Lance back and out of the way. The other boy stumbled, bumping into Keith and hissing indignantly. The wagon’s two passengers peered down at the pair.

“Need a ride?” the little girl asked, a few bits of hay sticking out of her dark hair.

Keith glanced to the elderly man in the front, who was watching them expectantly from his sunken yet friendly face. “If your grandfather is okay with it, then that would be much appreciated,” Keith replied, nodding politely to the man. The man smiled back, revealing more gums than teeth.

“He can’t hear you,” the little girl piped up. “He’s deaf in both ears!” Her enthusiasm about sharing this information was the kind that could only be found in a small child.

“Oh,” Keith said, looking a bit sheepish. “Are you heading into town?”

“Yep!” the little girl replied. “Taking these carrots into market.” She slapped the pile of dirty orange vegetables behind her. “You coming or not?”

“Um, yeah,” Keith said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Hop on up,” the girl called, her little head disappearing back into the cart.

Keith led Lance around the back, ignoring the entirely too amused look that the other boy was giving him. For a second Keith hesitated, realizing the cart was too high off the ground for Lance to get in with his feet tied up. Then he grit his teeth, placing his hands on Lance’s waist and hoisting him up until he was sitting in the cart. Lance yelped as he was picked up without warning, his cheeks going bright red. Keith swallowed heavily, quickly backing away from his precarious position, his hands flying away like they’d been burned. Ignoring the heat in his own cheeks, he climbed up into the cart beside his prisoner.

The girl smacked the side of the cart with a force Keith didn’t know her little body possessed, making it sway on it’s rickety wheels. The old man snapped the reins in response, and they were off.

“What’s your names?” the girl called.

Keith was opening his mouth to reply but Lance beat him to it. “I’m Lance,” he said, beaming at the child. “And this frowning mop of hair is Keith.”

Keith glared at him.

“What?” Lance exclaimed. “I’m not allowed to introduce myself?”

“Why’re you tied up?” the little girl asked.

“Oh, I’m being kidnapped,” Lance replied without missing a beat.

The girl’s eyes were wide, though it seemed like it was more from excitement than fear. “By who?”

“He’s not being kidnapped,” Keith said, shooting Lance another glare. “He’s under arrest.”

“Are you a bad guy?” the little girl said bluntly.

Lance laughed. “No, I was actually trying to save a princess! But the princess ended up not being too friendly.”

“I wanna meet a princess!” the child exclaimed. She came over, plopping herself down right between the two boys. Keith winced. It didn’t seem like such a good idea to let a kid so close to a criminal.

“Sadly, there are none here,” Lance replied. “Just fakers with cheap glass crowns.” He shot a glare at Keith over the little girl’s head.

“Hey,” Keith began, shooting a worried glance between the girl and his prisoner. “Why don’t you go sit by your grandfather?”

Lance frowned at him.

“I’m fine right here,” the girl said, swinging her feet back and forth over the side of the cart.

“But wouldn’t-”

“I’m not gonna hurt the kid, Keith,” Lance interrupted, glaring at him. He looked almost offended.

Keith glared back. He waited for the little girl to look away before putting his hand over the hilt of his dagger, trying to convey a silent threat with his gaze. Lance merely rolled his eyes, making Keith bristle.

The thief then turned back to the child, a smile on his face. “What’s your name?”

“Moira,” she said, swaying to some tune only she could hear.

“Do you help your grandpa out often?”

“All the time. Mom says he’s old so he needs lots of help.”

“You must be very strong after carrying around all those carrots.”

“Sure am. Brave, too. There was a big hairy spider in the cupboard and I caught it and took it outside. Wasn’t even afraid or nothing!”

“That is brave!” Lance exclaimed. “If I ever find a spider, could I call on you to save me from it?”

“Sure can!” Moira said, puffing out her chest. “Nothing scares me!”

Keith narrowed his eyes,studying the warm expression on Lance’s face. The other boy ignored him, his attention fully on the child between them as they chatted away. The sight made something odd curl in Keith’s chest, but he pushed it down. He had to keep a close eye on Lance, now more than ever before. He wasn’t going to let a criminal harm an innocent child on his watch. His fingers clenched around the hilt of his dagger. Not ever again.

Keith sat in the front corner of the wagon, his eyes trained on Lance’s back. The thief and child hadn’t moved, still chatting and joking with their legs’ dangling over the cart’s back edge. Keith had retreated further back to give himself a better vantage point, allowing him to observe his prisoner’s every move. His fingers drummed nervously along his dagger.

So far Lance hadn’t done anything of note. He was listening with avid enthusiasm to Moira’s stories, like every word she said was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. At one point Moira had started reaching over the side of the cart, plucking flowers as they passed and placing them in Lance’s lap. Lance had told her that he’d make her a flower crown if he could. At that point Keith had flinched, ready to get up, but the thief didn’t make any further insinuations of having his hands untied, and after a while Keith calmed down. Now the pair were playing some sort of I-spy game as the cart rattled along.

“I spy,” Lance began, his eyes sweeping their surroundings. They landed on a Keith then, a spark of mischief in them that made the bounty hunter tense. “I spy something moody!”

Keith glared at him and Lance shrugged nonchalantly in return. Moira frowned in concentration, studying their surroundings. Then her eyes fell on Keith and her face lit up. “It’s Keith!” she exclaimed.

“Darn, I thought I’d stump you with that one!” Lance said, though his smile didn’t fade for a minute.”

“It’s Keith’s turn!” Moira called.

Keith shifted awkwardly under the little girl’s expectant gaze. “Um, no thank you,” he said quietly.

“Aw, come on Keith,” Lance piped up. “Be a good sport.” He nodded minutely to the excited child beside him, who was still staring at Keith with big eyes.

“Uh,” Keith began, searching all around. His eyes somehow gravitated back to Lance’s, the other boy watching him expectantly. Keith didn’t know why but he felt his face heat up, his gaze sliding away to glare at the ground. “I spy something blue,” he muttered before he could think better of it.

“The flower!” Moira said, snatching one of the blossoms off Lance’s lap.

“No,” Keith murmured, still refusing to glance up.

Moira frowned in concentration, looking around them. Then her face lit up as she pointed upwards. “The sky!”

“No,” Keith said. He felt like sinking down into the mound of carrots until they had swallowed him whole, never to be seen again.

Speaking of which, the next thing Moira grabbed was a carrot, brandishing it excitedly. “The mold!” she squeaked.

“No,” Keith said, voice only getting quieter.

“You should probably throw that one out,” Lance told her.

Moira nodded before turning and chucking the moldy carrot as hard as her little arm could. She frowned once more, glancing around in confusion.

“Geez, Keith, did you just make something up?” Lance asked.

“No,” Keith snapped, meeting Lance’s eyes once more. He couldn’t help but wince slightly before saying, “I wouldn’t do that!”

“I don’t know, man,”Lance replied. “Do you even know how to play I-spy?”

“Of course I know how to play I-spy!”

“Then are you color-blind?”

“No, I’m not-!”

“Blue!” Moira cried. Keith glanced over at her, and to his horror, he saw she was pointing directly at Lance’s eyes.

Keith’s face erupted in to flames, and he quickly glanced away as he muttered, “Yeah.”

There was a long pause, broken only by the sound of Moira’s gleeful laughter.

“Oh,” Lance said quietly.

Before anyone could add another word, the cart lurched to a halt. Keith frowned, staring at the thick trees that were still very much surrounding them. He turned around, glancing over the front of the cart. There in the road before them was a burly man, blocking the path. His stomach dropped at the sight.

“Morning, Jack,” the man called. He drummed his fingers along the sword sheathed at his hip. “I hope you brought the payment this time.”

Chapter Text

“He doesn’t have your payment!” Moira snapped, standing up so she could glare over the wall of the cart.

“Little Moira,” the man said, his grin relaxed and sinister. “It wasn’t very wise bringing you out here.”

“What do you want from these people?” Keith asked. He stood up, hopping down to stand beside the wagon, his hand on the hilt of his dagger.

The man’s smile faded as he glanced Keith over, eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t concern you, stranger,” he said coldly.

“We’ll see about that,” Keith replied, his tone just as cool. “I’ll ask again. What do you want from these people?”

The man glared at him before saying, “Old man Jack here has racked up quite a debt by using this road. He owes master Sulivan a lot of money.”

“That’s strange,” Keith replied, his tone even. “I wasn’t aware you could charge people for using roads in this kingdom.”

The man’s frown deepened. “Master Sulivan built this road. He has the right to tax all who use it.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Keith said, “but your master’s been lying to you. I’m sure you’re very torn up about it.”

The man clenched his jaw a moment before speaking again. “And who are you?”

“I’m-”

“Keith, watch out!”

Keith’s eyes widened at Lance’s shout, the sound closely followed by heavy footfalls. he just managed to duck as a club sailed over head, narrowly missing his skull. Keith rolled away, straightening up to find another man, just as big and bulky as the first.

“So this is how we’re doing it, huh?” he snarled, drawing his dagger.

The first man sneered, pulling out his sword as he charged. Keith blocked the swipe with his dagger, shifting his weight so that his assailant was thrown off balance. The thug stumbled into his partner, who had just been raising his club to land another blow.

“Keith!”

The bounty hunter allowed himself a moment to glance over at the cart while his enemies regrouped. Lance was staring intensely at him.

“Untie me!”

Keith grit his teeth, turning away to face the two men once more. “Not a chance!” he called.

“Keith!”

The thugs charged. Keith dodged out of the way of a heavy blow from the club, his dagger clashing against the sword. He ducked under the blade, just managing to clear the radius of the club as it smashed into the earth. Keith spun to face his attackers once more, having to instantly leap back and away from the arc of the sword. He grimaced. This wasn’t good.

Keith could barely keep up with the other men. It was all he could do to dodge and parry. Every time he cleared one weapon the other was right there, ready to strike. He couldn’t get a hit on them, too busy trying to keep his skull from getting smashed in.

Then it happened. He was just rolling away from the sword, his momentum still carrying him onto his feet. Something hit him hard in the side. He went down, wheezing in pain, his dagger sliding across the ground and out of reach. Keith made a lunge for the weapon, but a foot kicked him over. He glanced up just in time to see the club sailing towards his head.

Keith cried out, managing to jerk to the side at the last possible moment, the club skimming his cheek as it smashed into the earth. He gasped, rolling away from another blow aimed at his chest. He didn’t have the time to get to his feet, only to drag himself backwards in an increasingly desperate attempt to avoid the club, his attacker standing over him.

Keith snarled, waiting until the man was drawing his weapon back before kicking him right in the crotch. He just barely scrambled out of the way as the man collapsed, groaning in pain. He snatched up the club, finally able to get to his feet.

“Moira, run!”

Keith’s eyes snapped towards Lance’s voice, his stomach dropping at the scene before him. The old man was lying on the ground, a bruise swelling on his jaw. Standing over him was the second thug, his hand clenched in the fabric of Moira’s shirt as she pounded uselessly against him with her little fists. The thug smiled down at the old man, his grin twisted as he raised the sword. “You should have listened to us, Jack,” he growled.

“No!” Keith yelled. He had barely taken a single step, but he knew he couldn’t get there in time. He was too late.

The sword came down in a silver arc. There was a blur, and Moira fell to the ground. Something hit the ground beside her. Keith didn’t know what he just saw, blinking in confusion. Then his eyes took in the form of Lance, lying next to the child. His shirt was stained red.

Keith moved without thought, without sense. One moment he was standing there, gaping in horror, and the next he was beside the thug, his arms reeling back. The man turned towards him, eyes widening. Then the club smashed into his skull, a heavy thud ringing through the trees. The man went down, hitting the earth hard. He didn’t get back up. Keith stood above him, panting, club hanging limp from his hand.

It was Moira that snapped him back to the present moment, the child crying out as she ran into her grandfather's arms. Keith’s eyes darted to Lance. He couldn’t see his face with the other boy’s back towards him, but he could definitely see the bright red pool spreading around him.

Keith dropped to his knees beside the other boy, noting with fear how he wasn’t moving, his eyes shut. Frantically he reached out, grasping his shoulder and shaking. “Lance!”

The thief coughed quietly, and Keith let out a sigh of relief. Lance’s face twisted into a grimace. He spat out some blood before his eyes blinked open. “Ow,” he groaned.

Keith’s eyes darted to his wound next. He winced as he saw the deep gash on Lance’s side, blood flowing from it in rivulets. He reached down, ripping Lance’s shirt from where it got sliced open, giving him access to the wound. Lance reached out, weakly placing a hand on his leg.

“Dude, I’m flattered, but this is hardly the time,” he rasped out.

Keith sighed. “Must not hurt too bad if you can still run your mouth,” he said quietly.

“Feels pretty bad,” Lance replied, coughing slightly.

Keith dug around in his bag, pulling out the bandages and quickly binding them around Lance’s chest. He frowned when the blood soaked through them, adding another layer.

“Is Lance okay?”

The bounty hunter glanced up to find Moira standing there, staring at him with big eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” Keith said, voice wavering slightly. “We just need to get him to a healer. Are you or your grandfather hurt?”

“They punched grandpa in the face,” Moira replied.

“Will he be fine until we get into town?”

The little girl turned, her hand moving in complicated gestures. Her grandfather signed back, nodding his head. “Grandpa says he’s fine.”

“Okay,” Keith nodded. “Help him back into the cart.”

As the pair moved to do so, Keith glanced behind him. The thug he had knocked out was still laying there, but the other man had disappeared. Keith tensed, searching all around, but there was no sign of him. Swiftly, he got to his feet, dragging the remaining thug over to a tree and binding him there. He picked up his dagger on the way back to Lance, using it to slice open his restraints before lifting the other boy gingerly into his arms. Lance winced, hissing in pain.

“It’s okay,” Keith said quietly, brow furrowed. “We’re going to get you help.”

He laid Lance down in the cart, settling in beside him before turning towards the old man. “Drive fast.”

Moira thumped the side of the cart, Jack snapped the reigns, and they were off, pulled along as fast as the lumbering ox could go. Keith narrowed his eyes as he watched the thug disappear around a bend.

“Whatcha gonna do about him?” Moira asked, pointing back towards where the man had just been swallowed by trees.

“I’ll send the town guard to collect him later,” Keith said. He cast a worried glance down at Lance, who’s eyes had fallen shut once more.

“Are you okay?” Moira asked, poking the injured boy.

“Don’t touch him,” Keith said gently, ushering her hand away.

Lance smiled, slitting his eyes open. “I’m fine, princess,” he lied.

“Keep those eyes open,” Keith said, trying to make his voice sound stern. “You shouldn’t fall asleep when you’ve lost this much blood.”

Lance snorted halfheartedly. “Afraid you won’t get your bounty?” His sentence trailed off into a few harsh coughs.

Keith winced, although he didn’t reply. He clenched his hand into a fist, running his thumb back and forth across his knuckles. Back and forth. Back and forth.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew the forest was opening up, trees replaced by buildings and winding streets. Keith’s face erupted into a relieved grin.

“Lance, we’re here!” Keith called, glancing down at the other boy. Lance didn’t answer. His eyes were closed. “Lance,” Keith frowned, shaking his shoulder. “I told you not to fall asleep.” No answer. The blood had soaked through the bandages. “Lance?!”

Keith scooped the other boy into his arms, glancing frantically all around. “Where’s the healer?!” he exclaimed, voice tinged with panic. Moira pointed towards a lodge a little ways ahead, her eyes big and scared. Without another word Keith leapt out of the cart, racing towards the building with Lance in his arms. The other boy’s head hung limply, jerking with each of Keith’s footfalls.

Keith kicked open the door, everyone in the lodge glancing up at the sudden commotion. “I need help!” he cried out. A woman dressed in white robes rushed over, frowning down at the boy clutched in his arms.

“Lay him down there,” she instructed. Keith did as he was told, gently setting Lance on a vacant cot. Instantly Lance was swarmed by three of the white-robed people, Keith’s vision blocked as they flitted about. He hung back, leaning against one of the support pillars in the large room. His thumb ran across his knuckles. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Lance came awake slowly, a burning pain radiating from his side until it spread to the rest of him, tearing him from the sweet release of sleep. At first he wasn’t sure whether he was awake or still dreaming, his eyes blinking in the darkness. Then he turned his head to the side, eyes catching on a flash of white. Keith was there, slumped over in a stool next to Lance’s cot, his head pillowed in his arms. The moonlight trickling through the window made his skin shine silver in the darkness, his breath softly blowing against a strand of hair that had fallen in his face.

Lance snorted softly, reaching out to push the strand away. He winced in pain at the movement, the feeling distracting him just enough for it to be a complete surprise when he saw a pair of violet eyes looking back at him. Lance yelped, jerking backwards with another wince. For a moment he teetered dangerously on the edge of the cot, but Keith reached out, steadying him with a hand on his back.

Lance looked sheepishly at the other boy. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled. He searched for something, anything, to look at that wasn’t Keith’s dumb, pretty face. His eyes fell on a wreath of flowers, hung from one of the posts of his cot. “Awww, Keith, you shouldn’t have,” he teased.

“What?” Keith asked, brow furrowed. He followed Lance’s gaze to the flowers, eyes growing comically wide. His face erupted into flames, and he sputtered out,” N-no! I didn’t-” Lance burst out laughing, and Keith glared down at him, though there was no heat behind the gaze. “Moira and her grandfather came to visit you earlier. They brought the flowers,” Keith muttered.

Lance hummed in acknowledgment, reaching out to poke one of the petals. There was a long silence, neither boy knowing what to say. Lance could feel Keith’s eyes boring into him. He shifted uncomfortably before turning to look back. Keith’s eyes widened as he was caught staring. He glanced away for a moment, face heating up. Lance was about to do the same when Keith’s gaze locked on to his once more, something determined shining through. The moonlight caught in his eyes, making them sparkle like a pair of galaxies, far out of reach.

“Lance?” Keith whispered.

“Hmm?” Lance murmured, caught beneath those eyes.

“You’re free to go.”

Chapter Text

“What?” Lance asked.

“You’re free to go,” Keith repeated, his gaze steady.

“Just like that? What about the bounty? Or the weird justice thingy you’ve got going on?”

Keith frowned at that, his eyebrows scrunching together. “You saved that little girl’s life today, Lance. I’ve decided I may have-” he coughed awkwardly, an almost pained expression crossing his face, “-misjudged you.”

Lance just stared for a moment. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. Keith, on the other hand, looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon. “So, I’ve finally met your high standards, huh? If I’d known all I had to do was get stabbed, I’d have done it sooner!”

Keith leaned back, crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t have cared if you’d just gotten stabbed for the hell of it.”

“Awww, are you saying you cared?” Lance teased.

Keith’s eyes widened,his cheeks darkening. “What? No, I-!”

:Lance cut him off with a burst of laughter. Keith shot him a glare before the other boy broke off into a sharp cough, clutching at his side. The bounty hunter reached out, hesitating only a moment before placing his hand on Lance’s shoulder, his brows furrowed in worry.

Lance winced as he sucked breath back into his lungs. He looked up, giving Keith a weak smile. “See? You do care.”

Keith frowned, slowly pulling his hand back to cross his arms once more. “Think whatever you want,” he mumbled, not quite meeting Lance’s eye.

Lance layed back down gingerly, staring up at the ceiling. There was a moment of silence before he next spoke. “So, you off to catch more criminals then?”

“Not exactly,” Keith replied. “I need to stick around and find out what was going on with those thugs in the road.”

Lance rose up on his elbows, giving Keith a quizzical look. “It’s sweet of you to try and avenge my honor and all that, but isn’t this a bit above your pay grade?”

Keith gave him another glare. “They attacked a child and an old man. I can’t just walk away from this.”

“They also said they work for some guy who’s rich enough to build a road and hire a couple of thugs to do his bidding. That’s kind of a tall order for a bounty hunter, dude.”

“I’m not going to let innocent people suffer because I refused to act,” Keith snapped.

Lance stared at him for a long moment. Finally he flopped down, groaning as he rubbed his palms into his eyes. “Now I’m gonna have to make sure you don’t get killed!” he whined out.

“What?” Keith said, eyes widening in surprise. “No, I work alone.”

“Yeah, you did a stand up job of ‘working alone’ with James,” Lance griped. “And again with those two thugs back there. Really stellar stuff.”

Keith winced, his eyes catching on Lance’s wound before darting away. Lance caught the gaze, frowning as he reached out. His hand landed on Keith’s arm, the other boy’s eyes widening. He looked at the hand before glancing uncertainly to Lance.

“Hey,” Lance murmured, eyes gentle. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Keith looked away, gritting his teeth.

“Look, all I’m saying is that it doesn’t hurt to have some help every once in a while. Especially when you’re facing down some uber rich dude who probably owns half the town.”

“I’m fine on my own,” Keith said, voice flat. He didn’t meet Lance’s eyes.

Lance huffed in frustration. “Well you should’ve thought of that before you kidnapped me!”

“Arrested!” Keith snapped. The next thing he knew Lance was poking him right in the chest, leaning over to get in his face.

“You kidnapped me, and you’re not getting rid of me by trying to pull some noble ‘you’re free’ bullshit. I’m your problem now, buddy!” He finished off by giving Keith another hard jab in the chest, his eyes daring him to protest.

Keith snarled in frustration, smacking his hand away. “Just don’t get in my way,” he growled out.

“You know, you’re terrible at saying thank you,” Lance retorted.

“Wasn’t trying to,” Keith snapped back.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Lance flopped down dramatically, wincing as his back hit the cot. Keith almost reached out before thinking better of it, pulling his hand back. They sat there in awkward silence for a while. Keith was the first one to break it.

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with friends or something?”

Lance sighed. “They’re already going to kill me for being gone so long. What’s a few more days?”

Another awkward silence. Lance rolled over onto his uninjured side, crooking a brow at the bounty hunter. “So, were you gonna go stay at an inn, or-?”

“One of the criminals escaped,” Keith replied. “They could come looking for you here.”

Lance grinned, fanning himself with his hand. “My knight in shining armor.”

Keith only rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks.

“Seriously, I felt very safe when you were drooling all over my cot earlier.”

“I don’t drool!” Keith snapped.

“I’m afraid you do, tough stuff.”

The bounty hunter leveled Lance with a glare, but the other boy simply gave him an unimpressed gaze.

“Don’t worry, it’s kind of cute.”

Keith groaned, hiding his face in his palm. He cursed the way his cheeks heated up, grumbling out, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Lance snickered, squishing his cheek against the pillow. There was something soft in his eyes, something Keith didn’t dare to look at for too long.

“Go to sleep, Lance,” he murmured.

“You first,” Lance said, interrupted halfway through by a yawn. Keith rolled his eyes. “Here,” Lance lifted his head, sliding the pillow over to the edge. “It’s a fair trade. I get the cot, and you get to drool all over the pillow.”

“I don’t drool,” Keith grumbled. Still, he gratefully took the pillow, leaning over to rest his head on it. He glanced up, freezing when he realized how close the other boy’s face was. Lance blinked lazily, and Keith felt he could have counted every one of his eyelashes if he tried.

“Goodnight, Keith,” Lance whispered, his blue gaze disappearing behind those soft lashes.

Keith didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely even breathed as he watched the steady rise and fall of Lance’s chest. His skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, shining like embers in a fire. Silver beams gilded his lashes, hiding a pair of eyes that could pin Keith faster than any weapon. Keith swallowed thickly, just barely parting his lips as he breathed out, “Goodnight, Lance.”

“We better be headed to get some breakfast,” Lance griped, suppressing a yawn as the pair stepped out into the chilly morning air. “I haven’t eaten in forever.

“We’ll get breakfast after,” Keith said, setting off at a brisk pace.

“After what?” Lance called, scrambling to keep up.

“I need to check something first.”

Lance danced around in front of him, turning to walk backwards so he could face the bounty hunter. “Gotta say, I love your communication skills. Very eloquent with your words. So, you go do that, and I’ll go find a waffle.” He made to duck around Keith but the other boy reached out in a flash, grabbing his arm.

“One of the thugs escaped, remember? We need to stick together.”

“So now you’re my bodyguard?”

Keith growled in frustration. “If you think you can take on that guy while injured, then fine! Go get a waffle!” He released Lance, standing back and crossing his arms stubbornly. Lance glared at him a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

“I swear to god, Keith, if the very next thing on our list isn’t a giant stack of waffles-!”

Keith glanced down to hide the triumphant little smirk on his face, setting off again with a grumbling Lance in towe.

"What do you mean you released him?!”

The town guard frowned at Keith, standing in front of a very empty set of crude wood and iron cells. “We didn't have enough evidence to hold him,” the guard replied.

“Here’s your evidence!” Keith spat, yanking up Lance’s shirt to expose the bandages.

“Hey!” Lance squawked, hastily pulling the garment back down. “Not the time or place, dude!”

Keith ignored him, continuing to glare at the guard. “He attacked my, um-” he trailed off, glancing awkwardly to the side before settling on the words, “my companion. And he was trying to rob an old man and child! How is that not enough evidence?!”

The guard frowned at him. “I don’t think you get the way things are around here, stranger. That was Sullivan's man you brought in. Now, the best advice I can give you is to just move on.”

Keith snarled, stepping forward so he almost bumped heads with the other man. The guard's hand closed around the hilt of his sword, meeting Keith’s glare steadily. A few guards sitting at a nearby table turned to watch, one standing up from his chair.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey!” Lance exclaimed, placing a hand on Keith’s chest and gently pushing him back. “Sorry, he gets like this when he’s hungry,” he continued, giving the guard a good-natured smile. “How about that stack of waffles, buddy?” His hand closed in a death grip on Keith’s arm, pulling him back.

“What?” Keith asked, turning confused eyes on the other boy. “No, what’re-”

“Have a nice day!” Lance called, waving cheerily as he practically dragged Keith out of the guardhouse. Once outside Keith managed to shake him off, turning sharp eyes on him.

“What the hell was that?!”

“Look, you’re a tough guy, but even you can’t take on four dudes at once, especially when I’m not exactly in top form. So let’s go get some waffles, and we can figure out where to go from there.”

“Fine,” Keith growled, marching off towards the village square. Lance sighed before turning to follow him.

The pair approached the doors of a small Inn, the smell of fresh bread wafting out from inside. Keith was just about to push inside when Lance stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“What?” Keith asked.

“I was wrong about one thing,” Lance said, pointing upwards. Keith followed the gesture, his eyes catching on a small plaque fastened under the inn’s sign, declaring ‘PROPERTY OF LORD SULLIVAN BLAINE’ in big, bold letters. He glanced around, finding identical plaques on every building as far as the eye could see. Keith clenched his fist, rage sparking inside him. “It looks like this guy owns the whole town.”

Chapter Text

Warm, fluffy, delicious. Just the perfect amount of crispness, with a hint of butter and a flood of syrup. This is what Lance lived and fought for, what he aspired to reach, what-

“Are you even listening?”

Lance swallowed his mouthful of heaven, shooting Keith a glare over the towering stack of waffles. “I literally haven’t eaten in two days, mullet. Give me a break.”

He inhaled another waffle, the sugary goodness filling his mouth and-

“Lance!”

“Wug?!” he snapped around a mouthful of food.

Keith glanced around, making sure no one was watching them before he next spoke, his voice hushed. “I said we need to find a way to meet this Sullivan face to face.”

Lance swallowed, stabbing his fork into another fluffy delicacy. “What do you plan on doing when you see him?” he whispered.

“I’m not sure yet,” Keith murmured, fingers mindlessly twisting in the fabric of the hood he’d thrown over his head. “But something will have to be done about this. You can’t charge people to use roads in this kingdom, and you certainly can’t send thugs to terrorize people. I’m not going to let him get away with this.”

“Okay, cool,” Lance replied, “but what are you going to do? You’re one guy against some rich dude who we already know hires thugs. You’re outmatched.”

Keith growled down at his barely-touched food. “I’ll start by trying to reason with him.”

Lance huffed out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure that’ll go great. ‘Excuse me, Mr. Lord, sir? Could you please stop being a bully? Kay, thanks.’”

“I said I’ll start with reason,” Keith murmured darkly.

Lance raised a brow. “And end with murder?”

The bounty hunter glared at him. “I catch criminals, not join them. This man may have money, but he’s a criminal just like the rest.”

“So you’re going to try and arrest him? I’m not sure if you forgot, but that town’s guard back there made it very clear who was writing his paychecks.”

“He’ll have to be brought before the high court,” Keith replied. His fingers began drumming on the table. “He might be able to buy off the people in this town, but he can’t escape the King’s Law.”

“You’re going to take this dude all the way to the capital city?”

“If he doesn’t see reason, then yes.”

Lance sighed. He took his last bite of waffle, chewing slowly to savor it before swallowing. He fixed Keith with a serious gaze. “You realize how hard this is going to be, right? Kidnap this dude-”

“Arrest!”

“-and smuggle him out of the town he literally owns, then get him all the way to the capital without his thugs catching us? Hell, maybe even the whole town guard will be on our tails!”

“Don’t come if you aren’t up to the task,” Keith said, crossing his arms.

“Alright!” Lance leaned forward, his tail lashing behind him. “Listen here, wise guy. You’ve come up with this insane plan and you still think you can do it alone? You’re trying to kidnap-”

“Arrest!”

“Fine! Arrest! You are trying to arrest a lord! Who is so rich he owns an entire town and the loyalty of everyone in it. And you think you, Mr. Bigshot, can do this alone?”

“I’ve always done fine before I met you,” Keith growled out, glaring at the other boy.

“If I wasn’t here then you’re the one who would’ve gotten arrested just now! You tried to pick a fight with the town guard! I can work under pressure just fine. You blow your lid the second things get rough. So yeah, I can handle it. Can you?!”

Keith stood up abruptly, pushing the table back as he did. Lance froze, trapped beneath those burning eyes. Keith looked furious, but there was something else there just underneath. Something that looked foreign in the other boy’s fiery expression. Something like pain.

For a moment Lance was certain Keith would yell or flip the table. Instead, he clenched his fists, his hands shaking. His eyes flitted away and his voice came out soft. “Get out of here, Lance.” Then he left.

The former thief sat there for a moment, stunned. He heard the slam of the inn’s front doors, heard the chatter of the other guests. Then he scrambled to his feet, vaulting over the table and ignoring the angry exclamation from the innkeeper as he dashed out the door. Out in the street he spun around, eyes searching until they spotted a familiar head of black hair disappearing around a corner. He chased after it, skidding around the bend as he yelled out, “Keith!”

“I told you to leave!” the other boy called, not bothering to turn or even slow his pace.

Lance ran up to him, grabbing onto his arm as he said, “Keith, stop!”

“Let go!” Keith snapped, yanking his arm away as he rounded on the other boy. “You’re not here to help, Lance! I know my plan is flawed but what else am I supposed to do? Sit around until the next person is attacked?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“What are you saying, exactly?” Keith took a step forward, Lance shrinking back. “That I’m too violent? Too irrational? That I just can’t control myself?”

“What?” Lance asked, completely bewildered. He took another step back as Keith advanced forward. “No, what-”

“Not all of us can be thieves who just wait around for the perfect moment to rob someone blind! Some people act to help others, not to hurt them, or is that just too foreign a concept for you?!”

Lance’s back hit the alley wall, Keith just a breath away, his eyes blazing. Lance’s own gaze hardened, his hand landing on Keith’s chest. He pressed it firmly into the other boy, allowing his claws to just barely prick the skin. Not a scratch, but a warning. “Keith,” Lance hissed out. “I don’t know who hurt you in the past, but don’t you dare take that out on me.”

There was a pause. A moment of stillness. Then Keith’s eyes fell, his body turning. “Fuck you,” he breathed out, before walking away.

“Where are you going?” Lance called. Keith didn’t answer, didn’t even turn his head. “Keith!”

Lance cursed as he watched the other boy disappear around the bend.

“Excuse me, but I just came into town on the old road and I was wondering where I go to pay the tax to Lord Sullivan?”

Lance put on his biggest, most polite smile as he stared down at the elderly lady before him. She paused in her task of scraping a hide, squinting up at him. “Sullivan’s men handle the tax collecting,” the woman croaked out.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Lance laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you know where I can find them?”

She frowned in thought, her gnarled hand going back to scraping. “Well, some of them are always standing outside the gate of his house. You could ask them.”

“That’d be perfect!” Lance exclaimed. “You wouldn’t happen to have directions?”

“It’s the south side of town,” the woman rasped. “Biggest building in the whole place. Fanciest too. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you so much,” Lance said, starting to turn away.

“Don’t get visitors here much,” the woman continued. “Most folks don’t like visitors.”

Lance laughed nervously. “Well I’m glad I ran into a friendly lady like you, then.”

The woman fixed him with a sharp gaze. “Best watch yourself, stranger,” she said. “Folks don’t like visitors here.”

“Okayyy,” Lance replied, taking a step back. “Uh, thanks!”

He hurried quickly away from the woman, feeling her gaze on him until he turned the corner. His polite expression dropped like a curtain, a stormy look in his eyes. As far as Lance was concerned, Keith could go brood all he wanted. The angry mullet-head wasn’t going to stop him from getting intel on Sullivan. And once he’d found some useful information he’d go find Keith, tell him what he’d learned, and then they’d save the day and Keith would be so grateful that he’d promise to never be a dick again. It was a flawless plan.

The old lady wasn’t kidding. The mansion before Lance was huge, surrounded by a stone wall that normally would’ve been impossible to climb for anyone else. Luckily, Lance wasn’t anyone else. He grinned, eyeing the guards posted by the gate before quietly slinking around the wall until they were out of sight. Lance took a running leap at the wall, claws sinking into cracks in the stone as he swiftly scaled it. He poked his head over the top. There were a couple more guards standing near the mansion’s entrance, their backs turned to him. He vaulted over the top, hitting the ground in a roll before taking cover in a bush, scanning the sea of windows before him.

Lance wasn’t especially keen on breaking into here in broad daylight, but given Keith’s insistence on rushing in he figured he needed to get back to the other boy as soon as possible. Grumbling about his rash companion, Lance slunk from cover to cover, slowly approaching a window that was cracked open on the second floor. When he reached the house he checked once more to make sure the coast was clear before scrambling up its side, wrenching open the window and slipping in.

The room was dim, the only light coming from the window behind him. It appeared to be a study of some kind, lined with packed bookshelves and a heavy oak desk at its center. Lance couldn’t believe his luck, grinning to himself as he padded over to the desk. He rifled through the papers on top, searching for anything useful. Most of it was boring, just ledgers detailing the expenses of Sullivan’s estate. There was one, however, right at the bottom of the pile that listed those in debt for using the old road. Lance narrowed his eyes, snatching up the paper. He reached down, turning the edge of his shirt inside out and slicing open the hem with a claw. He then rolled the paper up tight before slipping it inside the shirt’s lining, safely out of sight.

Lance tried the desk drawers next, finding mostly junk like broken quills and unused paper scraps. Then he came upon one drawer, sealed shut behind a golden lock. Lance chuckled quietly to himself. This was almost too easy.

He slipped a claw inside the lock, twisting and pressing, his tongue caught between his teeth. There was a soft click, and Lance had to suppress the urge to cheer out loud. He was just reaching for the drawer’s handle when he heard a loud bang outside the room.

Lance instantly dove under the desk, curling up to make himself as small as possible. There was a commotion coming from down stairs; angry shouts. For a second he feared he’d been caught, his eyes darting to the window for his escape. Then he froze as he heard the voice of a child, crying out. There were the sounds of a struggle, more shouting, and then the noise began to fade.

Lance cursed under his breath. He wrenched the drawer open, grabbed a handful of random papers, and shoved as many into the lining of his shirt as he could fit. He shut the drawer, not bothering to re-lock it before slinking over to the door. He pressed his ear against the surface. There was no sign of anyone immediately outside it, and the noises from earlier were growing fainter with each passing second. Cautiously he pushed open the door, poking his head outside. Beyond he found a walkway above the mansion’s entrance hall, an elaborate staircase leading down to the ground floor. There was nobody in the room, but his ears traced the faint commotion from a door left ajar below him.

Lance crept out into the hall, heading down the stairs and up to that door. A narrow stone staircase greeted him, leading down into darkness. Lance cursed quietly, his tail lashing as he began his descent.

He made sure to keep the noises just barely in his hearing range, hanging back to avoid running into any trouble. The stairs led to a narrow stone corridor, deep enough that the former thief was certain they must be underground. The noise seemed to have stopped moving so Lance hung back in the hallway, biding his time. Suddenly a door burst open down the hall. Panicking, Lance leapt up the wall, wedging himself between a couple of wooden rafters on the corridor’s low ceiling. He held his breath as a couple of guards passed by underneath, one of them muttering out, “Stupid kid,” before the pair was gone.

Lance waited a little longer before he dropped down to the floor. He turned, his ears flicking as quiet sobs echoed down the hallway. Lance crouched low, sneaking along as he drew nearer and nearer to the noise. He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, the sounds coming from the other side. Lance slowly straightened up, ears flat as he peeked through the small, barred window set into the door. His eyes widened.

“Moira?”

“Lance!” the little girl gasped. She tried to run towards him but was yanked back by the chains around her wrists. Another sob broke out as she pulled against them. “Lance, please, help me!”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Lance whispered, casting a glance down the hallway. “I’ll get you out.”

He knelt down, inserting his claw into the lock. This one took longer than the desk drawer, his brows furrowed as he twisted his claw around. Finally there was a click, the heavy padlock popping open. Lance burst in, kneeling beside the child as he began to fiddle with her cuffs. Moira sniffled, fidgeting and tugging at the chains.

“Hold still,” Lance murmured gently. “It’ll be okay.” He glanced up at the child with a reassuring smile.

Instead of returning that smile Moira’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open to scream, “Look out!”

Lance spun around just in time for something heavy to collide with his skull. He staggered back, dropping to his knees as he clutched his throbbing head. Moira’s wailing was the last thing he heard before the ground surged up to meet him.

Chapter Text

Lance came awake slowly, drawn from his peaceful numbness by a terrible throbbing in his skull. He sat up, groaning, trying to bring a hand up to clutch at his head only to find something pulling it back. Squinting his eyes open, he registered the coolness of metal around his wrists before taking in the chains. Lance cursed, attempting to contort his hands to get his claws in the lock, but it was no use. He froze as a muffled sound filled the air, his ears pricking up. It was quiet sobbing, coming from the wall next to him.

“Moira?” Lance called.

“Lance!” the little girl sniffled. “Are you alive?”

“I think,” he replied, wincing as another wave of pain ricocheted through his head. “Are you alright?”

“I’m scared,” Moira said, her voice hitching.

“It’s alright,” Lance told her. “My, uh, my friend. Keith. He’s gonna get us out.”

Lance could only hope that was true. Keith was bound to show up to confront Sullivan at some point, but he had no idea either of them were here. He could easily storm in, grab Sullivan, and leave without ever knowing the two of them were down here. Or maybe his dumb plan wouldn’t work and he’d just be thrown in this dungeon with them. Lance’s tail lashed in frustration.

“I miss my mom,” Moira sniffled. “I miss grandpa, and dad!”

“Where is your grandpa?” Lance asked, worry curling in his stomach.

“I don’t know! They hit grandpa and took me away. I don’t know if they took him too!”

“Your grandpa is gonna be fine,” Lance said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Do you know why they took you?”

“The mean men said it was because grandpa hasn’t paid his road tax. They said they were gonna keep me here until he pays up!”

Lance growled low at that. “I won’t let that happen,” he promised. “Moira, do-”

Lance’s question was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor outside. Lance snapped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth as he waited. He could hear Moira whimper in the next cell over.

The footfalls stopped right outside his door, a rather unfriendly face peeking in through the little barred window. The door swung open with a rusty creak and three men stepped in. Lance winced as he recognized two of them.

“That’s him,” the thug said. “This asshole jumped in front of my sword.”

The second thug stepped forward, bringing a boot up and using it to shove Lance back into the wall. “You don’t make a very good pin cushion, do you?” The thug sneered down at him. He pressed his boot right over Lance’s wound, making him cry out as pain shot through him.

“Leave him alone!” Moira called, her voice watery.

The third thug, a man Lance hadn’t seen before, smashed his fist into the wall. “Can it, princess!”

Lance’s mind raced. He needed to keep their attention on him so they didn’t hurt the child. “Missed me?” he spoke up, managing to smirk around a pained wince. “Personally I was hoping to never see your ugly mugs again.”

“Mouthy, huh?” the thug still pressing into his wound replied. He removed his foot only to grab Lance’s jaw, squeezing hard enough to sting. “Bet you won’t have much to say when we cut out your tongue.”

“Stop it!” Moira screeched. Lance watched as the thug turned, opening his mouth to yell back. His grip slackened and without a moment’s hesitation Lance bit down hard on the man’s thumb. The thug screamed in pain, yanking his hand back but not before Lance drew blood.

Next thing Lance knew a foot was connecting with his stomach. He wheezed, doubling over. Another blow landed on his head, whipping it to the side as his ears rang. Blow after blow fell, many of which targeted the wound that had now begun to bleed through his shirt. Blood erupted from his nose after a hit glanced off his jaw, trailing down his face.

“Stop!” A voice called out. “We still have to question him.”

Lance glanced up through bleary eyes to find the two thugs pulling back the one he’d bit. “When you’re done I’m going to cut him into fucking pieces!” the man snarled.

The second thug came forward, kneeling down in front of Lance. Lance blinked, trying to clear the haze of pain. Just then fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head up as he hissed.

“Where’s your partner?” the man growled. “He gave us an awful lot of trouble. Should’ve minded his own business.”

“Leave him alone!” Moira sobbed from the other room. This time she was ignored.

“You really want to know?” Lance asked.

The man bared his teeth, tightening his grip in Lance’s hair and yanking even harder. “The longer you take to tell us the worse it’ll be for you.”

Lance winced from the agonizing pressure on his scalp. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you!” He paused, taking a moment to catch his breath. The three men looked down at him expectantly, Lance’s gaze flitting to each one before focusing on the thug in front of him. “The truth is,” he paused, a grin spreading across his face. “He’s with your mom!”

Before the man had time to react Lance spat in his face, baring his teeth in a snarl. The one Lance bit earlier started forward, but the closest one held up his hand to stop him. Slowly, he reached up and wiped the bloody spittle from his cheek. He held eye contact with Lance, his expression blank. His hand reached behind him, palm open.

