Chapter Text
Lance was scared. That was simply a state of being amongst the stars he’d once so desperately wanted to see for himself. He was fighting for his life every day, placing himself in harm’s way for a war he hadn’t even known existed for the overwhelming majority of his life. This fear, however, was not something had expected. It had crept up on him with the lithe grace of a predator ready to strike, until there were teeth sunk hard and fast into the back of his neck and he was choking on his own blood. Of course it would, because Lance had come to fear the lions. His lion.
Blue had chosen her paladin with caution. Her boy, her precious cub was someone she chose with deliberate care. He loved the ocean and the rain, the water that nourished them both. He was so kind and good and loving, but she knew he had potential as more. Her paladin could blossom into a warrior no less impressive then the lion he fought with, and she delicately let herself nestle deep within his mind with a bond that was indestructible. Blue had chosen wisely, she was sure. This new paladin was fit for their purpose.
It wasn’t that he thought they would hurt him, because they wouldn’t. Blue loved him so much and her fierce and icy torrent of devotion was never too far, throbbing insistently in the back of his mind. It was nothing as obvious and simple as that, that someday they would pounce and Lance would be suffocated as their power seized the very breath from his lungs. He’d first noticed it in their battles, or rather the aftermath. Lance was not idle, not when it mattered and there was work to be done. He fought tooth and nail to be where he was, but he also wasn’t too proud to say he needed a break. Yet, when they all sat down and began to discuss their next course of action, Lance somehow found a sinuous trickle of verve slowly coming back to him, that had him raising a hand in favor of finding another distress signal to answer. He sat in his room after that next battle, staring at his purpled hand with two of his fingers taped together from where they’d gotten crushed. He’d declined the use of the pods. He just couldn’t stand to be in there another second, with both Hunk and Keith watching from their places locked away behind the glass of the pods.
Why had his own hand betrayed him, had him advocating for something they weren’t ready for? It didn’t sit well with him but then there was a low purr in the back of his head that had him smiling fondly and going to Blue’s hangar to clean her up after the battle. Everyone would be fine, it didn’t matter. They always knew it would be dangerous, after all.
Blue was willing to give everything to her paladin to win. To defeat the sort of evil Voltron had been created to defeat. She breathed life and energy back into him when he was low on both, because she cared. She only wanted her paladin to be his best, and to make the universe the best it could be. Blue would never hurt her greatest treasure, her cub.
Of course, there came attacks. When they infiltrated ships there was not always just robots they had to take apart, in lethal beams of light that illuminated enemy territory for a scarce few moments before hitting their marks. They were against an empire rooted within their people, and there was always at least a few soldiers offering themselves up to fight for the sake of its rule. They tried to stun, rather than kill. From what Voltron could discern, most Galra had no real idea of what was so wrong with their beloved emperor and what he’d created. Recently though, they’d stopped caring so much.
Keith blade would make a deadly arc before it sliced open the victim beneath him with a spray of red against the nearby wall. Shiro’s hand left the sizzling, acrid smell of burnt flesh in the air when he drew it out of his victims, and he cleaned it later with a mere rag in the castle’s kitchen. Lance knew that was wrong. He did, he was fully aware that his friends were not meant to be murderers. They should not enjoy the kill, so why did he see that cruel, feral gleam in Pidge’s eye as she hacked her opponent to bits in deft stabs of her bayard? He was far from innocent too, because Lance couldn’t explain it.
Staring down at a man he’d already incapacitated with a warning shot, he would tell himself to walk away. He knew very well that his work was done, but suddenly there was a roar that screamed righteousness and then his blaster was hot under his hands and there was blood on the floor. It left Lance shaking, hunched over the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach, because he just couldn't find it within him to be properly horrified. Why was that morality slipping away? He hated it, but Blue was always waiting where he turned, whispering validation of their crimes. Their kills were wicked, they couldn’t be reasoned with. Voltron was good and the Galra were bad so the herd had to be culled. It was the only way, she promised as Lance felt guilt so vast within him he could feel nothing else at all, and his stomach ached so badly he couldn’t sleep.