“Lend me your sword.”

Lance’s heart rate picked up, but he refused to flinch as he continued to glare straight into the man’s eyes. A blade was handed to the thug. He released Lance’s hair only to grasp his jaw, crushing it in his grip. He held the sword up to the ex-theif’s mouth, face still blank. Lance’s breath hitched.

“You seem to think you’re awfully funny, so why don’t we start by giving you a smile?”

Moira was screaming something but Lance couldn’t hear her. His ears were ringing, his mind sluggish yet jagged. His eyes widened as he felt the blade against his skin, a drop of blood trailing down from the corner of his mouth.

The door burst open. There was a blur of movement, the sword disappearing from Lance’s face. He collapsed to the ground, gasping and shaking. There were several grunts, the sounds of a struggle, followed by heavy thuds. Two hands grasped onto his shoulders, pulling him up until his vision was filled with Keith. Lance blinked for a moment, taking him in. Then he smiled.

“Took you long enough.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Keith snapped. His brows were furrowed, but there wasn’t any anger in his eyes. He yanked up Lance’s shirt to inspect the damage. Lance had to bite back a comment at that, remembering the child in the other room. “Shit,” Keith whispered. He cupped Lance’s face then, eyes scanning over it. Lance froze, his own eyes widening, pulled in by Keith’s violet gaze. He swallowed.

Keith’s thumb landed on the corner of his mouth, the slight pressure stinging as he wiped the blood from the small cut. “You idiot,” he murmured, still no heat in his gaze. “Why’d you provoke them?”

Lance shook himself, wincing at the movement. “Had to keep them busy,” he said, his voice strained. “Couldn’t let them hurt Moira.”

Keith closed his eyes and sighed. Lance found himself captivated by the contrast of dark lashes against pale cheeks. When his eyes opened again Lance got lost in a violet sea. “I never should have left you,” Keith whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Again Lance had to shake himself to focus on Keith’s words and not his dumb pretty face. He shrugged, the movement making him wince. “You couldn’t have known I’d get captured.”

“Not just that,” Keith continued. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, buddy,” Lance replied. The two just gazed at each other for a moment, eyes unwavering. Keith had an expression on his face that Lance couldn’t quite place. It was solid, firm, yet somehow gentle. He’d never seen the other boy look like that before, and he felt himself being drawn in.

They were snapped back to reality by the sounds of Moira’s sniffles next door. Keith’s hands fell away from his face, and Lance tugged against his chains. “We’ve gotta get out of here,” Lance said. “Check one of those douchebags and see if they have any keys on them.”

Keith nodded, stepping back to search the thugs, all three out cold on the floor. Lance couldn’t help the small grin on his face. He wished he hadn’t been too busy kissing dirt to see how Keith had kicked their collective asses. A moment later the bounty hunter pulled out a key ring, kneeling by Lance and unlocking his chains. Keith helped him up, Lance wincing. He limped out into the hallway beside Keith, the latter trying several keys until he found the one that worked for Moira’s cell. Keith knelt beside her, working on her cuffs as Lance slumped in the doorway.

Lance caught the little girl’s teary eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “We’ll get you back to your grandpa.”

The cuffs sprang open and Keith helped the sniffling child up. He led her over to Lance, who reached out to take her hand. Keith locked eyes with him then, pressing the key ring into his palm. “Get Moira out,” he said. There was a spark in those purple irises, threatening to ignite at any moment. “I’m going after Sullivan.”

Keith brushed past him before Lance even had the time to process his words. He whipped around, gasping in pain. “Keith!” Lance whisper-shouted. “Keith wait!” The other boy didn’t even turn, dashing down the corridor before disappearing up the stairs. “Damn it,” Lance growled.

“Lance,” Moira sniffled out. “I’m scared.”

Lance looked down at her, squeezing her hand. “Everything’s okay,” he lied. “Let’s get you out of here.”

It was simple enough to slip out a first story window and make their way across the grounds. It was the wall that posed a problem. An hour ago Lance could’ve scaled it with only some aching from his former wound. Now, however, it posed a rather significant problem. Lance clutched at his side, feeling the dampness of blood meet his palm.

“Right,” he breathed out. “Moira, I’m gonna have to throw you.”

She turned to stare up at him with big eyes. “What?”

“It’s the only way. I’m not going to be able to get over it like this.”

“I don’t want to go alone,” Moira whimpered. “What if the bad men come for me again?”

Lance knelt down, getting on her level. “They can’t get you if you're careful. As soon as you’re on the other side of the wall, you need to run really fast. Don’t let anyone see you, not even the villagers. Just run until you get home, okay?”

“Come with me,” Moira pleaded, tugging at his hand.”

Lance sighed. “I can’t. I have to go back for Keith. You have to be brave, Moira. Can you do that for me?”

A tear rolled down the little girl’s cheek, but she nodded, squeezing Lance’s hand.

“Alright. Now, I’m gonna toss you up there. You have to grab onto the wall, then jump down to the other side and run, okay?”

Moira nodded again. “Promise me you won’t get hurt anymore,” she whispered.

Lance gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll try.”

With that, he scooped her up into his arms, gritting his teeth against the pain. Mustering every bit of strength he still had, he tossed her into the air. Moira’s little legs flailed until she reached the wall, arms scrambling to grasp on. She pulled herself up, glancing back down at him. Lance smiled as bright as he could, nodding his head. Then she was gone, disappearing over the edge. He sighed, posture slumping from exhaustion and what was quite possibly an unhealthy amount of blood loss. Lance turned back towards the mansion, jaw clenched. It was time to find Keith.

The guards hadn’t been expecting any more intruders that day. It had been easy for Keith to take them out as he snuck through the halls. It had been even easier to find Sullivan. All he had to do was follow the mansion’s opulence to it’s heart: Sullivan’s private quarters. And there Keith stood, his blade pressed against a gasping throat, knuckles clenched white around the hilt as his vision went red at the edges. Before him was a man who exploited his own people. Who hired others to do the dirty work, who turned a town’s protectors into his own private guard, who kidnapped a child. Keith could barely even focus on Sullivan’s face, blood rushing through his ears as his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Gold!” Sullivan choked out. “Jewels! Women! Anything you want! Anything, it’s yours! Just lower your blade and-”

Keith growled, pressing the dagger forward enough to draw the first few drops of blood. Sullivan wheezed, eyes widening in panic.

“Anything!”

“Shut up!” Keith spat. “Lord Sullivan, you are under arrest. I am taking you to the high court, where you will stand trial for-”

“You’re not here to kill me,” Sullivan interrupted. It wasn’t stated as a question. Something flickered in his eyes.

Before Keith had time to say another word, pain erupted in his shin. He yelped, bending down as Sullivan tore away from his grasp, scrambling for the door. Cursing, Keith ran after him. He managed to catch the hem of the man’s velvet robes, pulled him down to the floor and wrestling to pin him. It was clear Sullivan had never been one to fight his own battles. His frame was wiry and he moved with no skill or strategy, yet he squirmed enough to give Keith trouble. They rolled into a table, knocking it over and spilling papers across the floor. A lantern crashed down, glass shattering as the flames began to lick at the rug beneath.

Eyes wide with panic, Sullivan snatched up a glass shard and slashed it across Keith’s arm. Keith hissed in pain, hands faltering as Sullivan used that moment to kick him off and scramble away. “Guards!” he bellowed as he dashed out the doors.

Growling, Keith leapt up after him, reaching for the bola on his belt. He skidded into the hall, throwing the bola after the escaping lord. It tangled easily around Sullivan’s feet, bringing him crashing to the ground as Keith leapt on top of him.

“Guards!” Sullivan screamed again. He thrashed beneath Keith while the bounty hunter tied his wrists behind his back.

“Get off me you filthy lizard!”

Keith bared his teeth, cinching the ropes even tighter.

“Ow!”

“Boss!”

Keith’s head snapped up, eyes widening as he took in three men charging down the hall, one with a crossbow aimed right at him. He just barely managed to leap out of the way as the bolt shot passed, embedding itself in the wood paneling behind him.

“That’s mahogany!” Sullivan screamed, face turning an unpleasant shade of crimson.

“Sorry, boss,” the thug said sheepishly.

Keith charged, ducking another bolt before he got within striking range. He kicked the weapon out of the man’s hands, the crossbow soaring through the air before landing somewhere behind them. Keith’s dagger came around swiftly, only to be blocked by a sword as the second thug stepped forward.

“It’s you!” the man growled, throwing his weight forward and making Keith stumble back. “You’ve smashed my head in twice now!”

Keith frowned. He’d been hoping these guys would stay down longer.

The thug struck with his sword, Keith managing to parry it. He had to leap back as the other unarmed man swung a fist at him. Next thing he knew a club was smashing down, splintering the floorboards where he’d been standing only moments before.

“Mahogany!” Sullivan shrieked from where he still lay bound on the floor.

Keith grit his teeth. This wasn’t good. He could take down these three when he had surprise on his side, but now his odds weren’t so good. His thoughts broke apart the sword sliced towards him, forcing him to leap back yet again. He shot a frantic glance towards Sullivan, watching as the unarmed thug doubled back to aid his leader. The man knelt down, untying Sullivan’s binds.

“No!” Keith yelled, lashing out with his dagger. He was blocked by the sword, the club skimming him as he dodged just in time. Keith was left scrambling to keep up, only just barely managing to block or dodge one weapon before the other was coming at him. He snarled, his blade slicing across one thug’s cheek as he took advantage of the opening it left him. He tried to duck around the man, but the move had been too brazen. The club collided with his side, knocking him hard into the wall. He wheezed as the breath was crushed from his lungs, clutching at his ribs.

Before he had time to pull himself up his dagger was kicked from his hands, a fist closing around his shirt collar and yanking him face to face with the sword wielding thug. The man sneered down at him, his blade pressed to Keith’s throat.

“Kill him!” Sullivan shrieked, scowling as he smoothed down his wrinkled robes.

“Gladly,” the thug replied, smirking as Keith snarled up at him. Keith reeled back his leg to kick but suddenly the other thug was beside him, helping pin the bounty hunter in place. The men wore matching grins as the sword pressed into Keith’s skin. Just then there was a hissing sound. The thug turned his head, eyes widening.

“What the-?”

Keith’s brow furrowed as he glanced over. The wall beside them was rapidly turning black, smoke rising off of it. Suddenly flames burst forth, crackling from floor to ceiling.

“My wallpaper!” Sullivan screamed.

The club wielding thug looked frantically to the one holding the sword. “Finish him so we can get out of here!”

The sword-thug turned back to Keith, face now colored with panic instead of malice. He drew his arm back, the weapon arcing through the air as Keith froze. The cold numbness of terror took over as Keith’s world seemed to slow, his body locking up, helpless to do anything but watch as the sword inched ever downwards to his throat. His whole world shattered.

Quite literally, something shattered, shards reigning down around the thug’s head in a jagged halo. For a moment the man swayed, eyes hazy, before toppling over onto the floor. Behind him was Lance, chest heaving, shirt soaked in blood, and a wild look in his eyes.

“My vase!” Sullivan wailed from somewhere behind him. “You’ll pay for that!”

Lance snarled, claws swiping at the remaining thug. The man yelped, scrambling back and out of the way. Keith caught sight of the third thug, running forward to try and tackle Lance from behind. The bounty hunter growled as he kicked out, tripping the man and sending him crashing into the one Lance had just drove away. The pair collapsed into a pile on the floor, cursing and groaning.

“Useless!” Sullivan called out. “Get them!”

Keith took the hand Lance offered him, letting himself be pulled to his feet as he turned to face the two men. The pair managed to untangle themselves, getting up off the floor. For a moment the thugs stood there, wide eyes flickering between the two intruders and the flames licking ever higher up the walls. Finally, the club wielding thug lunged forward, Keith bracing himself. However, instead of attacking he stooped down, grabbing the one Lance had smashed a vase over and dragging him backwards and away from them. The third thug came forward to help, all three of them retreating down the hallway.

“Get back here!” Sullivan shrieked. “Cowards! I’ll have you hung from the rafters!”

The men ignored him, disappearing around the bend. It was then that Keith turned, teeth bared as Sullivan shrunk back. The lord began spin on his heel, ready to take off running, but Keith never gave him the chance. He tackled Sullivan to the floor, growling as he yanked the man’s head up by his hair only to slam it back down.

“Keith!” Lance called from somewhere behind him. It was hard to make out his voice over the roar of the flames. “We have to go!”

Keith growled, leaning down to snarl in Sullivan’s face. “Where is he?” he yelled.

Sullivan flinched, eyes wide. “Who?”

“Keith!” Lance cried again.

The hallway was filling with smoke.

“Zarkon!” Keith yelled. “Where is he!”

Sullivan stared up at him with wide eyes. Keith growled in frustration, yanking him up by the hair again. “Tell me now, or I’ll-!”

His words were cut off as Sullivan burst out laughing. Keith blinked, staring down at him in bewilderment.

“Keith, we’ve got to get out of here!” Lance called.

Keith didn’t even glance over his shoulder, all his attention focused on the man who had gone from cowering to sneering up at him. “You’ll what? You’ll kill me?” Sullivan barked out. “Foolish boy! If I tell you I’m dead anyways. There’s nothing you could do against him! You’re as good as dead already for even speaking his name!”

He broke off into more cackling, Keith’s gaze hardening. He raised his fist, ready to bring it down.

“Keith, watch out!”

Something splintered above him, Keith’s head snapping up as he watched the flaming rafter come down. He dove back, feeling the heat from the fire as it crashed just inches from him. Keith scrambled up again, squinting through the bright flames. On the other side Sullivan staggered to his feet, laughing like a mad man as he turned to dash down the hallway. Keith snarled, taking a step towards him, ignoring the heat that seared into his skin. Then a hand landed on his shoulder, halting him. He turned to find blue eyes, flames dancing in them.

“Keith, we need to go, now!”

Keith looked at Lance. He looked at the man who he’d met only days ago. The man who had talked his ear off and gave him no end of trouble. The man who had saved him from James, who’d thrown his own body between a child and sword, who’d stuck by him even when he thought Keith’s plan was crazy, when Keith told him to leave, when he had the chance to escape from that prison cell. And yet he’d stayed. He’d come back and he’d stayed. Keith grit his teeth. He looked at the fire all around them, then looked at the blue depths of Lance’s eyes. He chose the latter.

Chapter Text

Lance coughed as smoke filled his lungs. He clutched his side, his shirt damp from the blood of his reopened wound. Everything stung, his body aching, his eyes watering from the ash that floated like snow through the air. It took all his strength to put one foot in front of the other, all his focus to keep moving forward. More blood. His vision swam. His next step had him stumbling, the world teetering around him. Suddenly Keith was there, slinging his arm around Lance and guiding forward. Lance leaned his weight into him, feeling the exhaustion press down on him like lead. The world blurred in and out of focus in bursts of bright orange and shadowy blacks. They crashed through the front doors, clean air blissfully flowing into his lungs. Lance took a breath, his surroundings morphing into pinpricks of color and light. Then the ground shifted beneath him, rising up to swallow him whole.

Lance woke up to soft cotton and fading light. He blinked his eyes open, registering something cool and damp on his forehead. Keith’s face came into focus, staring down at him with curved brows.

“S’wer are we?” Lance slurred out, his voice scratchy.

Keith frowned. He disappeared from Lance’s view for a moment before returning with a mug. “Drink this,” he murmured, holding it up to Lance’s lips. Lance tilted his head up, closing his eyes as the crisp water slid down his aching throat.

He finished the cup, moving to sit up. Lance grimaced as a wave of pain washed over him. A hand landed on his chest, pushing him back down.

“You shouldn’t move,” Keith said. Lance blinked his eyes open to stare up at the other boy once more. “You’ll aggravate your wounds.”

“Where are we?” Lance repeated.

“Moira’s family’s cottage. I was carrying you away from the village and they found us along the road.” Keith paused for a moment, eyes studying Lance. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned. “I’ll go get you some food.” With that he was gone, Lance listening to his retreating footsteps.

Despite Keith’s earlier warning, Lance took that opportunity to sit up, groaning in pain as his side burned. He glanced down to find fresh bandages around the wound. A damp washcloth fell from his forehead and into his lap. Lance leaned back against the headboard, taking in his surroundings. He was in a wood frame bed in what appeared to be the attic of the cottage. The bed was the only piece of furniture, with crates and barrels taking up the rest of the space. The air carried the various aromas of the herbs hanging above him, their scent a welcome change from the smoke he’d been choking on before.

Just then Keith reappeared up a rickety set of spiral stairs, carrying a tray. He frowned when he saw Lance sitting up, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I thought I told you not to move,” Keith huffed.

Lance ignored him, eyeing the tray instead. “Smells delicious,” he commented, beaming. Keith sighed, placing the tray on his lap. It contained a steaming bowl of soup and a large piece of bread. Lance clapped his hands together, wincing at the movement. “Man, am I ever starving!”

Keith’s brows raised as the other boy began to dig in. “You just ate a whole stack of waffles this morning.”

“Saving ur’ butt is hungry worg,” Lance muttered around a mouthful of bread.

Keith’s brows raised even further, a corner of his lips tugging up in what looked suspiciously close to a smile. “I’m pretty sure I was the one who saved you this time.”

Lance shrugged, swallowing down his food. “You saved me first. Then I went back and saved you from a fiery death. You’re welcome, by the way.” He shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth, groaning in bliss as it melted on his tongue.

Keith let out a huff, but it was more from fondness than anything else. He took the washcloth from Lance’s lap, dipping it in a basin of water set on a nearby crate. He carefully wrung out the cloth before pressing it back to Lance’s head, holding it in place so it wouldn’t fall off.

Lance paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth, his cheeks heating up. “Um, I don’t have a fever,” he said.

“You did earlier,” Keith told him, a worried crease to his brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You were out for a long time. I was-” Keith trailed off, glancing away. The crease between his brows deepened. “I’m sorry again. About what I said. I was just taking my anger out on you and you didn’t deserve that.”

Lance waved his hand dismissively, trying to focus his attention on the delicious soup and not the hand still very much pressed to his forehead. “It’s fine. Ancient history now.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith continued, voice urgent. “It wasn’t right. I-” He trailed off, glancing away. Lance waited patiently, taking another bite of bread. “I know you’re a good person. You helped me even when I was your enemy and you’ve saved Moira’s life twice now. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think that you don’t care, I… I’m sorry.”

Lance frowned, reaching out to place a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith jumped slightly at the touch, eyes widening as he met Lance’s gaze. “Really buddy, it’s okay. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, you were a total dick,” Keith snorted at that, “but I know you didn’t mean it. We’re all good, okay?”

Keith’s gaze flitted back and forth between Lance’s eyes, his lips pressed together. After a moment he nodded, murmuring out, “Okay.”

Lance smiled, turning back to his soup. “Have you tried this? It’s magic in a bowl!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Lance jumped, glancing up to find three people had ascended the stairs. He recognized Moira, and the man and woman standing behind her were presumably her parents.

“Lance!” Moira cried out, running towards the bed.

She jumped up, wrapping him in a big hug that would’ve been adorable if it didn’t dig right into his wound. “Ow, hi Moira, ow, ow!”

“Careful!” Keith said, gently pulling the little girl back. “He’s still healing.”

“Sorry,” Moira said sheepishly, taking Lance’s hand instead.

The woman stepped forward, a smile on her face. “I’m Grace,” she said. “And this is my husband, Mark."

“That’s soup’s a secret family recipe,” Mark said with a wink. “Nothing better for a cold or fever.”

“Well, my compliments to the chef,” Lance said with a smile. Mark took a mock bow.

Grace stepped forward then, her eyes beginning to tear up. “We want to thank you both so much for saving our little girl.”

“Thank you!” Moira piped up, swinging Lance’s hand in her own.

“Of course!” Lance replied, beaming at the little girl. “I’ve always wanted to rescue a princess and now my dream’s come true!”

Moira giggled, smiling in delight.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Mark spoke up. “All we have is yours.”

“Thank you,” Keith replied, a small smile on his face. “That’s very kind.”

Grace turned to him then, still teary eyed. “Jack told us how you stood up for him on the road into town. No one stands up to Sullivan’s men around these parts. You’re very brave.”

Lance had the pleasure of watching Keith’s cheeks turn pink, the bounty hunter glancing away like he didn’t know what to do with the praise. While it was endlessly amusing to see the notorious badass at a loss for words, Lance took pity on him and spoke up. “Where is grandpa Jack? Moira said he was with her when she got kidnapped. Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Grace replied with a smile. “He just can’t make it up these stairs anymore. He’s probably sneaking a second helping of soup while we’re all up here.”

“Is there anything you boys will need for the night?” Mark asked. “More blankets? A pitcher of water?”

“We should be fine,” Keith replied, now recovered from his earlier speechlessness. “I was wondering where I would be sleeping, though?”

Grace gave him an apologetic smile. “That bed is the only spare one we have. Since you two travel together I hope it won’t be too bad to share.”

Keith and Lance looked down at the bed. Then at each other. Then the bed. Lance was the first to speak.

“Uh, yeah! Totally fine. It’s nice and comfy.” He made sure to absolutely, under no circumstances, meet Keith’s eyes. Just two bros sharing a bed. That was fine. It would be fine.

“I want to share, too!” Moira piped up,starting to crawl under the blankets.

“Moira,” Mark scolded, “there’s not enough room for three people. And speaking of which, it’s just about your bedtime, young lady. Now, you let these gentlemen get some rest. I’ll tuck you in.”

“Okay,” Moira said, her voice disappointed. In a flash she leaned over and pecked Lance on the cheek, grabbed Keith’s hand and gave it a squeeze, then hopped down and skipped over to her dad. “Goodnight!” she called as she headed down the stairs.

Keith was frozen, seemingly unsure of what to do. Lance beamed, waving as he called, “Night, princess!” after her.

There was a moment of silence between the three left in the room.Then Grace crossed over to the bed, taking Keith and Lance’s hands in each of her own. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Thank you so much.”

With that she turned on her heel and left, already down the stairs before Lance could even formulate a response. He turned towards Keith, finding the other boy still frozen, his wide eyes fixed on the place where Grace had just been.

“Earth to Keith,” Lance snickered, waving his hand in front of Keith’s face. The bounty hunter leaned back, shooting Lance a glare that had no heat behind it. “You good?” Lance asked.

“Just not used to that,” Keith muttered, eyes flitting away.

“Save a few more kids and I’m sure that’ll happen more often.”

There was a pause then. The sun had now sunk beneath the horizon, it’s last rays fading from the little window over the bed. For a long moment neither boy moved, the reality of their situation sinking in. Suddenly Keith straightened up, grabbing a pillow and one of the blankets folded at the edge of the bed. He got up, crossing over to one side of the room.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Lance asked, watching as he threw the pillow down onto the floor.

“Getting some sleep,” Keith replied. His back was to Lance, and he didn’t bother turning around when he spoke.

“I thought the whole deal was that we’re sharing the bed?”

“I-I’ve never-” Keith trailed off, letting out a sigh. “It’ll probably be more comfortable to sleep separate.”

Lance quirked a brow, voice coming out deadpan. “It’ll be more comfortable on the floor?” When Keith didn’t respond he continued, “Look, there’s plenty of room. I’m sure it won’t kill us to share a bed for the night. I had to share a bed with my siblings pretty much my entire life! It’s not so bad.”

Keith glanced uncertainly over his shoulder. His ears were bright red. “But, your injuries-”

“Dude, you’re the one who’s gonna get injured if you try and sleep on that hard floor. Seriously, your spine’s gonna be all messed up.”

Keith glanced down, biting his lip. Lance may have gotten lost there for a second as he watched the way his incisors caught on the pink skin. He shook himself, ignoring the burning in his face as he held the blankets open.

“C’mon, Keith,” he spoke up. “I don’t bite.” Keith hesitated a moment more before picking his pillow up off the floor. Lance waited until he’d sat on the edge of the mattress before adding, “Usually.” He got a pillow in the face for that remark, but it was worth it to see the bright crimson of Keith’s own face.

The other boy settled beneath the blankets gingerly, as if Lance were made of glass and would shatter at the slightest touch. Lance rolled onto his side only to find Keith right there, mere inches away. He froze, breath catching in his throat at the same time that Keith’s eyes widened. For a moment neither moved, just staring at each other. Then Keith’s brows furrowed, his mouth drawing down into a frown. He reached out, thumb brushing the corner of Lance’s lips. Lance nearly choked, his skin on fire as he stared at Keith with wide eyes. Keith’s eyes widened then too, and he pulled his hand back as though it had been burned.

“Th-there was some blood!” he stuttered out, his cheeks turning bright pink. “The cut. It, um, it must’ve opened up while you were eating.”

Lance reached up, feeling the scar left from when the thug had threatened him with a sword. He tried to ignore the way Keith’s eyes were fixed on his lips. He was just looking at the cut, Lance reasoned. That’s all it was.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” he managed to murmur out. There was another pause, both boys’ eyes darting away, refusing to look at each other yet so close they didn’t really have much else they could look at. Lance cleared his throat, deciding the best course of action was to flip onto his other side before he got heart palpitations. “Goodnight, Keith,” he called over his shoulder, burying his blushing face into the pillow.

“Goodnight Lance,” Keith whispered. His voice was so soft, carrying through the dark room like a song. He could hear every one of Keith’s breaths, feel every shift he made in the bed. This was going to be a long night.

“My lord.”

Sullivan’s voice shook, his entire frame quaking where he stood in the shadowy room. “I believe the news of my estate has reached you?”

“Yes.”

The voice that spoke was deep and grating, sending Sullivan into another wave of trembling. It seemed to be emanating from the dark recesses of the room, it’s source impossible to pinpoint.

“You let yourself be bested by two children.”

“They were older than that, sir.” Sullivan’s voice came out as a squeak. “Young adults, I’d say-”

“By a pair of fools,” the man continued over him. “A couple of nobodies who wandered into the town that I trusted you with. The town that was my foothold into the Kingdom of Terra.”

“W-we could still take it back!” Sullivan spoke up. “Two people can’t take on a whole armed guard! We could-”

“Your men have fled, your manor is burned to the ground, and the townspeople aren’t going to welcome back the man who taxed them so heavily.”

“Y-you ordered me to decree those taxes!”

“Yes, I did,” the voice continued. It’s tone was eerily smooth. “Those taxes had value to me, just as you had value to me when you still held power.”

“My lord,” Sullivan squeaked out. “I have much to offer you! I give you my purpose, my life! Whatever you command of me, I shall do it!”

“Whatever I command?” the voice asked.

Sullivan’s eyes flitted around, taking a few steps back as he tried to determine where the speaker was. “Anything! I am forever at your service, sire!”

Just then there was a flash of movement. Sullivan screamed, flinching back, but it was too late. Massive claws pierced straight through his chest, the figure wielding them lifting him clean off the ground. Sullivan gurgled weakly as blood dripped down from his mouth, his fingers running numbly over where the claws impaled him. A beam of light caught in the dark figure’s eyes, flashing yellow.

“I command you to die!” the figure growled out. It flung it’s arm to the side, Sullivan sent flying. He smashed into a wall, slumping limply to the ground. Blood pooled around him. His eyes were dull and blank, staring yet seeing nothing. The figure brought it’s claws up towards it’s face, studying the blood there. It’s own eyes narrowed to slits.

“Useless.”

Chapter Text

“Keith?”

“Hmm?”

“Who’s Zarkon?”

Keith winced, rolling onto his back. “I thought you were asleep,” he whispered.

“Can’t sleep,” Lance replied. “Every time I move it pulls on the wound.”

Keith frowned up at the ceiling, brows curved in sympathy.

“Who’s Zarkon?”

Keith sighed. “A very evil man. I’m looking for him.”

“Well I could guess that much,” Lance scoffed. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I catch criminals, remember.”

“You know, bounty hunters are supposed to catch tax evaders and petty thieves. Maybe an escaped prisoner or two. Not go after lords and whatever mysterious big and bad this Zarkon is.”

Keith’s frown deepened. He didn’t answer.

“Why do you want to catch this guy anyway?”

Still no answer. Keith’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into shaking fists.

Lance sat up, hissing slightly in pain. He stared down at Keith, a furrow in his brows. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Look, it’s personal, okay?” Keith snapped, turning his head away.

“Alright, geez! It’d just be nice to know something about the guy we’re after.”

Keith quirked a brow, glancing over at Lance. “We’re?”

Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You don’t seriously still think you’re getting rid of me, do you?”

“Why do you want to stay?”

Lance glanced away then, thankful for the darkness hiding the pink tinge of his cheeks. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

Keith snorted at that.

“Okay, fine! Someone’s gotta save your sorry butt when you get in trouble!”

“Because I’m the only one who ever gets into trouble.”

“Touche. I would perhaps be willing to accept the occasional butt-saving should I ever find myself in a bad situation.”

Keith’s lips quirked up. “How generous of you.”

“I’m a giving man,” Lance replied before slumping back down. He winced as he hit the mattress. Keith’s smile faded to a worried frown.

“Do you want me to go ask for some medicine?”

“No, no,” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “Let them sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Keith studied him for a long moment, gaze still worried. “You have to wake me up if it gets worse.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Lance,” Keith’s tone turned stern. “Wake me up.”

“Yes, mom,” Lance grumbled, rolling over.

Keith huffed, shutting his eyes. He shifted onto his side, freezing when his face came into contact with warm skin. He squinted his eyes open, pulse picking up as he realized he’d just pressed into the nape of Lance’s neck.

“Uh, Keith?” Lance called.

Keith flinched back, cheeks burning. “Sorry! I didn’t-”

“S’fine,” Lance replied quietly. “Small bed.”

“Y-yeah,” Keith stuttered, letting the conversation trail off. He stared at the back of Lance’s head, at the way his hair curled over the nape of his neck in little untamed waves. It had felt nice to rest his head there, even if for a brief, accidental moment. Keith swallowed thickly. It has been a long time since he had physical contact with anyone outside of a fight. A very, very long time. He squeezed his eyes shut, making sure to shift back an extra few inches just to be safe. He needed to focus on sleeping. Just sleeping. Yet, as his mind began to drift off, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander.

Moonlight filtered down through the pines, speckling the earth in drops of silver. A shadow shifted, a pair of figures coming forth from the brush. The shorter one knelt down, a beam of milky light falling across their narrowed eyes. Their fingers splayed over the earth, touching a foot print stamped into the dirt. It was faded, barely there, but a trail of such prints led down the crude road. The figure turned to look up at their companion, looming behind them in the shadowy shroud of the forest.

“He came this way.”

The first thing Keith noticed as he blinked his way from sleep was the warmth surrounding him, encompassing him. The second thing was the slab of golden light that would have been beautiful were it not shining directly into his eyes. He squeezed them shut, shifting away from the morning sun and snuggling deeper into that warmth. Then the warmth shifted too.

Keith’s eyes flew open, widening when he took in the expanse of smooth brown skin. He froze, heart rate picking up into staccato punches against his rib cage. There was a sleepy huff from above him, warm breath ruffling the hair on the top of his head. His own breath caught in his throat.

Lance. He was curled right up against Lance, face pressed into the crook of his neck, not even a whisper of distance between them. Keith took stock of his limbs and to his own horror found that he had kept exactly none of them to himself. One arm was wound across Lance’s chest, the other pressed to his side, and he wasn’t even sure which legs were his and which were Lance’s in the tangled mess. To make matters even worse, there was an extra limb in the mix that definitely wasn’t his. To be precise, Lance’s arm was slung lazily across Keith’s waist, a light pressure just above his hip bone that somehow managed to feel like a hundred tons of lead.

This was a problem. A sleepy, comfortable, Lance-shaped problem. Slowly, Keith started the arduous task of trying to extract his legs. Lance shifted, grumbling something in his sleep that made Keith freeze. Waking Lance up was not an option. So instead, he tried to extract his own arm from Lance’s chest. However, given their close proximity, there wasn’t really anywhere else to put it. Next he attempted to lean away from where his head rested on Lance’s shoulder, but that task couldn’t be accomplished until he’d figured out how to retrieve his legs from Lance’s gentle, sleepy clutches. So he decided the best place to start was to remove the impossible weight of Lance’s arm on his waist.

The moment Keith’s fingers landed on Lance’s skin, he paused. There was something about that simple pressure that he didn’t want to break. It weighed upon his mind more than his body, the gesture light and gentle as it held him to Lance’s side. Keith’s hand trembled. He could barely remember the last time anyone held him with this much care. He could barely remember the last time anyone held him at all. So he moved his shaking hand back to Lance’s chest, squeezed his eyes shut and tucked his face deep against Lance’s neck. He could feel every breath the other man took, a simple ebb and flow of life through his sleeping form. Keith’s fingers clutched at the fabric of Lance’s shirt, pulling it tight into a trembling fist. He lay there, curled up close, listening to that quiet ebb and flow until his hands no longer shook, his fingers relaxed, and the furrow of his brows smoothed over. His breath mingled with Lance’s, soft and sure, as the morning sun painted their skin in quiet gold.

Lance had a problem. A sleepy, adorable, Keith-shaped problem. This problem also had an elbow, which just so happened to be digging right into his wound. He grit his teeth, refusing to let a sound escape even as he flinched. Keith let out a sleepy hum and snuggled in closer, which only made the situation worse because at this point Lance was either going to crack his teeth from clenching them or pass out from the racing of his heart.

He glanced down, finding a mop of endearingly messy black hair and the arm with the guilty elbow draped lazily across his chest, fingers curled slightly in the fabric of his shirt. Lance was going to die. Literally, he was going to pass out from pain, but it’d all be worth it because this was the single cutest albeit definitely most painful cuddling session he’d ever had.

Keith shifted slightly, letting out a warm breath right against Lance’s neck. Lance barely had time to process his cheeks flaming up because a moment later that fire erupted in his side as Keith’s elbow dug in extra hard.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

Keith’s sleepy form jumped, head raising and elbow mercifully retreating.

“Lance?” Keith slurred out.

“Morning, hot shot,” Lance managed to squeak out, all that fire in his side rapidly making its way back to his cheeks.

Keith squinted at him a moment, eyelids still heavy with sleep. His nose crinkled up as he thought and it was so cute Lance almost elbowed himself in the side just to bring himself back to his senses.

Keith’s eyes widened then, their stormy violet taken over by dark pupils. He sat up, taking his warmth with him and Lance couldn’t help but let a disappointed frown slip onto his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-”

“Hey,” Lance sat up, having to pause for a second and wince at the movement. When he looked up again Keith was watching him with big eyes, so he gave the other boy a reassuring smile. “It’s no big deal. I used to cuddle with my siblings all the time. I still cuddle with my buddy, Hunk. It’s normal.”

Keith flinched, turning away and hiding his face behind long bangs. “Right,” he murmured, voice hollow. “Normal.”

Lance frowned. “Keith, are you al-”

The other boy stood up abruptly from the bed, cutting Lance off. “I’m gonna go get you some pain killers.”

With that he was gone, Lance watching him disappear down the stairs with a concerned frown. He sighed, grimacing as he slumped back into bed. Honestly, the painkillers sounded amazing right now.

A pair of figures stood in the thick shadows of the trees, gazing out at a crumbling, scorched wall and the charred rafters of what had once been Sullivan’s mansion. The shorter figure’s eyes narrowed, sliding along a set of footprints, these much fresher. There were two sets of prints now, one of which tapered off into dragging lines before disappearing from the ground, the second set then sinking deeper into the earth. The taller figure spoke up, voice rumbling over the rustling leaves.

“Looks like someone found him first.”

“Keith, about earlier.”

Keith looked up from where he sat on a stool, Lance sitting across from him. His hands worked in quick motions as he skinned a potato with a small knife, the peels trailing down into a bucket. The fading evening light washed over them in a golden glow, and nearby Moira was laughing as she chased the flickers of fireflies through the family garden.

“Are you alright, man?”

Keith frowned, turning his gaze back to the now skinned potato. He set it aside and picked up a new one from the pile. “I’m fine. Like you said, it’s normal.”

“Okay, because I just wanted to-”

“Lance.” Keith cut him off, meeting the other boy’s eyes with a firm gaze. “I think after dinner we should be on our way.”

“What?” Lance asked. “Why?”

“Because the town guard will be out looking for whoever caused the fire at the mansion. Plus, we don’t know where Sullivan went. Staying here for too long would just be putting Moira’s family in danger.”

Lance sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m really going to miss Mark’s cooking, though. And the little princess herself.” He shot Moira a smile and wiggled his fingers in a cheesy wave. The little girl giggled.

Keith hummed in agreement, eyes flitting back to the potatoes. Behind them Moira caught a firefly and beamed down at the light shining from between her fingers.

Their goodbyes were somewhat tearful. Moira hugged them both over and over and made them promise to come and visit her in the future. Grace thanked them both again and assured them they were always welcome in her home. Mark gave them a bundle of food and medicine alongside a firm hug. Finally, old man Jack appeared, hobbling out from the kitchen. He shook both their hands, and gave them a grin that was missing more than a few teeth.

They struck out through the woods, headed away from the town until the sun set on them. When Keith laid out his bedroll he made absolutely certain it was a good five feet from Lance’s. The other boy built up a campfire, the warmth chasing off the chill night air. Keith settled in for the night, watching as Lance threw logs on the fire. He watched as Lance tucked himself into his own bedroll, watched as Lance gave him a sleepy smile and bid him goodnight. He watched as Lance’s eyes drooped shut, watched as the light from the flames danced across his skin, painting it in honeyed tones.

“Goodnight, Lance,” he whispered, the crackling fire snagging his soft words from the air and burying them in embers.

The fire was burned down to cinders, their light barely enough to illuminate the two sleeping mounds on the forest floor. A pair of figures loomed over them, gazing quietly down. The shorter one reached into their cloak, drawing out a large ax. Moonlight caught on the blade, glinting off it like a silver spark. The first figure knelt down, eyes narrowed as they studied Keith’s sleeping face. The taller figure crossed over to Lance, kneeling beside him. There was a moment’s pause. Then the taller figure turned towards their companion, giving them a simple nod. The first figure bared their teeth, fingers clenching to a fist around their ax. They raised the weapon.

Chapter Text

“Lance!”

“Don’t move!”

Lance jumped, bolting up only to collide with something warm. He squinted, brain trying to catch up after his rude awakening. His face was smushed against soft fabric, his body restrained in a tight grip.

“I said don’t move!”

Something clicked into place then as the gears of his mind reluctantly began spinning.

“Pidge?” Lance groaned out.

There was the sound of a scuffle off to the side, accompanied by a few angry shouts.

“Lance, we were so worried! Where on earth have you been?”

Lance yawned, shaking his head slightly. “Hunk?” The arms tightened further around him.

The clang of metal on metal finally brought Lance to his senses. He turned his head from where he was being smothered in Hunk’s shirt, taking in the scene before him. His eyes widened as he watched Pidge swing her ax through the air, Keith leaping back. His teeth were bared in a snarl as he brought his dagger forward, Pidge managing to bring her ax back up in time to deflect the blow in a spray of sparks.

“Keith!” Lance called, trying to figure out how exactly to explain this situation to everyone involved. Keith’s eyes shot to him, widening. Then they moved over to Hunk, his gaze narrowed to a fiery simmer.

“Let go of him!” Keith yelled, and it took Lance a moment to realize he was referring to the bear hug Hunk currently had him in. He might have laughed if Pidge didn’t choose that moment to strike again, ax crashing into the ground as Keith just barely dodged back.

Lance opened his mouth to speak just as Keith tackled Pidge to the ground. His dagger collided with the handle of her ax as he tried to force the weapon down towards her, Pidge gritting her teeth as she strained to push back.

“Keith!” Lance shouted. “Don’t-”

“Lance, what’s going on?” Hunk interrupted, his best friend pulling back to give him a very puzzled look.

“Could use a little help, here!” Pidge called, baring her teeth up at the bounty hunter looming over her. Her arms were shaking with the strain of holding the ax between herself and Keith’s dagger.

“Keith!” Lance yelled again. The other boy didn’t even spare him a glance, instead glaring heatedly down at Pidge as his dagger inched ever closer. Lance growled in frustration, snatching up his pillow and throwing it directly into Keith’s face.

The bounty hunter let out a startled sound, the distraction enough for Pidge to wrench her ax to the side and rip the dagger from Keith’s hands. Pidge reeled back her ax but before she could land a blow Lance grabbed the back of her shirt, dragging her out from under Keith.

“Lance, what the hell?” she yelled, kicking and thrashing as he lifted her to her feet like a cat picking up their kitten by the scruff. Keith snatched the pillow from his face and this time Lance couldn’t help but laugh at the combination of his bed head and the perplexed glare Keith was leveling at him.

Lance kept a firm grip on Pidge, who still looked like she was a second away from taking Keith’s head off. He glanced from Keith’s angry pout to Pidge’s enraged thrashing to Hunk’s worried frown. He sighed, a halfhearted smile slipping onto his face as he announced, “Well, this is awkward.”

“Let me go!” Pidge snarled.

“Not until you promise not to kill Keith.”

“Who’s Keith?!” Pidge yelled, still struggling.

“The guy who’s mullet you almost chopped off.”

Keith’s pout deepened. He crossed his arms as he glared up at Lance from where he was still sitting on the ground. To his credit, he at least hadn’t gone and snatched up his dagger, though it was hard to take Keith’s glare seriously when his angry face was framed by what most closely resembled a spiky black puffer-fish.

A hand landed on his shoulder then and Lance turned to find Hunk frowning down at him. “Seriously, dude, what’s going on?”

Lance took in a breath, bracing himself. “Okay, so Keith here was a princess and then he kidnapped me, then I escaped because I’m awesome, but he kidnapped me a second time because the dude can’t take a hint, then I saved a little girl and got stabbed, so Keith realized I wasn’t a bad dude and was in fact the heroic and dashingly handsome prince charming I’d been telling him I was the entire time, then we teamed up to take down this evil lord guy but I got kidnapped again, not by Keith this time, and the little girl was there so Keith got us out then I got the girl out, then I went back for Keith and we set the whole place on fire.” He finished with a halfhearted grin, gaze trailing from one confused set of eyes to the other.

“That’s not even-” Keith started.

“Keith, hush,” Lance interrupted. “Your version of things is boring.”

Keith gave him an offended glare right as Pidge spoke up in a deadpan voice.

“What?”

Lance flinched as he met her steely gaze. “Basically, Keith was a jerk but he’s cool now, so please don’t kill him.”

“Oh, he’s not the one I want to kill right now,” Pidge hissed. Lance shivered, releasing her as he tried to subtly slink behind Hunk.

Hunk held up his hands placatingly. “Okay, for real though, you need to slow down. We haven’t seen you in weeks! You went off to save some princess and never came back!”

Lance sighed, sharing a look with Keith. He crossed over to the other boy, extending his hand. Keith still looked rather grumpy but he took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Lance turned back to face his other friends. Pidge’s eyes were darting between him and Keith, her mouth drawn down into a rather sinister scowl. Her eyes snapped to his then and Lance couldn't help but flinch.

“Explain,” she grit out. “Now.”

Lance gulped.

Keith frowned, studying the two newcomers as Lance caught them up with what was going on. So these were Lance’s traveling companions. The small one seemed to have an angry streak and the big one was wringing his hands, hovering like a mother hen who didn’t know what to do. Keith had already been well acquainted with Pidge’s ax. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the one called Hunk for weapons. All he could see was a staff, which may work well enough as a blunt force object. The strangest thing about the pair was their clothes. Hunk wore finely embroidered robes. The symbols were familiar to Keith but he couldn’t quite place them. Pidge had on a full set of plate armor, which wasn’t exactly cheap to come by. Compared to Lance’s modest manner of dress and his reputation as a thief, the three made an odd trio.

“I’m sorry I ditched you guys,” Lance said as Keith turned back in to the conversation. “I didn’t really have a choice thanks to mullet for brains here.” He reached up, ruffling Keith’s hair. Keith batted his hand away, leveling him with a glare that annoyingly didn’t seem to phase Lance. “But I know I should’ve gone looking for you when I had the chance.”

“Even sending a letter would have been nice,” Pidge grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Seriously, man, you scared us,” Hunk said, eyes looking suspiciously watery.

“I’m sorry,” Lance repeated, gaze earnest. “It won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Pidge said, walking up to Lance. She stopped in front of him, glaring up at him in a way that made him flinch. Keith frowned as the two had a stare off. Then, suddenly, Pidge surged forward, wrapping Lance in a hug. Lance let out a rather undignified squeak of surprise before returning the embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“Sorry, Pidgeon,” he murmured.

“Dumbass,” she muttered into his shirt, although she didn’t pull back.

“We’re just glad you’re okay!” Hunk cried out, joining in on the hug.

Keith hung back awkwardly, not sure what to do or say. He stared down at his feet, shifting from side to side. After a long moment the three pulled apart. Keith felt eyes on him so he looked up, finding all three staring at him.

“What?” he snapped self-consciously.

“Sorry or almost beheading you,” Pidge told him, although there was a mischievous glint in her eye that made Keith feel like she was only sort of sorry.

Keith shrugged, looking away. “It’s fine,” he replied.

Lance walked over to him, slapping a hand on his back. He left his hand there as he turned to face his friends. “Say hello to the newest member of the group!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Keith,” Hunk said cheerily, offering out his hand.

Keith stared at it a moment before taking it. Hunk beamed so brightly when they shook hands that Keith couldn’t help but offer a small smile in return. “Nice to meet you,” he replied.

“So, are you part dragonborn?” Pidge piped up.

Keith flinched.

“Pidge!” Lane squaked indignantly.

“What?” she snapped. “He’s got horns!”

“It’s rude to just ask like that!” Lance exclaimed.

“Fine, sue me for being curious!”

“How would you feel if some just walked up to you and asked if you were a dwarf?” Lance continued.

“I’d kick him in the shins and call him a dumbass,” Pidge retorted. “I’m half as tall as everyone in the room! Of course I’m a bloody dwarf! And people with horns are probably dragonborn!”

Keith glared to the side, resisting the urge to reach up and pull his hood over his horns. There was a moment of silence. Hunk was the first to break it.

“So I’m assuming you two haven’t had breakfast since we’re the ones that woke you up.”

Keith raised his eyebrows, glancing towards the horizon where the sun was only just starting to peek over. He turned to Lance, pausing at what he saw.

Lance’s smile was blindingly bright, his eyes wide like a little kid who’d just been given a present. Keith felt himself staring a little longer than necessary.

“Hunk, my man, you have no idea how much I missed your cooking! All this guy carries with him is jerky and stale bread,” he added, nudging Keith teasingly.

Keith shot him a glare. Jerky was just fine for keeping him fed along the road. He crossed his arms in a way that absolutely wasn’t a pout.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Lance said, taking his wrists and uncrossing them. Keith’s eyes widened, cursing internally as his cheeks flared up. “Once you’ve tried Hunk’s cooking you’ll never be able to go back to those scraps again.”

Keith was too caught up by Lance’s proximity to take any offense at the other boy referring to his rations as scraps. His mind was reeling, desperately scrambling to come up with a response. Lance had yet to let go of his wrists. All he managed was to weakly cough out the word, “Right,” before trailing off.

“Just you wait, buddy,” Lance continued, smile still too bright and too close. “Your life’s about to be changed!” He finally dropped Keith’s wrists then, padding over to Hunk as he chattered away excitedly.

Keith glanced to the side, catching Pidge’s eye. She was staring at him intently and when their gazes met she smiled at him in a way that was a touch too mischievous for his liking. He turned away, going to retrieve his dagger as he willed the red in his cheeks to go down.

Keith hated to admit this, but Lance was right. Hunk’s cooking was life changing. He served up heaping plates of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, all ingredients apparently kept fresh with a cooling charm. It was while Keith watched Hunk cook that he was finally able to remember where he’d seen the symbols on his robe before. Those were the sigils of the Marvark Academy of Sorcery, the most prestigious school of magic in all the kingdoms. Yet this revelation seemed to only supply Keith with more questions. Why would a member of Marvark be traveling with a thief? And he still didn’t even know where Pidge fit into all of this, either.

However, he kept his mouth shut while waiting for breakfast, instead content to listen to Lance ramble on to his friends and watch Hunk cook. Hunk’s fingers had danced over the ingredients, producing little sparks of varied colors. He pulled more pots and pans than could possibly fit from the inner pockets of his robes, some ingredients floating into his outstretched hands. Keith was captivated. It had been a long time since he’d seen magic, closely guarded as it was by those that wielded it. Hunk did so effortlessly, humming as he twirled his finger to stir ingredients in a pan.

The food may have been a standard breakfast choice, but it’s flavor was truly exceptional. Keith didn’t know if it was magic, spices, or both. He didn’t bother to find out, too busy stuffing as much into his mouth as he could and fighting Lance for the last slice of bacon. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate so good.

Keith let out a content sigh, leaning back against the log as he watched Lance toast a slice of bread over the fire. His eyes couldn’t help but catch on Lance’s smile. The other boy had hardly stopped beaming since being reunited with his friends. Keith could get used to the sight.

Hunk stood up then, gathering up the dishes. “I’m gonna go wash these,” he announced. “Lance, wanna help?”

“You got it, buddy,” Lance replied, springing up as he stuffed the toast in his mouth. He choked a little, coughing and banging on his chest, and Keith couldn’t help but snort as we watched Lance walk away.

Just then someone sat down beside him. Keith jumped slightly, turning to find Pidge. She didn’t meet his eyes, instead picking up the stick Lance had speared his toast on and using it to poke at the embers of the fire. For a long moment nothing was said, both just watching the shifting of the coals.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Pidge spoke up suddenly. Keith turned to her but she still wasn't meeting his eyes. “Not about the trying to kill you thing. I maintain my right to chop off the heads of anyone I think is endangering my friends.”

Keith shrugged, following her gaze back to the dying fire. “Fair enough,” he murmured.

“But I’m sorry I asked about your horns. I mean, I don’t really care that Lance was making a fuss about it. He makes a fuss about everything. But you seemed really uncomfortable, so sorry about that.”

Keith paused. She seemed to be trying to be aloof, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. But he could here the uncertainty slipping through, the remorse in the way her voice wavered.

“I know what it’s like to not want to talk about that sort of thing,” Pidge continued. “Dwarfs aren’t exactly viewed as the toughest people out there. We’ve got a lot of pride but not a lot of respect from those around us.” She jabbed the stick into an ember, making sparks rise up in the air. “I was out of line, so I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Keith replied. “No harm done.”

Silence followed, filled only by the crackling of the fire. Finally, Pidge spoke once more.

“So Lance, huh?”

Keith’s head whipped around, eyes widening. “Um, what about him?” he managed to get out, voice thin.

Pidge met his eyes then, a glimmer of amusement dancing there. “He can just be a handful,” she replied innocently, though her gaze gave away what she really meant. “Thanks for looking after him.”

“Yeah, n-no problem,” Keith stammered, slumping back against the log. “How do you guys know Lance?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

Pidge turned back to the fire. “He stole my family’s heirloom jewel,” Pidge stated like she was talking about something as normal and mundane as the weather.

“What?” Keith exclaimed, eyes widening.

“Yep,” Pidge replied. “That thing’s been in my family for generations and the fucker just swiped it. So me and Hunk tracked him down, but by then he’d already sold it. Then we made him help us steal it back from the buyers. I can be very persuasive when I want to.”

The cackle that followed that statement wasn’t entirely friendly. Keith couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Lance despite the fact that he was clearly the guilty party here.

“The thing about Lance,” Pidge continued, “is he gets under your skin. At first it’s just annoying, but then all of sudden he’s your friend and you don’t even know when or how that happened. Honestly, I’m not surprised to find out he befriended you when you were literally trying to kidnap him.”

“Trying to arrest him,” Keith grumbled under his breath.

“Besides, I kind of felt sorry for him.”

That caught Keith’s attention. He turned to Pidge, brows furrowed. “Why’d you feel sorry for him?”

Pidge winced then, going back to poking at the fire. “That’s not really my story to tell,” she replied, suddenly engrossed in watching the flames. Keith stared at her a moment longer before turning away. He let the silence wash over them, content to just sit and watch as the fire burned out into smoking ashes.

“What’ve you two been doing while we were hard at work?”

Keith jumped, spinning around to find Lance smirking down at them, hands on his hips.

“I told Keith how you stole my family’s priceless heirloom,” Pidge piped up, not even bothering to turn around.

That took the smirk off Lance’s face. “Pidge!” he squawked. “I already said I was sorry like a hundred times!”

“If ‘sorry’s’ were all you had, you wouldn’t still be here, McClain,” Pidge called over her shoulder.

Lance sat down on Keith’s other side with a huff. “Next time you’re on dish duty,” he grumbled, throwing a towel on Pidge’s head. She pulled it off, scowling at him.

Keith barely even noticed their exchange, preoccupied with the fact that Lance was pressed right up against his side. He vehemently ignored the look Pidge shot him, instead glaring down into the remains of the fire.

“We should get walking,” Hunk called out as he returned to their little group. “You two shouldn’t really hang around this area after burning down a whole mansion.”

Lance shrugged. “Lord dickhead deserved it.” He got to his feet, offering a hand to Keith. “Let’s go, mullet.”

Keith gave him a halfhearted glare but took his hand anyways, getting to his feet. He ignored Pidge’s gaze burning intensely into the side of his head. And if he walked a little closer to Lance than was strictly necessary, no one needed to know.

Chapter Text

“According to the map,” Hunk spoke up, interrupting Lance’s idle chatter that hadn’t ceased all afternoon, “we should be right outside the town of Hobven.”

“Excellent!” Lance spoke up, clapping his hands together. “How about you guys go set up camp? I’m gonna slip into town and scout around.”

Keith raised a brow at that. “Scout around for what?”

“Work,” Lance replied. “Gotta make money somehow, and since you didn’t collect the bounty on me I’d say we’re gonna be needing some cash.”

“Is that what you guys do then? Just travel around taking odd jobs?”

For a fraction of second there was a pause. It was so brief Keith almost missed it, but he could feel that moment of tension in the way Hunk flinched, Pidge froze, and Lance, his bright smile still in place, averted his eyes.

“It’s a living,” Lance said with a shrug, the odd moment swept away beneath his cheerful voice. “Not every job can be rescuing damsels in distress such as yourself,” he added, giving Keith a wink.

Keith gazed at Lance in confusion, brows furrowing. Then he thought back to when they first met, and the ruse he had pulled with pretending to be a princess. He stiffened, his cheeks heating up. “I wasn’t exactly in distress,” he grumbled.

“You were the one in a dress, dude,” Lance pointed out.

“That was part of the trap!” Keith exclaimed, cheeks coloring further.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not-”

“Besides, you look good in a dress.”

Whatever arguments were on the tip of Keith’s tongue sputtered out in a few half-spoken words. He was fairly certain his entire body had gone bright crimson at that point. He turned away, crossing his arms as his brain fizzled to a stop.

“If you two are finished?” Pidge spoke up.

Keith shot her and Hunk a mortified look, still doing his best to hide beneath his hair.

“I believe you were supposed to be heading into town, Lance?”

Keith dared to dart his eyes over towards Lance and was rather annoyed to see he had a smug grin plastered to his face. “Aye aye, captain,” he replied, giving Pidge a two fingered salute as he turned to leave.

Keith paused for a moment, frowning. On the one hand, it might be good to get a little time away from Lance to cool down, especially after that particular comment. On the other, the strange, tense moment from earlier surfaced in his mind. He clenched his fist, running his thumb over the knuckles.

Lance had almost disappeared into the trees when Keith called out, “Wait!”

Lance paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“I’ll come with you,” Keith continued, starting towards him. “I can check to see if there’s any bounties in town.”

“Alright,” Lance shrugged, turning once more to set off with Keith at his side.

The town was fairly small, similar to the last one they’d been in. Keith was relieved to note that this place didn’t have ominous signs hanging over all the buildings declaring it the property of some lord.

“I’m gonna stop by the guard house to see what wanted posters they have up,” Keith said as they reached the town square.

“If you see my handsome mug on any of them, bring it back so I can add it to my collection,” Lance replied, grinning.

Keith raised his brows. “You collect your own wanted posters?”

Lance shrugged smoothly. “I’m a famous man, Keith. Plus, it’s kind of hard to find work with certain bounty hunters out to kidnap me.”

Keith opened his mouth to correct the word ‘kidnap’ before shutting it with an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he breathed out.

“I’ll be at the tavern,” Lance told him. “And Keith-” Suddenly he reached out, grasping Keith by his shoulders and looking him dead in the eye. “When you come to find me, don’t say a word.”

“Wha-” Keith began, perplexed.

“Just stand there and look strong. You aren’t exactly the smoothest talker out there, but your biceps are sure to impress.”

“Excuse me?” Keith sputtered, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks yet again.

“Remember,” Lance continued, “tough, not talk. See ya, buddy!” He gave Keith’s shoulders a squeeze before spinning on his heel, whistling a cheery tune as he sauntered over to the tavern. Keith stood there watching him go, eyes wide and face flushed. He shook himself, glaring off to the side as he set out for the guard house.

He spotted a bulletin outside the building, posters tacked up on it. Keith let out a breath as his eyes scanned over it, trying to commit some names and faces to memory in case he should stumble across any of the listed criminals. Just then Keith froze, eyes widening. Staring out from one poster, half hidden behind another tacked over it, was a familiar face. He reached out, hands slowly pushing the paper on top aside. Sure enough, he was greeted with the likeness of Hunk, drawn in almost perfect detail. And underneath was listed the single largest bounty Keith had ever laid eyes on.

Keith stood there a moment, stunned. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been too surprised if he found Pidge on the wanted posters, but Hunk? The man who’d hummed while he’d cooked them breakfast that morning, the one who’d waved his fingers lazily over the flowers they’d passed to bring them to full bloom? That man was a criminal?

Keith’s eyes drifted down to the bounty again. Lance had had an enormous bounty on him. He was wanted in several kingdoms for his thievery. Yet it paled in comparison to the award being offered right below Hunk’s smiling face. Keith felt a chill run down his spine. What could Hunk have possibly done to warrant such a huge reward for his capture? Keith’s mind flitted back to the tense moment yet again, the way Hunk flinched when Keith asked about them traveling around. At least now it was starting to make more sense as to how Hunk and Lance were friends.

Keith reached up, hand faltering over the poster. He frowned, brows drawn tight together. His eyes flitted from Hunk’s smiling face to the massive number scrawled underneath. Keith clenched his fist. Slowly, he lowered his hand, letting out a breath. He turned on his heel, walking away from the board and in the direction of the tavern.

It was easy to spot Lance in the establishment. The bar was full of chatter, but Lance was easily the loudest thing in the room. He was beaming ear to ear, chatting up customers, regaling them with tales of his supposed adventures while slipping in the occasional mention of looking for work. Keith made his way over to him, leaning up against a wooden beam near where Lance was sitting.

Lance’s smile brightened when he saw him, quickly introducing Keith to his audience. Keith said nothing, although it had less to do with Lance’s earlier order and more to do with the fact that he was lost in thought. Keith frowned, studying Lance as he spoke, all sunny smiles and big, sweeping gestures.

After all they’d been through, he trusted Lance. At least, he thought he did. Yet there was clearly something else going on here, something Lance and his friends were hiding from him. Keith clenched his fist. He’d have to be on guard.

“Keith?”

The bounty hunter jumped, turning his head to the side to find Lance leaning into his space. “You good, buddy?”

“Y-yeah,” Keith stuttered out. “Just following your instructions. Be quiet and look tough.”

“Well you’re doing a fantastic job,” Lance snickered. “Come on, let’s get back to the others. I found some work for us!”

The work turned out to be wrangling a pack of venomous chicken hybrids from their old coop into a newly constructed one. Keith frowned as he adjusted the thick leather gloves supplied to them, the garment reaching all the way up to his elbows.

“No wonder the farmer hired outside help for this,” Pidge groaned, glaring down at the feathery little beasts on the other side of the fence. The chickens hissed in return, flapping their wings and lashing their lizard-like tails. “Why does he even have venomous chickens anyways?”

“The venom glands are used for stripping the fur off of leather,” Lance piped up. Keith glanced over at him, surprised to see the other boy didn’t look nervous. Instead his face was screwed up in a concentration, his tongue caught between his teeth in a way that was far too endearing for Keith’s liking.

“Great,” Pidge groaned. “So we’re gonna get third degree burns for a few coins.”

“Pidge,” Hunk spoke up suddenly, voice stern. His eyes flitted meaningfully over to Lance as he spoke.

Keith shot the man a confused look, glancing to Lance next, although the other boy didn’t seem to have noticed. He turned to Pidge then and was even more surprised to see she looked guilty, glancing sheepishly at the ground as she kicked her foot through the dirt.

“What-?” Keith began.

“Everybody ready?” Lance interrupted. He crouched down, bracing himself.

“Yep!” Hunk called.

“Sure thing,” Pidge said, her tone slightly sarcastic.

“Keith, you ready?”

Keith frowned. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Okay,” he said, a grin flashing across his face as he narrowed his eyes. “Three, two, one, go!”

Lance vaulted over the fence, Keith and Pidge close behind. Keith snatched at a chicken but the animal wriggled out of his grip, sinking its beak into his glove. The thick leather protected him, but it began to smoke upon contact so Keith pulled back, cursing. He knelt down, making another grab at the enraged bird.

“Coming through!” Pidge screamed.

Keith glanced up just in time to see Pidge barreling at him full speed, a chicken hot on her heels. Before he could so much as blink Pidge leapt into the air, spring-boarding off his back and landing safely outside the coop.

“Ouch!” Keith yelped, collapsing on the ground. Next thing he knew he had a face full of angry chicken. He just barely managed to snatch it up before it closed its beak around his nose. Keith stood up, holding the thrashing beast at arms length. “A little warning next time,” he grumbled at Pidge, awkwardly clambering over the fence without the use of his arms.

“Sorry,” Pidge said. “That fucker was about to bite my ankles.”

Keith walked over to the new pen, unceremoniously dumping the ball of rage and feathers down into it. Suddenly another chicken fell into the pen right in front of his face. He jumped, whirling around. Behind him Hunk was standing outside the pens, never having entered them like the others. He waved his hand, levitating a chicken off the ground. It shrieked and clucked the whole way over to the new pen before being gently placed on the ground with another wave from Hunk’s hand.

“No fair,” Pidge grumbled.

Begrudgingly, Keith headed back over to where the majority of the chickens were still running about in the old pen. He watched as Lance crouched low, eyeing a pair of chickens. Then, with a sudden flash of his hands, the two birds were clutched securely in his grasp. He slipped effortlessly over the fence before depositing the creatures in their new pen.

“How’d you do that?” Keith demanded, not even bothering to hide his surprise.

Lance gave him a smirk. “I’m a farmboy, Keith. Been wrangling animals all my life.”

Without any further hesitation Lance vaulted back into the old pen, crouching a moment before snatching up another couple of writhing birds. “You two planning on helping, or are you gonna let me and Hunk do all the work?” he called over his shoulder.

Keith frowned, adjusting his gloves once more. Pidge groaned, catching his eye. Her mouth drew up into a grimace, and she gave Keith a tight nod as if she were acknowledging a fellow soldier before charging into battle. The two braced themselves. Then they dove back into the chaos.

They had almost rounded up all the chickens, only a handful left in the old pen. Keith begrudgingly hopped over the fence, hair mussed up in all directions with the odd feather or two tangled in the mess. He narrowed his eyes at a chicken, the beast pawing the ground. Keith grit his teeth, lunging for it. For a brief second his hands closed around it, a relieved grin smoothing over his face. Then the chicken slipped from between his fingers. Keith didn’t even have time to blink before he felt a burning pain in his calf. He cried out, collapsing on the ground as that pain spread from his leg to the rest of his body, setting his blood on fire.

He writhed on the ground, barely registering the startled shouts or the hands that dragged him backwards out of the pen. He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they would crack, his entire being ablaze. There were more voices, more shouting, and the arms around him deposited him down on some sort of seat.

Suddenly a cooling sensation spread over the wound, the pain easing just a fraction. Keith blinked open his watery eyes, his fingers clenched around the egdes of his seat. Lance was kneeling before him, brows creased with worry as he rubbed some sort of salve into the bite mark. Keith had to squeeze his eyes shut again as another searing wave rolled through him, his fingers digging into the sides of the stool so hard that they ached.

Just then a hand landed over his own, gently prying open his grip. Keith’s breath caught in his throat as fingers slipped between his, squeezing tight. More salve was applied, the cooling sensation starting to spread and dull the jagged pangs of pain. Keith managed to pry his eyes open again, staring down at where Lance clutched his hand in his.

He could hear Pidge and Hunk talking in the background alongside a third voice he didn't recognize, but he paid them no mind. Instead he kept his eyes down, studying the way Lance’s hand fit perfectly in his, how his brown skin shown warmly against Keith’s own pale fingers.

“There,” Lance sighed as he finished rubbing in the salve. “Is that helping?” he asked, looking up at Keith with big eyes. Keith nodded, swallowing thickly. He winced as another wave of pain rolled in, but it was much less severe than before.

“I hate those stupid birds,” Keith rasped out.

Lance laughed, the sound even more soothing to Keith than the balm on his wound. “Gotta bandage you up,” Lance murmured, squeezing Keith’s hand one more time before pulling it back so he could use both hands. Keith instantly missed the warmth, sagging further in his seat as he felt exhaustion sweep over him.

“I’m terribly sorry about that,” the unfamiliar voice called out.

Keith glanced up, eyes meeting a middle aged man who he assumed to be the farmer. “They’re normally fairly docile after lunch.”

Keith shrugged weakly, gaze straying back to where Lance’s fingers worked over the bandages.

“I’ll throw in a little extra coin for your troubles, and some more of that salve too,” the farmer continued.

“That’s much appreciated,” Hunk replied.

There was a pause then, one long enough to catch Keith’s attention. He looked up, taking in the scene. The farmer had frozen, hands still on the satchel he had pressed into Hunk’s arms. He was frowning thoughtfully up at the taller man, Hunk staring down at him in confusion.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” the man asked.

Hunk winced. “Uh, no sir. I don’t believe so.”

“You look very familiar. I must’ve seen your face around somewhere before.”

“N-no,” Hunk stuttered, fidgeting nervously as he pulled the satchel the rest of the way out of the man’s hands. “I just have one of those faces, you know?”

.”Wow, it’s getting late!” Pidge piped up suddenly. “We really better be off.”

“Good thinking!” Lance called out as he finished tying off Keith’s bandages. “Better get Keith back to camp so he can rest!”

He leaned in, draping Keith’s arm over his shoulders and helping him stumble onto his feet. Keith winced when he put weight on his injured leg, the wound stinging.

“Sorry,” Lance murmured, nonetheless starting forward with Keith hobbling along. “Thanks for the medicine!” Lance called over his shoulder as he and the others started hastily away. Keith glanced back, finding the farmer frowning as he watched them retreat. Keith thought back to the wanted poster he’d seen in town, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“What was that about?” he asked cautiously, watching the others for their reaction. None of them met his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” Lance replied, voice a little too cheery, “Must’ve mistaken Hunk for someone else. It happens.”

Keith frowned, eyes flitting over to Hunk. The young man was staring at the ground, face screwed up in a grimace. “Yeah,” Keith said, keeping his gaze steady. “It happens.”

Chapter Text

Keith lay curled up in his bedroll, wincing as he shifted, his wound stinging. He curled his fingers in the bedding, the memory of what happened right after still fresh in his mind. The feeling of Lance’s hand in his was burned deeper into his skin then that stupid chicken bite. He couldn’t sleep, his mind replaying over and over what it had felt like to have Lance's fingers slip between his own, their palms pressed together. It was such a simple touch, yet Keith couldn’t focus on anything else.

He rolled over under his covers, turning towards what he thought would be Lance’s sleeping form. Instead he saw Lance sitting with his back to him, silhouetted against their dying campfire. He frowned, opening his mouth to speak, when another voice broke the quiet.

“Are you going to do it now?” Pidge whispered, sitting up from her own bedroll.

“Yeah,” Lance murmured back. “Probably best to do it while Keith’s asleep.”

Keith’s eyes widened a fraction. Then he shut them, feigning sleep in case one of them glanced over.

“Lance,” Pidge spoke up, “let me just-”

“Nuh-uh,” Lance whispered back. “Pidge, we’ve talked about this.”

“But we can help! We can give you more-”

“No,” Lance said with finality. “Your family is already funding all our adventures out here. I can’t ask any more of you guys.”

Keith’s brows furrowed. Then he winced, worried that that simple move might have given him away. However, no one seemed to notice as Lance continued speaking.

“Besides, you and Hunk already help me every time.”

There was a moment’s pause. “What about Keith’s share?” Pidge asked.

“Oh, right,” Lance whispered. There was the sound of some shuffling as he murmured, “Almost forgot.”

Keith listened to the footsteps padding over, then the soft thud of something being placed beside him.

“There,” Lance whispered. “Now he won’t suspect anything.” His footsteps padded away.

“You know I’d help you if I could, buddy,” Hunk spoke up, apparently having been awake as well.

“I know, man,” Lance replied. “But I’d just tell you the same thing I tell Pidge. Plus, like I said, you guys already help me plenty. Seriously, thank you.”

“Of course,” Hunk whispered.

“Lance,” Pidge spoke up. “If you ever need more, just ask.”

“That won’t be a problem, Pidgeon,” Lance said, his footsteps growing fainter.

“Hurry back!” Hunk called.

Keith tensed, listening to the sound of Lance’s retreating footsteps. His heart was racing, his hands clenched to fists. Cautiously, he peeked open his eyes. Both Hunk and Pidge had laid back down, their backs turned to him. Then his gaze landed on a small leather pouch by his head; likely the thing Lance had placed beside him. Quietly, Keith slid out from his bedroll, grabbing the pouch and carefully getting to his feet. He turned, sneaking off in the direction he’d heard Lance’s footsteps going.

It didn’t take him long to catch up to Lance, the other boy only having a few moments head start. Keith hung back, using the underbrush to take cover. He frowned as they drew deeper into the woods, recognizing it as the path into the village.

Up ahead, Lance ducked around a large tree. Keith quickly crept over, peaking around its trunk. His eyes widened when he found nothing there, his head whipping around. He couldn’t have possibly lost Lance, the boy rounded the tree only a moment ago.

Suddenly something collided into him from above, Keith hitting the ground hard. The breath was crushed from his lungs, and Keith grimaced as his wrists were pinned in a harsh grip. A low growl rumbled through the air. There was a pause, then-

“Keith?”

The bounty hunter squinted his eyes open, finding Lance’s confused face just above his own.

“Why are you following me?”

Keith managed to suck some breath back into his lungs. “Why are you sneaking off in the middle of the night?” he gasped out.

Lance winced, his grip on Keith’s wrists loosening. “It’s nothing,” he murmured, averting his eyes. “Just go back to camp.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” Keith retorted. His gaze flitted down to something dangling off of Lance’s belt, eyes widening as he recognized the leather satchel the farmer had given them to hold their payment. “That’s-”

Lance frowned, his grip tightening on Keith’s wrists once more. “I gave you your share,” he said defensively. Keith glanced over to the small bag he had dropped when Lance tackled him. He looked back towards the satchel.

“But you have Hunk and Pidge’s share.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “They gave it to me,” he snapped defensively.

“But why? What are you doing with it?”

There was a long silence. Finally Lance sighed, releasing Keith’s wrists and leaning back. Keith sat up, waiting as Lance glared at the ground.

“That thing I told you earlier, about needing to work to fund our travels. That’s not actually true.”

Keith didn’t reply, simply waiting for Lance to elaborate.

“Pidge’s family gives her money to keep us all fed and alive out here. They’re loaded. Hunk’s is too, but that’s a different story.” Lance wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead glaring at where he was sinking his claws into the ground. “Pidge offers to give me money too, but I won’t let her. Her parents are doing enough for us.”

“Then what do you need that for?” Keith asks, gesturing towards the satchel.

“My family,” Lance murmurs, voice so quiet Keith can barely make out the words. “I take up odd jobs here and there to make enough money to send home to my family. Pidge and Hunk are kind enough to help and give me their share, even though they don’t have to.”

He cut his sentence off there, claws scratching a line in the dirt. Keith let the silence wash over them, studying Lance closely. There was more to the story. He could read it in the tension in Lance’s shoulders, the set of his jaw, the shadows in his eyes. But Keith wasn’t one to pry. Lance could tell him in his own time. He knew enough now to let it go, at least for a while.

Slowly, Keith reached over, picking up his own bag of coins. He held it out to Lance, the other boy’s eyes widening as they flitted between him and the bag.

“Take it,” Keith murmured.

“No,” Lance began, “I can’t-”

“Take it, Lance,” Keith said, more firmly this time. “Pidge and Hunk are willing to help out and so am I. If Pidge’s family is keeping us fed, then I don’t need it anyways.”

“Keith, you don’t-”

Keith reached out then, grabbing Lance’s hand and placing the bag into it. He folded his own hand over Lance’s, making the other boy’s fingers close around it. An echo of Lance’s hand in his flashed back to him, but he shook those thoughts away.

“Just take it, Lance,” he murmured.

There was a long pause, Lance staring wide-eyed at the coin purse in his outstretched hand. Keith slowly drew his own hand away, leaning his elbows on his knees as he left Lance to work out whatever was going through his head. He frowned as his thoughts wandered, thinking back to all that had happened that day. The news of Lance sending money to his family explained the strange tension from when Keith asked about why they were looking for work. What it didn’t explain was that wanted poster emblazoned with Hunk’s face. Between venomous chickens, Lance holding his hand, and then Lance sneaking off, Keith had forgotten to mention it. He turned to the other boy then, words on the tip of his tongue.

Before he could so much as make a sound, Lance surged forward, pulling Keith into a tight hug. Keith froze, eyes widening. He stayed that way for a long moment, shivers rolling down his spine, before he finally got it together enough to hug Lance back. The other boy’s arms tightened around him, his face buried against Keith’s neck. It took every ounce of self control for Keith to keep his hands from shaking as his fingers curled into the fabric of Lance’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Lance breathed against his neck.

Keith didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t trust himself not to break as soon as he opened his mouth, so he settled for nodding numbly, feeling the way Lance’s hair brushed against his cheek at the movement.

Too soon Lance was pulling away, taking all his warmth and life with him. Again, it took every last bit of self control for Keith to let him go rather than holding on tighter, pulling him closer. Lance got to his feet, extending a hand to Keith as he smiled softly down at him. Keith took it, allowing himself to be pulled up. He tried not to focus on the way their hands lingered before parting.

“I still need to send this off,” Lance murmured, indicating the satchel. “I don’t even know if the village post is open this late.” The fond smile was still on his face, his eyes seeming to glimmer like the stars above them.

Keith blinked, feeling a relaxed smile slip onto his own face. “Let’s find out,” he whispered, following Lance into the trees.

“So,” Pidge spoke up, eyeing the others. “Where to now?”

Lance swallowed down his last bite of omelette, sad to see it go. The eggs had been supplied by the farmer from yesterday as part of their payment. Honestly, he’d been wary at first, what with the chickens being venomous dicks, but it turns out their eggs were just as good as any other chicken’s. Better, even, when Hunk got his hands on them.

“Well we shouldn’t need to take up another job for a while,” he spoke up, lounging back against the log. “That money will last a good month or two.”

“Should we just hit the road then?” Hunk asked. “Keep an eye out for any more of Lance’s princesses?” He elbowed Lance teasingly in the side.

“Hey, the last time I went to rescue a princess I got us a new member of the group,” Lance shot back, gesturing to Keith.

Keith gave him a small smile in return. Lance paused then, caught off guard by how pretty he looked like that. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it; Keith was a handsome guy. Lance had eyes, after all. But something about the way Keith smiled, about how the furrow in his brows smoothed over, how his face relaxed and eyes shone, was extra pretty. As in more than usual pretty. Some might even say too pretty. Lance shook himself, clearing his throat.

“You know,” he continued. “Keith’s looking for this Zarkon guy.”

Keith’s smile disappeared then, that furrow back as he glanced away.

“Who’s that?” Hunk asked.

“Someone evil,” Keith muttered.

“Keith’s gonna arrest him or something,” Lance explained. He glanced over at the other boy just in time to catch something dark flicker in Keith’s eyes. Lance frowned, but continued on. “We could try to find a lead on him.”

“We have nowhere to start,” Keith said bitterly. “Sullivan was my last lead, and he got away. We can’t just go around asking random people about Zarkon. Most won’t know what we’re talking about, and if we stumble across someone who does then that’ll put a target on our backs.”

“Is this Zarkon a corrupt politician or something?” Pidge asked.

“Something like that,” Keith muttered.

“Then I might be able to help.”

Keith’s eyes widened, head shooting up to meet Pidge’s gaze. Lance turned to her too, brow furrowing in confusion.

“My parents are the leaders of our clan. They have lots of ties to nobles and royalty from all over the kingdoms. If anyone’s gonna know something about Zarkon, it’s them.”

A grin split across Lance’s face. He reached over, grabbing Pidge in a headlock and ruffling her hair as she flailed and hissed. “Pidge, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed.

“McClain, I will suffocate you in your sleep!” she growled, wriggling out of his hold.

Lance smirked. “Nah, you’d miss me too much.”

Pidge’s venomous glare seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I’m on board,” Keith spoke up, taking her attention off of Lance. “I’ve got nothing else to go on, so we can at least try.”

“Yes!” Lance cried, pumping his fist in the air.

“Will Matt be there?” Hunk asked, eyes lighting up.

“I think so,” Pidge replied. “I’m pretty sure Marv- uh, his school’s on break.”

Lance winced, glancing over to Hunk. The other man’s eyes were downcast, his excited smile melting away. Lance caught Pidge’s eye, who shrugged apologetically at him. He saw some movement from the corner of his eye and turned to find Keith watching them, brow furrowed in confusion. He saw the other boy open his mouth to speak and Lance’s mind reeled, frantically scrambling for something to say.

“What-” Keith began.

“It’s settled then!” Lance exclaimed, cutting him of. “We’re going to Pidge’s place! Keith, you have got to see her house, it’s insane.”

Keith frowned, but his perplexed expression softened when he caught sight of Lance’s bright smile. “Alright,” he murmured.

“We’ll find out about this Zarkon asshole, see how Matt’s doing, and then we can go and catch the bad guy!” Lance continued.

“Who’s Matt?” Keith asked.

“My brother,” Pidge replied. “He’s a total dork.”

“Calling the kettle black there,” Lance murmured, a smug grin stretched across his face. He screeched when Pidge threw her helmet at him, just managing to catch it before it smacked him in the head.

“He might’ve even heard of Zarkon,” Hunk added. “Matt’s one of the smartest people I know.”

“What’re we waiting for?” Lance asked, scrambling to his feet and tossing the helmet back to Pidge. “Let’s go on a road trip!”

Keith snorted. “What roadtrip? We were already traveling along the road before we ever made these plans.”

Again, Lance found his gaze catching on that small upturn in Keith’s lips, the other boy’s eyes practically sparkling. He swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance said, clearing his throat as he waved his hand dismissively. “Details. Bet I can pack up faster than you, mullet.”

Without waiting for a reply Lance sprung into action, racing over to his bedroll. He didn’t have to look back to know Keith was right behind him, feet pounding on the earth as he muttered out a curse. Lance was too busy goading Keith and scrambling to get his things together to notice Pidge. She watched their antics with a raised brow, her eyes trailing over to Hunk. He smiled in return, shrugging good-naturedly as the pair went to pack up their own things, every once in a while glancing with knowing eyes at the pair of bickering boys.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere was strained. Lance’s cheerful chattering filled the silence of the woods, but it was a thin veil over the tension. Hunk seemed to jump at every snapped twig, every rustle in the underbrush. Pidge kept drumming her fingers over the handle of her ax, brows drawn tightly together. Even Lance couldn’t help the occasional glance over his shoulder, eyes betraying his nervousness for a mere moment before he was laughing and smiling once more.

Keith frowned, eyes sweeping over his three traveling companions for what must’ve been the millionth time. A few days had gone by since they started out. Everything was fine on the surface, but it was easy to spot the cracks in everyone’s composure. Each time Keith tried to say something about it Lance would interrupt with another story or Pidge would loudly announce that she was going ahead to check that they were still on the right path. Hunk would always flinch, eyes flitting away.

It was starting to frustrate Keith, this unspoken thing hanging over them all. He felt he had more than adequately proved to Lance that he was trustworthy, yet whatever was going on, the others were refusing to tell him. With each interruption, each half-asked question, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that whatever it was must be bad. Really bad. It would certainly explain the enormous bounty on Hunk.

Keith eyed the back of Hunk’s head, frowning. He fell a few paces back, keeping his distance from the taller man. It just didn’t make sense. Lance wouldn’t hang around him if he were truly a bad guy, right? But then again, Keith had to admit he really hadn’t known Lance all that long, and what he had known before he met him wasn’t exactly a glowing review. He just couldn’t reconcile the image of Lance in his mind, diving in front of a sword to save a child, with the Lance now, keeping secrets about a man who committed some horrible crime.

Keith’s fist clenched, painfully aware of how close it was to his dagger. Perhaps he was traveling with some of the very people he despised, the people who took advantage of the weak and hurt the innocent. Yet Lance still didn’t fit into this picture. None of them did, really. Pidge had a sharp tongue but she certainly didn’t seem evil. And Hunk was one of the gentlest, kindest souls he’d ever come across. Yet there still was that poster, that tense atmosphere. Maybe it was all a ruse. Maybe Lance was caught up in it without even knowing the true nature of his supposed friend. All Keith could do was stay on guard, and keep a close eye on the wanted man before him.

“Are you alright, Keith?”

Keith looked up from the roast fish he’d been scowling down at, eyes widening when he caught sight of Hunk’s worried gaze.

“You don’t like the food?”

“No, it’s delicious,” Keith replied, quickly glancing away. “Just got lost in thought.”

“That’s your problem,” Lance piped up around a mouthful of fish. He swallowed before saying, “You’ve got too many thoughts rattling around under that mullet of yours.”

“And you don’t have enough,” Keith retorted, unable to stop the teasing smile from slipping onto his face.

“Rude!” Lance scoffed at the same time Pidge called out, “Ayyy!”

She held up her hand, beaming, and Keith paused a moment, staring at it in confusion. Just then Lance’s hand landed on his own, guiding it forward to smack against Pidge’s.

“Can’t believe I gotta help you do a high-five,” he teased.

“A what?” Keith asked, drawing his hand back in confusion.

Lance gaped at him while Pidge snickered. “Hunk!” Lance cried, turning to his friend and gesturing dramatically at Keith. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

Keith’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Hunk before quickly looking away.

“You’ll just have to teach him,” Hunk said. “You love being the center of attention anyways.”

“Rude, but true,” Lance sniffed.

The rest of dinner passed much the same way, with idle chatter from the others and Keith watching Hunk from the corner of his eye. There were no clues, no tells in the way the man talked or acted to hint at anything darker underneath. Honestly, that worried Keith more than if there had been something obvious. He just couldn’t begin to fathom what was truly going on.

As they got ready for bed, Keith watched Hunk put his sleeping roll down next to Lance’s. He frowned, marching over and plopping his own bedding in between the two. He made sure to lay his dagger down by his head, one hand left on it.

“You do realize sleeping isn’t a combat sport,” Lance teased, pulling his covers over himself.

“You can never be too prepared,” Keith replied, gaze flitting to Hunk for the briefest of moments. He stayed awake long past the others, studying Hunk. He wanted to ensure the rumbling snores he heard were real, the rise and fall of Hunk’s chest not merely a ruse. He wanted to know who this man was. But he couldn’t tell that, no matter how long or hard he stared. Despite his best efforts, his eyes grew heavy, his mind starting to wander. Finally, he gave in, letting sleep wash over him.

Keith awoke to dust and screams. He stood up, coughing at the black powder that choked the air and filled his lungs. His hand closed around his dagger, his eyes squinting through the haze. There was movement, the sound of metal on metal, of angry shouts. He stumbled around, dagger held aloft, trying to follow the sounds of the commotion. Just then something hit him hard in the stomach, knocking him down. He groaned, squinting his eyes open to find Lance scrambling off of him.

“Keith!” Lance cried, eyes wide and panicked, “You have to-!”