He’d looked his kills in the face so many times, seeing the innate panic in their eyes as they told him in cracked, gravelly voices that they only wished to be spared, for mercy. So many mislead soldiers already immobilized, so they could not even attempt to fight back against Lance. How could each and every one be a monster? Lance was sick with the savagery of it all, but then he was lulled into a calm by the sound of oceans rhythmically crashing against their shores. The oceans washed everything away, until Lance no longer could find it within himself to care.
Blue hated when her paladin was in distress. He was doing so well, hunting down the prey he had to. He was cleansing the universe, one ugly runt at a time. Lions did that. If a cub was born to another, if it was too sickly, too other, the pride would see it killed. Lance was doing no more than that. Her cub was the stronger one, and so he thrived. It was not so horrible to enjoy seeing a wrong righted, and if she had anything to do with that enjoyment it wasn’t a bad thing. Above all, she was the lioness. She made the world go round, and nothing happened that she did not want. It wasn’t safe to think of the Galra, the empire’s Galra, as friends. She plucked that feeling from his mind the minute she saw it, to keep her cub safe. To keep all that she fought to protect safe. She did it because she loved him.
Lance really and truly realized it was wrong when he stared a Galra in the face, his back to a child behind him. He pulled the trigger, and a burning blast of light came from his gun, burning a hole through the Galra’s calf. He collapsed with an agonized shout, and again Lance felt his bayard burn under his palms, ready to end it. The enemy’s weapon was out of his reach, and Lance gave it a kick for good measure. The soldier stared at him in fear, pure unadulterated terror that Lance somehow could ignore because there was a growling at his mind, an edge that that terrified him but he didn’t have the will to ignore. What Lance wasn’t expecting was for that soldier to plead with him.
“Paladin, please, I have a family. I want to go home to them. I’ll do whatever it takes.” Lance heard the child behind him whimper. Lance knew he didn’t want to shoot. Whoever was in front of him didn’t deserve it, not truly. He was only a foot soldier with no say in what the empire did. His hand shook painfully from the effort to let his gun fall, but it seemed as though every muscle in his hand was locked in position and he had no more success than if he’d tried to bend stone. Lance tried. Any spec of rebellion would’ve released the hold, but it held on with such iron authority he couldn’t even make a dent in it. To even twist his wrist or make his pinky twitch would’ve been enough. Alas, all Lance could do was to stay put while being struck with a vision of yellow eyes. It was a gaze so wise and ancient he could not possibly fathom it, goading him along in nudges of frigid paws and a low purr. Lance shook his head, shaking with effort. The beast was stronger. Lance’s finger pushed back on the trigger and tears so cold they burned fell and froze on Lance’s cheeks.
Blue was growing frustrated with her cub. Why did he not kill them? He needed to wrap what jaws he had around their necks so they could be crushed and maimed and devoured without even bothering to spit the bones back out. He was feeling merciful, but Blue knew better. She knew what the creature in front of him deserved. She stood over her paladin, overpowered him in a manner similar to a mother keeping her child safe from a task he could not handle. She pushed and pushed until she felt his mind ease and break under the strain of her prowess, and then her work was done.
Lance ran far away from Blue that night. He curled up in a corner of the castle he’d never even been in before, wrapped in blankets and layers that he desperately needed to thaw the core of him. He felt as though there were icy claws puncturing holes into his heart, freezing it over under its touch. Every breath felt as though it was wrenched from his lips, a porcelain cloud of air coaxed forth despite the fact that Lance should’ve been sweating bullets. He shook, and even knowing he was safe he envisioned his fingertips encased in frost. It was just so cold, and he couldn’t get warm again.
Lance began to avoid Blue. He’d do anything to keep away from her, from how she loved him so much it hurt. He wouldn’t do infiltration missions. He couldn’t stand to see the look on his teammates face, his own face as he slaughtered countless soldiers that were mindlessly pressed into their work. He was terrified. He had to break the bond, he had to keep everyone safe. The lions meant well, they did, but they were warriors, defenders. They were not human, but they had jurisdiction over them Lance hadn’t previously known. That sparked fear, instinctive and primitive within him, because he had never wanted to be slave to something so wild. He had never wanted any of this. He frantically made attempt to hide his fears, absolutely petrified to think that Blue would find out and would stop him. It wasn’t enough.