His ears flicked, and a second later he dove to the side, an enormous ax splitting open the earth where he’d just been. Keith scrambled backwards, looking up at the giant man that wielded it. The ax blade was attached to the end of a long pole, a halberd, the weapon making Pidge’s ax look like a toy in comparison. The man sneered down at him through his thick beard.

Just then Lance appeared from the haze once more, diving at the attacker. The thug stepped nimbly to the side, the move surprisingly graceful for someone his size, leaving Lance to sprawl out in a heap on the ground.In a flash he snatched out a net, throwing it over Lance while he was trying to get back to his feet.The material glowed, sinking into the ground and forcing Lance down with it.

Keith leapt to his feet, charging the stranger only to instantly leap back as the halberd cut a deadly arc through the air. His opponent glanced back over his shoulder, barely paying Keith any mind. “I’ve got the cat as well!” he bellowed into the fog.

Keith tried using this moment of distraction to his advantage, but the thug just swung another sharp arc with his ax, keeping Keith well out of striking distance.

“Good!” a gruff female voice called back. “We can turn him in for some extra coin!”

“You almost done?” the man called, his words followed another steady sweep of the halberd to thwart Keith’s latest attack.

“Yeah, just gotta get rid of this twerp.” The words were accompanied by another clang of metal somewhere to the right, followed by an angry growl that was definitely from Pidge.

“Alright,” the man called back. Then his voice lowered, gaze fixed back on Keith. “Let’s finish this.”

Keith snarled, baring his teeth. This time he waited, circling the thug as the man spun to keep him in his sight. Just then the man struck, his halberd coming down hard. Keith dove to the side, feeling the wind from where the blade almost split his skin. He sprung into action, charging as his opponent was still lifting the heavy weapon back up. He lashed out, blade slicing across the thug’s chest in a spray of blood. The man bellowed, kicking Keith hard and forcing him to stumble back. He brought his halberd down again but Keith dodged once more, using the time it took to reel it back to get in close. His opponent threw a punch at him but Keith spun beneath his arm, sliding down on his knees next to where Lance was curled up on the ground. He reached out, hands closing around the glowing netting as he brought his dagger down.

“Keith, no!” Lance yelled, but it was too late. As soon as the metal connected with the material it sent a shock through Keith that was so strong it threw him backwards, dagger flying from his hand. He winced, little pulses of pain fizzling through his body as the world spun around him. Lance screamed. His eyes opened just in time to see the ax coming down towards his head.

Keith just barely rolled out of the way, gritting his teeth as the blade nicked his elbow. He scrambled up, dodging back from another swipe. He glanced frantically around, trying to spot his dagger in the thinning haze. Then his eyes landed on the net, stretched over Lance just a few paces behind Keith. He turned back to the man before him, eyes narrowing.

Keith leapt away from another swipe, backing up as his attacker advanced. He glanced behind him once more, finding Lance right there. Then he fell.

Keith hit the ground, eyes wide open as he glared at the thug towering above him. The man reeled his halberd back, ready to bring it down. Lance screamed as the blade descended, straining against the net in vain. Keith watched the ax fall, closer and closer. He smirked. At the last second Keith rolled to the side, the weapon missing him by mere inches. Instead, it collided with the very edge of the net.

The effect was instant. The man was thrown back, his weapon spinning from his grasp. Keith immediately leapt up, charging after him. He reached the thug just as he hit the ground, not pausing for a moment before his foot connected with his skull. The man went limp, head lolling to the side as Keith stood above him, panting. He glanced around, finally spotting his dagger and racing over to it, snatching it up from the ground.

“Don’t move!”

Keith spun around, freezing when he took in the scene before him. The black powder from before had finally cleared the air, the whole clearing now visible. A woman just as tall and muscled as the man stood in the center. She had a boot firmly planted on Hunk, who lay unconscious beneath her, tangled in a net just like Lance’s. Behind her lay Pidge, out cold on the ground. The woman’s spear was pointing directly at Hunk’s throat.

“We only came for this man here,” the woman continued, her gaze firm as she eyed Keith.

“Let him go!” Lance screamed. He was thrashing from his spot on the ground, but the net only seemed to cinch tighter around him.

“You’re new,” the woman continued, eyes narrowing as she studied Keith. “There was no description of you in the job briefing.”

Keith glared at her, hand tightening around his dagger.

“You haven’t been with these people long,” the woman continued. “I’m sure you never meant to get tangled up in all of this, so I’ll make you a deal. You let me and my partner take in this man here,” she nudged Hunk with her foot, “and I’ll let you and your buddies go. Even the cat,” she nodded her head towards the still-thrashing Lance, “and he’s worth a pretty penny. Now, you refuse, and I take you down and collect three times the bounty. These two go for a nice price and the little one should be worth a fortune in ransom money.”

Keith’s eyes flitted to Pidge, lying still on the earth.

“And don’t worry,” the woman continued. “I’ll keep you alive just long enough to figure out if you’re worth anything. Honestly, I almost prefer you give it a shot.” She sneered, baring her teeth at him.

“Don’t listen to her, Keith!” Lance yelled.

“What do you say?” the woman asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

Keith grit his teeth, gaze flitting between Hunk and the woman’s face. Wasn’t this all the proof he needed? These people were bounty hunters, just like him, and they’d come for Hunk. He may still not know what Hunk had done, but didn’t this prove exactly how severe his crimes must be? How could Keith defend a criminal? He’d sworn to protect the world from people like these, so how could he just let Hunk go?

“Keith!” Lance cried out.

Keith turned to him, fists clenched, hands shaking. There were tears beading along Lance’s lashes, a kind of gnawing desperation swirling in the ocean of his eyes.
“Please,” he whispered.

Keith looked at Lance. He looked at Hunk. He looked at the woman sneering at him and grit his teeth. Keith threw his dagger. The weapon embedded itself in the woman’s shoulder, making her stumble backwards with a shriek of pain. He dove for the unconscious man’s halberd, heaving it up as he ran at her. The woman wrenched the dagger from her shoulder, head whipping around with wide eyes just as Keith struck her across the skull with the blunt end of the ax. She went down hard, collapsing to the ground with heavy thud. Keith let the ax slump to the ground, his chest heaving as he stared down at her. He didn’t know if he’d made the right decision. He didn’t know if he’d regret it.

Gritting his teeth, Keith snatched his dagger from the ground, marching over to Lance. He knelt beside the other boy, looking him straight in the eye. “You have to tell me what’s going on,” he said, voice coming out hard.

Lance flinched, ears flattening as he glanced away. “I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“How do I get you out of this net?” Keith asked, tone steady.

Lance gestured to what appeared to be a black stone tied in to one edge of the net. “Break that,” he replied.

Keith turned his dagger around, bringing the hilt down to smash the stone to pieces. The net stopped glowing, and Lance sliced through it easily with his claws, quickly getting to his feet. He rushed over to Hunk, smashing the stone there and ripping the net off him. He studied his friend closely, frowning and inspecting him for wounds. Then he ran to Pidge, looking her over in the same manner. Finally, Lance sat back with a sigh.

“They’ll be fine,” he announced. “Pidge just got knocked on the head and Hunk must’ve tried to use his magic while tangled in that thing.”

“Lance,” Keith spoke again, watching him from where he still stood. His voice was firm, his face betraying no emotion. “What did Hunk do?”

Lance sighed. He got to his feet, fixing Keith with a steady gaze. “He ran away from home.”

There was a moment of silence before Keith finally broke it with the word, “What?” He was taken aback, staring at Lance in utter confusion.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Marvark, right? The fancy mage school?”

Keith nodded.

“Well, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Lance continued bitterly. “They’re only interested in teaching ‘powerful magic,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean. Hunk just wanted to use his magic to cook and help others. But not only was the school not about that, they actually viewed it as weak and would punish him for it. And his parents are even worse. They constantly ridicule him and his interests, and they’re always trying to force their own ways on to him. They’re this super rich, powerful family, so having their oldest kid not interested in inheriting their bullshit was a big deal. But Hunk just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t spend his whole life living by what they wanted. So he dropped out of school and ran away from home.”

Keith stared at Lance a few moments, blinking numbly. “But, the bounty-”

“That was put up by his parents for anyone who could return Hunk home. He’s the heir to their shit-show, plus they just can’t stand letting him be his own person.” Lance scowled, kicking at a pebble on the ground. “He was hiding out with Pidge’s family when I stole that heirloom from them. Like Pidge told you, that’s how we all met. Then they agreed to travel with me, because hiding Hunk there was putting diplomatic strain on Pidge’s folks. It’s all a stupid mess of politics and shitty parents.”

Keith didn’t quite know how to process this information. He looked at Hunk lying on the ground, a bit horrified that he’d almost let the two thugs take him away. He turned his gaze back to Lance, voice coming out thin. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Lance met his gaze with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry! But Keith, you’re a bounty hunter! And the bounty on Hunk is huge! We were worried that when you saw the money, you’d maybe-”

“What?” Keith snapped, rounding on him. “Turn in an innocent man? I don’t do it for the money, Lance, I do it to protect people! You of all people should know that after what we’ve been through!”

Lance flinched. “You’re right. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ve been on the run for half my life and having Hunk being tracked down was just making me extra paranoid. But it was wrong and I should have told you.”

Keith glared to the side, fingernails digging into the skin of his arms. He listened to the sound of Lance padding closer until the other boy stood before him. Keith refused to look up, digging his nails in harder.

“I promise I’ll never doubt you again,” Lance murmured. He reached out, hands closing on Keith’s wrists and drawing them away from his arms. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you at all.”

Keith glared down at their hands before looking up to meet Lance’s earnest gaze. “No more secrets,” he growled out. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

Lance gave him a soft smile, fingers slipping between Keith’s own as he squeezed his hands. “No more secrets,” he agreed. “You are officially in the Lance-loop.”

Keith couldn’t help but snort despite himself, feeling some of his anger melt away as Lance traced a path along the back of his hands with the stroke of his thumb. “I’m honored,” Keith huffed out.

Lance smiled and Keith’s cheeks heated up, eyes darting down to watch the way Lance’s thumbs moved back and forth across his skin. “I hope I’ve earned my place in the Keith-loop,” Lance murmured.

Keith smirked, managing to bring his eyes up to meet Lance’s despite the heat in his cheeks. “You’ll have to work a bit harder than that.”

Lance scoffed. Keith could feel the puff of air on his face, not having realized how close they’d gotten. His eyes widened, flitting between each of Lance’s own as the blush spread from his cheeks down to his neck. Lance had a relaxed smile on his face, gazing steadily at Keith, and he was so close, so beautiful, so-

A groan punctured the air and Lance and Keith leapt apart, spinning around to find Pidge shakily sitting up. She squinted at them, frowning. “Sorry, did I interrupt your bonding moment?” she called, slumping back down. “Don’t mind me, just in immense pain over here. Carry on.”

“The only thing you are is a pain in my ass,” Lance grumbled, although he still hurried over to kneel beside her.

“Ditto, McClain,” Pidge hissed, wincing as Lance started to feel around her head. “News flash, it all hurts.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lance reassured her. “Just gotta take some painkillers and don’t exert yourself for the next few days.”

“Thanks, nurse,” Pidge mumbled.

“I’m gonna tie these two up,” Keith called, heading over towards the unconscious thugs. “When we reach the next village we can give the town guard directions on where to find them.”

“Sounds good,” lance replied, rummaging through his satchel for the medicine.

Keith grabbed the woman under her arms and began to heave her over to a tree. His eyes flitted between her and Hunk. This situation hadn’t been anything like he’d thought. Hunk was innocent, and these two bounty hunters were clearly only in it for the money, not justice. Keith’s eyes fitted up to Lance. The longer he spent around the other boy, the more he was beginning to realize that the world wasn’t as black and white as he’d thought.

Chapter Text

The trees were thinning, replaced by rocky slopes with a few wild flowers dotted here and there. The trail was getting steeper as the towering pines gave way to towering cliffs and peaks. Their little group trudged down a steep hill, a fine mist in the air as water cascaded from one such cliff into a pool below.

“Can we break for lunch?” Lance called. “I’m starving!”

“Sure,” Hunk replied. “Let’s just get to the base of this waterfall first. It’ll be a nice place to rest.”

Only a few minutes later they were sprawled out along the mossy bank, eagerly wolfing down the fresh bread Hunk had baked in record time thanks to the aid of his magic. Keith sighed happily as he finished his share, breathing in the crisp air as it mixed with the bread’s aroma.

“Keith?”

The bounty hunter looked up to find Hunk smiling at him, a few pans gathered in his arms.

“Mind helping me wash dishes?”

“Of course,” Keith replied, getting to his feet.

The two headed towards the pool of water, Lance and Pidge’s conversation fading behind them. Hunk knelt on the bank, handing Keith a bar of soap. For a moment the two worked in companionable silence, Keith scrubbing before handing Hunk the washed dish, who dried it with a small gust of wind summoned by a wave of his hand. However, after a little while of this, Hunk spoke up.

“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he began.

“About what?” Keith asked, handing Hunk another dish.

“About saving me back there,” Hunk replied, his eyes holding steady to Keith’s. “I wanted to thank you. I know you’re a bounty hunter too and you don’t really know us that well yet. You could’ve just let them take me or turned me in yourself. After all, we weren’t exactly honest with you.” Hunk glanced away, a guilty expression flitting across his face. “But you chose to help us even when you didn’t understand what’s going on. That takes a lot of courage to make a decision like that. So thank you.”

Keith gave Hunk a small smile, turning back to his scrubbing. “I knew Lance wouldn’t associate with anyone truly bad. I just went with my gut. That usually works out for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Hunk said, smiling warmly. “And you’re right. Lance is a great judge of character. I’m glad he found you. Or I guess, you technically found him?”

Keith couldn’t help but blush slightly at the praise, ducking his head to try and hide behind his bangs. “I found him,” he replied quietly. “But he’s the one that wouldn’t leave.”

Hunk laughed. “Yeah, that’s just the way he is. He never gives up on the people he cares about.”

The pan slipped from Keith’s hand, falling into the water with a soapy splash, the water spraying directly into Keith’s face. He grimaced, pushing his soaked bangs out of his eyes.

“Whoops,” Hunk laughed. “Here, let me help.”

He did the same wave with his hand that he’d used to dry the dishes, sending a warm gust of wind right in Keith’s face. Keith could feel bangs being blown back over his head. When the wind stopped his hair didn’t fall back into place.

Keith frowned, reaching up to try and smooth it down. Just then laughter erupted from behind him. He whirled around, finding Lance doubled over and clutching at his sides. “Oh my god, Hunk!” Lance wheezed out. “What did you do to his hair?”

“I tried to help,” Hunk replied sheepishly.

Keith tried to scowl but he found his gaze catching on the dimples in Lance’s cheeks, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, how his irises sparkled as he laughed.

“Pidge!” Lance called. “You gotta see this!”

The little gremlin herself popped up from seemingly out of nowhere, a giant grin stretching across her face as she met Keith’s eyes. “Love the new look,” she called out.

“Shut up,” Keith grumbled, shaking himself. He finally reached up, wincing when he felt his bangs standing straight up in spikes. However, his hands had barely moved before he felt another pair land over his own. His eyes widened as he glanced up to meet Lance’s, still shining with amusement.

“I’ll fix it. You’ll just make it worse,” he murmured, his fingers combing through Keith’s bangs and gently sorting out the tangles.Keith glanced down, keeping his gaze firmly on the ground as he felt Pidge and Hunk’s eyes burning into them. He could practically feel the flush spreading down his neck with each passing moment.

“There!” Lance announced, stepping back to admire his work. He nodded, seemingly oblivious to the looks his two friends were giving him and to Keith’s own hopeless blush. “Unfortunately still a mullet, but I did what I could.”

Keith’s head snapped up then, narrowing his eyes at Lance’s cheeky grin. He reached down, swiping his hand through the water and splashing Lance directly in the face. For a moment nobody moved. Lance merely gaped at Keith, tail twitching while Keith bit his lip, trying desperately to conceal his smug grin. Then Pidge yelled, “Water fight!” and chaos broke loose.

No one was safe, the four all ending up in the pool, splashing and dunking each other under. Pidge used her helmet as a bucket and Hunk sent up mini tsunamis with his massive biceps and perhaps a little magical aid. At one point Lance got Keith in a headlock, dunking him under and ruffling his hair. Keith managed to brute strength his way out of Lance’s grip only to be tackled to the ground. The two rolled around in the shallows, wrestling and splashing water in each other’s faces. Eventually Lance managed to get him pinned in a hold Keith couldn’t seem to break, his arms straining as Lance pushed his wrists to the ground.

“Surrender and admit your defeat!” Lance crowed, Hunk and Pidge locked in a water battle to the death behind them.

“You’d have to actually defeat me first,” Keith huffed out, continuing to struggle.

Lance cocked a brow at him. “You might’ve started this war, mullet, but I’ve finished it!”

Keith gave one more push before giving in, panting for breath. “Fine,” he huffed out.

Lance beamed, his grip starting to loosen. In a flash Keith bolted up, pushing the other boy back. He managed to get halfway up before Lance was pinning him down again, grip tightening on his wrists. “Oldest trick in the book, Keith!” he exclaimed, smirking down at him.

Keith opened his mouth to retort but then froze, eyes widening. The momentum from his escape attempt had brought them down so that Lance’s face was hovering only a few inches above his. He swallowed thickly, his traitorous eyes darting down to Lance’s lips before shooting back up again. Lance’s own eyes widened as their situation dawned on him as well. For a moment they just stared at each other, their respective faces growing steadily redder. Then a giant wave crashed over them, sweeping Lance off of him and sending them both tumbling along the bank.

“Oops, sorry!” Hunk called.

“Hunk!” Lance sputtered, sitting up. “What about our secret pact?”

“You can’t have a pact, that’s cheating!” Pidge exclaimed.

“There are no rules on the battlefield, Pidgeon,” Lance called back. He turned to Keith who was still lying prone, a bit dazed. Keith blinked at the hand offered to him.

“Truce?” Lance asked.

Keith smiled, taking Lance’s hand as he was pulled into sitting up. “Truce,” he repeated.

“I mean I totally had you beat, but I am a generous soul,” Lance continued, beaming.

Keith scoffed, lazily swiping his arm to splash a little water on him. Lance recoiled dramatically.

“Betrayal!” He gasped. “Traitor to the pact!”

“I think we all need a truce,” Hunk spoke up. “We’ve gotta get moving again.”

“Boo!” Pidge called. “You’re just upset because I was winning.”

Hunk shrugged, grinning. “Gotta get out while I’m ahead.”

“How much longer until we reach your place?” Lance asked, getting to his feet. He reached up to wring the water from his shirt, wincing as a ton poured down into the pool below.

“Only a few more days,” Pidge replied. “We’ve already crossed the border into my clan’s territory.”

“You heard her. Get up, lazy bones,” Lance teased, nudging Keith with his foot.

Keith rose to his feet, locking eyes with the other boy. He gave Lance a smirk before grabbing him by his shoulders and spinning him around, leading him towards the others. “Hunk, you know what to do,” he said.

“Wait-” Lance began, eyes narrowed as they traveled between Hunk and Keith. Then they widened as the pieces clicked into place. “No no no-!” Lance cried out, trying to squirm away a little too late.

Hunk met Keith’s grin with one of his own before waving his hand, sending out a blast of wind. By the time he was done, Lance’s hair and tail most closely resembled a bottle brush. Pidge escaped by scaling a tree, but after a few minutes of hiking along in soggy clothes she begrudgingly let Hunk blow dry her too.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, the group starting to grow weary as the day neared its close. A ravine stretched before them, carved out by a now dried up creek. Keith trudged along, the others beside him.

“Let’s set up camp after this,” Lance called. There was a general muttering of agreement.

Keith’s gaze trailed along the top of the ravine, looking at the roots and bushes peeking over the edge. He was about to look away again when one bush rustled. Keith narrowed his eyes. There was no breeze and it was the only one of the cluster of foliage to have moved. In all likelihood it was just some small animal, but perhaps he should tell the others to be on guard just in case.

Keith was just opening his mouth to speak when he ran into something solid.He stumbled back, eyes taking in Lance. The other boy had frozen in his tracks, his ears flicking and his tail puffed up to twice its size. All of a sudden Lance spun around, rushing at him at the same time that he yelled, “Watch out!”

Keith didn’t have time to react before Lance had tackled him to the ground. There was a sound like thunder and something big rushed past them, crashing into the opposite canyon wall. Pidge swore colorfully as Keith and Lance both scrambled to their feet. A boulder lay embedded in the earth, and the pair whipped around towards where it came from. A chorus of jeers and cries came down from above, faces peeking out of the foliage. One such figure stepped forward and Keith’s blood boiled.

“James!” he yelled.

“Nice to see you, too,” the other boy called down, a smirk fixed on his face.

“You know this jerk?” Pidge asked.

“You’re being too kind with that nickname,” Lance muttered.

“Guys?” Hunk whispered. “What’s going on?”

“I see you still have the cat,” James called out. “Although this time he doesn’t seem to be your prisoner. Had a change of heart?”

“What are you doing here?” Keith bit back.

You didn’t think I’d let you go that easily?” James replied. “You still have my bounty.”

“Look, we’ve been over this,” Lance yelled up at him. “I’m flattered, really fellas, but I’m spoken for. You all need to learn to take a hint.”

“It still talks, does it?” James replied.

“Hey loser!” Pidge yelled. “I have no idea who you are, but fuck you!”

James’ expression changed so that it looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon. Lance snickered, and Keith himself bit back a smile. James studied the two people he hadn’t met through narrowed eyes. When his gaze fell on Hunk, his eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out. “You’ve really brought me the mother-load this time.”

Lance growled, stepping in front of his friend. Pidge drew her ax and Keith’s hand flew to the hilt of her dagger. James’ eyes slid over all of them again, finally landing on Keith.

“This is rather hysterical, really,” he called out. “You were always so uptight, such a stickler for the rules. And now you’re traveling around with some of the most wanted criminals in all the kingdoms. I never would have guessed you’d stoop this low, Keith.”

“You don’t know anything!” Keith yelled back.

“I know how much those two are worth,” James replied, gesturing to Lance and Hunk, “and I know that they’ll be coming with me.”

Lance flexed his claws. “I think it’s high time someone learned what rejection feels like.”

James grinned. He raised his hand, then brought it down. All at once his men charged down the side of the ravine, whooping battle cries and waving their weapons in the air. Keith grit his teeth, quickly scanning their opponents. There were quite a few more of them then the last time James had attacked them. Their little group was easily outnumbered. Keith drew his dagger. There was no way he was letting James lay a finger on Lance.

What happened next was a blur. Keith seemed to fly from enemy to enemy, Lance at his side. The two worked effortlessly together, Lance kicking and flipping while Keith lashed out and wore their opponents down. The took down one, then two, then more and more until Keith lost count. Pidge was similarly kicking ass. Her ax was a force to be reckoned with, and a force none of the thugs seemed too keen to get close to. Keith had been expecting this to be difficult, but it was almost laughable how quickly their enemies went down as they all worked together. Then Hunk stepped into the fight.

The ground shook. At first Keith barely noticed, attributing it to all the motion of fighting. But it grew and grew, until it was unmistakable that the very earth was trembling beneath their feet. Little cracks started to split the ground, bits of the ravine walls began to break off and tumble down. Hunk raised his hands up in the sky. Then he brought his fists down, hitting the earth.

Everyone was knocked off their feet, a shock wave rippling across the ground. Dust rained down on them, blotting out the sun. Keith scrambled to his feet alongside Lance and Pidge, quickly dispatching the remaining fighters before they could even get back up. Then Keith turned to Hunk, awed as he rose up from where he was kneeling on the ground.

Just then something collided with Keith, knocking him over. James filled his vision, face flushed with rage. There was a flash of metal as he raised his sword up. However, he didn’t even get the chance to bring it down before he was tackled by three different people. Keith scrambled to his feet, watching as Lance, Pidge, and Hunk all grappled with James, easily getting his arms pinned between the three of them.

“Let go of me!” James screamed, kicking and thrashing around, but it was no use with so many people restraining him.

“This reminds me of old times, huh Jamie?” Lance said with a dangerous smirk.

“Don’t call me that!” James shouted.

“So who is this loser, exactly?” Pidge gasped out, chest heaving from the fight.

“He used to ambush me and take my bounties for himself,” Keith panted, glaringly darkly at the other man.

“So I take it we really don’t like him,” Hunk said, frowning down at James almost like a disapproving parent. Keith still couldn’t get over the whiplash of Hunk’s sweet personality and the absolute raw power he’d just seen the other man release. However, there was a time and place for questions, and now clearly wasn’t it.

“He tried to attack me and Keith once before.” Lance announced. “We kicked his sorry ass then too. You guys should’ve seen me! I took a guy out with my hands tied! Then Keith threw a knife at me because he’s an ungrateful and bitter man.”

“Hey!” Keith exclaimed, meeting Lance’s teasing grin with a glare.

“I said get the fuck off me!” James yelled, still trying to struggle.

Keith’s glare fell on him, and this time there was actual danger behind the gaze. He marched up to James, staring down at him.

“Do not come after us ever again,” he breathed out, voice low and cold. Even James paused at that, eyes widening as he swallowed thickly. Keith’s gaze shot up to the others then. “Leave him,” he commanded.

His friends did so, throwing James on the ground. The man gasped trying to catch his breath. Keith scowled down at him one last time before turning his back on him, beginning to walk away. He could hear as the others fell in behind him.

“You’ll regret this Kogane!” James screamed out. “You’ll see! I’m gonna take that stupid cat from you one way or another!”

Keith paused. His fist clenched. Then he whirled around, only to come face to face with Lance. Lance instantly reached up, putting his hands on Keith’s chest to hold him back, although Keith made no move to go against him. “Leave him,” Lance murmured. “He’s not worth it.”

Keith clenched his jaw, glancing past Lance’s shoulder to glower at where James was on his knees in the dirt. Hunk brushed passed them then, standing between his friends and the defeated group of enemies. He raised his hands to the sky just as Keith had seen him do before when he made the earth roll like thunder. However, instead of slamming his fists on the ground, Hunk pushed his hands to the side. All of a sudden a giant section earth and rock collapsed. It slid down the side of the ravine, roaring across the ground until coming to rest into a giant pile of rubble, closing James’ group off from their own. Once again Keith stood there in awe, staring at the other man.

Hunk turned. “Let’s go,” he said, tone flat. Keith watched him walk passed, his shocked gaze sliding over to Lance. For his part, Lance was beaming like a kid who’d just won the grand prize at a carnival. He gave Keith a wink before starting after Hunk, stretching his arms out as he walked. Pidge punched Keith in the shoulder as she passed, grinning. Keith glanced back at the rock slide. He glanced at his departing friends, heading off towards the now setting sun. Then he took off, jogging to catch up.

Chapter Text

The mountains soared higher and higher around them, all trees now replaced by shifting drifts of snow. Keith pulled his cloak further around himself, shivering in the cold wind. Then they rounded a bend in the narrow trail and the breath left his lungs.

Before them, embedded in the side of the tallest peak, was an enormous door. It was easily 80 feet in height, comprised of interlocking parts that formed an intricate pattern of greens and browns and gold. Keith gaped, too caught up in staring at the structure to notice Lance’s amused grin.

“Just wait until you see the inside,” Lance said, sauntering past. Keith shook himself, eyes darting to Pidge at the head of the group. When Lance had told him that she was loaded, he had underestimated what that meant. He also couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for Lance, who’d had the guts to break into this place in the past.

It took a few more minutes of walking before they even reached the door, but by the time they had Keith was more than ready to get out of the cold. He rubbed his hands together, staring up at the shapes and patterns on its surface.

Pidge stepped forward, grabbing a door knocker that was seamlessly disguised among the twisting metal. She let it fall, a mighty clang reverberating off the rocky slopes around them. There were a few moments of silence. Then, suddenly, a much smaller door opened up before them. Pidge shrugged, shooting Keith a grin.

“The big door’s mostly just for show. It’s a lot easier getting in and out this way.” Then she stepped through the entry, Hunk and Lance following close behind. Keith took a breath before stepping in himself.

Beyond was an enormous cavern. Giant crystals hung from the ceiling, carved into glittering chandeliers, their glow illuminating the space. Great stone pillars soared high above them, similarly carved with symbols. A giant curving staircase was hewn from the stone, leading to a broad landing overlooking the hall. The tapestries and rugs around the cavern gave a soft edge to all the hard rock.

“Wow,” Keith breathed out, eyes catching on a giant green crystal hanging right in the center of the ceiling.

“Told you,” Lance said. Keith could hear the smirk in his voice without even having to look.

“Mom’s probably in her office,” Pidge spoke up, “but she might be doing some important junk, so we should go check my dad’s laboratory. He doesn’t care about being interrupted.”

She set off, heading towards a doorway on the right side of the hall. The others followed after, Hunk and Lance walking along casually while Keith gawked at his surroundings.

“How many people live here?” Keith asked, trying to imagine how many could possibly fit in such an enormous space.

“My family and a few servants,” Pidge called back. “It’s me, my parents, and my brother. But mom and dad are the leaders of our clan, plus mom is the representative of the dwarven coalition, so there’s a bunch of times when we’re hosting hundreds of people at once. Personally, I like it better when it’s empty. Just doesn’t feel like home otherwise.”

The group was heading down a hallway now, adorned with more tapestries and glowing crystals. Keith turned to Lance, trying to gauge his reaction to all this. Lance caught his eye, shrugging.

“I warned you these two are rich,” he said, gesturing to their friends. “Now you know why I tried to steal from Pidge.”

“Emphasis on tried,” Pidge called back.

“Hey, technically I succeeded!” Lance retorted. “You guys didn’t catch up to me until after I had pawned it off. Besides, I thought you’d just be some spoiled brat. How was I supposed to know you could ever track me down?”

“And kick your ass?” Pidge added, shooting a smirk over her shoulder.

Lance pouted. “It was two to one and you snuck up on me!”

“Sorry about that, buddy,” Hunk spoke up, patting Lance on the back.

Lance shrugged. “I kind of deserved it. I’m just glad you guys didn’t have Keith with you back then. He probably would’ve chopped my head off.”

Keith’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t do that!” he exclaimed indignantly.

Lance snickered. “I’m being sarcastic, mullet. I know you would’ve just kidnapped me in the name of justice of whatever.”

Keith frowned, resisting the urge to correct Lance with the word ‘arrest.’

Their group came upon a door then, this one much more normal sized than the front entrance. Pidge paused in front of it, knocking. A muffled, “Come in!” came from the other side, and she pushed the door open.

The room beyond was about half the size of the giant entrance hall. It was full of tables and shelves, cluttered with metal scraps, various plants and herbs, scrolls, crystal shards, and so on. A skylight took up most of the ceiling above them, angled slightly so that the snow would slide off. Positioned below this sky light, hanging from the ceiling on chains, was a large telescope seemingly pieced together from different bits of metal, leather, and wood. Peering into this telescope was a small man, his face scrunched up at whatever he was viewing through the lens.

“Adjust it a little to the right,” the man called out, not having yet noticed his visitors. A boy around Keith’s age appeared from behind a pile of books, cranking a wheel that slowly spun the telescope to the right.

“Matt!” Pidge called out, beaming as she ran straight at the boy. Matt turned around, eyes widening in surprise the moment before his sister tackled him to the ground. He wheezed, grabbing at her and ruffling her hair while she tried to squirm away.

“So, the wandering vagabond has returned home,” Matt said, sitting up with a grin.

“Says the nerd who’s too busy with his cipher club to ever visit,” Pidge shot back, finally succeeding in wriggling from his hold.

“Hey, I’m back now!” Matt pointed out.

“Pidge!” the man at the telescope exclaimed with a warm smile. “We didn’t know you were coming home!”

Keith took a good look at the family before him. Matt was almost a carbon copy of Pidge, except of course older and slightly taller. His hair was also more tamed than Pidge’s wavy snarl. The man Keith assumed to be their father had white peppered hair and a pair of spectacles framing his face. A few wrinkles creased his skin, exaggerated by the crinkling of his eyes as he smiled at his children. Keith looked away, his hand curling into a fist as he ran his thumb over the back of his knuckles.

“Sorry, dad,” Pidge spoke up, bringing Keith’s attention back to her. “I didn’t know if a letter would even reach you guys before we did.”

“That’s fine,” the man waved his hand dismissively as he pulled Pidge into a hug. “We’re always happy to have you home.” He glanced up then, eyes catching on the others in the room. “Lance, Hunk,” he called out, smile still in place. “It’s good to see you boys again.”

“It’s good to see you Mr. Holt,” Lance replied.

“I hope we aren’t intruding,” Hunk added.

“Not at all,” Pidge’s dad replied, his gaze landing on Keith then. “Who’s your new friend?”

“That’s Keith,” Pidge informed him. “Lance ditched us for him but we caught up with them.”

“That’s not what happened!” Lance exclaimed indignantly. “I ditched you guys against my will.”

Mr. Holt’s brows were raised, staring at the three in confusion.

“We’ll explain at dinner,” Pidge said. “But Keith’s actually the reason we came back here. We need some help finding a person and we were hoping you and mom could help?”

“Who is this person?” Mr. Holt asked.

“Zarkon,” Pidge replied. “He’s… a bad dude?” She looked to Keith for explanation.

Keith grit his teeth before speaking up. “He’d be a political figure. Not a leader, but someone more behind the scenes.”

“A political figure?” Mr. Holt asked. “What kingdom?”

“I- I’m not sure,” Keith replied, glancing away. “He moves around, so he’s hard to track.”

Mr. Holt frowned. “Is there anything more specific you can give me? A name and a vague position in politics isn’t much to go on.”

Keith’s thumb began to run across his knuckles once more. He didn’t meet the other man’s eyes. “No,” Keith said, voice quiet. “That’s all I know.”

There was a long pause. Finally, Mr. Holt broke it with, “I see. And why are you looking for this man exactly?”

Keith swallowed. “I’m a bounty hunter, Mr. Holt. I track down criminals and bring them to justice. And this man has brought suffering to a lot of people.”

“What kind of suffering?” Mr. Holt asked.

“He’s-” Keith glanced around, finding all eyes on him. “He, um. He tries to get close to world leaders. Advise them. Lead them astray. He wants power, but he also wants protection so he doesn’t work in the open.” Keith shrunk in on himself. He knew how crazy this sounded. He’d heard it all before; people calling it conspiracy theories and accusing him of making it all up. But he also knew it was true.

“It’s strange,” Mr. Holt spoke up. “I think I would’ve heard of such a man before.”

“That’s what makes him so dangerous,” Keith replied, voice firm.

The two stared each other down, Mr. Holt trying to read him while Keith held his gaze.

“If it helps,” Pidge spoke up, breaking the tense atmosphere, “Keith did save our butts a few days ago. We got jumped by a couple of bounty hunters trying to bring Hunk back to his family. Keith was the only one they didn’t trap or knock out and he managed to fight them off.”

“Plus, he saved me a few times before Pidge and Hunk joined back up with us,” Lance added, stepping forward.

“And when he saved us from the bounty hunters, he didn’t even know what was going on,” Hunk said. “We kind of kept him in the dark on the whole thing, but he saved us anyway because he’s a good guy.” Hunk’s hand landed on Keith’s shoulder then, and he turned to find the other boy giving him a warm smile. Keith gave his own small smile in return.

“The least we can do is help him in return,” Lance added, Pidge nodding in agreement.

There was another long silence as Mr. Holt studied the group. Then, finally, he nodded himself. “I’ll talk to Colleen. See if she’s heard anything about this Zarkon character.”

“Thanks, dad!” Pidge beamed, giving her father a hug.

Keith let out a breath, catching the other man’s eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Holt,” he said.

“Please, call me Sam,” the man replied, smiling warmly. “Pidge, why don’t you show our guests to their rooms.”

“Yes!” Lance exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. “I am so ready to sleep in a real bed again!”

Keith was just turning to follow after his friends when his eyes landed on Matt, who’d remained silent for the whole conversation. Matt was staring at him with wide eyes, shock written across his features. He seemed frozen in place, but once his eyes met Keith he shook himself, turning away quickly. Keith frowned, unable to decipher the other boy’s strange reaction. He shot Matt one more puzzled look before heading after his friends.

Pidge brought them to her room first, and her room, like seemingly everything else in this place, was huge. Despite this, every surface somehow managed to be cluttered with various papers and trinkets. A giant green crystal hung from above, illuminating the mess.

“What’s all this?” Keith asked, picking up what most closely resembled a crumpled ball of metal and leather.

“Well, that one’s a failed prototype I made back when I was a kid,” Pidge replied, glancing the object over. “I can’t even remember what it was supposed to do anymore.”
“Prototype?” Keith asked, brows scrunched together.

“Pidge likes to nerd around and make weird contraptions,” Lance supplied. “She’s basically trying to create life like some kind of mad scientist.”

“It’s theoretically possible!” Pidge snapped. “Elementals are a thing that already exists. The next logical step would be a fully sentient life form!”

What’s an elemental?” Keith asked, his confusion only growing.

“It’s a very advanced form of magic,” Hunk supplied. “Basically you can create a large, humanoid form out of some type of matter, like mud or ice. For a short period of time you can grant it limited sentience. Usually it’s used like a temporary mercenary to help defend people. But it doesn’t have real autonomy and the magic can only be sustained temporarily before it falls apart.”

“But it’s proof of a concept,” Pidge argued. “If that can be accomplished, then with a permanent and powerful source of magic, it stands to reason that a being can be created with full autonomy!”

Lance slunk in next to Keith, nudging him in the side. He cocked his head towards where Hunk and Pidge where continuing their conversation, whispering out “Nerds,” with a fond smile. Keith shook his head, a smile growing on his own face.

Lance headed further into the room, Keith following after. The other boy paused at what Keith had assumed was some kind of ridiculously huge conference table. He swept some of the junk aside before sitting down. Keith narrowed his eyes at the supposed table. Instead of wood on its surface there was soft green fabric that sank under Lance’s weight. He spotted a pillow among the clutter and Keith’s eyes widened.

“That’s a bed?” Keith exclaimed. The not-a-table was easily the size of a small whale. All of them could have slept comfortably in it. In fact, three times as many could have fit just fine.

“Crazy right?” Lance replied, beaming up at him.

“You know,” Pidge called, marching over to the two of them. “There’s an actual reason why it’s so big. We didn’t just get a huge bed to show off.” She sat down next to Lance, crossing her arms.

“No offense, Pidge,” Lance replied, “But what other reason could there possibly be for having a bed a hundred times your size?”

Pidge frowned at him. “It’s dwarven tradition. Whenever dwarves travel anywhere, they sleep in the same room with their whole family. Dad said it was a safety thing carried down from our ancestors. Our clans used to have it pretty rough in the world, so we’d stick together. Now it’s not really necessary. No one’s getting jumped at a banquet in my parent’s house. But they still practice the tradition.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Lance replied. His ears flattened a bit. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

Pidge shrugged. “Well, now you know. Plus, there’s no reason for me to have this big of a bed in my own room since this is our house. So in this case, it kind of is a show-off thing.” She gave Lance a toothy grin, punching him in the arm.

Just then Matt popped his head into the room. “It’s dinner time. Dad says you don’t get any, Pidge!”

Just like that he popped back out, Pidge leaping up and yelling, “Screw you, Matt!”

Keith watched her run after him with a puzzled glance. When he turned to Lance the other boy merely shrugged. “That’s just what it’s like to have siblings.” Hunk nodded sagely beside him, the three heading out of the room.

Unsurprisingly the dining room was enormous, adorned with giant glowing crystals and finely woven tapestries. Skylights showed the dusky clouds above and a fireplace roared against one wall. Pidge’s mother, Colleen, sat beside her husband at the head of the long table. She was more serious than her husband, a bit of a regal manner about her. Her sandy hair was streaked with gray and her posture was the stiffest Keith had ever seen. Still, she smiled kindly at him when he was introduced.

The food itself was fantastic, although Hunk still had it beat in terms of his cooking prowess. Pidge took the time to explain how Lance and Keith had actually met, which caused much amusement, to Keith’s mortification. Then Samuel Holt brought up Zarkon.

Disappointingly, Colleen had never heard of him either. However, she promised to look into the matter, which was better than nothing. Matt, Keith noticed, choked on his food when Zarkon was mentioned, although he played it off as having swallowed funny. He was also very insistent that his parents be discreet about looking into the man, saying that, “He sounded dangerous.” Keith watched him throughout dinner, trying to put the pieces in place, but Matt never once looked his way.

It was after dinner, when he and his friends were headed back to Pidge’s room, that it happened. Keith was trailing behind, perhaps staring a bit too fondly at Lance as the other boy recounted a funny story. Suddenly, a hand closed around his wrist, yanking him from the hallway and into a side room. Keith snarled, whipping out his dagger and pressing it against his assailant’s throat.

“Whoa!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “I come in peace!”

Keith frowned, leaning back to find Matt holding his hands up in surrender.

“What are you doing?” Keith snapped, eyeing the other boy suspiciously.

“I, uh, just wanted to ask you something.” Matt replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Keith crossed his arms, waiting. “Um, are you- are you a friend of Lyon?” Matt blurted out.

“What?” Keith asked, brows furrowing.

“Nevermind!” Matt said quickly. “I just thought maybe you knew, but I was wrong! So I’ll just-” Matt gestured awkwardly towards the door right as Lance poked his head in.

“Keith,” Lance began, “What-” He trailed off, taking in the sight of Matt nervously inching towards the door and Keith with his dagger out. “Um, what are you two doing?”

“Just thought Keith was someone I knew, but I was wrong!” Matt announced, quickly brushing passed Lance. “See you two later!” With that he was gone, hurrying down the hall.

“What was that all about?” Lance asked. Keith shrugged, walking over to him. Lance’s eyes slid down to his dagger, a grin slipping onto his face. “Were you going to stab him?”

“He startled me,” Keith grumbled, sheathing the weapon as he followed Lance out into the hall. There was silence for a moment while the two of them walked.

“Was he trying to hit on you or something?” Lance asked, voice light and casual. His tail flicked against Keith’s side.

“What?” Keith asked, face heating up. “No! He asked me if I knew a lion?”

“If you knew what now?” Lance replied, his tail seeming to settle.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Keith replied, averting his eyes as he willed the heat in his cheeks to go down.

The pair entered Pidge’s room, their two friends glancing up.

“There you guys are,” Hunk called, smiling.

“Took you two a while to get here,” Pidge added, smirking at them.

“Matt pulled Keith away and asked him about a lion, apparently,” Lance announced, sitting beside his friends on the bed.

“He did what?” Hunk asked, sounding bewildered.

“It’s probably some code from his geek club,” Pidge said, shrugging dismissively. “I bet he was trying to see if you were a fellow nerd.”

Keith frowned, sitting beside Lance. “Yeah, probably,” he murmured. He clenched his hands into fists, watching as his thumb ran back and forth across the knuckles.

Chapter Text

Pidge treated Keith to a tour of her various gadgets while Hunk and Lance chatted in the background. Apparently they were fueled by some kind of magic crystal shards supplied to her by Matt and Hunk over the years. Keith honestly didn’t know all that much about magic, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was such a good idea to have been giving child Pidge a bunch of sharp rocks that could maybe explode. They’d barely gotten through a quarter of the room when Lance called out, “Keith, come look!”

Keith turned around to find Lance’s hand on fire. He froze, gaze flickering between the flame and Lance’s relaxed grin. Hunk sat right beside him, seemingly just as unbothered by this.

“Lance, you-” Keith began, frantically rushing over.

“Relax buddy, I’m fine,” Lance laughed out. “It’s magic! Hunk’s been tutoring me whenever we get the chance. It took me months before I could produce a little flame like this.”

Now that he was closer, Keith could see that the tiny ball of fire was in fact hovering above Lance’s palm rather than actually searing the skin. He sat down next to Lance, eyes fixed intently on the fire as though he expected it to explode.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Lance asked, beaming.

Keith nodded, narrowing his eyes at the fire. He heard a snort and glanced up to see Lance biting his lip, failing to hide an amused grin.

“Do you want to try?” Hunk asked, leaning passed Lance to smile at Keith. “The process is pretty simple. It just takes a while to learn how to channel your energy into actually producing a flame.”

Keith paused,eyes flicking uncertainly back to the bright ball hovering over Lance’s hand.

“Come on, Keith,” Lance said, nudging him. “It’s fun! Just give it a try.”

Keith pursed his lips before letting out a sigh. “Alright,” he agreed, prompting a cheer from Lance.

“Hunk’s a good teacher,” Pidge said as she sat down on Keith’s other side. “It’s easy to get frustrated, but just listen to him and it’ll work eventually.”

“Aww, thank you, Pidge,” Hunk said, smiling at her. “Okay, to start off, close your eyes and try to clear your mind as much as possible.”

Keith frowned, letting his eyes slip shut. He tried not to think, but it was hard when he could feel three pairs of eyes burning into him. It didn’t help that Lance was pressed right up against his side, either. He could feel every time the other boy shifted on the giant bed.

“Now, hold your hand out in front of you, open and palm up.”

Keith did so, brows furrowing as he felt Lance lean in closer.

“Let everything else fall away except for yourself. Focusing on your breathing. Take note of every breath. Feel every time your muscles shift, how your blood pulses through you. Focus on this and only this. Be aware of only your own body, your own presence.”

Lance’s tail brushed against Keith’s back.

“Now, take that energy, that essence of yourself, and channel it right into the palm of your hand. Feel your life force, and turn it into fire.”

Keith grit his teeth. He had no idea what this life force was supposed to be. He had no idea how he could only focus on himself with Lance right against his side. But he tried anyways. Lance was pressed against him like a red hot poker on his skin, so he took that heat and let it course through him. He pictured fire, pictured his breath coming out as steam, his muscles becoming heat, his bones cracking until they burned, burned, burned.

Someone screamed. Keith’s eyes flew open, his body lurching back as an enormous arc of fire shot across the room. It was only there a moment, just a flash of searing flame and smoke, before dissipating into the air. For a moment no one moved, wide eyes all fixed on him.

Then Keith grit his teeth, hands balled into fists as he leapt up. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, before hurrying from the room.

“Keith!” Lance called, but the other boy was already gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Pidge asked, voice shaky.

“I don’t know,” Hunk replied, glancing with worry towards the door. “I’ve never seen that before. It took me months to even produce a small flame back when I was learning.”

“I’m gonna go find him,” Lance announced, getting off the bed. He didn’t wait for his friends to reply before he was skidding into the hall, head whipping back and forth. There was no sign of Keith, and Lance cursed as he picked a direction and took off running.

It took almost an hour of searching before he found the other boy. Pidge’s house wasn’t exactly small, and Lance was just beginning to worry that Keith had left altogether when he heard a thud and a muffled curse coming from a room off the hall. Lance poked his head inside to find some sort of storage chamber, crates and cluttered shelves taking up the space. He also found Keith, the other boy standing with his back to him, chest heaving.

“Keith!” Lance called.

Keith whirled around, eyes like a deer caught in headlights. He turned away quickly, hunched in on himself. His hands were clenched to fists, trembling where they hung at his sides. Blood was dripping down one of them.

“Keith, what did you do?” Lance asked, quickly crossing over to him.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said brokenly.

Lance reached out towards him but the moment his hand made contact Keith jerked away, flinching.

“Hey,” Lance said, voice coming out soft. “I just want to help. You’re bleeding.”

Keith glanced down at his fist as if only just noticing. Lance spotted a patch of blood on the wall in front of them and frowned. He reached out again, and this time Keith let him take his arm. Lance inspected the damage. Sure enough, his knuckles were split open and bleeding. Lance sighed.

“Come on,” he said, gently tugging Keith’s wrists. “Pidge can get some bandages.”

“No, Lance,” Keith replied, tugging his arm away. “I’m fine.”

“Keith, you’re dripping blood everywhere,” Lance deadpanned.

“It’ll close up,” Keith said stubbornly, scowling down at the floor.

“Well, you can’t just hide in a closet forever.”

Keith winced. “You’re right, I should just-”

Keith made to brush passed Lance but the other boy caught his shoulder holding him in place. “Woah, hold up, mullet. You’re not running off on me again.”

“But I just-!” Keith waved his hand vaguely in the air before snatching it back towards himself quickly, eyes wide like he expected more fire to burst forth.

“Keith, not gonna lie, I have no idea what just happened. But whatever it was, it was super cool.”

Keith’s eyes grew even bigger, finally meeting Lance’s gaze.

“I mean, almost burning down Pidge’s room wasn’t great, but you literally created a giant fireball like it was nothing. That was so badass!”

“It’s not cool, Lance!” Keith snapped, stepping away from his touch. “I could’ve just hurt you! I couldn’t control it, and I don’t even know how it happened! I was trying to focus but it wasn’t working and then there was just fire and-” Keith trailed off, gritting his teeth as he glared down at the floor.

There was a moment’s pause before Lance said, “I’m sorry.”

Keith’s gaze snapped up, bewildered. “What are you sorry for?”

“I mean, it’s incredible that you could do something like that so quickly, but I get how that scared you. None of us were expecting it. I guess it could’ve gone wrong pretty fast.”

Keith glanced away again, thumb running across his bleeding knuckles.

“But no one got hurt,” Lance continued, taking a step closer. “It was an accident. No one’s gonna blame you, Keith. We’re just worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Keith said dismissively.

“Then why did you just punch a wall?” Lance asked, raising a brow.

Keith turned his head away, using his hair to shield his face. Lance sighed, stepping in closer. He reached out and slowly took each of Keith’s hands in his own, taking extra care with the injured one.

“Keith,” Lance murmured. “I already told you, remember? I trust you.”

Keith’s eyes widened, slowly turning to meet Lance’s.

“I’d trust you with my life. I already have, and you’ve never let me down. A little fire isn’t going to change that.”

Keith kept very still, his eyes flitting between each of Lance’s own. Lance could feel the way his hands quaked.

“I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you,” Keith whispered, his voice raw with the honesty of the words.

Lance stepped in closer, barely any space between them now. “I’d forgive you even then.”

He released Keith’s hands only to wrap his arms around the other boy. Keith melted into the embrace, burying his face in Lance’s shoulder as his fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. Lance simply held him close, hand running soothingly across Keith’s back as the other boy trembled against him. For a long time they stayed that way, the world only big enough for them in this moment.

It was Lance who first broke the silence, arms squeezing tighter as he spoke. “We need to get back. Pidge and Hunk will definitely be worried by now.”

Keith pulled back slowly, gaze cast down. “I need to apologize to them,” he murmured.

“You can try, but they know it’s not your fault,” Lance said, leaving one hand resting on Keith’s shoulder. “Hunk’s probably gonna bake you cookies on the spot and Pidge’ll stare at you with that worried frown she gets when she doesn’t know what to say.” He paused, giving Keith a soft smile as the other boy continued to brood in his thoughts. “C’mon,” Lance said, hand slipping down Keith’s arm to tangle their fingers together. “Let’s go.”

Keith nodded, looking up to meet Lance’s eyes. For a moment, Lance froze, caught in that gaze. There was an intensity there he couldn’t quite place, swirling like a storm before him. Lance shook himself, tugging Keith’s hand gently as the two set off. Keith followed, eyes on Lance the whole way.

Lance’s prediction turned out to be almost spot on. Hunk made them all hot chocolate to drink together and Pidge sat at Keith’s side, big eyes on him even as she couldn’t seem to find any words. Keith tried to get through an apology but neither of them would hear it, assuring him that they didn’t blame him for anything. Lance was able to quickly turn the tense mood around, regailing them with more of his wild stories. Even Keith couldn’t suppress a smile by the end of it.

“Well, it’s getting late,” Hunk spoke up, collecting their now empty mugs. “We should all get some rest.”

“Good idea,” Pidge said around a yawn. “You guys remember where the guest rooms are?”

“Yep,” Lance said,giving her a two-fingered salute. “See you in the morning, Pidgeon.”

“If you get lost then don’t bother me, I’ll be asleep,” she replied, sinking down into her pillows.

“I’ll have you know I have a great sense of direction,” Lance sniffed.

“Goodnight, Pidge,” Hunk called, waving as he headed towards the door.

“Night,” Pidge called back, followed by another yawn. Her eyes landed on Keith then, and he could see a flicker of that worry there. “Goodnight, Keith,” she said, watching him earnestly.

“Goodnight,” Keith replied, giving her a small smile. He followed Lance and Hunk out the door, leaving their friend to get some rest.

The three of them only had a short walk before they reached the long hallway that connected all the guest rooms. “I’ll take this one,” Hunk announced, stopping at one of the doors. “See you two tomorrow,” he said, smiling warmly as he stepped inside.

“Night, man!” Lance called at the same time Keith said, “Goodnight.”

They stopped at the next door down, Lance pushing it open and marching inside. “This can be your room, mullet,” he announced, Keith trailing after him.

The room was pretty much identical to Pidge’s except without the mess. There were a few ornate if bare pieces of furniture and a ridiculously huge bed. Keith swallowed as he eyed the space, feeling small in its expansiveness.

Lance turned to head back out of the room. He paused at Keith, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling. “Night, mullet. I’ll be the next one over if you need anything.”

Lance had barely taken a step when Keith spun around, reaching out to grab onto his wrist. “Lance, wait!” he said, voice coming out frantic.

Lance paused, quirking a brow at him.

“I just, um-” Keith swallowed, looking everywhere but at his face. “Could you stay? This place is just so big and I-” He trailed off, tipping his head down to hide behind his bangs.

Lance’s hand moved up to lace their fingers together and Keith glanced up uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Lance said, his voice coming out slightly high pitched. He cleared his throat before adding, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Keith’s brow furrowed. “What’s a sleepover?” he asked.

Lance choked on air. “Keith,” he said, voice sounding strained. “No, no, no, you can’t tell me you’ve never had a sleepover before!”

Keith glanced away, fidgeting slightly.

“Alright,” Lance continued, suddenly all-business. “Here’s the deal. It’s late and I don’t want to disturb Hunk and Pidge, but tomorrow night we’re all having a sleepover.”

“I still don’t even know what that is,” Keith pointed out.

“You’ll see,” Lance replied. Keith found his eyes catching on the way Lance’s lips quirked up at one corner. “Tomorrow we’ll give you the sleepover experience of a lifetime! Tonight, we’re just gonna focus on the sleeping part, because I’m beat.”

He led Keith over to the bed, throwing his satchel down on the end of it.

“Sit,” Lance commanded. “I’m gonna put some fresh bandages on your hand.”

Keith did as he was told, watching Lance unwrap the bloody bandages he’d only just put on Keith’s hand when they’d gone back to Pidge’s room. Lance clicked his tongue approvingly when he saw that the bleeding had stopped, fetching some more bandages from his satchel. Keith studied him through his eyelashes as Lance worked. The other boy crinkled his brows when he concentrated, sometimes scrunching up his nose. It was adorable, and Keith could’ve stared all night if given the chance.

“Alright,” Lance spoke up, sitting back. “Let me see that chicken bite.”

Keith sighed, bringing his leg up and pushing the cuff of his leggings out of the way. The wound was pretty much fully healed now, just a scar left in its place.

Lance whistled. “Now that’s a battle scar to be proud of.”

“Shut up,” Keith replied, kicking Lance gently with his foot.

Lance snickered, reaching out to roll Keith’s pants leg back down. Keith tried his absolute best not to blush, but he could feel from the heat in his cheeks that he was failing miserably.

“For real though, it’ll be a great story to tell your grandkids one day.”

Keith paused. He’d never really thought about having grandkids before. But now that he stopped to consider it, he quite liked the idea. His eyes trailed back to Lance yet again, as if drawn by a magnet. Yes, he liked the idea a lot.

“Let me see your wound,” Keith said quietly.

Lance nodded, pulling his shirt off. Keith reached forward, fingers gently landing on the bandages that covered Lance’s torso. Slowly he unwrapped them, layer by layer falling away. Lance was very still under his touch, and for once he didn’t seem to have a word to say.

The last layer fell away, revealing the stab wound. It was red and puffy, but the skin had mostly sealed up at this point. Keith placed his palm gently over it. Lance swallowed, and Keith’s eyes darted up to trace the movement of his throat.

“I think in a few more days I won’t need bandages anymore,” Lance spoke up, voice sounding hoarse.

Keith hummed in agreement, thumb brushing once over the wound before he drew his hand away. He reached for the bandages, carefully winding a fresh layer around Lance’s body. The other boy continued to hold perfectly still, his chest barely even rising as Keith worked. He could feel Lance’s gaze burning into him, and every now and then Keith allowed his eyes to flit up for a moment to catch Lance’s own.

When he finished, he tied off the bandages, sitting back. For a moment the two merely stared at each other, eyes locked. Finally, Lance reached out and took Keith’s hand, squeezing it. “Let’s go to sleep now, yeah?” he murmured.

Keith nodded numbly, helpless but to follow as Lance pulled him down into the covers. The pair lay facing each other, not touching but only inches apart. Lance snapped his fingers, the crystal above them dimming until only a faint glow was left.

“Goodnight, Keith,” Lance whispered, his smile soft and eyes shining.

“Goodnight, Lance,” Keith whispered back.

He watched as Lance’s eyes shut, watched as he sunk down into the pillow, body relaxing. Keith wanted so badly to reach out, to touch, to pull Lance close, but he held himself back. It was enough for Lance to be there, lying beside him. It was enough to see the rise and fall of Lance’s chest, to hear each one of his soft breaths in the air. Keith told himself it was enough. He was lying.

Chapter Text

Keith woke to find arms around him. For a second he went rigid, mind racing as it tried to catch up with where he was and what was happening. But then it came trickling back. He was at Pidge’s house, resting side by side with Lance. Keith relaxed, a small smile curling around his lips. He felt warm and safe, legs tangled with Lance’s and arms wrapped around each other. Then that warmth started to fade.

Keith frowned, pulling the blanket further over them to try and ward off the chill. It didn’t work, growing colder and colder. Keith buried his face in Lance’s neck, trying to chase his body heat. Lance’s skin was cold.

Keith’s eyes shot open. He could feel it now, from where he was pressed into Lance, where his arm was slung over Lance’s waist. That coldness seeped through his shirt, bleeding over into Keith’s own skin.

“Lance?” Keith choked out. His fingers clenched in the fabric of the other boy’s shirt, grip tightening. He couldn’t feel the rise and fall of Lance’s chest. “Lance?” Keith tried again, louder now, his voice strained. The boy beside him was completely still.

Keith sat up, shaking Lance’s shoulder. The other boy’s face was shrouded in shadow, the darkness of the room seeming to pool right over his features. “Lance!” he cried out, desperate. Then he remembered how Lance had dimmed the lights earlier. He reached up and snapped his fingers, causing the crystal above to chase the darkness away. Keith screamed.

The bed disappeared from under him and Keith hit something, hard. He wheezed, getting up on his elbows to crawl away, choking out a sob as he stared in horror up at the mattress. A familiar face appeared, hair mussed up and staring down at the other boy in alarm.

“Keith?” Lance asked, moving to the edge of the bed.

“No,” Keith choked out, continuing to crawl backwards. “Stop.”

“Keith, what’s wrong?” Lance’s voice was getting desperate now, quickly kneeling down beside him. He reached out to try and take Keith’s hand but Keith jerked away.

“Stop!” he screamed.

Lance flinched back, freezing in place. Keith curled in on himself, burying his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body. For a long moment no one moved, Lance staring helplessly as Keith cried on the floor. Finally he spoke up, voice soft and strained.

“Please. Let me help.”

Keith shook his head frantically, face still hidden behind his hands. Lance winced at a particularly painful sounding sob. He reached out, hand hesitating, before gently landing on Keith’s shoulder. Keith half-flinched away before he froze. Slowly his hands fell down from his face and he looked up at Lance with wide, watery eyes. Lance’s touch was warm.

Keith surged forward, almost knocking the other boy over. He clutched the back of Lance’s shirt, buried his face in his shoulder, and cried. Lance let out a sigh of relief. He may still not know what was happening, but at least Keith was letting him touch him now, letting him do something other than just sit there. He stroked his hand up and down Keith’s back in soothing circles, hushing the other boy as he sniffled.

For a long time the two of them sat there together, Keith’s quiet cries eventually subsiding and his trembling growing still. Lance took in a breath, arms tightening around Keith before he spoke. “Keith, what’s wrong?” he whispered.

Keith let out a shaky sigh, clinging tighter to Lance. “Just a bad dream,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we all get nightmares sometimes.”

Keith nodded, face still concealed in Lance’s shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asked.

Keith paused. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Tell you what,” Lance said. “How about we get back in the bed before our butts go numb from sitting on this floor. Then you can decide if you want to talk about it or not.”

Keith huffed out a small laugh, nodding. Slowly Lance withdrew from his hold, Keith wrapping his arms around himself and tilting his head down to hide behind his bangs. Lance got on his knees, gently taking Keith’s hands in his own. Keith allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, still keeping his head tilted down.

Lance led him back over to the mattress, climbing and sitting against the headboard. For a moment Keith just stood there, unsure of what to do with himself. Then Lance was pulling him down, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while using his free hand to lace his finger’s with Keith’s. The bounty hunter sighed, melting against Lance and resting his head on his shoulder. They sat there for a while, simply enjoying one another’s company.

However, Lance eventually broke the silence. “So, do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, but I’m here to listen if you need me.”

Keith grit his teeth. He thought about how far they’d come. When he first met Lance he had hated him, had intended to turn him in and be rid of him as soon as possible. But thanks to a few crazy twists of fate, he’d been stuck with Lance longer than he’d ever intended, and he started to actually get to know the other boy. The way Lance defended him against James when he could’ve just escaped. How he never used his claws on Keith even though it would’ve given him an edge in their fight. When he selflessly leapt in front of a sword to save a child. But even since then, so much more had happened. Lance had refused to leave Keith’s side, even when Keith was admittedly being a bit of a dick. He’d continued their mission when they split apart and he went back for Keith, bleeding out as the mansion burned down around them. He’d held Keith close that night in Moira’s family cottage, had his back when Lance’s friends had attacked, when the bounty hunters came, when James showed up yet again. And now here they were, Lance’s arms around him, offering yet again to help Keith, to be there for him.

Keith stroked his thumb across the back of Lance’s hand, staring down at where their fingers interlocked. He could feel Lance go still at the touch, but he kept his gaze firmly down, just focusing on the feel of Lance’s warm palm against his. He took a breath.

“When I was child,” Keith began, his voice barely a whisper, “I lost my father. He died right in front of me.” Lance sucked in a sharp breath, but Keith just kept looking at their hands. “I dreamed that you were dead. You were cold, and I was calling out to you, but you wouldn’t wake up. And I couldn’t see your face, so I turned on the lights. But it was my father’s face there. Just like the last time I ever saw him.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, the room completely still except for the path Keith’s thumb traced along Lance’s hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance finally said, his voice quiet yet thick with emotion. Another pause. “How old were you?”

“Ten,” Keith replied. There was another sharp breath from Lance.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance repeated, seemingly not sure of what else to say.

The silence returned. Keith’s thumb moved back and forth. Then, slowly, he felt the arm around his shoulders raise. A hand landed in his hair, fingers tangling with the strands. Those fingers moved, scratching gently down his scalp.

Keith melted. His eyes fluttered shut, letting out a pleased sigh as Lance repeated the motion, again and again. Keith had no idea it could feel so good to have someone play with your hair. He swore he could’ve spent the rest of his life right there, pressed into Lance’s side with the other boy’s fingers weaving through his hair.

Soon enough, Keith’s eyes were drooping shut, sinking further and further against Lance. At some point Lance had started humming, a melody dancing softly through the air and echoing back off of the stone walls. The last thing Keith remembered was a hand brushing his bangs aside so a pair of lips could press gently upon his forehead.

At breakfast the Holts announced that they hadn’t yet uncovered anything about Zarkon. Colleen offered to let Keith use their library so he could do some research himself. Keith nodded absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on the third Holt at the table. He couldn’t help but notice that Matt seemed to lose his appetite the moment Zarkon’s name was mentioned. The other boy frowned down at his food, pushing it idly around with his fork. Keith had half a mind to confront him, but he got up as soon as breakfast was over, hurrying from the dining hall and disappearing into the maze of corridors.

After the meal, Pidge dragged Hunk along to her father’s lab, insisting he help in some sort of project. Keith headed for the library, relieved that Lance chose to tag along. After his dream the night before, he wasn’t exactly eager to let the other boy out of his sight.

Like everything else in the Holt’s mansion, the library was huge. Rows of bookshelves soared so high that they required ladders to reach the upper shelves. A fire crackled cheerily in a hearth that seemed to have been carved from some type of smooth white stone, and high overhead a dome let light in.

Finding where to start was the hardest part, but eventually Keith pulled down a tome detailing the current politics in play in the various kingdoms, settling at a table to begin. Lance sat beside him, frowning at the giant book. Keith had only been reading for a few minutes when the other boy pressed into his space, tail flicking distractingly along Keith’s side.

“How do you even know what’s going on in that thing?” Lance complained, frown still in place. “There are no pictures!”

“By reading the words, Lance,” Keith replied, deadpan. Lance’s frown deepened. He stared at the book as though it had personally offended him.

Keith tried to focus on what he was reading, but he could feel Lance’s gaze burning into the pages. He sighed, leaning back. “Why don’t you see if you can find one? I can use all the help I can get here.”

Lance flinched at that. Keith frowned, giving him a puzzled look, but Lance was already getting up. “Sure,” he mumbled. “Be right back.” He disappeared among the shelves, Keith watching him go. He took in a breath, returning to his reading.

It was a good while before Lance reappeared, book in hand. “Looks like this one has a bunch of portraits of rulers or something,” Lance announced, dropping the tome down on the table with an echoing thud. “What’s this Zarkon guy look like?”

Keith’s fists clenched around the pages of his book, his eyes narrowing down at the words. “He’s dragonborn,” he replied, voice quiet. “With a scar along his left cheekbone.”

Lance nodded, beginning to flip through the pages. Keith ground his teeth together, forcing himself to focus on the words before him.

After spending all day in the library, they hadn’t come across anything. Honestly Keith wasn’t surprised. There was a reason Zarkon was so hard to find. Still, Keith couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitter disappointment as he halfheartedly chewed his dinner.

“Matt!” Pidge called across the dining table. “We’re having a sleepover in my room after dinner. Your invitation is not an option.”

“Being forced to spend time with my sister?” Matt gasped out. “How ever will I survive?”

Keith frowned, looking up from his food. He narrowed his eyes, studying the other boy. Matt seemed perfectly relaxed compared to that morning. Then again, no one had mentioned Zarkon’s name at dinner. If Matt was coming to the sleepover thing, that might be the perfect time to confront him.

Keith was brought back to the present by the feeling of something brushing along his side. He glanced over to find Lance watching him. As soon as their eyes met Lance glanced away, cheeks heating up and lips pursed in what looked suspiciously like a pout. Keith gave him a puzzled look before resuming his meal.

The “sleepover” Lance had told him about was apparently a thing where they all slept in Pidge’s room. However, it was a bit more than that. Hunk whipped up some sort of delicious pastries for them to snack on, Pidge showed off the strange metal and leather contraption she’d had Hunk help her with all day, and all of them chatted and exchanged stories, sat in a sort of semicircle on Pidge’s bed. At one point Lance had interrupted the conversation to attack Keith with a pillow, which led to everyone attacking each other with pillows, which terminated in an explosion of feathers when Hunk accidentally skewered one on a particularly sharp bit of wire sticking out from one of Pidge’s old contraptions.

Keith was still utterly bewildered by what had just happened. He’d never fought anyone with something as harmless as a pillow. Yet he couldn’t help the grin still plastered across his face, Lance’s laughter echoing through his mind. The group had moved back into their semicircle, Lance lecturing Keith on how pillow fights were apparently “sleepover tradition” while he batted aimlessly at one of the stray feathers.

“Man, I was supposed to do homework tonight,” Matt spoke up, stretching. “I’ll have to get started on it early tomorrow.”

“Boo, nerd,” Pidge teased from where she was slumped against Hunk, throwing a feather at her brother.

“How’s school been going?” Hunk asked. Keith glanced uncertainly at the other man but there only seemed to be a polite smile on his face.

“It’s good,” Matt replied. “Iverson has been riding our asses like usual, but I just ignore him. Oh, and Professor Coran found a new initiate into the cipher club.” He paused for a moment, shooting Hunk a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to join, buddy.”

Hunk sighed, giving Matt a sad smile in return. “It’s a shame. I might’ve actually stayed at Marvark then. At least there would’ve been something to look forward to.”

“Why didn’t you join?” Keith spoke up, shooting Hunk a puzzled look.

The room got quiet for a moment. Hunk stiffened, and Pidge and Lance both glanced away. The feather in Lance’s hands stilled. Then Hunk turned to Keith, giving him the same sad smile he’d given Matt.

“I was supposed to join. It’s technically the most exclusive club at the school, even if a lot of the faculty look down on it. Only a few people are allowed in, and Professor Coran approved me personally. Learning about runes and ciphers sounded like something I might actually enjoy. But then my parents found out. Apparently being the most exclusive club still wasn’t good enough for them,” Hunk glanced away, his gaze growing distant. “They thought it was a waste of time and that I should be strengthening my powers. So they wrote a letter forbidding me from joining the club. It arrived the day that was supposed to be my initiation ceremony. When I got the letter, I’d had enough. This was the one thing in that school that I was actually looking forward to, and they’d taken that away from me too. So I left.”

Silence hung in the air after that, everyone in the room seeming to hold their breath. Hunk was still staring off into the distance, brows furrowed. Finally, Keith spoke up, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. Hunk’s eyes met his then, and the other man gave him a soft smile.

“Nothing anyone can do about it now,” Hunk shrugged. “Besides, Marvark wasn’t all bad. I met Matt,” he reached over, laying his hand on Matt’s shoulder, “and thanks to him I met Pidge.”

“And thanks to her family jewel, you met me!” Lance piped up, clapping his hands together.

“We’re so blessed,” Pidge groaned.

“You know, I’d be offended if I didn’t already know your terrible secret,” Lance shot back, grinning.

Pidge arched a brow at him. “And what’s that?” she asked, voice unimpressed.

“You love me,” Lance replied, looking smug.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Pidge said.

“You can’t hide it from me, Pidgeon. I’ve wormed my way into your cold little heart!”

“Ew,” Pidge replied, crinkling her nose.

“I love you, Lance,” Hunk piped up, smiling at his friend.

“Aww, I love you too, buddy,” Lance replied, resting his head against his friend’s shoulder. “See, Pidge? Some people aren’t afraid to show their emotions.”

“I don’t have emotions,” Pidge deadpanned.

Keith had been caught up in listening to his friends’ banter, a small smile on his lips. However, while he was sitting there he felt an uneasy sensation creep over him, as though he were being watched. Sure enough, when he turned his head he locked eyes with Matt. The other boy’s eyes widened before he quickly glanced away. Keith frowned. Then he opened his mouth to speak.

“Lance and I didn’t find anything at the library.” His voice was raised to address everyone, but he kept his gaze firmly on Matt, who was no longer meeting his eyes. “Most people have never even heard of Zarkon.”

Just like earlier, Matt flinched at the name. Keith could see his other friends giving them confused looks from the corner of his eye, but he pressed on.

“He’s like a shadow,” Keith continued. “You can say his name and most won’t even react. But when someone has heard of him, it’s easy to tell. Usually, it means danger.”

“You know,” Matt spoke up, standing abruptly. “I actually really should get started on that homework tonight. Sorry guys.”

He turned on his heel, quickly making his way over to the door.

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” Pidge called after him.

“Sorry!” Matt repeated. “Gotta make sure I get it all done on time!” WIth that he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

Keith frowned after him, the room now quiet as everyone looked at him. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered, springing to his feet and hurrying out the door.

Matt hadn't gotten far yet, just disappearing around the bend when Keith rushed out into the hall. He took off after him, having to hurry to meet Matt’s quick pace. Keith kept quiet, not wanting to announce his presence in case the other boy bolted. When he was finally within reach, Keith grabbed the other boy’s wrist, Matt letting out a startled yelp as he was spun around.

“You know something,” Keith said bluntly, keeping a tight grip so that Matt couldn’t get away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt replied feebly, trying to retrieve his wrist.

Keith growled in frustration. “Zarkon!” he snapped. “Whatever you know, you have to tell me!”

“I don’t know anything!” Matt insisted, getting more frantic as he tried to pull away. “I’ve never even heard that name before!”

“Then why do you flinch every time you hear it?” Keith snarled. His free hand clenched into a shaking fist. “Why do you try to leave every time it’s brought up?”

“Keith!”

The bounty hunter whipped his head around, finding Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all standing there. The three were staring at him with wide eyes. Keith’s gaze met Lance’s and he saw a spark of shock flashed through the other boy’s blue irises.

“Keith what are you doing?” Lance asked.

“He’s hiding something!” Keith shouted, gesturing angrily at the boy still trying to break away from him.

“Let go of my brother!” Pidge yelled, her own shock now faded to anger. She started forward but Lance held up an arm to halt her, still keeping his eyes on Keith.

“I don’t even know what this is about!” Matt exclaimed, gaze flitting frantically between everyone.

“You-” Keith began, fixing him with a heated glare. However, he couldn’t get another word out before Lance spoke up.

“What is this about?”

Keith turned again, blinking at the other boy.

“From the beginning you haven’t told us why you’re really after Zarkon. Or who Zarkon even is. I’d just decided to wait until you opened up yourself, but-”

“He’s lying!” Keith interrupted, shaking Matt’s wrist angrily. Hunk sucked in a breath and Pidge took another step forward, only for Lance to hold her back once more. “He knows something, and-”

“Keith,” Lance began, voice final. His gaze was hard, demanding. “Why are you after Zarkon?”

“Because he killed my father!”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Keith stood there, shaking, his chest heaving as he watched his friend’s faces slacken in shock. Then his grip fell away from Matt’s wrist. The strength seemed to seep out of him as he slumped to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest. His thumb traced back and forth across his knuckles, face hidden behind the curtain of his bangs.

After a long moment, Lance settled gently beside him. An arm wrapped around his shoulder, but Keith felt no comfort at the gesture. Right there in that moment, he could feel nothing but numb, his senses dulled down to a bitter ache in his chest.

Matt let out a breath then. Like the other two, he’d been frozen to the spot since Keith’s exclamation. Keith still didn’t look up at him, merely watching the path of his thumb across his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Matt said, voice strained. “I can’t help you.” Then he turned, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Chapter Text

“Keith.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, fist curling in the blankets.

“Keith, wake up.”

He rolled onto his side, half burying his face in the pillow.

“Keith.” A large hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “It’s time to get up.”

“It’s too early, dad,” the little boy grumbled, shifting away from the contact.

“I guess I’ll have to eat all these pancakes myself, then.”

Keith froze, eyes widening. He sat up in a flash, throwing the blankets off and springing out of bed with a wide grin on his face.

“Nope!” his father laughed. “It’s too late. All the pancakes are mine!” He took off at a slow jog, the little boy scrambling after him.

“Nuh uh!” Keith yelled, easily over-taking his father. He dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen where he plopped himself in a rickety wooden chair. His father appeared moments later, heading over to the wood-burning stove.

“You sure are getting fast,” he commented, shoveling the pancakes and bacon onto a couple of plates.

“Faster than you,” Keith piped up, digging in the moment his plate was placed in front of him. His hair stuck up in all directions, and there was a gap in his smile where a baby tooth had fallen out.

His father quirked a brow, gesturing towards his unruly hair with a fork. “We’ll have to tame that beast after breakfast.”

Keith scowled, although he didn’t slow down his enthusiastic eating.

“Don’t look at me like that. We can’t have you running around here like some swamp creature.”

“You’re the only one that’s gonna see me,” Keith grumbled around his food.

“And I’d like to see my son and not a bog monster,” his father replied, a sly grin in place.

The post-breakfast hair brushing was an ordeal, to say the least. Keith complained loudly while his father did battle with the mountain of tangles framing his head. However, a good half an hour later, the beast was indeed tamed, Keith’s hair now hanging in waves around his face.

“Dad, I’m gonna go play outside!” Keith called, pushing open the heavy oak door. He clutched a stuffed toy wolf in his other hand, sewn from blue fabric with yellow button eyes.

“Don’t go far!” his dad called from the kitchen. “You’ve got lessons after lunch!”

“I won’t!” Keith yelled back, heading out the door.

Their cottage was surrounded by deep green forest, bird song and rustling leaves the only sounds for miles. Keith headed into the trees, settling himself down by a brook flowing just a few paces from the house. He set his stuffed wolf on a rock, picking up a small wooden boat that had been left by the water.

“Dad says he’ll teach me how to whittle when he’s older,” Keith informed the wolf, holding the boat out for it to see. “Maybe he can teach you, too.”

Keith paused a moment, examining the boat with a smile, before he set it down in the water, letting it drift with the current. He sprang to his feet and chased after it, grinning as he leapt over roots and ducked under branches. He raced deeper and deeper into the woods, following the trail of the little wooden craft.

The boat spun in the water, dipping and curving, until finally it came to a halt, caught on a rock. Keith paused, kneeling down beside it to pick it up. Just then something dove at his face with a shriek, Keith screaming as he fell backwards. He caught himself on his elbows, looking up with wide eyes as a crow soared away. Keith stared after it, chest heaving, before he shook himself and got to his feet. He reached down to pick up the boat, glancing nervously at the trees. There was a rustling off to his left and he spun towards it. Nothing was there.

“Hello?” Keith called. No answer.

He turned, hurrying back along the creek. Every now and then he’d glance over his shoulder, but all he saw was trees.

He’d almost reached the cottage when he spotted his stuffed wolf, only the toy wasn’t on the rock where he’d left it. It had toppled over onto the ground, lying in the mud by the water.

“Kosmo!” Keith exclaimed, running up to it. He picked it up, finding that the toy’s belly had been slashed open in a few long, thin lines. “Dad!” Keith yelled, springing to his feet. He took off towards the cottage with the toy wolf gripped in his hands.

The front door burst open and his father stepped out. “Keith? What’s the matter, what’s wrong?”

“Kosmo’s hurt!” Keith yelled, holding the toy up to his father. The man took it, frowning as he examined the gashes. He placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Here, come inside.”

His father took the wolf over to a table in the front room, setting it down. “Looks like an animal got to him. You need to keep a close eye on your toys, buddy.”

“Can you do something?” Keith asked, eyes tearing up.

“Hey, come here,” his father replied, kneeling and opening his arms. Keith eagerly stepped into the embrace, burying his head against his father’s shoulder. “I’ll fix Kosmo up. It’ll only take a few stitches. While I do that, why don’t you go get your school book and do some reading, okay?”

Keith nodded, sniffling slightly as he stepped back. He did as he was told, getting his book off the shelf and trying to read, although he spent more time anxiously watching his dad than looking at the actual pages. True to his father’s word, it only took a few minutes before the wolf was all fixed up. The man knelt in front of his son, holding out the toy with a soft smile.

“See? Kosmo’s all better.”

Keith hugged the stuffed wolf, giving his father a watery smile. His dad ruffled his hair before standing back up.

“I’ll get started on lunch.”

Keith was eagerly wolfing down a sandwich, Kosmo perched on his lap, when his father pushed his own plate aside, giving the boy a serious look. “Keith, I’m going away tomorrow for work. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone this time, but Shiro’s coming over to watch you as usual.”

Keith slouched in his seat, setting his sandwich aside.

“I know you don’t like it when I leave, but I need to keep food on the table. Lord knows you eat enough of it,” he teased.

“I could eat less,” Keith said, voice small. “Then you won’t have to go away so much.”

His father frowned. “Hey, buddy, I was only joking. You eat as much as you want, okay? Besides, you like spending time with Shiro.”

“I’d like it better if you were here, too.”

“I know, bud. But I’ll be back. Kosmo will keep you safe while I’m gone.”

Keith smiled slightly, hugging the wolf. His father stood up, picking up his plate.

“You finished with that?” he asked, gesturing towards the sandwich. Keith snatched it up, shoving the last few bites in his mouth with a grin. His father laughed, picking up the now empty plate and carrying it over to the wash bin. “Oh, also,” he called over his shoulder as he began to clean the dishes. “Don’t play outside without Shiro. I don’t want you going out alone until I find whatever animal clawed up Kosmo.”

“Okay,” Keith replied, jumping down from his chair, the wolf still clutched close.

“Go work on your lessons some more. I’ll come help once I’m done with the dishes.”

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful, filled with lessons, dinner, and some time in the evening where his father sat down to play with him. After the sun had set, Keith got ready for bed, settling under the covers as his father read him a story about a brave prince who defeated a terrible dragon. They had almost reached the end, Keith’s eyes beginning to droop shut, when there was a loud bang from downstairs.

Keith sat bolt upright, his father’s eyes widening as a voice yelled out, “Kogane!”

In a flash Keith’s father had pulled him out of bed, rushing him over to the closet. He pushed Keith inside, kneeling down to get on eye-level with his son.

“Keith,” the man whispered, voice urgent. “I need you to stay in here and stay quiet. No matter what happens, don’t make a sound. Promise me.”

“Dad-” Keith whimpered.

“Promise me!” his father interrupted.

Keith nodded, eyes wide. There were heavy footsteps below, followed by the creak of the stairs.

“I love you,” his father breathed out, leaning in to kiss his son on the forehead. Then he stood up, swiftly shutting the closet door and leaving the little boy in darkness. Keith leaned forward, peering through a gap in the wooden slats that made up the door. He watched his father walk hurriedly towards the other door out into the hallway. His hand had just landed on the knob when it burst open. Keith jumped, quickly biting his lip to keep from making a sound.

Standing there, looming over his father, was a reptilian man. He had large, curving horns, skin speckled with purple scales, and slitted yellow eyes that almost seemed to glow.

“My apologies for the rude entrance,” the man said as he stepped fully into the room, forcing Keith’s father to take a step back. His voice was rough, like metal dragging along gravel.

“Zarkon,” Keith’s father replied, voice cold. “Most people knock.”

“Of course. But what’s the point in formalities among old friends?”

“And to what do I owe this visit?” his father asked.

“You’ve been giving me quite a bit of trouble lately,” Zarkon replied. “But you already knew that. I must give credit where it is due. It was difficult to find you.”

Keith’s father didn’t reply, his jaw firmly clenched.

“But no one can hide from me forever. I have eyes all over. You see, the problem is these eyes only work so long as they are hidden. And you calling attention to them is very inconvenient.”

“Strange how you slink around in the shadows,” Keith’s father bit out. “You always seemed like the type of man who would want your name to be known.”

“Oh, it will be,” Zarkon hissed. “Don’t you worry about that.” His slitted eyes fell on something behind the other man then. He leaned over, picking Kosmo up from the bed. Keith’s eyes widened as he watched through the crack in the door.

“You have a son, yes?”

Keith’s father didn’t answer for a moment. He stared up at the strange man with furious eyes, his hands balled into fists. “Yes,” he finally grit out. “He’s staying with a friend.”

“You have a rather unfortunate line of work for a man with something to lose.”

Zarkon’s talons dug into Kosmo, puncturing the fabric. Keith gasped, his hands flying up to cover his mouth a moment later. The slight sound went unnoticed.

“If you so much as lay a finger on him-” his father began.

“No,” Zarkon interrupted, his voice a sickening lull. “I don’t intend to waste my time hunting down a child.” His hand clenched into a fist around Kosmo. Suddenly, the stuffed wolf burst into flames. Keith had to bite his fist to keep himself from crying out, watching in horror as the toy was thrown carelessly to the floor. Kosmo’s blue fur turned black, his button eyes beginning to melt into the ashes.

He glanced up through his tears and almost shrank back, eyes widening in shock. His father looked absolutely murderous, the sinister expression completely foreign on the man’s usually kind face. His fists were shaking where they hung at his sides, like he was just barely holding himself back.

Zarkon regarded him with an icy scowl. “You see,” the man continued, talons flexing. “I prefer to cut out the problem at its source.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth then there was a flash of movement. An arc of silver split the air, followed by a pained cry and a harsh cough. Then everything stopped. Keith froze, eyes trying to comprehend what was before him. There was a deep gash across Zarkon’s face, dark purple blood seeping from the wound. The man’s teeth were bared in a snarl, glaring up at Keith’s father. Red dripped down to mix with the purple on the floor, his father’s eyes wide as his fingers weakly traced where the talons pierced his stomach. He let out another quiet cough, this time a thin line of red trailing from his lips. The knife in his hand clattered to the floor.