Blue didn’t understand why her paladin was pulling away, hastily putting walls up that she couldn’t see over. What was he hiding? It simply didn’t make sense. Regardless, she would not stand for it. There was to be nothing to hide between lion and paladin. She clawed incessantly at the walls, claws and teeth on the barrier that at first, held strong. However, Blue did not relent. She was above the menial tasks of sleeping and rest, times to clear the mind. Her cub was not. He wore himself out, pinched his skin and guzzled energy drinks and kept himself moving so he wouldn’t fall asleep. He endeavored to stop her from getting in but he was only human, and as he collapsed on the floor during training with the red paladin the walls he so diligently maintained might as well have been paper for all their effectiveness. Blue broke through.
Lance woke in his bed. He felt so much better than he had in such a long time. Time that was spent doing everything to keep his mind safe. The thought woke him up, manically slamming up the same guards he’d erected before. This time, however, there was a tail in the door. Lance doubled over, a short sob shattering the silence of his room.
Blue was wounded, immeasurably so when she found out. She wailed through the bond with her sisters, that her paladin feared her. Feared all of them. He wanted to sever the bond, but that only made Blue latch on tighter. No, he couldn’t. She was his and he was hers, her paladin. Nothing would ever change that, not even her cub himself.
As a result she was already listening, attention rapt, when he woke. Of course she first checked him over for harm. He was so foolish, so stupid for resisting. She’d gotten in anyways, why had he gone out of his way to do something that might get him hurt? It didn’t make sense, but she didn’t tell him that. When he tried to block her advances again, there was another wave of hurt. Why was he doing that? Why didn’t he trust her? There was no choice but to speak with him, and so she seeped into him. She took the body of her paladin, her vessel. She walked him to her hangar, despite how he panicked and thrashed in his own mind. He wanted out, but she murmured sweet nothings to him in reply. She assured him that all was well. He understood that, physically at least, she would never hurt him. It was okay. Her cub whimpered.
She finally relinquished her hold, and immediately he scrambled back, trying to exit. She stopped that quickly. It would do no good. She could reach him anywhere, just as a lion of Voltron should be able. He at least stopped fighting her there, his body gone pliant despite the trembling that racked his svelte form.
“Blue, please,” he pleaded with her. “This is wrong. Please, just let me do what I want. I won’t leave Voltron, but these people don’t deserve to die. Voltron doesn’t always come first. It’s not as simple as black and white. I’m begging you, let me go.” Blue merely shook her head. Her poor, ignorant paladin. There were shades of grey, but this fight did not have any. She wondered why he had wanted to break the bond, and Lance lifted his head to respond. Blue didn’t relay to him that he could see his chin quivering as he raised it in defiance.
“You’re scaring me, Blue. Controlling me. It shouldn’t work like that. I can’t work like that. If that doesn’t stop, I have no choice.” Again, Blue was upset, but she couldn’t stop. Not until he’d kill. Not until he would make things right. Lance shouted, his voice tremulous and frail in the space of the room while his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“I won’t! I won’t kill them, and I won’t always fight. There are limits, Blue. I’m not like you. I’m human.” Blue felt a stab of alarm, but then she understood. Her sisters’ paladins were able to submit, however unwittingly, to become pawns. Hers would not, and that was okay. He could be kept safe until he gave in too. The bond between lion and paladin was unbreakable and her cub would not change that. Blue sent herself forward, into his body. He screamed, though it was silent. She had complete and utter sovereignty. When paladins were unruly, a lion’s sense of justice could tame them. His lips were sealed, his limbs given to her, and slowly Blue corralled him into what would become his cage, a place for pets who wouldn’t be obedient. She pushed him back until the gears and mechanics she’d inhabited for so long were not the only body she possessed. All his talent and skill at her disposal, ready to fight the mission he’d begun to deviate from. That was alright. They’d fix it in time, and Lance could come back to himself when Blue saw that he was ready. All would be well then. For now, while Lance sobbed from inside his own head, Blue straightened up and arranged his lips into a smile.
She knew she’d chosen wisely. This paladin could not resist her. Hers never could, and that was just as it should be.