Keith was frozen. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breath. He watched, numb, as his father collapsed, more of that awful red pooling around him. The stranger glowered down at him, eyes narrowed. “You should have joined me,” he growled out. Then he turned, disappearing from Keith’s sight.

The young boy sat there, staring at his father, waiting for the man to move, to call out to him, to tell him it was okay. That didn’t happen. There was a loud bang downstairs as the front door slammed shut. Keith jumped, emotion coursing back into his body in the form of a sickening, grating dread. He burst from the closet, scrambling over to his father.

“Dad!” he choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. “Dad!” There was no response.

Keith reached out, shaking his father’s shoulder, first gently, then harder and harder.

“Dad!”

He bent down, freezing at what he saw. His father’s face was blank, his eyes empty. There were no more smiles, no spark of amusement or glint of kindness. There would be no more hands running through his hair to sooth him, no more jokes and teasing nudges, no more arms to hold him or soft words to comfort him. There was no love in the vacant shell that lay before him. There was nothing left at all.

Keith’s nails dug into his palms. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over, blurring the awful sight before him. He drew in a shaky breath, tipped his head back, and wailed. He wailed and wailed, crying out until he couldn’t anymore, until his throat was worn raw and he was choking on his own breath. Then he sobbed, quiet and deep and aching, curling up against the chest of his only family. He stayed there through the night. Even after his father’s skin grew cold and stiff, he stayed, clinging on and praying for a warmth that never came.

Chapter Text

“What is this about?” Lance asked, gazing frantically between Keith’s furious expression and the harsh grip he held on Matt’s wrist. He could feel Pidge pressed into his arm from behind, holding herself back at his request, but just barely.

Keith turned, blinking at the other boy.

“From the beginning you haven’t told us why you’re really after Zarkon. Or who Zarkon even is. I’d just decided to wait until you opened up yourself, but-”

“He’s lying!” Keith interrupted, shaking Matt’s wrist angrily. Hunk sucked in a breath and Pidge took another step forward, only for Lance to hold her back once more. “He knows something, and-”

“Keith,” Lance began, voice final. His gaze was hard, demanding. “Why are you after Zarkon?”

It took only a second for Keith to answer, his mouth opening in a snarl, his face twisted in rage. It was only a moment but it felt like eons. Lance watched in shock as Keith’s pale skin flushed purple, his violet irises almost seeming to glow until their color was overwhelmed by a bright gold, the pupils narrowing to slits. When he opened his mouth his small fangs had grown to twice their size, curving in a menacing display.

“Because he killed my father!”

Lance took a step back. The words echoed off the cavernous walls, hanging heavy in the air. Keith stood there, seething, the splotches of purple expanding and those yellow eyes narrowed with Lance caught in their fiery gaze. Then, all at once, he seemed to crumble. Keith slumped to the floor, purple fading as though it had never been there at all, his face hidden behind his bangs. Lance swallowed, heart racing, staring at the boy before him. For a long moment he stood frozen in that spot, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. Finally, slowly, he settled himself beside Keith, ducking his head to see beneath the curtain of hair. He let out a relieved breath when he saw hazy violet instead of piercing yellow. Lance leaned forward, gently placing an arm around Keith’s shoulders.

Someone exhaled sharply. Lance glanced up, having completely forgotten about the others in the shock of what he’d just witnessed. Matt was still standing before them, although his eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I can’t help you.” Then he turned, retreating down the hall.

Lance turned to his other friends then. They were still frozen, eyes wide as they met Lance’s gaze. Then, slowly, they too stepped forward, Hunk kneeling in front of Keith while Pidge stood beside him. A large hand landed on Keith’s shoulder. Just as with Lance’s arm, Keith didn’t react.

“I’m so sorry,” Hunk murmured.

There wasn’t anything else to say. There wasn’t anything else anyone could say. After a moment Hunk pulled his hand back, still kneeling, his face calm yet pained. Pidge’s own face was contorted in worry. She was staring down at Keith with a helpless look like she wanted to do something, but didn’t know what. The silence stretched thinner and thinner, until Lance finally let out a breath.

“We should get some rest,” he murmured. He paused a moment before quietly addressing the boy beside him. “Do you still want to sleep together, or would you rather be alone right now?”

Keith didn’t say anything, but his reaction was immediate. He stayed in the same slumped posture, his face still hidden beneath his hair. But no sooner had the words left Lance’s mouth then he reached out, his fingers gently curling in Lance’s sleeve.

Lance rolled onto his back, sighing up at the ceiling. Every time he shut his eyes he found a pair of yellow ones simmering there, burned into the back of his mind. Hunk’s snores filled the room, and somewhere off to his left Pidge shifted in her sleep. Lance rolled away from the other two, coming face to face with a third sleeping form.

Keith looked peaceful; a far cry from just a few hours earlier. His breathing was slow and deep, his face relaxed. Lance’s eyes traced over every inch of pale skin he could see, but there wasn’t even a hint of the purple from earlier.

He hadn’t told Keith. None of them had. It hardly seemed like the time with Keith slumped on the floor, looking so broken. Hunk and Pidge had merely given him a few worried looks before they all settled in for the night. Sleep claimed the others quickly, even Keith, who seemed completely drained after his outburst. But Lance had no such luck. He lay there, his eyes tracing the spots where purple had once been, wondering if he would see violet peeking beyond those dark lashes in the morning, or a flash of fiery gold.

Gold. The leaves on the trees were turning gold, heralding the end of the long, warm months of summer.

Gold. The flash of eyes in the darkness, hovering just above her own.

Gold. The hilt of a dagger pressed to her throat.

Gold. A curtain of hair caught in the moonlight.

A resounding crack filled the chilly air. Allura sat up, gasping and clutching at her throat where only moments before she’d felt the cold press of metal. Her wide eyes fell on Romelle, standing there in her nightgown, golden hair tangled around her head and chest heaving as she held a bloodied candelabrum.

“Your highness, you must go!” Romelle whispered, voice urgent.

“What?” Allura asked, still trying to adjust to her harsh wake up call. She blinked rapidly. “What has happen-” Her sentence trailed off as she spotted the figure lying face down on the floor. A dagger lay beside its limp hand, purple blood oozing from a wound on the back of its head.

“They’re in the castle,” Romelle hissed out. “You must run!”

“Who-” Allura glanced around in a daze. “Who’s in the castle?”

“Commander Prorok and his men.”

“What? Why would that be-”

“It’s a military coup. They’re here to overthrow your father.”

“What?” Allura exclaimed. She stood up rapidly, taking a step towards the door only for Romelle to block her way. “Where is he? Where’s mother?”

“Your highness, please!”

“Take me to him!” Allura demanded.

“I can’t do that.”

“That was not a request! As princess of Altea, I order you to-”

“King Alfor ordered me to get you out. He sent me with the message that he and your mother will rendezvous with you beyond the castle walls.”

Allura paused, glancing fearfully towards the doors.

“Your highness, there’s no time.”

“Who is getting him and mother out?”

“Sir Thace has taken up the task.”

Allura scowled. “He works under Prorok, and you’ve left my parents in his hands?”

“He is loyal, m’lady. He’s the one who came to warn the king.”

Allura grit her teeth, eyes burning holes into the door.

“Your highness,” Romelle continued, “you will be reunited beyond the walls. It’s too dangerous to escort you across the castle. I only barely arrived in time to thwart this assassin.”

Allura’s eyes trailed to the bloody candelabrum once more, then the figure on the floor. She turned, snatching her bow and quiver from its place on the wall. Her eyes were ablaze in the darkness, but when she turned back to Romelle all she uttered was, “Lead the way.”

Romelle nodded, hurrying over to the bed and snatching up the sheets. “The window is the fastest way out. Help me tie these, your majesty.”

Allura nodded, slinging the bow over her back as she worked alongside her hand maid. The once silent castle was beginning to wake, screams and the sound of clashing metal gowing nearer. Finally the last knot was tied, Romelle throwing the makeshift rope from the window before securing the other end around a bed post.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

Allura took a breath, casting one last doubtful glance to the door behind her. Then she faced forward, gritting her teeth before vaulting over the window ledge. The drop was easily fifty feet yet she climbed down with ease, safely reaching the shadows of the golden-leaved trees. Romelle followed soon after her, landing softly in the garden. They slunk through the grounds, trying to keep cover behind the flowers and shrubs with the occasional dash across stretches of open ground. Finally, they reached the towering outer wall. Romelle stuck to the perimeter, leading Allura along until they eventually reached a patch of ivy that grew to the very top.

With the same effortless pace that she’d used to descend the sheets, Allura pulled herself up on the vines, reaching the top in moments. Romelle followed, pulling herself over the edge shortly after. The pair stood there, gazing down the other side of the wall. There was no ivy there, the royal gardeners keeping it well-trimmed to prevent infiltrations.

“I can get us down,” Allura murmured. She raised her palms and a breeze picked up, swirling the hair around her head. However, Romelle shook her head.

“This is as far as I go, your majesty.”

“What?” Allura turned to her. “Don’t be foolish.”

“I’ll go back and do all I can to prevent you from being followed.”

“No,” Allura frowned, the wind dying down as she reached out to take the other woman’s hand. “Come with me.”

“It is my duty to serve the royal family,” Romelle whispered. “I will not leave this castle until I have returned your parents to you.”

Allura bit her lip, locking eyes with her hand maid for a long moment. She squeezed the other woman’s hand. “You return to me as well. That’s not a request.”

Romelle smiled before pulling her hand away. “Yes, your majesty.”

Allura smiled back, although it quickly faded as she turned to cast one final glance at the castle. Candles flickered in the windows, and shadows flickered behind them in frenzied haste. A halo of flames licked up the sides of the north tower as a blinding testament to the chaos inside. She almost turned back right then, but a gentle hand landed on her shoulder, guiding her forward. Allura took a breath, turning away from her home. Then she jumped, the darkness swallowing her as a heavy wind whipped through the trees, ripping away their golden leaves.

“A coup?” Lance asked, pausing over his breakfast.

“In the kingdom of Altea,” Colleen said from her place at the head of the table. “It happened weeks ago. News doesn’t travel fast through these mountains so we’ve only just got word of it. Apparently the head of the royal guard rebelled. He had the royal family assassinated and has replaced them as reigning monarch.”

Lance frowned down at his plate, a sour feeling in his stomach. “That’s awful,” he murmured.

Beside him Pidge and Hunk hummed in agreement. Keith didn’t make a sound. He’d barely touched his breakfast, or even spoken a word since they all woke up. Lance gave him a worried look before glancing across the table to where Matt’s chair sat empty.

“I’ve brought this up,” Colleen continued, “because there are rumors that the real instigator of the coup was a man named Zarkon.”

That got a reaction out of Keith. He sat bolt upright, eyes widening as they landed on Pidge’s mother. Beside her, Pidge’s father frowned, his own eyes landing on his daughter.
“Whoever this man is, he’s clearly very dangerous. An overthrown kingdom isn’t really a matter that can be settled by a small group.”

“We only need information, Mr. Holt.”

Lance almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Keith’s voice. It was the first time he’d heard it all day.

“As soon as we’ve found a lead to Zarkon’s current whereabouts then we can be on our way.”

“You intend to go, then?” Pidge’s father asked, a worried frown in place.

“I will be going,” Keith replied, his voice firm. “No one else is obligated to come.”

“Well, I’m not just letting you go alone,” Lance spoke up. “Can’t get rid of me, remember?”

Keith turned a pair of surprised eyes to Lance then. The shadow of what might have been a smile crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“I may not have a say in what the rest of you do,” Pidge’s father spoke up, “but Pidge, we can’t allow you to go to such a dangerous place.”

“Dad-” Pidge began.

Colleen held up a hand to cut her off. “We supported your past travels because they were to avoid danger.”

“I’m not just some dumb kid, I can fend for myself! Besides, the others will have my back!”

“Four people are no match for an army,” her father pointed out.

“But-”

Lance shifted in his seat, eyes lowered as he listened to the Holts bicker. He heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and glanced up just in time to see Keith leaving the room. Frowning, Lance got up as well, leaving the others behind.

By the time he reached the hallway Keith was just turning the far corner. Lance jogged to catch up, the other boy visibly tensing before he saw who it was.

“Where are you going?” Lance asked, falling in step beside him.

“To pack,” Keith answered bluntly. “I should leave as soon as possible.”

“You mean we should leave,” Lance replied. “I don’t know about Pidge and Hunk, but I’m coming.”

“Okay,” Keith said, the ghost of what might have been a smile on his face. “We.”

For a moment neither of them spoke, leaving nothing but the sound of their footsteps echoing around them. Lance was first to break the silence, taking a breath before he murmured, “How’re you feeling?”

Keith frowned, ducking his head. “Fine.”

Lance spun around, stepping in Keith’s way to stop him. “Really, Keith. How are you?”

Keith’s hand balled into a fist, his thumb running over the knuckles. Lance’s eyes flicked down to watch the movement before coming back to the other boy’s face.

“I just want to find him,” Keith said quietly. “I need to find him.”

“What’re you gonna do then?” Lance asked.

Keith lifted his head, looking Lance straight in the eye. He didn’t speak a word, but his gaze was cold and clear. Lance swallowed.

“Keith,” he said, his voice soft. “That won’t bring your father back.”

For a moment there was a flash of pain so sharp, so visceral in those violet eyes that Lance wished he could take it back. Then Keith ducked his head, brushing by Lance as he opened his mouth to reply.

“I know. But it will save someone else.”

Lance stood there a moment, blinking at the empty space where Keith once stood. Then he spun on his heel, hurrying after the other boy.

Chapter Text

Lance leaned against the wall, watching as Keith paced in front of the giant door of the entrance hall. Their packs lay at his feet, bound up tight.

“Pidge and Hunk will be here soon to let us know what’s up,” Lance said, eyes following as Keith spun on his heel once more. “It won’t be long before we can set out.”

Keith sighed. “I know. I just don’t want to waste any more time than we have to.” He turned again, feet shuffling quietly on the stone floor. Lance’s eyes trailed down to where Keith's hand was clenched into a fist, thumb running across the knuckles. Lance frowned. He was just opening his mouth to speak again when another voice rang out.

“You guys weren’t planning to leave without us, were you?”

Lance turned towards the sound, finding Pidge and Hunk striding into the hall with their own packs thrown over their shoulders.

Lance clicked his tongue loudly, turning back to the other boy. “Well, it’s too late, Keith. I told you we should’ve ditched them when we had the chance.”

“What?” Keith asked, fixing Lance with a confused gaze. Pidge strode up to him and punched him lightly in the shoulder while Hunk placed a hand over his chest.

“You wound me,” Hunk teased.

“You said we were waiting-” Keith began.

“It was a joke, bud,” Lance interrupted, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“Oh,” Keith glanced away, ducking his head down to hide behind his bangs. Lance had to resist the urge to reach out and brush the hair away, pulling his hand hastily back. He cleared his throat, instead turning to Pidge.

“How’d you manage to convince your parents, anyway? They seemed pretty adamant that you shouldn’t go.”

Now it was Pidge’s turn to look away, guilt flashing across her face. “I told them that Hunk and I were only going to take you as far as the border of Altea.” She met his eyes once again, her gaze hardening into something determined. “But we’re not just letting you go in there alone!”

Lance smiled, patting her on the shoulder. “You guys all ready to go then?”

“Yep!” Hunk replied. “I’ve got our meals for the journey already planned.”

“Man, I missed you,” Lance said. “Remind me to never split up from you again.”

“You missed me or my cooking?” Hunk asked, raising his brows with a teasing smile.

“Don’t even pretend, you know I love you.”

Lance barely even heard Hunk’s reply when he saw Keith flinch to the side of him. He shot the other boy a quizzical look but Keith had fully turned his back on them now, staring up at the door.

“I tried to find Matt,” Pidge spoke up, “but he wasn’t anywhere. Next time I see him I’m gonna kick his butt for letting me leave without even saying goodbye.”

“Sounds like a solid plan to me,” Lance said distractedly, watching the way Keith stiffened at the sound of Matt’s name.

Keith turned then, Lance jumping as he was caught staring. He quickly glanced away, face heating up. “Let’s go,” Keith called out. Without another word he spun on his heel, yanking open the smaller door hidden in the massive one before stepping out into the snow. Lance shot another worried look in his direction, but followed without another word, Hunk and Pidge behind him.

The leaves were starting to change into fiery reds, oranges, and golds, bursting among the cool green pines. Keith watched with a soft smile as Lance went out of his way to step on the few that had already fallen, his face lighting up as they crackled under foot. He tore his eyes away, glancing back down to the map clutched in his hands. His eyes traced their route. They were at least halfway there now with several days of travel behind them, but it’d be another week until they reached Altea. They would’ve gotten there sooner but the group had made a stop at a farmstead to pick juniberries. Normally Keith would have protested the delay, but he couldn’t deny Lance when he was just trying to look after his family.

Keith’s eyes strayed up to the other boy once more, biting back a smile as Lance snatched a falling leaf out of the air and held it up like it was a prize. He glanced to the side, finding Pidge and Hunk staring right at him. Hunk had the decency to look away and act like nothing happened, but Pidge just kept grinning at him. Keith scowled in return, pulling the map up to block their eye contact.

“Why don’t we set up camp there for the night?” Lance called out.

Keith stashed the map away, coming to stand beside him so he could see where he was pointing. The earth dipped down before them, curving around the shores of a lake. It’s water was almost turquoise in color, shimmering in the fading sun.

“Sounds good to me,” Hunk replied.

“Yeah, my feet are killing me,” Pidge groaned.

“If you guys gather some firewood then I can get started on dinner,” Hunk added, heading down the slope.

“Hell yeah!” Lance cheered. “Keith, bet I can get more firewood than you!”

Keith quirked a brow at him, a smirk spreading across his face. “You sure you’re ready to lose?”

Lance’s eyes widened but Keith didn’t wait for an answer. He took off down the hill, hearing Lance scrambling after him as he yelled, “No fair!”

Dinner was amazing, as usual. Once the dishes had been scrubbed, Lance suggested they all go for a swim in the lake to cool off from the lingering summer heat. The sun was setting below the trees, staining the water pink and orange as Keith floated on his back, eyes shut to enjoy a rare moment of peace. That moment didn’t last long.

“Keith, come here!”

Keith sighed, unable to keep the fond smile off his face as he righted himself in the gentle waves. Lance waved his arm in the air from where he was standing up to his waist with Hunk and Pidge, who was more up to her shoulders.

“Come check this out!”

Shaking his head slightly, Keith swam over, coming to stand beside the others.

“Watch,” Lance said gleefully. He raised his arm and a small stream of water slivered up it like a crystalline snake, winding around him.

“Whoa,” Keith breathed, his eyes widening.

“Pretty cool, right?” Lance said, beaming.

Keith just nodded, eyes transfixed as little drops of water broke off and splattered back down to the lake’s surface.

“Do you want to try?” Hunk asked, giving Keith a kind smile. The other boy flinched, taking a step back.

“No,” Keith said quickly. “I’ll just watch.” He tried to ignore the worried looks the others were giving him.

“If you're sure,” Hunk replied, his voice gentle. He turned back to Lance then. “Try making a wave like I showed you.”

Lance nodded, the remainder of the water stream falling away from his arm. He took a deep breath, face screwed up in concentration. When he exhaled he pushed outwards with his arms. A small wave rose up, rolling away and washing passed Keith. Lance let out a whoop, pumping his fist in the air. The movement threw him off balance and he almost toppled over into the water, just barely catching himself on Hunk’s shoulder. Keith cackled as he watched the other boy flail. Lance shot him a playful glare and was just opening his mouth when he was interrupted by a frustrated growl.

Pidge slammed her fist into the lake’s surface, making droplets spray up. “This stupid water won’t listen to me!” she complained. “Every time I try and do something cool, it just grows a freaking flower or some shit!” She held up a lily pad, and Keith noticed there seemed to be an abundance of reeds surrounding her.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Hunk spoke up. “Plants are one of the hardest kinds of magic to master. Elemental magic can be difficult, but it’s something else entirely to create life.”

“But I don’t want to create this.” Pidge scowled, tossing the lily pad away. “I want to make waves like Lance, or fire like-” she cut herself off, wincing as she seemed to catch herself.

Keith flinched, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing away. He suddenly felt like sinking down beneath the water to escape the three pairs of eyes on him.
“-like Hunk,” Pidge finished weakly.

There was silence for a moment, no one daring to move. Finally, Lance let out a breath, straightening up. “Why don’t we all head to bed? We need to sleep if we’re gonna be walking all day tomorrow.”

Hunk nodded and Pidge started wading towards the shore. “Next time we gotta walk a million miles to get somewhere, I’m renting a carriage,” she grumbled.

Keith stood still for a moment, waiting for the others to go on ahead. Then a pair of hands landed on his crossed arms. He glanced up in surprise. Lance was standing there, smiling softly as he pulled Keith’s arms away from him, loosely holding his wrists. “Could we talk after the others fall asleep? It won’t take too long.”

Keith nodded numbly, eyes flitting between each of Lance’s own. Lance gave him a smile that was brighter than the first stars beginning to twinkle overhead. He squeezed Keith’s wrists gently before turning to wade back towards shore. Keith stood there a moment, watching him go. Then he shook himself, heading after Lance, weaving between the bright speckles of light reflected in the dusky water.

The fire was dying, its last glowing coals sparking in defiance of their cold end. Keith stared at them, worrying his lip between his teeth. Hunk had been snoring for a few minutes now, yet Lance hadn’t said anything. He was just starting to think that the other boy had fallen asleep when he heard someone sitting up behind him.

“Keith,” Lance whispered, his voice drifting over the cool night air. “You still awake?”

Keith sat up, turning to look at him as he nodded. Lance shimmied out from under his covers, getting to his feet. He crossed over to a log by the remains of their fire, sitting down with his back against it. He beckoned Keith over, who sat down beside him.

For a moment there was silence, the two watching as a spark spiraled up to join the stars. Lance took in a breath, his shoulders tense as though he were bracing himself.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for the last few days.”

Keith glanced over at him, brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“What is it?” Keith asked, shifting uneasily.

“You remember when you grabbed Matt?”

Keith’s jaw clenched. He nodded stiffly.

“Well, when you said- When you told us about your dad- you, um. You kinda turned purple?”

There was a long beat of silence. Finally, Keith managed to get out,”What?”

“Your skin got these purple splotches all over it. And your eyes turned yellow and your teeth got really sharp and long. I just- I’d never seen that.”

Keith sat there, stunned. He could feel Lance’s eyes burning into him, but his mind was racing too fast to pay him any mind. “I never-” Keith started, trailing off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, I don’t know what I’m talking about!” Lance exclaimed. “I just- I thought you should know.”

“I-” Keith trailed off once more. He glanced down at his hands, palms open. For a long moment he just stared. Then his eyes narrowed, his teeth grinding together. He stood up suddenly, taking a determined step away.

“Hey!” Lance yelped, scrambling to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“You shouldn’t be near me, Lance,” Keith snapped, quickening his pace.

“What?” Lance asked, taking a step towards him as Keith retreated further. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something wrong with me!” Keith yelled, whirling around to face him. “You saw what happened with the fire! And now this! I-I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know what this is-”

“Keith!” Lance cut him off. He took another step forward. Keith took another step back. “It’s alright! No one’s gotten hurt. The fire thing was an accident and it’s not like you attacked anybody when you transformed. It was just a little unusual, but it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?!” Keith shouted. Behind Lance the embers sparked, a small flame springing to life.

“Guys?” a groggy voice called. Keith ignored it, his gaze fixed firmly on the boy before him.

“I made a giant fireball just inches away from you and my goddamn teeth turned into fangs! That’s practically the definition of a big deal!”

The fire roared up, quickly overtaking the smoldering coals.

“That’s not what I meant!” Lance exclaimed. “I’m just trying to say that you don’t need to worry about us! We trust you. I trust you!”

“Why?! What have I done to earn that trust? I kidnapped you, abandoned you, lied to you, and then I almost burned you with fucking fire!”

The flames roared, licking at the edges of the stone circle surrounding it.

“Guys!” the voice sounded a little more frantic now, but Keith still paid it no mind.

“You let me go-” Lance began.

“After you almost died! It took you getting stabbed before I even considered it! Do you know what they say about dragonborn?”

Lance didn’t answer, seemingly frozen in shock as he stared at Keith with wide eyes.

“They say we’re temperamental, violent, dangerous, that we can’t control ourselves. I’ve been fighting those fucking assumptions my whole life only to find out that it’s all true!”

At that moment, with that final word, the fire burst. It roared up into the sky, an explosion of heat and light clawing at the heavens. Lance cried out, knocked over by its wave of force. Keith stumbled, able to keep his ground since he was farther back. He gaped, wide eyed. The fire blast instantly vanished, nothing left to even hint at its existence other than a pile of ash and scorched ground. Keith took a hesitant step towards where Lance lay, his hand outstretched. Then he paused. The hand before him was purple.

Keith clutched at his wrist, the other hand the same dark hue, as he drew them back to his chest. He glanced up to find wide blue eyes staring at him from a face smudged with ash. Keith grit his teeth, feeling the way the fangs pricked into the skin of his lips. Then he ran.

Chapter Text

“Keith!” Lance yelled, watching as the other boy tore through the trees before vanishing from sight.

Lance glanced over, finding Pidge on her feet and Hunk hurrying over towards him. His friend stooped down, helping Lance get his own feet under him.

“I told him about his purple transformation thingy,” Lance explained. “He didn’t take it well.”

“Are you alright?” Hunk asked.

“I think so.” Lance tried to straighten up, but immediately winced.

“What?” Pidge blurted out, crossing hastily over to them. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “Must’ve bruised something when I fell over.”

“Lance,” Pidge said, her voice stern.

Hunk spun Lance around, keeping a steady grip on his shoulders to keep him from squirming away. He gasped.

Pidge quickly went to stand beside Hunk. “Shit,” she whispered.

Lance sighed. “It’s fine. I can barely feel it.”

“Lance, he burned you,” Hunk said.

“Well I’m sure it looks worse than it feels, because I hardly noticed.” He pulled away from Hunk’s grasp, flinching slightly as a wave of pain rolled from his upper back.

“Hold still,” Hunk ordered, taking a step towards where his pack lay on the ground. “I’ll fetch the medical supplies.”

“No!” Lance exclaimed, whirling on his friends. “We need to go after Keith! We can do that later.”

“Lance, you’re hurt,” Pidge said. Her voice sounded a lot smaller than usual. Lance blinked a moment, taking in her worried eyes. Most of the time he forgot about the age difference between her and him, but it was in rare times like these that he was reminded of the four years that separated them. He shook himself, turning away. “I’ll be fine. Keith needs us right now. We can’t just leave him alone out there!”

He turned away from his friends, starting to march into the woods.

“Lance!” Hunk called.

Lance spun to face them. “Are you coming or not?” he snapped.

Hunk held up his hands placatingly. Pidge was still looking at him with those eyes that made him feel guilty.

“We’re coming, buddy,” Hunk replied. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Lance nodded stiffly. He didn’t wait to see if the others were following before spinning once more, heading off into the trees.

It was almost half an hour before he found him. Lance had split up from the other two to cover more ground, weaving frantically through the trees. He came across him by chance, stumbling free of the thick undergrowth to see a figure by the lake shore. Lance paused. Keith was standing perfectly still, his back to him. Lance shifted, grimacing as pain radiated through him. He glanced nervously at Keith’s figure before reaching up to loosen his scarf, letting it drape down over his upper back.

“You sure got far for someone that doesn’t have night vision,” Lance called out. A weak smile spread across his face, but it quickly faded when Keith didn’t turn. There was a long pause.

“I can see in the dark like this.” Keith’s voice sounded thin, strained. Lance glanced him over, unable to see his face but noticing that his arms were still a deep purple.

“Go back, Lance.”

Lance frowned. “No.”

“I said go back.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Lance started towards him at a determined pace. Keith whirled around then and Lance couldn’t help but freeze. He’d known what to expect, but it still caught him off guard. Keith’s skin was completely purple, patches of scales showing through here and there. His eyes glowed gold in the darkness, searing right through him.

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, ducking his head down so that Lance couldn’t see those fiery eyes anymore. He laughed quietly, but there was no humor in the sound. “Look at me,” Keith whispered. “I’m a monster.”

Lance grit his teeth. He didn’t think. He didn’t give the words a moment to settle in the night. He moved.

Lance stepped forward, swiping his hand through the air. Instantly an arc of water rose from the lake’s surface, splashing down on Keith. Then there was silence. Lance stood there with his chest heaving as Keith looked at him with big, golden eyes, water dripping off him.

“What the hell was that?”

“A monster?!” Lance exclaimed, voice rising. “Keith, you're a goddamn person! Scales and teeth don’t just change who you are!”

“Lance-”

“No, you said your piece before! Now it’s my turn. Yeah, you kidnapped me but you let me go. How many bounty hunters just set their next paycheck free, huh? You left after we had that fight, but you came right back and saved my ass when I got captured. You didn’t tell us about Zarkon, but who the hell wants to relive such painful memories? And that stupid fire ball was an accident. An accident! Magic can be volatile and dangerous but that’s why you learn to control it! You know what else you’ve done? Save my ass multiple times. Rescue a little girl. Wrestle fucking venomous chickens so that my family can afford to eat! Those stereotypes about dragonborn are bullshit! And I don’t care if you stay purple and scaly the rest of your life but don’t you dare ever say that about yourself again!”

Keith’s eyes were practically the size of the moon overhead, staring at Lance in shock. Lance stared right back, chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. He took a firm step forward. Then another. Keith flinched back, but Lance moved too quickly, right in front of him in an instant. He paused, his eyes still fixed on Keith’s wide ones. Then he reached out, taking Keith’s hands in his. When Keith didn’t pull away Lance let out a breath, surging forward and wrapping his arms around him.

For a moment Keith went stiff, his body a rigid line. Then he slumped forward, exhaustion practically radiating off him as he buried his face in Lance’s shoulder, his own arms coming up to return the embrace.

“You’re all wet,” Lance huffed quietly, although he made no move to pull away.

He could feel the way Keith’s lips quirked up into a slight smile against his neck. “Who’s fault is that?” Keith murmured.

For a long moment they just stayed there, holding each other. Then a cool breeze blew in, making the pair shiver. Lance pulled away, lacing his fingers together with Keith. “Okay, I’m sorry I splashed you. Can we go back and get under some warm blankets before we both catch hypothermia?”

For a moment Keith didn’t answer, and Lance braced himself for more arguing. Then Keith nodded slightly, his grip on Lance’s hand strengthening. Lance smiled, reaching out to push Keith’s soaked bangs away from his eyes.

“You know, you look good in purple.”

Another pause. Lance winced, worried he’d crossed a line. Then a smile bloomed across Keith’s face, a sound that could only be laughter bubbling forth from his lips. Lance froze, his eyes going wide as he watched the other boy’s eyes squeeze shut, his laughter filling the air like the sweetest music Lance had ever heard. He felt his heart beat against his ribs, and in that moment Lance had just enough presence of mind to wonder if he was dying.

When Keith’s eyes next opened they were violet, his fair skin beginning to show through splotches of fading purple.

“You’re an idiot,” Keith said, but the words were so fond, so soft, that all Lance could do was stand and stare while he tried to get the breath back into his lungs.

A long time passed as the two just stared at each other, the purple fading and fading until it was gone entirely. Lance shook himself, clearing his throat loudly.

“We should probably head back before we turn into ice cubes,” he said.

“Yeah,” Keith murmured. He still had that smile on his face that Lance just didn’t know what to do with. He managed to tear his eyes away, if just barely, turning towards the trees. The movement made him wince as pain spread from his back.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked, worry flashing in his eyes.

“I think I must’ve pulled something when I was running around the forest looking for you,” Lance said, careful not to meet Keith’s gaze. “It’ll heal up in a day or two.”

Keith gave him an apologetic look, his mouth pulled down in a frown. Lance squeezed his hand slightly, watching the smile dance back onto the other boy’s face. He took a step forward, Keith right beside him.

“You found him!” Hunk called out, him and Pidge spotting them as they approached the campsite. Pidge raced up to them, stopping at the last moment with a hesitant look on her face.

“Are you alright?” she asked, almost sheepishly.

Keith nodded, wincing slightly. “I’m sorry about that outburst back there. I didn’t mean-”

He was cut off as Pidge lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him. Lance watched in amusement as Keith froze, eyes going wide like he didn’t understand what was happening. Then, slowly, he reached down, wrapping his arms around her too.

“We were worried about you,” Hunk said, coming up to join their hug. Lance just stood back, watching with a satisfied smile as his friends all embraced. He couldn’t help the way his heart raced when he saw Keith’s own small smile.

“Why are you all wet?” Pidge asked, pulling back with her nose wrinkled.

“My fault,” Lance spoke up, holding up a hand. “I had to splash some sense into him. Not to brag, but I’m getting pretty good at this whole magic thing.”

“So humble,” Pidge snarked, rolling her eyes.

“Lance,” Hunk began, turning towards the other boy. “We should really trea-”

“Keith!” Lance interrupted. The other boy turned confused eyes on him. “You should go get changed so we can all go to bed! It’s not gonna be comfortable trying to sleep in wet clothes.”

“Yeah,” Keith replied, shooting Lance a confused look. “Okay.”

Lance adamantly ignored the frown on Hunk’s face. Keith gathered some fresh clothes and left to change in privacy, giving Lance another puzzled look on his way out. Lance let out a breath once he was out of sight, turning to his other two friends.

“What was that about?” Pidge asked.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Hunk added, his disapproving frown only increasing.

“No,” Lance sighed. “And no one’s going to tell him. I just barely managed to snap him out of it. If he found out he burned me, he’ll freak out and probably try to leave for good. It was an accident, alright? Keith doesn’t need to know.”

“Lance,” Hunk began. “This is kind of a big deal-”

“So is losing our friend because he thinks he’s some irredeemable monster or some other stupid shit. Please, you guys. Just don’t say anything.”

Pidge nodded slowly. “Alright. I don’t want to see Keith run off again. Or to chase you down when you run after him.”

Hunk was silent. Lance turned to his friend, meeting his eyes. “Hunk, please.”

There was a long moment where his friend didn’t speak. Then, finally, he sighed. “Okay, Lance. I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Lance murmured, a bright smile spreading across his face.

“Let’s hurry and treat you before Keith gets back.”

Keith let out a breath, glancing up from the map. Yellow-leaved aspens stretched as far as the eye could see, shivering in the wind.

“This is it?” Lance asked. “I was expecting a giant wall or something.”

“This is the border,” Keith confirmed, glancing back down at his map. “There will be patrols so we’ve got to keep our guard up.”

Beside him Lance crossed his arms, instantly wincing at the movement.

“That pulled muscle is still bothering you?” Keith asked, worry settling heavy in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s fine,” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “Just taking a little longer to heal than I thought.”

Beside him Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look. Keith shot them a questioning glance, but neither of them would meet his eyes.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Lance spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “We’ve got a kingdom to infiltrate!”

Chapter Text

Keith shuddered, shifting as sweat ran down his back. Darkness surrounded him, a dull roar filling his ears. The heat grew and grew, his body trying to twist away but it was everywhere, all encompassing, inescapable. He opened his eyes and saw fire.

Keith cried out, trying to jerk back but finding himself unable to move, his limbs straining against invisible restraints. The flames danced all around him, coughing smoke and sparks into the air. The roaring grew louder and the fire swelled.

“Keith!”

Keith’s head whipped up, finding Lance staring at him with wide eyes. The other boy stood a few paces away, watching as the fire grew.

“Keith, I’m coming to help!” Lance yelled. He took a step forward. The boundaries of the fire began to spread, inching closer and closer to him.

“Stop!” Keith shouted. “Lance, run!”

“No!” Lance yelled back. “I can help! You just need to let me in!”

He took another step forward. The fire spread closer.

“Lance, please! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

Lance paused, at the edge of the flames now. He looked Keith in the eye, a soft smile on his face. Keith felt his heart cracking under the gentle care in those blue eyes.

“I trust you.”

Lance stepped into the fire. Keith screamed, his entire world engulfed in flames. There was nothing but fire. Fire and pain.

Keith sat up, gasping for breath as he clutched at his chest. His lungs heaved as they took in clean air instead of smoke. He glanced around wildly, blinking in the darkness. The ashes of a campfire lay a few feet away, and around him his friends were sleeping peacefully. A gentle breeze blew through the yellow-leaved aspens, sending a gentle rustling sound across the clearing.

“Keith?”

Keith took in another deep breath, glancing over to find that same pair of eyes from his dream.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Just a bad dream.” Keith looked away, waiting for Lance to roll over and go back to sleep. He didn’t.

Lance got up, shimmying out from under his blankets. He took the few steps necessary to reach Keith before sitting down beside him, tail flicking absent-mindedly.

“You want to talk about it?”

Keith sighed. His thumb ran across the back of his knuckles, tracing a pattern. “I burned you.”

“What?” Lance said quickly, sitting up straighter. “No you didn’t!”

Keith gave him a puzzled look. “In the dream,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Lance replied. There was silence for a moment. “Well,” Lance finally spoke up, “I’m okay. See?”

He placed a hand on Keith’s knee to demonstrate his point. Keith instantly flushed bright red, thankful for the cover of darkness around them. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered. “It was just a dream.”

“You’ve been having a lot of bad dreams the past few days,” Lance continued. His hand was still on Keith’s knee, slowly depleting Keith’s sanity. “Maybe you should stay and rest at the campsite tomorrow instead of coming into town with us?”

Keith shook himself, pulling himself together just enough to meet Lance’s eyes. “No, I’ll be fine. Besides, we shouldn’t split up in hostile territory.”

Lance snorted. His thumb swiped over Keith’s knee, just a small motion, but it was enough to have Keith’s mind white out, completely missing the other boy’s next words. That hand retreated and Keith shook himself again, managing to pull together just enough concentration to say, “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said you sound like a soldier,” Lance teased. He mimicked Keith’s voice, puffing out his chest. “The troops must stick together behind enemy lines!”

“I don’t sound like that,” Keith huffed, giving him a playful glare.

Lance shrugged. “Agree to disagree.” There was a pause before he next spoke. “You still going to look around for information?”

“Yeah. The locals will know a lot more about the coup than whatever news has traveled beyond the borders.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll stick with you. Pidge and Hunk won’t need a third person when they’re buying supplies.”

“Okay,” Keith whispered, trying to force down the smile attempting to spread across his lips.

Lance shifted back to lean on his elbows, wincing at the movement. Keith gave him a worried look.

“That muscle is still bothering you?”

“It’s not bad,” Lance replied, tilting his head up to look at the sky overhead.

“Maybe we should go find a doctor in town tom-” He froze as Lance placed a hand on top of his own, his words trailing off.

“I’ll be fine,” Lance whispered, giving Keith a soft smile.

Keith nodded numbly, watching as Lance turned to look up once more. His hand pulled away and Keith instantly missed it’s warmth.

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” Lance whispered.

Keith gazed into Lance’s eyes, making note of every silver pinprick reflected against their deep blue. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice soft. “They are.”

The town they entered was clean and cheerful, with wide cobble streets and flower boxes lining every window. Morning crowds bustled about, headed to work or to start the daily chores. Children chased each other through the streets and birds twittered overhead. It almost looked like something out of one of the story books that Lance’s mother used to read him.

Lance yawned, stretching as he followed after the others. Hunk and Pidge were going over their shopping list while Keith walked beside him, his eyes scanning the people around them. Lance shot him an amused grin, and Keith gave him a small glare in return.

“Anyone look like a murderer to you?” Lance asked, nudging Keith teasingly.

“Yeah,” Keith snarked back, pointing over Lance’s shoulder. “That one.”

Lance followed his gaze, spotting a little boy blowing on a paper pinwheel by a stall selling flowers. “You’ve got a keen eye,” Lance said. “That one’s viscous.”

“Alright,” Hunk spoke up, stopping abruptly. Lance ran right into his back, sputtering in indignation as his friend turned to face them. “Pidge and I will go get us more supplies. You two be careful, alright?”

“Aye aye, captain,” Lance replied, saluting as his friend rolled his eyes.

“We meet back at the fountain in an hour,” Pidge added.

Keith nodded. “See you in a bit.” He turned, heading off into the crowd as Lance fell in step beside him.

“So, what’s the plan, commander?”

“We try the tavern first,” Keith replied. “That’s always a good spot for local gossip.”

“Okay,” Lance nodded. “But I’m getting a drink.”

“Only one,” Keith responded. “I can’t deal with your drunk antics and find information at the same time.”

“Yes, mom,” Lance snarked, bumping shoulders with the other boy.

“Two ales,” Keith said, placing some coins down on the bar. The barkeep nodded at him, reaching for two empty tankards and stepping over to fill them at a keg.

“My hero,” Lance teased, pressing against Keith’s side.

Keith blushed, quickly looking away so that Lance wouldn’t notice. “Shut up,” he grumbled, trying to ignore the way Lance’s tail flicked against him

The ales were placed in front of them, and Keith distracted himself by taking a swig. It went down smooth, leaving a pleasant burn in the back of his throat. He eyed the other patrons, his eyes falling on one in a full suit of armor.

“What’s a convincing lie?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the guard.

“What?” Lance asked, looking up from his drink.

“I can’t just announce to everyone that we arrived here yesterday with the borders shut down. So what’s a convincing lie that explains why I don’t already know all that’s going on with the coup?”

Lance took a long drink, brows furrowed in thought. He placed his tankard down, looking Keith in the eye. “We’re minstrels.”

“What?” Keith asked, now his turn to look confused.

“We’re a band of traveling performers. We’re never in one place for long so it can be hard to keep up with the news.”

“No,” Keith said, shaking his head.

“Why not? It works perfectly. We’ll say that you fence or juggle swords or something, Hunk does magic tricks, Pidge makes weird contraptions, and I do aerial silk dancing.”

“What?” Keith repeated. “Why?”

Lance gave him a smug grin. “I’m very flexible,” he replied, taking another long drink.

Keith coughed, glancing away. “No,” he said, voice final. “I’m not doing that.”

“Hello,” Keith said, attempting to smile politely down at the woman seated before him. It came off as more of a grimace. “Can I join you?”

The woman nodded, gesturing to the seat opposite her. Keith took it, clearing his throat. “Are you one of the town guards?”

“Yes I am,” the woman replied, setting down her mug. “You have a complaint or crime to report?”

“No,” Keith nodded, “I was, um. Hoping you could share some information?”

The woman raised a brow. “What kind of information?"

“Well-” Keith winced. “My friends and I are a group of traveling performers, so we’re not in one place for too long. We’ve been hearing all these rumors about a coup at the capital, but we didn’t know what to think of them. Do you know what’s been going on?”

The woman huffed out a humorless laugh. “Traveling or not, I’m surprised you haven’t picked up on the news. It must’ve spread to all the kingdoms by now.”

“So it’s true?” Keith asked.

“Sure is,” the woman replied. “The captain of the royal guard rebelled. He had the whole royal family assassinated, and now he’s sitting on the throne. We’re lucky that we’re way out here by the border. The towns around the capital have all had troops stationed in them. Although in time they might send them as far out as here, too.”

“What’s going on in the capital?”

“Nothing good. Anyone who dares to speak against him or call his rule into question gets taken off the streets. No one’s seen those people since.”

“Has there been talk of anyone else behind this? Anyone pulling the strings?”

The guard gave him a strange look. “Captain Prorok’s pulling the only strings I’m aware of. Although I guess he’d be King Prorok now.”

Keith nodded, shifting uneasily.

“You said you're a traveling performer?” The woman asked.

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “We’ve just been hearing rumors, so I appreciate the information.” He made to get out of his chair.

“What do you do exactly?” the woman asked, stopping him.

“I, um,” Keith mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes, “juggle swords.”

Now both the woman’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s impressive. And what about your friend over there? The catboy you came in here with?” Keith glanced over his shoulder. Lance was still sitting at the bar, but now there were a couple of men chatting to him.

Keith turned back to the woman, still not meeting her gaze. “Aerial silks,” he said meekly.

She let out a low whistle. “You putting on a show today?”

“Y-yeah,” Keith replied. “This evening by the fountain. When the sun sets.”

“I’ll have to stop by,” the guard replied. She paused a moment, watching something over Keith’s shoulder. “You better go help your friend.”

Keith’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around. The two men were still by Lance, whose ears were now laid out flat on his head. One of them leaned into his space, grinning smugly.

“Looks like he’s attracted some trouble,” the guard added, taking a sip from her mug.

Lance watched as Keith headed over to the armored woman, an amused grin on his face. He turned back to his drink, bringing it up to his lips.

“You must be new in town.”

Lance glanced up, finding a couple of Alteans sauntering up to him. One had a scar along his jaw, but otherwise they looked relatively plain.

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“My friends and I travel a lot,” Lance replied with a shrug. “We’re performers.”

“And what is it that you perform?” the scarred one asked.

Lance grinned, taking another drink. “Aerial silks.”

The man let out a low whistle. “I’d pay to see that.”

Lance felt his fur bristle slightly but he ignored it, focusing on his drink. “Well you can if you come see the show.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” the man replied, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Hey, can my friend and I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks,” Lance said, still not looking at the man. “This is the last for me.”

“But it’s the only one you’ve had,” the man pointed out. “My buddy and I know all the town gossip. We’d keep you entertained.”

“No, I’m good,” Lance replied. “Can’t go swinging around on silks when I’m drunk. It’s a safety hazard.”

“Fair enough,” the man shrugged. “Mind if we sit here, then?”

Lance frowned, but he couldn’t come up with a polite way to say no. He sighed. “I don’t see why not.”

The two men pulled up some stools. The one who hadn’t spoken yet wrapped his knuckles on the counter to get the bartender's attention. He held a couple of fingers and the barkeep nodded, grabbing two tankards.

“There’s some good gossip going around the town today,” the scarred man spoke up.

Lance hummed noncommittally.

“A priceless jewel is supposedly being transported through here. Apparently it once belonged to the late royal family. It’s being held in the town hall tonight before shipping out on the first carriage tomorrow.”

“Strange that a jewel like that would end up all the way out here,” Lance replied, looking at the other man for the first time. For a moment he could’ve sworn he saw a scowl flash across the man’s face, but it was gone before he could really tell, that easy grin back in place.

“Just relaying what I heard,” the man said. He paused a moment, eyeing Lance’s almost empty glass. “You sure we can’t get you a drink? There are a lot more stories where that came from.”

“No, thank you,” Lance said curtly, his tail starting to twitch agitatedly.

“Come on,” the man pressed. “It’s just one drink. We’re good company.” He leaned in, that grin only spreading wider.

Lance definitely felt his fur bristle that time, his ears going flat. “I said-”

“Is there a problem, here?”

Lance glanced up, finding Keith glaring down at the scarred man. His hand was on the hilt of his dagger.

The man frowned, leaning back. “Just having a friendly conversation,” he replied smoothly. For a moment no one moved, the two staring each other down. Lance flexed his claws, his muscles tensing as his eyes flitted between the two of them.

Suddenly there was a loud thunk. Lance jumped, spinning to where the barkeep had just slammed down a couple of tankards in front of the men. He turned a cold gaze towards Keith.

“I’ll thank you to not threaten my customers,” the barkeep said, eyes moving down to Keith’s weapon. He turned to Lance then, jerking his head towards the door. “You two. Out.”

Lance sighed, quickly downing the last of his drink before standing up. Keith looked ready to argue but Lance put a hand on his arm, shaking his head slightly. Keith’s tense posture relaxed, and he allowed Lance to lead him from the tavern.

“What did they want?” Keith hissed once the doors had shut behind them.

“The scarred one kept trying to buy me drinks and prattling on about some jewel. And the other guy just stared at me the whole time like some creep. Couldn’t take no for an answer.”

Keith’s scowl deepened. “They should’ve been the ones thrown out.”

“Yeah, but at least I finished my drink,” Lance replied. “You need to go searching for more intel?”

Keith shook his head. “I’ve got enough to go on for now. Plus, we should stay close in case those assholes show up again.”

“Want to go window shopping?” Lance asked, face lighting up. Keith paused, his own face tinged a slight pink as he just stared. Lance frowned, waving his hand in front of the other boy’s eyes. “Earth to Keith. You in there?”

Keith shook himself, glancing away. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Lance snickered. “So, window shopping?”

Chapter Text

Lance bounced from stall to stall, examining various trinkets and trying on hats, belts, and whatever other accessories he could get his hands on. Keith mostly stood back and watched, a soft smile on his face as Lance dramatically whipped a blue scarf over his shoulder, catching Keith’s eye and wiggling his eyebrows at him. Keith chuckled quietly, watching as the stall vendor approached Lance to ask if he wanted to purchase it. Just like with all the others, Lance answered with a quick and sheepish no, quickly handing the item back before moving on.

Keith’s smile slipped into a frown then, noting the way Lance’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he hurried to the next stall. Here Lance paused, eyes going wide. He picked a bracelet up from the cushions on the booth’s surface, slipping it over his wrist and beaming.

“Keith, look!” Lance called.

Keith stepped in closer, peering down at the item in question. It was a braided leather band with a single polished stone woven into it. The deep red of the stone seemed to catch the sun’s rays and hold it there, like a small ember.

“Do you want it?” Keith asked, raising his eyes to meet Lance’s. Immediately Lance glanced away, slipping the bracelet off and placing it back on the cushion.

“No,” he replied, his lips curved up in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t need it.”

Keith’s frown deepened as Lance turned to walk away. “I can get it for you,” he spoke up. Lance paused. “I still have some money left from my last bounty job before we met, and I don’t really have anything to spend it on with Pidge’s family covering supplies.”

Lance turned to meet his eyes with that same polite smile. “That’s really nice, but you don’t-”

“Lance,” Keith cut him off, voice dead-pan. “Do you want the bracelet?”

When Lance didn’t answer Keith turned and picked it up from the cushion, gesturing for the vendor to come over.

“I’ll take this,” he announced, handing over the specified coin. When he turned back around Lance was standing in the same exact spot, staring at him with wide eyes. Keith couldn’t hold his gaze for long, having to glance away as he felt his cheeks heat up.

He stepped in close, taking Lance’s hand and slipping the bracelet over it. “There,” he murmured, quickly stepping back.

For a moment Lance still didn’t move, his eyes flitting between Keith’s face and the piece of jewelry. Then he launched himself at the other boy, flinging his arms around a very startled Keith and almost knocking him over. Lance clung on, his face hidden against Keith’s shoulder as Keith slowly reached up to return the embrace.

“Lance?” Keith asked, his voice soft.

“Thank you,” Lance murmured. He pulled back then and the smile on his face was positively blinding.

“Y-yeah,” Keith stammered out, having to look away as he felt his cheeks burning. “No problem.”

Lance reached down to grab his hand, pulling Keith along to the next stall with him. Keith felt as though he was going to combust, the sensation absolutely not helped by the way Lance’s tail flicked against his side.

Lance frowned, catching the eye of yet another person staring at them from across the market. That was the fourth in the past half hour, and an uneasy feeling was starting to settle in his gut.The stranger started when she was caught looking, quickly glancing away. However, when Lance turned away himself he could feel eyes burning into him once more.

“I think its about time to meet up with the others,” Lance spoke up, glancing over to where Keith was leaning against a wall. For a moment he caught a flash of a soft, content look in Keith’s eye but then the other boy shook himself, nodding briskly. The pair set off, weaving among the stalls until they had made it to the fountain. Pidge and Hunk weren’t there yet so Lance turned back towards the square, eyes scanning the crowds. This time he found more than a few eyes on him, whispers starting to carry through the air.

Keith must have noticed it too, because he barked out a gruff, “What’s their problem?” He took a step closer to Lance and the other boy couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief that he wasn’t alone. Lance frowned, eyes still flitting around as he tried to find the source of the cheerful town’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Hey, losers!”

Lance jumped a foot in the air, startled from his deep concentration. He winced as the movement made his back burn, but did his best to ignore it. Lance spun around, finding Pidge and Hunk marching towards them.

“We got the supplies,” Pidge continued with a smirk, her head barely visible above all that she was carrying.

Hunk paused beside them, shooting a nervous glance around. “Is it just me or are we getting a bunch of weird looks?” he asked.

Lance’s frown deepened as he cast another glance around. His eyes fell on a bulletin by the fountain, the uneasiness in his gut solidifying. He leaned over towards Hunk, subtly nodding towards the bulletin with his head.

“I think maybe you and I should’ve stayed back at the camp, buddy.”

Hanging there, plain and obvious, were their wanted posters.

Just then Keith stiffened, his hand flying down to the hilt of his dagger. “We need to move,” he hissed. “Now!”

Lance had a moment to follow his gaze, spotting the armored woman from the bar. She had a scowl set on her face and she was marching towards them with purpose.

“You heard the man,” Lance said, swiping some of the supplies from Pidge’s arms. “Let’s bounce!”

The four turned, breaking into a sprint with Lance in the lead. Each step, each shift in the muscle sent another jolt of pain radiating through him, but he grit his teeth and forced it down, concentrating on finding the best route. He took them through narrow alleys and empty side streets, all the while listening intently to the heavy footfalls behind them.

“Stop!” a voice shouted.

None of them did. Lance whipped around a corner, his heart sinking as the came face to face with a dead end. On his own he could climb the wall with ease, but his friends weren’t so nimble. Before he could say anything Hunk took a step forward, a determined gleam in his eye.

“Hold on tight to the supplies,” he ordered, before thrusting his hands at the ground.

Lance had just enough time to sink his claws into the bundles he carried before his feet were swept out from under him, the earth seeming to buckle underneath them. The next instant it surged up, launching him and his three friends into the air. They easily cleared the wall, Lance flipping himself mid flight to land on his feet. Hunk also stuck the landing, if a little less gracefully, but Pidge and Keith weren’t so fortunate. Pidge came down on her back, letting out a wheeze as her parcels went rolling away from her. Keith flailed in surprise at the sudden lack of ground beneath his feet, managing to land hard on his butt. Lance couldn’t help but snicker, hastily reaching down to help Keith up. The movement pulled on his back, and this time he couldn’t contain his slight yelp of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked, stepping in close to fix Lance with worried eyes.

“Just that pulled muscle,” Lance lied, waving his hand dismissively. “Running isn’t exactly good for it.” He ignored the other two pairs of eyes on him, watching him from where Hunk was helping Pidge retrieve her parcels.

Just then they heard a frustrated yell from the other side of the wall, accompanied by a dull thud as a fist seemed to connect with it.

“Let’s go,” Lance called, hurrying into the trees with the others at his side.

Lance leaned back against a log, catching his breath. The others were slumped beside him, each in a similar state.

“I don’t know why they even have a poster of me,” he grumbled. “I’ve never been to Altea before!”

“I’m pretty sure you’re wanted in all the kingdoms,” Hunk supplied rather unhelpfully. “People are pretty pissed about your past crimes.”

“Like they didn’t all have the money to replace what I took,” Lance said bitterly, his tail flicking in agitation.

“Well, we lost them now,” Pidge spoke up. “We can catch our breath here but then we better push on a bit more before setting up camp. I don’t want to stay anywhere near that village.”

Lance leaned into Keith’s space, grinning at him. “You know, just a couple of months ago you would’ve been the leader of that angry mob.”

“That was before I made the mistake of meeting you,” Keith replied, an easy grin on his face.

Lance paused, a strange swooping feeling in his chest as he looked at the other boy’s smile. It felt like the ground had fallen out from under him all over again. He shook himself, tearing his gaze away.

“Then I charmed the socks off of you. You were a goner from the start!” he teased.

Keith merely hummed in return. Lance could still feel that violet gaze burning into him.

“What’s that?” Pidge spoke up, interrupting the fragile moment.

Lance glanced to where she was pointing, grinning as he spotted the bracelet.

“Keith got this for me!” he announced, holding his wrist out so she could see better.

“Did he now?” Pidge asked, a smug look on her face. Lance glanced from her to Keith, finding the other boy giving her a glare.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hunk said. “It looks good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” Lance replied smoothly, prompting a unified groan from his friends.

Just then a twig snapped nearby, the group falling silent. For a long moment no one moved, each pair of eyes scanning the trees. There was nothing.

Lance stood slowly, wincing with even that slight movement. He grit his teeth in frustration. The wound hadn’t been so sensitive that morning. It even seemed like it might finally be on the mend, but now it was just getting worse. Still, he pushed it to the side, eyes sweeping the trees one more time. “We better get moving,” he whispered.

Lance was used to running, used to dodging and weaving and climbing. However, doing all that while injured may not have been the greatest idea in the world. His back burned enough already with each pull of the muscle, but he brushed it off, almost numb to it at that point. What he wasn’t used to was the coughing, or the way the heat in his skin didn’t leave even after they’d stopped running, stopped scrambling through the trees.

Keith had inquired worriedly about him the entire evening while Lance brushed off his questions and insisted he was fine. Hunk and Pidge had also been worried, although they had a much more knowing look in their eyes. Hunk had managed to pull Lance away from Keith’s sight after dinner, which proved more difficult than usual with the other boy’s hovering. He frowned when he changed the bandages, letting out a sigh.

“Lance, it might be infected.”

Lance didn’t say anything, merely scowling down at the ground.

“If you get any worse, we’re taking you to a healer. That’s not negotiable.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get better then,” Lance replied stubbornly, prompting another sigh from his friend.

Keith had dragged his bedroll right next to Lance’s when they settled down for the night, not even trying to be subtle as he fixed Lance with big, worried eyes. “Wake me up if you feel any worse,” he whispered, and Lance had agreed if only to ease the other boy’s mind.

Now, hours later, he couldn’t sleep. He was tossing and turning, the heat of his wound seeming to have spread to the rest of his body, leaving a thin sheen of sweat over him. He kicked the blankets off, for a few brief moments enjoying the coolness of the air before it turned to ice on his skin, forcing him to bundle back up. The cycle repeated, a flash of too hot then too cold. His breath came out in stuttering coughs, a haze clouding his vision.

Normally he wouldn’t be caught off guard. Normally his ears would flick, picking up every little sound in the forest. His eyes would see through the darkness almost as though it were bright as day, taking in even the slightest of movements. But like this all he could focus on was the ceaseless shivering of his body, the ragged breaths he managed to suck in. All he could hear was his own heaving lungs. He didn’t see them. He didn’t even hear the footsteps.

Chapter Text

Hands flashed out in the darkness, grabbing Lance and dragging him to his feet. Another pair clamped around his mouth, silencing his cry before it could leave his throat. He thrashed, all the while his back screaming in pain. Still, he fought through it, eyes watering. His claws sunk into flesh and someone cursed, releasing his arms.

“Lance!”

Despite their attempts to silence him, the scuffle hadn’t exactly been quiet. Keith was there, springing up from where he’d been lying right next to him, his dagger already drawn. Behind him Hunk and Pidge were stumbling to their feet, and behind them more figures emerged from the bushes.

“Let go of him!”

Keith charged one of his attackers, giving Lance just enough leverage to fling the other one over his back, gritting his teeth against the surge of pain. His assailant scrambled up, scowling. For a moment Lance froze, eyes widening as he recognized the scarred face of the man from the bar.

“You really can’t take no for an answer, huh?” he called out, flexing his claws.

The man flexed his hands as well, but it wasn’t claws that emerged. Instead his palms began to glow a deep green, a slight wind picking up through the clearing.

“This could have been so much easier!” the man snapped. “You could’ve just let us buy you a drink. Or taken the bait about that jewel we laid out! All that planning wasted.”

Lance eyed his palms warily, beginning to circle him as the other spun to keep him in sight.

“What jewel-” he trailed off, recalling that odd story he’d been told at the bar. “Oh. So that was supposed to be a trap?”

“What kind of master thief doesn’t go after a priceless jewel?” the man complained.

“You should have tried dressing up like a princess.”

“Wha-”

Before the other man could finish his sentence, Lance lunged. He didn’t make it far, however. A blast of green energy flew at him as his attacker jabbed out with a fist. It was all he could do to dodge out of the way in time. The pain from his back was nearly constant now, his world still a haze of heat and his muscles feeling drained and weak. But he couldn’t afford to stop. Not yet.

The man launched another blast of energy. This time Lance was more prepared, ducking under it as he dashed in close. He had just enough time to savor the look of surprise in his attacker’s eyes before he slashed across his arm with his claws, jumping into a spinning kick that hit the other man square across the face and sent him sprawling backwards. He couldn’t help but cry out at the burst of pain that movement caused, shrinking in on himself. That moment of hesitation cost him. Yet another assailant emerged from the throng, swinging at Lance with a heavy sword.

Lance leapt out of the way, stumbling slightly under another wave of heat and pain. He could hear his friends fighting behind him; the clang of Keith’s dagger, the crash of Pidge’s ax, and the thundering of the earth as Hunk raised all hell. They could take these guys. He just had to hold out a little longer.

Lance stepped back from another sword swipe, this time not quite fast enough. The blade nicked his shoulder, making him grimace at the added pain. His energy was draining fast, and he knew he didn’t have the speed left to keep dodging. In a flash he kicked dust up into the air, his attacker crying out as grit blinded him. Lance snatched the other man’s hand, prying at his pinky until the thug was forced to drop his sword so as to not break his finger. Lance then whirled behind him, pinning his arm behind his back just before the point of breaking and forcing the man to his knees. He knocked him down with a swift blow to the back of the head before staggering upright himself. His world seemed to be swaying beneath him, the pain of all this movement almost unbearable. Then he saw a flash of green.

Lance managed to roll away just as a green blast scorched the earth where he’d been standing. This time he couldn’t suppress the scream of pain as he had to roll straight over his injured back, slumping to his knees when he came to a halt.

“Something the matter?” the scarred man called, grinning from behind one of his glowing hands. “You seem to be struggling there.”

Lance snarled, getting to his feet with a wince. He was barely up before he had to dive out of the way of another blast, his attacker advancing.

“Don’t worry,” the man called, the glow of his hands intensifying as he readied another blast. “You’re worth more to me alive than dead.”

Lance yelped as he dove away again, this time the heat of the energy searing his skin as it flew passed. He glanced around frantically for the others. He couldn’t see them in the crowd, more and more enemies seeming to pour out from the darkness.

The scarred man smirked. “Hold still why don’t you?”

Lance grit his teeth, yelping as he had to dive to the side again. He didn’t even have time to get to his feet before he was scrambling backwards from another blast, then another and another. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his vision swimming. His entire body felt like it was alight, his muscles screaming as he dragged himself further and further back. His world was nothing but flashes of green light and shadows closing in around him. He slumped down, every nerve ending searing for him to move but unable to make his exhausted body cooperate any longer. He shut his eyes as all was washed out in green.

Suddenly a giant gust of wind picked up around him. He could hear startled cries followed by a series of dull thuds. The wind seemed to dance wildly, spinning and swaying as if it had a mind of its own. There were more cries, more thuds, the sounds of metal and flesh and earth. Lance managed to squint his eyes open, trying to make sense of his surroundings through their haze.

He could just make out the blurry forms of Hunk, Pidge, and Keith, still moving in a crowd of enemies. Flashing among them was a streak of silver, stained pink in the first rays of dawn’s light. Lance watched the way the figure effortlessly moved, as though it were the air itself. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, coughing so hard he felt for sure he’d dispel his own lungs. He heard voices, frantic, a rush of feet. The last thing he saw was a haze of violet, soon swallowed by the numbing darkness.

Keith knelt beside the stranger, his thumb swiping across his knuckles, back and forth. His teeth were sunk into his lip, deep enough to draw blood as he watched her pass her hands over Lance’s back. The other boy lay still on the ground, his shirt ripped off and the angry red welt of a scar on full display. The woman’s hands passed over the wound again, trailing blue light behind them. Keith glanced up to where Hunk and Pidge stood, gazing anxiously down at their friend.

“You knew,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Both of them winced, but it was Pidge who spoke first. “I’m sorry, Keith.” Her voice was scratchy and raw. “We didn’t want to keep it from you, but Lance made us promise! He was afraid that if you found out, you’d try to leave.”

“You knew he was hurt and you didn’t do anything!”

“We did our best to heal him!” Hunk exclaimed. “I redressed the wound every night, but it just kept getting worse-”

“You have magic,” Keith growled out, gesturing to where the stranger passed her hands over Lance’s back yet again. “Why didn’t you do this?!”

“I don’t-” Hunk looked away, his eyes downcast. “I don’t know healing magic. I left before I ever learned.”

For a moment no one spoke. Then Keith took in a breath, his voice coming out eerily calm. “You knew that I hurt him.”

“We also knew that you didn’t mean to,” Pidge spoke up. Her voice came out harder this time. Stubborn. “Lance knew that too.”

“We didn’t want to keep this from you,” Hunk added. “But dude, you were so freaked out about… everything.” His eyes flitted over to the stranger, but she wasn’t paying them any mind, concentrating on her task.

Keith didn’t say anything. He barely even acknowledged Hunk’s words.

“Look,” Pidge knelt down in front of him. “We shouldn’t have kept this from you. But don’t you dare go beating yourself up about this. It was an accident.”

Keith grit his teeth but still didn’t speak.

“Keith,” Hunk added. “The problem isn’t your power or the, um-” he cast another nervous glance at the woman, cupping a hand over his mouth and lowering his voice, “the whole purple thing. It’s a lack of training. Like that guy that attacked us. He was using raw magical energy. He had a gift but it was clear he’d never been taught how to use it. If you’d just let me teach you-”

“I don’t want anything to do with this!” Keith snapped.

“Then would you rather this just happened again?” Pidge snapped back, gesturing towards Lance. Keith winced and Pidge paused too, seeming to inwardly grimace at her choice of words. She took a breath before continuing. “The fact is, you have this power whether you like it or not. So you can either let it keep bursting out of you and potentially hurting the people you care about. Or you can use it to protect those people. It’s an easy choice.”

Keith glanced over at Lance, his face screwed up in a worried grimace. Then he looked down at his hands, balling them into fists. “What if I can’t control it?” he whispered, his voice small. “What if this only makes it worse?”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Hunk said, sitting down beside him. He winced before adding. “Well, at least not again. Sorry. But, what I mean is that this is an uphill battle. It’s very difficult to control the elements, and fire is one of the most unpredictable. But Pidge is right. If you don’t even try, then the magic will control you instead. It’s not going to go away. It’ll keep just bursting out the next time you experience any sort of strong emotion, and you don’t know who’s going to be standing too close when that happens. If you won’t do it for your sake, then do it for Lance’s. He believes in you. And you know he’d do the same thing for you.”

Keith’s hands shook, nails biting into the flesh of his palms. He stared at his hands, as if he could find an answer scarred into the skin there. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice broken and raw. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Hunk breathed out. “And sorry. Again.”

Just then Lance let out a low groan. Instantly Keith was at his side, hovering over him, his hands hanging uselessly in the air as he hesitated. Lance shifted, propping himself up on his elbows as his eyes fluttered open. They landed on the stranger first, and a dopey grin spread across his face.

“Well, hello there,” he rasped out. “The name’s Lance.”

The strange woman didn't respond, the corners of her mouth turning sharply down into a frown. Lance’s eyes slid over to Keith then, still hovering over him anxiously. Sloppily he slung out an arm, his hand landing on Keith’s knee.

“You know,” Lance mumbled, giving Keith that same dopey grin. “I always wanted to go out surrounded by hot babes.”

Then just like that, he was out once more, slumping to the ground and leaving Keith with a bright red face and no way to process those words. The woman beside him clicked her tongue disapprovingly, her hands glowing blue as she resumed her healing.

“Sounds like he’s gonna be just fine,” Pidge snarked from somewhere behind Keith.

Hunk knelt down between Keith and the woman, fixing her with a polite smile. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“It’s quite alright,” the woman responded, her voice smooth and clear. “I couldn’t just pass by in good conscience when I saw that band of ruffians attacking you.”

Keith glanced the woman over, frowning. She had silver hair that stood out against her dark skin. Her eyes were a stunning blue and her manner of dress far outshone anyone else’s in their group. He supposed he could understand why a delirious Lance had referred to her as a “hottie,” although some deep down, ugly part of himself burned at the thought of having to share that category with anyone else in Lance’s mind. He pushed that part aside, turning to fully face her.

“What’s your name?” Keith asked bluntly, watching as the woman glanced away.

“Romelle,” she replied, a little too quickly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hunk said, all kind smiles even as Keith narrowed his eyes. “I’m Hunk, and this is Pidge and Keith. Our charming friend here is Lance.”

“Very charming,” the stranger added with a note of sarcasm.

“He likes to joke around but he’s a great guy,” Hunk assured.

“Why were you passing through here?” Keith asked, cutting in a bit abruptly.

The woman’s eyes met his for the first time. She paused, as if sizing him up. Keith held her gaze. “I’m a mercenary. I’m between jobs right now so I was traveling to the next city.”

“Fancy clothes for a mercenary.”

Now everyone’s eyes were on Keith. The woman’s mouth was turned down into a sharp frown yet again. “I make good coin,” she replied, her voice even.

“Well,” Hunk spoke up with a nervous laugh, “We’re actually headed to the capital! I’m sure there’s lots of work for you there. And we wouldn’t mind an extra traveling companion, so you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

The woman gave him a kind smile. “Yes, there’ll be plenty for me to do there. I’d love to accompany you, if you’ll have me.”

“After we saw you flinging those dudes around like they were pebbles?” Pidge piped up. “Definitely.”

The woman, Romelle, as she had said, laughed lightly. Keith didn’t take his eyes away, still studying her every reaction. There was something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place, but it looked familiar to him. It was resting on the edge of his mind, there and yet out of focus, just beyond reach. He ground his teeth together, frustrated.

“There,” Romelle sat back, the soft blue light around her hands dying. “He’ll feel a lot better when he wakes up. He’s going to need to heal the rest on his own, but this’ll stabilize him at least.”

Sure enough, Lance’s wound looked much better, its swelling having gone down significantly. Keith let out a relieved breath, tempted to brush his fingers along the scar but holding himself back.

“We better start packing up,” Hunk said, getting to his feet. “We need to hit the road as soon as Lance wakes up so we don’t have a repeat encounter with those guys.”

“They’d have to be idiots to come back,” Pidge added, heading after him.

Keith got to his feet as well, reluctant to step away from Lance. Still, he forced himself to turn his back, pausing as he did. Keith glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with the woman. She regarded him warily, frowning up at him from where she still knelt on the ground. For a moment they simply stared, the air thick between them. Keith let out a breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Then, without waiting for a response, he followed after Hunk and Pidge.

Chapter Text

When Lance’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was a haze of silver. He blinked a few times, his bleary eyes slowly adjusting until he could make out the face of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She had dark skin and silver hair cascading in waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of the sky on a clear day, with small pink markings just underneath them.

Then she disappeared, leaning out of his view as a different face leaned in and okay, maybe she was the second most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Lance barely had time to process that thought before Keith was asking, “How are you feeling?”

Lance blinked, deciding it was a better idea to put his brain to work on figuring out why he was lying on the ground then spending any time whatsoever on analyzing that last thought. His brows furrowed as he glanced at the treetops, trying to remember. Slowly, the ambush came back to him: the man with green glowing hands, the streak of silver.

He sat up suddenly, wincing with the movement, but the intensity of the pain had dulled considerably. There was no longer a constant heat beneath his skin, and each breath flowed easily into his lungs.

“What happened?” Lance asked. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re all fine.”

Lance turned, finding Pidge smiling down at him with Hunk standing beside her, both with their packs already slung over their back.

“You took your sweet time waking up,” Pidge added, although Lance could see the hint of concern in her eyes as she gazed at him.

“Are you alright, buddy?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah,” Lance murmured, glancing around in confusion. They seemed to be in a different part of the forest then where they'd set up camp. “I guess I must’ve passed out. But I feel a lot better now. And I promise, I’m not just saying that.”

“We know,” Pidge assured him. “You have her to thank for that.”

Lance’s eyes fell on the strange woman once more, still kneeling in front of him.

“You had a nasty burn on your back,” she spoke up, her voice smooth, “but I healed the worst of it.”

“What?” Lance sputtered, eyes flicking to Keith. “No, I-”

“Lance,” Hunk interrupted. “He knows.”

Lance turned to Keith, a grimace on his face. It didn’t help that Keith wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Keith, I-” Lance glanced at the people around them, taking in the sympathetic look on Hunk’s face and how Pidge’s eyebrows where raised in a clear expression of ‘I told you so.’ His gaze landed on the stranger last. He owed her a thank you, and learning her name was a pretty good idea too, but he decided right then and there that introductions would have to wait. He turned back to Keith. “Could I- Could we talk?”

Keith met his gaze then, nodding silently. He stood up, offering his hand to Lance. Lance took it, feeling only the slightest twinge of pain as he got to his feet. He shot another glance at the others, finding Hunk and Pidge trying very hard to mind their own business and look away. The stranger was giving the two of them a puzzled look, but she hung back as Lance guided Keith into the trees.

Once the others were out of earshot he turned to the other boy. Keith’s arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his head tilted down.

“Keith,” Lance breathed out. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have kept that from you. But I didn’t want you to leave. I-” he paused, his voice growing small. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Keith’s fingers dug into the skin of his arms. “What’s wrong with you?” he breathed out, his voice so quiet that Lance almost didn’t hear him. But Lance did in fact hear, the words like an icy needle in his chest.

“What?” he asked, his voice only growing smaller, his ears flattening.

Keith met his eyes then, and it took Lance’s breath away to see the anguish shining through them. “You should be angry,” Keith said. “I burned you. I hurt you! You should be furious with me and instead you say you’re sorry?”

“That was an accident!” Lance exclaimed. “I know you’d never try and hurt me. And I was trying not to hurt you by keeping it from you, but I think we can both see how that went. I should’ve told you-”

“Yes, you should have,” Keith cut in. There was silence for a moment. Then, “I’m angry.” Lance flinched, but Keith held up his hands placatingly. “Not at you. At myself. I’m angry that I lost control like that, that you got caught in the crossfire, and I’m angry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me without me losing it again.”

“I wasn’t worried about another incident,” Lance said. “I was worried about you. I didn’t want you to blame yourself, just like you are right now. You didn’t mean to burn me, Keith.”

“But I did,” Keith cut in, wrapping his arms around himself once more. Another pause. “And I’m so sorry.”

Lance didn’t like the way this conversation was going one bit. He didn’t like the way Keith looked small and meek, when Lance knew that he was bold and dauntless and blazed ahead like the sun above them. So he did all he could think to do. He stepped forward, wrapping Keith up in his arms and holding the other boy tight to him, hoping he could bring some of that light back to the surface.

Keith responded instantly, his own arms encircling Lance as he tucked his face against Lance’s neck. Lance could feel the shaky breath he let out against the skin there.

“I’m not going to say I forgive you,” he murmured into the other boy’s halo of dark hair, “because there is literally nothing to forgive.”

For a moment Keith’s arms squeezed tighter. “You’re wrong,” he whispered.

“Keith-” Lance began, but the other boy didn’t let him finish.

“I’m going to learn to control it.”

“What?”

Keith leaned back, their arms still around each other, but now meeting Lance’s eyes for the first time. “Hunk’s going to help me. And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure this never happens again.”

Lance smiled softly, reaching up to push a few strands of hair away from those earnest, violet eyes. “Okay,” he breathed out. “That sounds like a plan.” For a moment they just held each other’s gaze, staring softly at one another. Then Lance cupped the back of Keith’s head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder. Keith went easily, letting out a soft sigh as he relaxed in Lance’s arms. A moment passed. Then another and another. Finally, the two pulled apart, slowly and with a note of reluctance in both their faces. Still, the others were waiting. And there’d be no way to avoid the onslaught of teasing if Pidge had to come and get them.

They headed back through the trees until their little group was in sight once more. It was only then that Lance remembered the presence of the strange woman, all other non-Keith thoughts having been banished from his mind. He gave her a sheepish smile, stepping up to her.

“Thank you for healing me,” he said. “I don’t believe I got your name?”

“It’s-” the woman paused, a strange expression flickering across her face before she said, “Romelle.”

Keith tensed beside him, but Lance brushed off the other boy’s strange demeanor. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and she shook it with a smile of her own. Her hands looked somewhat delicate, but her grip was surprisingly strong and firm.

“I’m curious,” Romelle said, drawing her hand back. “Do you remember waking up once before now?”

A slight, choked off noise came from beside him and Lance turned to find that Keith had gone bright red, the other boy ducking his head to try and hide in vain. Lance’s brow furrowed in confusion before turning back to Romelle. “No?” he replied. “Did something happen?”

An amused smile flickered across her face. “Let’s just say you make a strong first impression.” She turned then, her silver hair falling over her shoulder as she cast a glance back at the group. “Shall we be off, then?”

Without waiting for a reply Romelle set off. Hunk and Pidge fell in behind her, Pidge giving Lance a devilish grin as she passed him. “I like her,” she whispered.

Lance turned to Keith, the other boy’s face still quite red. “What was that all about?”

“No idea,” Keith muttered, hurrying after the others and leaving Lance to scramble after him in turn.

“So, you’re a mercenary?” Lance asked. The aspens swayed softly around them, yellow leaves spiraling down to carpet the forest floor.

“Yes,” Romelle replied, pushing one such gilded branch out of her way. “I’m new to this line of work. I’ve only just recently left home.”

“We’re lucky you showed up when you did,” Hunk said, beaming at her.

“Why were those ruffians attacking you?” Romelle asked, shooting them all a quizzical look.

“Probably wanted to rob us!” Lance said quickly, giving her his brightest smile. “It can be dangerous out on the road. It’s certainly not the first time we’ve had a run in with some bandits.”

Luckily Romelle nodded, seeming to accept his answer. “Why are you all out on the road? You’re traveling too light to be merchants.”

“We’re just on holiday,” Lance explained. He noticed Hunk fidgeting nervously from the corner of his eye. Tension practically radiated off of Keith from where he stood beside Lance. Still, Lance kept his cool, forcing his smile not to waver. “We like to travel around and see the world. I heard Altea is lovely in the fall so we came here just before the coup. Now the border’s closed so we’re stuck here for while I guess.” Lance turned to her with an airy laugh, but he paused at what he saw.

Romelle’s expression had gone dark, her eyes flashing with something he couldn’t quite decipher, yet still made a shiver snake down his spine. She noticed him looking and quickly schooled her expression into something more neutral, although she couldn’t quite hide that sharp edge in her gaze.

“Sorry,” she spoke up. “As a mercenary I stand for a certain code of morals and justice. And assassinating the royal family-” here her voice shook. She had to pause, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath before continuing. “Such a heinous act is not one I can abide by.”

“It must be hard for the kingdom with their rulers now gone,” Pidge said, giving her a sympathetic look.

“Yes,” Allura agreed, just a flash of that darkness from before returning to her face. “My people suffer under the hands of that traitor.”

There was a long silence after that. No one quite knew what to say. Lance could see from the corner of his eye that Keith’s posture hadn’t relaxed one bit. He seemed wound up, as though ready to spring into battle. He shot the other boy a questioning look but Keith didn’t meet his eyes. The other boy’s gaze was trained intensely on Romelle, watching every step she took, every move she made. Lance nudged him slightly and Keith jumped, fixing him with a pair of wide eyes before glancing quickly away, his face heating up. Something bitter curled in Lance’s stomach but he pushed it down, turning back to Romelle.

“Do you know what we can expect to find in the capital?” he called. Romelle glanced over her shoulder at him.

“I used to live there, before all this,” she replied. “I had to flee when that traitor stole the throne.” She faced forward again, her voice firm. “I’m going back to do what I can.”

“What do you plan to do?” Keith spoke up abruptly.

Lance turned to him, finding Keith staring at Romelle’s back with narrowed eyes. In front of them, Romelle tensed. “I’m not sure yet,” she murmured.

Keith didn’t take his eyes off of her. Lance frowned. He didn’t take his eyes off of Keith.

“So,” Lance spoke up, trying his best to keep his voice casual. “What do you think of our newest member?”

Keith paused from where he was laying his bedroll next to Lance’s. He had been staring at Romelle during the entire act, but when he heard Lance’s voice he flinched, glancing quickly away.

“I don’t know yet,” Keith said curtly, laying down. There was a pause as Lance settled beside him. Keith met his eyes. “What do you think of her?”

Lance glanced over at the woman. She had laid out her bedroll on the other side of their dying campfire, a little away from the others. Her silver hair fanned down to shield her face as she knelt on the ground, rummaging through her bag.

“She’s beautiful,” Lance answered honestly. “And apparently a total badass.”

Keith frowned sharply then. He rolled onto his side, facing away from Lance. “Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding somewhat defeated. “I guess she is.”

Lance stared at him a moment, that bitter feeling from earlier surfacing in his gut. Keith sounded so sullen. Lance had to bite his lip to keep from scoffing. As if he was any competition. If Keith was interested in Romelle then he had no need to feel threatened by Lance. Keith was a mysterious, brooding, rugged badass. All he’d have to do was look at some lucky girl with his dark eyes and she’d be sure to fall all over him.

Lance crossed his arms, glaring up at the stars as if they had personally offended him. His tail flicked agitatedly at his side. He had to admit, Keith and Romelle would make a great match. They were both beautiful badasses. And Keith was his friend. He should be thrilled at the thought of him finding someone. He should be happy. Yet all he could feel was that cold bitterness, sinking like lead in the pit of his stomach. He wished he understood why.

Chapter Text

Romelle kept mostly to herself. She’d idly chat with the others, but not much more than that. Keith made sure to watch her every move, her every expression, every word, and every step. Something wasn’t right about her. Sometimes she’d answer questions too quickly, other times too slow, always with a flicker of doubt on her face. She seemed determined not to talk about herself, and would give vague answers before quickly changing the subject. Plus, Keith stood by what he’d said earlier about her manner of dress. It was far too nice for a sellsword, especially one who’d supposedly just gotten into the business.

Keith made sure to stand between her and Lance on the road. He sat between them at meals, and placed his bedroll on the side of Lance that was closest to her. He wasn’t sure who she was and he wasn’t sure what she was after, but he’d be ready if she tried anything.

Lance always gave him strange looks whenever he did these things. There was a flicker of something cold and hollow in his eyes, but it always passed before Keith could get a good look. On the other hand, when Lance smiled at her it was full and bright, and when he talked to her it had a playful air. Keith hated it. And he hated that he hated it, because what right did he have to get between them? But he told himself, again and again, that there was something about her that just wasn’t right. That he was doing this for Lance’s safety. Just for Lance.

“Keith!”

Keith jumped, caught staring yet again at Romelle from where she was starting their campfire. He spun around, catching a glimpse of that hollow look in Lance’s eyes before it vanished, the other boy all smiles once more.

“Come on! We’re going to do a magic lesson with Hunk.”

Keith frowned, his hands curling into fists as he glanced away. Then his mind caught on one word and he looked up quickly. “We?”

“Yeah!” Lance replied. “You’re not the only one who gets to have cool powers.”

“Lance, I-” Keith averted his eyes once more. “I think I should do this alone.”

Lance frowned sharply, placing his hands on his hips. “Okay, the whole broody loner thing you’ve got going might work for most people, but we’re a team. The whole point of a team is to work together and help each other.”

“That’s not-” Keith protested, his eyes narrowing as he continued to avoid Lance’s gaze. He paused, his shoulders slumping as he let out a sigh. When he next spoke, his voice came out small. “Lance, the last time I used my powers around you, you got hurt.”

There was a pause. Then Lance let out a huff, sitting down beside him. “I’m not afraid of you, Keith. Or your powers.”

Keith crossed his arms over his knees, fingernails biting into the skin.

“This is just a simple training session. Nothing bad’s gonna happen. Besides, Hunk will be there. If there are any fire flare ups, then he’s prepared to douse it right away with water. We’re safe. I’m safe. So you don’t need to worry.

Keith’s teeth sunk into his lip, his thumb beginning to glide over his knuckles.

“Hey, none of that.” Lance’s hand landed on his, stilling the movement and sending a wave of heat throughout his body. Keith looked up at him with wide eyes, his cheeks flaring even redder as Lance’s thumb stroked along the back of his hand instead.

“It’s going to be fine,” Lance said with that smile that made Keith feel like the earth had fallen out from under him. “I’ll splash you myself if I need to. Or maybe even if I don’t need to,” he added, a flicker of mischief in those blue eyes.

Keith shoved him lightly with hsi free hand, using the opportunity to lean closer into his space. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lance laughed, the sound like music, and used his grip on Keith’s hand to pull him to his feet.

“Now stop being angsty and come on,” he teased, his hand still in Keith’s as he led him along. “We don’t want to get scolded by the teacher.”

Keith followed easily, guided forward by the warmth of Lance’s palm against his own. It wasn’t until right before they came in eyesight of Hunk that Lance dropped his hand. Keith missed it like a second skin.

Keith let out a growl of frustration, glaring down at his open palm. When he didn’t want it to, fire practically came bursting out of him, but when he was actually trying he couldn’t summon so much as a spark. Across from him Hunk frowned, eyebrows knit in concentration. Next to him Lance was giving him a sympathetic look. A stream of water had been curling around his arm, but it splashed limply to the forest floor as Lance lost his focus, not even noticing it had gone.

“I’m trying,” Keith hissed out, despite no one having said anything. “It’s just not working!”

He’d tried clearing his mind. Tried picturing fire. He’d thought of the campfire. The flicker of flame on a candle wick. He’d even tried recalling the fire at Sullivan’s manor, roaring around them and licking up the walls. Nothing worked.

“You know,” Hunk began thoughtfully, “maybe this doesn’t work the same for you as it does most people. Your fire is unusually powerful for a beginner.”

Keith flinched, his eyes flitting briefly to Lance before he looked away, his palm closing into a fist.

“Keith,” Hunk continued, his face apologetic. “I’m not trying to dig at old wounds, but the last time you used fire it was triggered by a strong emotion. Maybe if you-”

“No.” Keith’s eyes narrowed, glaring at his clenched fist. His hand shook.

“Hear me out,” Hunk tried to continue. “What if-”

“I’m not doing anything like last time,” Keith said, his voice taking on a hard edge.

A warm brown hand closed over his fist, a slender finger stroking along his wrist. “Keith,” Lance murmured, his voice soft. “Just listen to what he has to say first.”

Keith frowned sharply, but he couldn’t help as his fist relaxed, the shaking easing. “I’m not going to do anything that could hurt someone,” he whispered.

“That’s what I mean,” Hunk spoke up. “Last time it was triggered by a strong negative emotion. What if you tried to trigger it through a strong positive emotion?”

Keith’s brows furrowed, his mouth creasing into a frown. Still he didn’t say anything. “Maybe that way it’ll be easier to control,” Hunk continued. “At the very least it should be a less unpleasant experience for you, since it comes from something happy.”

Keith still didn’t say anything. The other two let the silence rest in the air, looking at him expectantly. When it became clear he wasn’t going to speak up, lance took in a breath, his finger continuing its path along Keith’s wrist.

“It’s worth a shot,” Lance murmured.

Keith met his eyes then, holding it firmly for a moment, then another and another. Lance gazed back, his own eyes resolute, unflinching, not a single shadow of doubt in their depths. Keith finally broke their gaze, nodding with a slight tilt of his head.

“You both have to stand back,” he said. “Far back.”

Lance and Hunk did so, retreating a good 30 feet away. Keith shot them both an uncertain look before gazing down to his fist, slowly unfurling it into an open palm once more. He took in a deep breath. Happy thoughts. He needed a happy thought. But not just any thought. A strong one.

His mind went first to his father. To a loving smile, a pair of firm, safe arms. But it came with a powerful, bitter twinge and he had to physically shake himself, blinking his eyes rapidly. He couldn’t think of that. He had to choose something that wasn’t tainted by loss, by despair and a pain so visceral he could barely keep his feet under himself. So he thought. He thought of a pair of shining gray eyes, a soothing voice whispering comforts as he shook from a nightmare, a strong hand rubbing circles into his back. And it filled him with warmth and a pang of longing to see those eyes and hear that voice again. But it wasn’t quite enough. The warmth stayed in his chest, solid and secure, rather than spreading down his arm and bursting into a peel of golden flame. He frowned, concentrating, some of that frustration creeping back into him. Then his eyes locked on Lance from across the clearing.

There was a flash of heat, of light, a ball of fire clawing its way into the sky in an instant. Keith cried out, jumping back, the fire vanishing as soon as it had appeared. All that was left to prove its existence was a plume of gray smoke.

“Keith!” Hunk yelled across the clearing. “Hold on to that thought! Instead of letting the emotion consume you, try and control it. Hold it there and focus!”

Keith swallowed, glancing nervously down at his hand. His palm was shaking. He took in a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, raising his hand once more. When he opened them, he looked at Lance. Lance’s smooth brown skin. His soft hair, curling just slightly at the edges. His blue eyes, sparkling like crystalline pools. He could hear the timber of Lance’s voice in his head, the tumble of his laughter. He could picture the way those eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. Those eyes-

The fire was roaring, surging, growing, and Keith looked. He looked and looked, drowning in the depths of those eyes. And then another pair of blue eyes came to mind. Lighter. Like the sky. Framed by hair the color of clouds. And he could picture Lance’s smile but it wasn’t for him anymore, Lance’s laugh except it wasn’t his ears that got to hear it. He could see the way those eyes crinkled. Soft. Fond. But they weren’t looking at him. Keith grit his teeth. Then the fire exploded.

Lance had stood there, awestruck, as he watched the column of flame soar from Keith's outstretched hand, growing higher and higher. He’d never seen anything like it. It’s light seemed to gild Keith’s skin, catching in his dark eyes as though they were glowing. And the whole time Keith stared at him. Just him. Lance was caught in that gaze, unable to look away, to comprehend anything else. He couldn’t decipher it. It was intense, focused. Like Lance was the only thing that existed, the only thing Keith could see. And indeed, the trees seemed to drop out around them, even Hunk’s presence at his side fading away as Lance was drawn into the storm swirling in those irises, lit up by the lightning flash of gold. Then, for just a moment, pain pierced through those eyes, sharp and cold. The world turned white.

Lance stumbled back as a wave of force collided with him, just getting his feet under himself in time. And the world was back, the tree trunks swaying violently, Hunk stumbling up from his knees. The darkness of night pooled in once more, flowing between the pinpricks still dotting his vision. And there was Keith, crumpled on the ground.

Lance didn’t register moving. One moment he was there, standing by Hunk, and the next he was at Keith's side, cradling his face and tilting it up, desperately searching out the storm of those eyes. He found them, relief shuddering so violently through him that his hands shook on Keith’s cheek.

“Keith!” Lance exclaimed, voice breaking at the end. “Keith, are you okay?!”

Keith just stared at him, his eyes wide, pupils blown, his chest heaving. Lance cursed, snatching at Keith’s hands but having to immediately pull away at the heat radiating from them. Just like how he couldn't remember running to Keith’s side, he didn’t register the water sliding up his arms, seeping from the moist soil of the forest. It was just suddenly there, wrapping around his hands like a glove. He pressed his palms to Keith’s, the water steaming up into the air with a quiet hiss.

He was vaguely aware of a presence at his side, then a retreating pair of footfalls as Hunk called out, “I’ll go get help!” Lance didn’t take the time to glance his way, heart pounding a staccato beat against his ribs as he clung to the boy below him.

“Fuck,” Lance gasped out. “Keith, answer me, please!”

Keith swallowed heavily, blinking a few times as the shock started to seep away from his face. “Lance?” he rasped out.

“Are you hurt?” Lance exclaimed, glancing frantically down to his palms. To his surprise, the skin there was smooth and pale, no scorching red or charred black like he’d feared.

“I-I’m fine,” Keith stuttered. Suddenly his eyes widened again and he grabbed Lance, fingers curling in his shirt, desperate. “Fuck, Lance! Are you-? Did I-”

“I’m fine,” Lance cut him off, giving him a wavering smile. “We were far enough back.”

Keith relaxed, the heat of his scorching palms fading. “Fuck,” he repeated, voice broken. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Lance scolded. The water fell away from his own palms and he wrapped his arms around Keith, pulling the other boy to him. Keith shook against him, hands still clinging tight, like he was afraid Lance would vanish into thin air. Lance could feel how the other boy trembled against him.

“You thought of something bad, right?” Lance murmured. Keith went rigid in his arms. “I saw it in your eyes. The fire was huge, it just kept growing. But it was contained. It didn’t spread. Then I saw your expression change to something dark and it just blew up. You thought of something bad.”

“It’s not bad,” Keith said weakly, more like he was trying to convince himself than Lance. “I just-” He trailed off, like he couldn’t find the words. Instead he clung tighter, pushed closer, as though he could keep it all, the world, his thoughts, out. “If I had burned you again-”

“You didn’t,” Lance cut him off. “We were careful. And Hunk was right. You started to control it. Just enough not to spread. We need to focus on the happy thoughts.”

“Lance, I can’t-” Keith gasped.

“Keith, please.” Lance whispered. “I know this is terrifying. When I saw you on the ground, I thought..” he trailed off, holding on just a bit tighter. “Being that close, you should’ve been burned. But you’re not! I don’t think this can hurt you-”

Keith pulled back sharply, his eyes dark, glaring up at Lance. “But it can hurt you!”

“Not if we’re careful,” Lance murmured, voice urgent. “And not if you learn to control it. Not if we don’t give up. I know you can do this, Keith. I saw it.”

Keith’s body relaxed once more, although he looked more defeated than calm. Lance hated when he looked like that. “I can’t hurt you again,” he whispered.

“You won’t,” Lance reassured him. “We know what to do now. We stay far back. You focus on the positive. Think about putting Pidge in a headlock or something. That always makes me happy.”

Keith couldn’t help the small snort of laughter, leaning into Lance’s shoulder once more. He felt Lance’s hand travel up the back of his neck, weaving into his hair. His fingers combed through the strands, every movement a balm against Keith’s racing heart. He felt warm. He felt safe. And yet still, underneath, he felt scared.

Chapter Text

The following magic lessons were thankfully explosion free. Slowly, tentatively, Keith was getting a better grasp on his fire. Still, every now and then Lance would see whatever happy thought that was lighting up his eyes flicker out, the flames sputtering into nothing but smoke between his fingers. Whenever that happened, Keith would stop the lesson for the day, and whenever Lance tried to talk to him about it, Keith just got even quieter and told him it was nothing. Lance was getting worried, but he couldn’t make Keith talk about it if the other boy didn’t want to. So he just kept an eye on him, doing his best to take Keith’s mind off whatever it was as he joked and teased him.

Keith seemed to brighten at his jokes, and his laughter had honestly become something precious to Lance since he so seldom gave it to anyone else. But there was one thing in particular that Lance noticed was sure to wipe the smile off his face.

Romelle. Every time she spoke up, with her own funny stories or past travels, Keith always went back to being quiet again, his mouth turned into a sharp frown and his eyes looking hazy and lost. In fact, Lance noticed that he and Romelle barely interacted, hardly a word ever spoken between them. Honestly, Lance was surprised by this. He’d never pegged Keith for the shy type. Socially awkward, absolutely, but not shy.

Lance couldn’t help the bitter curl in his stomach every time he watched Keith’s face fall. If he was a better man, he might have offered to be a wingman for Keith, since it was so obviously bothering the other boy that he couldn’t talk to the girl he was after. Lance was ashamed to say that he wasn’t a better man.

A week passed in this way, with Keith’s powers somehow becoming more and less stable at the same time, depending on what thoughts crossed his mind. Lance watched Keith, and Keith watched Romelle. It hurt to see those violet eyes taking in someone else so intensely. Lance didn’t know why.

Their group had reached a small city near the heart of the kingdom, just in time to restock on supplies once more. They’d learned their lesson from last time so, as casually as possible, Lance and Hunk volunteered to stay behind. However, they weren’t the only ones.

“I’d rather remain here,” Romelle said rather quickly, a crease between her brows.

“What? Why?” Pidge asked, unable to hide the disappointment on her face. Lance had noticed that the young dwarf had taken quite a liking to Romelle the past couple of weeks.
“I-I don’t do well in crowds,” Romelle stammered out.

“I thought you used to live in the capital?” Keith spoke up, his voice somewhat sharp.

Lance had to resist the urge to face palm. The only time Keith ever seemed to exchange a word with their newest member was to interrogate her. Lance knew he was just trying to get to know her in his weird Keith-way, but it really wasn’t helping his cause. Some bitter part of himself couldn’t contain the wave of relief at this.

“I did,” Romelle looked away, the crease between her brows growing. “I had to grow used to it then but its been a while now. I’d just prefer to stay.”

Keith didn’t say anything to that, but he looked like he wanted to. His stare only intensified. And then his eyes flicked to Lance. Lance froze, caught staring himself, but Keith didn’t seem to pay any mind as his gaze continued to flick between him and Romelle. He looked worried, and there was a note of distrust there. Lance really couldn’t contain his bitterness at that. After everything they’d been through, Keith thought that Lance would just steal his crush right out from under his nose? Lance might not be willing to volunteer his services as wingman, but he still knew the bro-code, and stealing your friend’s crush broke basically every rule. He wouldn’t do something like that to Keith, and couldn’t help but feel offended that Keith thought he might.

Lance looked away, his eyes narrowing as he grit his teeth. He heard someone take a step towards him, and Keith’s voice rang out hesitantly. “Lance?”

“Look, you can’t make her go if she doesn’t want to,” Lance snapped, still glaring heatedly at the ground. “And Pidge can’t carry all the supplies back on her own.”

A long silence followed his outburst. Lance didn’t look up, but he could feel all the other’s eyes on him. Pidge was the one to eventually break it.

“Okayyyy,” she spoke up. “Let’s get going, Keith.”

Lance could hear her retreating footsteps. There was a moment’s pause before Keith joined her, his own footsteps fading away. Lance finally glanced up then, watching the other boy’s retreating back. Then Keith turned, just enough to glance over his shoulder, and their eyes locked. Keith looked hurt. Really hurt. And Lance felt like a total asshole.

He almost ran after the other boy right then to apologize, but the next moment the trees had swallowed them up. Lance let out a sigh, turning to face the two remaining people. Romelle had her back to him, already wandering off. But Hunk was fixing him with a look that read, clear as day, ‘We need to talk.’

Lance crossed his arms defensively, glaring to the side once more. “What?” he grumbled.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” Hunk asked.

“I-” Lance gestured angrily towards where Keith and Pidge had disappeared, “He-!” He trailed off, letting out a sigh. No, this wasn’t on Keith. “I just overreacted,” Lance admitted, shoulders slumping.

“Overreacted to what?” Hunk asked, his brows raised in a very unimpressed manner.

“I just- I think Keith has a thing for Romelle. And I’m pretty sure he sees me as competition. Which is flattering and all, but I think it might be kind of getting in the way of our friendship? Just now he looked super suspicious, like he didn’t want to leave me alone with her. And I just got kind of upset and lashed out.”

Hunk didn’t speak for a long moment. His brows were furrowed, like he was trying to work something out in his head. When he did finally speak, it was slow, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Keith really cares about you, Lance.”

“I know,” Lance sighed. “I’m just upset that even after all this time, he doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Hunk replied.

“What else could it be?” Lance asked, frustration seeping back into his voice.

“I’m not saying this to be mean, but Keith is a bit of a paranoid person. He jumped to conclusions when he first met you and it took him quite a while before he warmed up to me and Pidge. He kept watching us like a hawk even though he knew we were your friends, like he thought we were going to attack you or something. He’s kind of doing the same thing to Romelle now. It’s just gonna take some time for him to relax.”

Lance frowned. “Yeah, I guess. I can’t really blame him after what he’s been through.”

Hunk nodded solemnly.

“I think I owe him an apology, though,” Lance added.

His friend placed a hand on his shoulder, a kind smile lighting up the other boy’s face. “I think that’s for the best.”

The sun was starting to go down by the time Keith and Pidge returned, laden down with supplies. Lance sprang up right away, heading over to help them unpack.

“It’s a good thing you guys stayed behind,” Pidge whispered to him, carefully eyeing where Romelle sat by the fire. “There were wanted posters all over.”

Lance frowned. “I really want us to try and find a quick job here before we move on. It’s been a long while since I last sent my family some funds.”

“That’s not gonna work with your face plastered everywhere.”

Lance shot her a wink, a mischievous grin curling around his lips. “You leave that to me.”

Pidge just rolled her eyes, going back to packing. Lance glanced over to Keith then, trying to catch the other boy’s eye. However, Keith’s gaze was locked firmly on his task, treating it with a single-minded concentration it really didn’t warrant. Lance worked alongside him in silence until they’d gotten the supplies properly packed. Keith stood up quickly then, making to leave, but Lance reached out in a flash and caught his wrist. It was then that Keith finally met his eyes, his violet gaze uncertain.

“Hey,” lance murmured, giving him a weak smile. “Could we talk?”

Keith nodded slightly, looking away once more. Lance gave him a small smile as he stood up, still gripping Keith’s wrist to lead the other boy away from the others. He didn’t drop it even when he got Keith alone.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” Lance spoke up, voice coming out sheepish. Keith’s eyes snapped back to him then, widening in surprise. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” Lance trailed off, his brow creasing. He’d been dancing around this subject for weeks, and he wasn’t going to bring it up now. Thinking about it was bad enough, but actually saying it outloud would make it all the more real. At least this way some part of himself could pretend Keith’s feelings for Romelle didn’t exist. “I don’t know what came over me,” Lance finished lamely, fidgeting awkwardly.

Keith let out a breath. “It’s alright,” he replied, although he still sounded sad somehow. Lance really didn’t like that. Keith looked away for yet again, his mouth pulling down into a sharp frown. When he next spoke, his voice came out strained. “Did you enjoy your time with Romelle?”

That bitter feeling remerged, and Lance had to grit his teeth to keep from saying anything else he would regret. He knew this was about Romelle. And honestly, it hurt to know that Keith didn’t trust him enough to leave him with her. It hurt a lot. But he wasn’t going to take that hurt out on Keith again.

“Honestly, we didn’t even talk,” Lance said, feeling himself deflate with the breath that left his lungs. His grasp on Keith’s wrist loosened, giving the other boy the chance to pull away. Keith didn’t. “She seemed kind of agitated about something. She kept pacing by herself. Hunk tried to talk to her at some point, but she just sort of brushed him off.”

Keith seemed to relax then. He moved his hand up, lacing his fingers with Lance’s own. Lance froze, feeling heat rush to his face as he stared at Keith with wide eyes.

“I wish you could have come with us,” Keith said quietly. “I’m sick of seeing those stupid posters.”

Lance gasped dramatically, bringing his free hand up to his chest. “Sick of seeing my gorgeous face?”

Keith’s eyes widened then, a look of panic in them. “No, that’s not-!”

Lance laughed, tugging on Keith’s hand to bring him closer. Keith kept staring at him with those big eyes, his cheeks stained slightly pink.

“I’m just teasing you man,” Lance said, relieved to be talking to Keith like normal again. No Romelle, no jealousy. Just like they used to be. “I know it’s impossible to get tired of all this.” He gestured dramatically to himself.

He was expecting Keith to scoff and roll his eyes, to shoot some witty retort back at him. Instead Keith smiled. It was small and soft, his eyes crinkling at the edges and the violet sparkling like a night sky filled with stars. “Yeah,” Keith breathed out. That was all. Just one simple word. Lance felt like his entire body had caught fire.

“Keith!” Lance exclaimed, ducking down to hide his face. “Warn a guy next time you’re going to say something nice!”

Keith just laughed, the sound so soft and fond that it was like the earth had been swept out from under Lance’s feet. He really couldn’t have done anything but pull the other boy in, wrapping his arms around him and burying his burning face in the other boy’s shoulder. Keith was still laughing quietly, his own arms firm and secure around Lance.

The laughter died down, and for a long moment the two just stood there, holding each other. “I really am sorry,” Lance murmured into the fabric of his shirt. “I just… You mean a lot to me.”

He felt Keith’s arms tighten ever so slightly, the other boy bringing his own face to rest against Lance’s neck. “You mean a lot to me too,” Keith whispered, his breath tickling Lance’s skin. All his ugly insecurities from earlier were washed away, just like that, in Keith’s steady presence. Lance let out a sigh, shutting his eyes and letting himself just enjoy the moment.

Lance barely even paid any mind to Keith’s staring at Romelle the rest of the night. Whenever he caught Keith’s eyes wandering, he’d just say some new joke or start another one of his wild stories. Every time Keith’s gaze would instantly snap back to him, the other boy’s attention fully on him once more as he laughed or teased Lance during his ramblings. It left a little spark of happiness in Lance’s chest to see that, even with Keith’s preoccupation with Romelle, Lance could capture his attention back in a heartbeat.

Like usual, Keith laid out his bedroll right beside Lance, on the side of him facing Romelle. Maybe a bit of that bitterness would have come back if it weren’t for the soft, sleepy smile Keith gave him, looking at Lance last out of everyone before he let his eyes slip shut. Lance stayed awake a long while, watching as Keith peacefully slept, his slow, quiet breaths shifting a strand of his bangs that had fallen down into his face. Lance reached out, gently moving the strand behind Keith’s ear, watching the moonlight weave through it like silver thread. He let his fingers slide gently across Keith’s cheek, unable to hold back a soft smile of his own.

Then he sat up, moving quickly but quietly as he got out from under his blankets. He needed to work fast, in case one of the others woke up in the night and noticed he was gone. He knew they wouldn’t exactly approve of his plan, but he had to do it. He didn’t want to go any longer without sending funds to his family. One of his little cousins could be sick and need medicine, or his mami might be running low on ingredients for their big family meals. He felt a pang of longing in his chest but he pushed it aside, getting up to slink quietly into the trees. He didn’t notice the figure sitting up behind him.

Chapter Text

Lance ducked low, avoiding patches of moonlight in favor of the shadows. It didn’t take him long to discover the posters that Pidge had been alluding to. His face was plastered on almost every public building alongside a slew of other criminals. Hunk’s poster was a bit less frequent, but Lance recognized the features of his friend here and there as well. He was swift, snatching their posters from the wall and stuffing them in his satchel. A beam of moonlight caught on one such paper outside of a bar, the building closed down at this late hour. It illuminated just the reward below and Lance paused, eyes drawn to that slim beam. He couldn’t help the smile that curled around his lips as he read out the amount, a little twisted swell of pride surfacing in his chest and knowing he was worth so much. He was reaching up to tear it down like the rest when he paused once again.

At the top was his alias, ‘Pike,’ spelled out in curling letters. He paused with his fingertips over it, slowly tracing the familiar and yet foreign shapes. It was the name ‘Pike.’ He knew that was the name on the posters, the name he’d carefully crafted to protect himself, the one the bounty hunters yelled at him when they thought he was caught. It was that name. His brows furrowed, crinkling together as he squeezed his eyes shut. Try as he might, he couldn’t summon up the letters for his name. His real name. He’d seen it written in his mother’s looping hand, written it himself with her hand over his to guide him. He’d tried. But all those letters, those symbols that signified him, were lost in the swirl of his thoughts, faded away. He grit his teeth, and closed his fist around the paper as he tore it down, letting it crumple in his hands. He stuffed the wad into his bag, taking a breath.

That was the last one, or at least the last he had found. He lingered a moment longer, eyes flitting over all the notices. He needed a quick job, one preferably on the outskirts of town. His gaze caught on a pamphlet asking for help with tearing down an old fence. He took it from the wall, stuffing it in his bag with the rest.

He spun then, scanning the streets carefully for any night watchmen. All was still. Letting out a yawn, Lance started to retrace his steps, eager for his warm bed beside Keith. It was then that he heard the footsteps behind him.

Lance spun again, claws out, his teeth bared just as a voice called, “Lance!”

He froze, staring in shock as Romelle stepped into the alley, walking quietly over to him.

“I-” Lance began, voice trailing off. “You- What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same question,” she replied, raising a slender brow. “Strange time for a visit to town.”

“I was just- taking a walk,” Lance finished lamely, mind reeling for a proper excuse.

“You like collecting papers?” Romelle asked, eyeing his bag.

Inwardly Lance cursed himself. How hadn’t he noticed her earlier? She must have hung far back. And in that case, maybe she’d been too far to see what was on the papers-

Lance reached into his bag, holding out the pamphlet he’d just taken. “Jobs,” he whispered. “I find some work while we travel and send money home to my family. I was just scouting around for some.”

Romelle hummed, thankfully seeming to accept that answer. “Why didn’t you just go with the others earlier? Or wait until tomorrow?”

“I stayed to help Hunk set up camp,” Lance replied, the lie slipping more smoothly off his tongue as he recovered from some of his earlier shock. “And I wanted to get the job finished first thing in the morning so we’d have the rest of the day to keep traveling.”

“I could’ve helped Hunk set up,” Romelle said.

“But you didn’t,” Lance replied, then paused to wince at his own words. “I didn’t mean that as an insult! You were just really distracted today, kind of wandering about.”

“Yes,” Romelle replied, her brows furrowing. “I apologize for that. I suppose it’s just- I haven’t been back home since the coupe. I-I don’t know how much it’s changed since then.”

Lance winced in sympathy. They were only a few days out from the Altean capital now.

Romelle let out a breathless laugh then. “It’s a terrible time for you and your friends to decide to visit, really. It’s usually lovely.”

Lance watched her for a moment. She didn’t seem to notice him then, her gaze far away. It was longing but there was also a bitterness to it, and something, deep behind the rest, that sent an involuntary chill down his spine. Lance found his throat suddenly dry, and he swallowed.

“Romelle, if-”

“Halt!”

The pair almost jumped out of their skins, shooting wide eyes to the mouth of the alleyway. Lance didn’t see anything there, and on instinct dived behind a few barrels, tucking himself close to the wall. Romelle joined him, the pair exchanging a worried look.

“I said halt!”

“Let go of me!”

Lance froze, the hair on the back of his neck sticking up.

“Rotten thief,” the first voice growled, deep and menacing. “Thought you could get away with it after dark?”

“Please sir, we haven’t had anything to eat in days!” This second voice was much younger, a child, and pitched with fear. “She’s sick, she’s-”

“I don’t care if a couple of street rats suffer,” the man sneered.

Lance clenched his teeth. Slowly, he peeked his head from beyond the barrel. He couldn’t see anything, the entrance to the alley still empty. The voices must be from just around the corner.

“But-”

“The law is the law. There are no special cases, and certainly not for a runt like you!”

Lance crept around the barrels, pressing himself flat to the wall and inching closer towards the unseen speakers.

“Please-!”

“Enough of your whining! You’re coming with me.”

“No!”

Lance had almost reached the edge when the sound of heavy footfalls picked up, accompanied by scuffing feet. He stayed perfectly still, watching through narrowed eyes as a pair of figures walked by the alley. One was dressed up in the chainmail of a guard, and the other was a little boy, his clothing torn and dirtied. As they passed the guard reached down and wrenched a loaf of bread from the boy’s hands, throwing it aside. It skidded across the dirt, stopping at Lance’s feet, concealed in the shadows.

Lance didn’t move, waiting until the voices had faded away. He let out a breath, relaxing his tensed muscles. Something hot was burning beneath his ribs, searing the skin with each jagged beat of his heart. “Romelle,” he hissed out. “We have to-”

He paused as he turned his head, finding his companion right there on the wall beside him. All it took was one glance at her expression for him to know that nothing more needed to be said. He nodded at her, before turning and dashing after the guard and his prisoner. He could hear her footfalls right behind him.

Keith awoke with a start, yet another dream of blue eyes and fire rousing him from his rest. He glanced desperately to the side, looking for comfort in Lance’s steady presence. The bedroll was empty.

Keith sat, instantly on edge, his eyes darting around. No Lance sitting by the last embers of the campfire, or leaning against a log, or pacing, or digging through their supplies for a late snack. Keith was instantly on his feet, his hand closing around his dagger. It took him a bit longer than perhaps it should have to notice the other missing person, his mind so preoccupied with the absence of Lance. Romelle was gone too, her bedroll similarly empty.

The realization hit Keith like a brick of lead. Lance and Romelle, missing. But then he shook himself, gritting his teeth. Maybe that wasn’t it. Romelle had been strange since they met her, shifty, dodging questions. Keith didn’t know what her plans were, but he knew she was hiding something. Maybe tonight was when she’d decided to act. He cursed himself quietly for letting his guard down, letting himself get distracted by-

His eyes flitted over to Lance’s empty bedroll, and that leaden feeling in his stomach solidified.

“Hunk!” Keith called out in a hushed tone, his eyes scanning the trees for any figures slinking in the shadows, any sign of an ambush about to break. “Pidge!”

He reached out, shaking Hunk’s shoulder. The other boy rolled over, blinking bleary eyes up at him. “Wha-”

“Keith?” Pidge murmured, sitting up and squinting at him through the dark. “What’re you-?”

“Lance and Romelle are gone,” Keith hissed.

“What?” Hunk asked, sitting up and blinking in sleepy confusion. “Where’d they go?”

“I don’t know!” Keith snapped, tone swaying towards urgency. “But they’re gone and we need to find them!”

“I don’t get it,” Pidge said, although she too now looked properly worried, quickly getting to her feet and hoisting up her ax. “Why would they just run off?”

“Maybe they just went somewhere to talk?” Hunk asked, rising up beside her.

Keith grit his teeth. “We can’t know that! What if something’s wrong. And besides, they shouldn’t be going out this time of night anyways! They wouldn’t be, Lance wouldn’t…” he trailed off, eyes moving back to the empty bedroll.

“Hey, we’re with you buddy,” Hunk murmured, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “If Lance has gotten himself into some trouble we’ll be there to get him out, okay?”

Keith took a breath, steeling himself before he nodded. He spun around, the others behind him. The three scoured the campsite, looking for some sign of where they’d gone.

“Over here!” Pidge called. The other two rushed over, Keith kneeling down beside her. In the mud was a single boot print, pointed away into the trees. “They headed towards town.”

Keith nodded briskly, setting off as the others scrambled to fall behind him.

“Guys,” Hunk spoke up nervously. “She’s a mercenary, right? You don’t suppose she saw a poster of him and-”

“If she’s done anything to him, she’ll regret it,” Keith growled darkly. He didn’t notice Hunk and Pidge sharing a worried look behind him.

Lance and Romelle tailed the guard through the empty streets as he dragged the boy along. Every now and then a quiet sniffle pierced the air, and Lance couldn’t help but wince. Still, they hung far back, watching from the shadows.

Eventually the pair reached what must have been the guard house, the door banging open loudly in the quiet night air. The child let out a yelp as he was wrenched through. Several greetings drifted out, along with bellowing laughter. Then the door slammed shut.

“There are a few of them,” Lance whispered to Romelle, peering at the building from around the corner they had stopped at. “At least three, maybe more?”

“Alright,” Romelle nodded, eyes steely. She took a determined step forward, hand reaching back to close around her bow.

“Woah, slow down there, hot shot!” Lance hissed, holding out an arm to block her path. “Going in bow’s blazing might just land us both in a cell alongside the kid! That weapon’s not gonna do you a lot of good in close combat.”

“Well, we must do something!” She hissed, leveling him with an impatient glare.

Lance held his hands up placatingly, “I’m just saying, this situation calls for a little more tact. Like not barging in the front door.”

Romelle sighed before lowering her bow. “Then what would you suggest?”

“Let’s go scout around. I can climb to the roof easily, so I’ll look for any ways in up there. You stick to the ground, see if there’s a window ajar, a back door, anything like that. Then, we regroup and come up with a plan.”

“Agreed,” Romelle nodded curtly. Then she took off towards the house in a sprint. If it were anyone else, Lance might’ve taken that moment to face palm. But despite moving at a dash, her footfalls were quick and light, barely making a sound on the cobblestones. Lance couldn’t help but think she’d make a great thief.

Her silver hair caught in the moonlight for a brief moment, then the shadows of the guard house swallowed her. Lance took a breath. Then he followed.

The climb was easy. He could feel a slight pull from the old burn on his back, but the healing magic had done its work. He pulled himself effortlessly onto the roof, keeping low just in case anyone decided to glance out a neighboring window.

There were no skylights in the building, so next he kneeled at the edge, lowering his head over the side to inspect the second story windows. He cursed as moonlight glinted off metal bars, secured over every single one. Apparently these guards were so tough they didn’t want to risk little boys escaping.

Lance sat back, letting out a huff. If they even had bars on the second story windows, then Romelle likely wasn’t having much luck below. Still, if they just had a back door, maybe he could pick the lock-

Lance’s eyes caught on the chimney. No. Oh no. He glanced above it, almost hoping to see smoke curling upwards that would rule it out as an option. But the stack of bricks was cold and still. He let out a sigh. Who knows? Maybe the guards had neglected to put bars on one of the first story windows. Or left a door propped wide open for them, with a sign that said ‘Come on in!’ With a flick of desperate hope in his chest, he swung himself over the edge.

Romelle was around the back, frowning at a door. A door! Lance practically skipped over to her. She was holding an arrow awkwardly in her hand, as if contemplating trying to pick the lock with it. A big grin split across Lance’s face, and he was just about to say something cocky like, ‘Let the master handle it,’ when the moonlight glinted off something shiny. His jaw dropped. Bars. Who put bars on a door? They weren’t even moveable. No hinges, no way to raise them from the outside. And no locks to pick.

Lance deflated. “I take it no luck down here, huh?”

“Not so much,” Romelle sighed, glancing over to him. “How about the roof?”

“Yeah,” Lance grumbled, “I found something.”

He paused then, glancing around. Romelle didn’t have claws to scale the wall like he did, so how was she gonna get up there? Maybe if they found a few crates or something, and they stacked them on top of each other. He started glancing around for anything usable, opening his mouth to inform Romelle of the plan.

He didn’t get the chance. A sudden rush of wind rose up, nearly blowing him off his feet. His eyes shut against the onslaught, teeth grit as he struggled to stay upright. Just as suddenly as it had come, it died down again. Lance squinted his eyes open, then did a double take when he saw that Romelle had disappeared. He spun around, scanning the shadows for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Just then something small bounced off the top of his head. He jumped back, bearing his teeth at the pebble that rolled harmlessly away. Then he whipped his head up, eyes widening as he caught sight of Romelle frowning down at him, gesturing for him to join her.

Of course! He’d seen her wind magic the day she’d saved them from those bandits. He sunk his claws into the cracks in the stone, quickly scrambling up after her. When he reached the top she was standing there, hands on her hips, eyeing the roof with a perplexed crinkle in her delicate brows. Her hair was like a beacon in the moonlight, and Lance cursed quietly as he grabbed her shoulder and yanked her down.

“Hey!” Romelle hissed, leveling him with a glare.

“Keep low!” Lance whispered back. “If someone looks out a window, they’ll spot you!”

Romelle’s expression relaxed then, her eyes sweeping around to take in the other buildings surrounding them. “Where is this entrance you found?”

Lance sighed. “It’s there,” he admitted reluctantly, gesturing to the stacked bricks.

Romelle’s eyebrows rose. “You want us to go down the chimney?”

“I’m sure you already noticed there are bars on all the windows,” he retorted. “So unless your fancy breezy powers can melt metal, I don’t think we have a choice.”

Romelle stared at the chimney a moment, dubious. Then a flash of determination crossed her face. In one practiced motion she tied her cascade of silver hair up, binding it with a gilded cord from her wrist. She turned to him, her expression firm. “Shall we?”

Without waiting for an answer she crossed to the chimney, pulled herself up, and slid inside. A puff of ash flew up from where she disappeared, and Lance felt his fur stand on end at the sight. He let out one last sigh, grit his teeth, and crawled in after her.

As they were marching through the forest, Keith was struck by the realization that he wanted Lance to be in trouble. The thought immediately filled him with guilt. He never wanted Lance to be hurt. He would do anything to protect him. But the thought of rounding a tree to find Lance and Romelle in the moonlight, wrapped in each others’ arms-

He shook himself. As terrible as it was, he wanted Lance to be in peril. He wanted Lance to need help. His help. And if Romelle was the cause of that, then he wouldn’t need to worry about her and Lance getting together anymore, either. And he wasn’t going to spend any more time thinking about just why that bothered him so much.

The town came into view up ahead, forest slowly giving way to neat, picturesque buildings. Every village in Altea seemed to leap straight from the pages of a story book, meant to soothe small children to sleep. There was something unsettling about it.

“Keith,” Pidge whispered though the darkness, practically having to jog to keep up with his quick pace. “We don’t even know if they came this far. There hasn’t been any other sign of them since that footprint back at camp.”

“Where else would they have gone?” Keith hissed. He pushed away the thought of Lance and Romelle, curled up together in some hollow of the forest. No. If there was trouble, they would have come here. They must have.

He whirled to face the others suddenly. “We should split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Okay,” Hunk nodded, a worried crease to his brow. “The town’s not that big, so let's meet back here after we’ve found them.”

“Or once we’ve checked everywhere and realized they’re probably back at camp, warm and cozy,” Pidge grumbled. Despite her words, Keith could see the uneasy glint in her eye.

Keith glanced away, worrying at his lip with his teeth. A fang snagged on the skin, and he could faintly taste blood.

A hand landed on his shoulder then, and he turned to find Hunk giving him a reassuring smile. “We’ll find them. And I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.”

Keith let out a breath, giving him a curt nod. Then he turned, hurrying down a dark street. His hand closed around the hilt of his dagger, knuckles turning white from the pressure. If she had hurt a hair on Lance’s head, she would pay.

Lance held his breath, feeling the smear of soot on his clothes, against his skin, between his fur. It felt like it was in his pores, seeping into every corner of his being. Then, mercifully, the world opened up around him. He tumbled from the empty hearth, just managing to catch himself before his face slammed into the floor. He glanced up, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of a pair of piercing blue eyes in the darkness. Then the figure shifted and Lance could just make out the outline of Romelle, his night vision just barely able to differentiate her from the shadows with her coating of dust. Her light hair was almost black now, those eyes seeming to be the only thing that escaped their ashy fate.

It took him a moment to realize she was holding out a hand to him, and he took it gratefully. On his feet, he scanned their surroundings. The second floor appeared to be a bunk house, several beds against the wall, some trunks, an old bureau, and a wood stove with a kettle on it, as cold and still as the fireplace they’d just exited.

A few weak beams of light shone up from a staircase in the far corner, and muffled laughter could be heard from below, likely behind a thick door. Lance took in a breath, then immediately had to double over and cough as the ash filled his lungs. He choked on the air, trying to keep quiet and still manage to breathe at the same time.

His watery gaze landed on a wash basin on the bureau, a cloth thrown haphazardly next to it. He lunged for, dousing the cloth in water and quickly wiping off his face. Clean air filled his lungs as the water in the basin stained black, and Lance sucked in greedy lungfuls.

“There will be time to clean up later,” Romelle chided, frowning disapprovingly from where she was already standing by the staircase.

“Excuse me if I felt the need to breathe,” Lance retorted, tossing the wash cloth back into the now filthy water. Nevertheless, he joined her at the stairs, the pair exchanging a glance before they began to creep down. A step creaked under Lance’s foot and they both froze, Lance wincing. But the muffled laughter and chatter continued, so after a moment they resumed their descent.

Sure enough, a door separated them and the guards. Lance pressed his ear against it. Romelle might be able to scale walls well enough with her wind abilities, but they’d hardly help her in eavesdropping. He could make out about three voices, confirming his earlier guess. And softly, beneath the boisterous clammer, the sniffles of a child.

Leaning back, he fixed his gaze on his companion. “There’s three of them,” he whispered. “The kid’s in the room with them, likely in a cell.”

Romelle’s eyes narrowed, hand flying back to close around her bow.

“Wait!” Lance hissed. “Plan time! We can take out two of them simultaneously, but that still leaves the problem of the third. We gotta do this quietly, or else we’ll wake up half the town. I counted six beds up there, which means there’s another three guards probably out patrolling right now.”

Lance was pleased to see that Romelle looked slightly impressed. He might not have been able to show off his lock picking skills, but he still had this. Lance McClain, expert infiltrator, master of stealth, man of mystery. His mind flitted to Keith, picturing the way the other boy would roll his eyes at those words. He’d purse his lips, trying and failing to hide the slight smile that would spread across them, warm like the first soft rays of dawn.

Lance shook himself. Focus. They needed to figure out what to do about the third guard.

“I can distract the other one,” Romelle whispered, as if reading his thoughts.

Lance caught her gaze, puzzled. “I don’t think much is going to keep his attention when we pounce on his two buddies.”

A dark look flashed across Romelle’s face. Like a shadow over the moon, leaving the world cold. Lance couldn’t help but shiver at the ice in her eyes. “Trust me,” she murmured. “You must be ready to act. As soon as you have knocked out your first guard, take down the next. Be swift.”

She held his gaze, and Lance nodded, although he couldn’t help the concern creeping up inside of him. He turned away, eyeing the sliver of light peeking through the door frame.

“I’m going to crack open the door and take a look at the room,” he murmured. “Be ready to act in case they notice.”

Romelle gave him a firm nod, bracing herself. She grasped her bow in both hands, the arrows left in their quiver. Lance took a breath. Then, ever so slowly, he pushed at the door. It inched open, bit by bit, the voices louder now that the barrier between them was less solid. Finally, once he deemed the opening just enough to see though, he leaned towards the light, squinting his eye.

The room was about what he expected. Small, with just a couple of cells. There was a table pushed against the front wall, near a door that must be the one he’d seen the guard enter. Three men sat around said table, half their armor still on them with the other half discarded around the floor. They each held a fan of cards, and were talking animatedly, jeering and boasting. Between them the table was piled high with food: bread, fruits, cheese, and even a steaming haunch of meat. Behind all this, in the far cell, the little boy was curled up in a corner. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, his face buried in them. Lance could see him trembling slightly.

He drew back, carefully letting the door shut. Catching Romelle’s gaze, he quickly relayed the layout of the room to her.

“I shall take the right one,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “You take the left guard. Just be ready to move to the last one. I’ll keep him down for you.”

Lance quirked a brow, not quite sure what she was planning. But her gaze was set, the sky blue of her eyes frozen over. Now was the time to act.

“On my count,” he whispered, bracing himself with his shoulder against the door. Romelle nodded, fingers clenching around her bow. “One,” Lance breathed, claws flexing. “Two.” He tensed. “Three.”