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Lance first met Keith at a coronation party in the land of Arus at the tender age of five years old. There was lots of dancing to do, and lots of people to meet, and a lot of pretty princes and princesses to smile at, but no one had caught Lance’s attention quite like Keith did. When being introduced to the royal family of the Galra Empire, Lance had politely shaken the prince’s hand - Lotor, who was missing two front teeth and had an awkward smile on his face - and then turned to the moping six year old who was preoccupied with eyeing the knife in his hands.
“Hello! I’m Lance, of the Altean Kingdom.” he introduced himself. His older sister, Allura, had been giving him her big “O” eyes, the ones she made when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, except Lance wasn’t sure why he wasn’t supposed to introduce himself to the boy hiding half-behind his father. He was nudged towards Lance out of his hiding spot, taking Lance’s offered palm and placing a kiss on the back of his hand. It wasn’t as though people hadn’t greeted Lance like that before, but he hadn’t been expecting it, and so he felt he couldn’t be blamed for the coloring in his face and the rabbity pace of his heart.
“Pleasure to meet you, your highness.” and then that was all he offered to Lance, who stood there looking puzzled and enamored until Allura pulled him away so he could introduce himself to others.
“You don’t want to associate yourself with bastard children, Lance,” she hissed into his ear, and he grimaced, leaning away from her in disgruntlement.
“Why? He seems nice.” That was enough of a reason to associate with him to Lance, but Allura still seemed displeased, face pinched and carefully scratching at her head behind her tiara.
“I’m sure he’s nice. That doesn’t mean you can afford to associate with him.”
The next time Lance met Keith, he decided that he didn’t care whether he was supposed to fraternize with him or not. Keith had seemed nice, and Lance technically was supposed to get everything he wanted, right? Altea was unique in the way that Queens ruled the kingdom, which meant that when Allura became of age and got married their father Alfor - the regent - was going to have to relinquish his reign of the throne to her. This also meant that Lance would not get to rule, but that was fine with Lance, as long as he still got to live in the castle and he still got the be pampered every morning. He knew he was spoiled, which was why during a ball in search for a suitor for Allura, Lance decided that going to talk to Keith, who was standing by the food table but just far enough away where he could avoid people, was the best course of action. Thirteen year old Lance was hardly abashed, sidling his way up to Keith with an offering of the fresh fruit at the table, sly smile on his face. Keith stared back at him with yellow eyes, eyebrow rising as Lance gestured for him to take some fruit. And so Keith did, plucking a piece of pink fruit from the tray.
“Thank you, your highness.” he gave a small bow before placing the fruit in his mouth. Lance promptly rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall next to Keith.
“You know you can just call me by my name. It’s not a big deal.”
“Prince Lance, then,” Keith insisted. Lance heaved a huge sigh, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth, proceeding to talk with his mouth full.
“Just Lance is fine. You’re a royal too, you know. You never properly introduced yourself to me, by the way,” Lance could tell that maybe he wasn’t getting on Keith’s good side, so he added, “I know your name anyways but it’s still kind of rude.”
Keith stared - Lance thought that was probably his thing, considering he seemed to do it a lot every time Lance saw him.
“Anyways, want to see something cool?” Lance set the plate of fruit aside, pushing himself from the wall and turning to look at Keith, who was glancing at where his brother and father were talking to some diplomats of a neighboring country.
“I don’t know…” Keith trailed off, ears folding back on his head as he fidgeted in anxiety. Lance followed his gaze for a moment before humming and grabbing his hands, tugging him out of the ballroom and down the corridor. Their steps were muted until they were far enough away from the music and chatter, but once they were the sound of their shoes against the stone echoed off the floor and walls. Keith glanced around curiously, never having been outside the entrance way and ballroom, taking in the tall stone archways, the marble fountain, the statues. Everything seemed to be lit up, in contrast to the Galra Empire, where they kept lighting dim due to their races’ sensitive eyesight.
“This way!” Lance’s gait stopped to wind around one of the statues placed against the wall, pushing the panel there in and releasing Keith’s hand to crawl inside.
“Where are you going?” Keith hissed, and Lance shushed him, motioning for him to follow.
“Get your butt in here! They’re not going to notice we’re gone, they’re too focused on wooing my sister.” He continued to motion Keith inside the crawl space, and Keith begrudgingly followed, his eyes adjusting to the dark as the entrance closed behind him. Lance continued down the tight space until it widened enough for the to walk again, and then took Keith’s hand and continued to lead him to only god knew where.
“Lance, we really shouldn’t leave the party for so long-” Lance groaned, stopping abruptly and not responding when Keith ran into his side, turning to look at Keith with his eyes narrowed and feather-white hair framing his very annoyed expression.
“Listen, Keith,” it was obviously and order, and so Keith complied as Lance continued without leaving room for any rebuttal, “Hearing the same stuffy guys try to make the same case for my sister to marry them over and over again gets really exhausting, especially when they try to use me as a pawn piece. So I’d really rather avoid the whole thing, if that’s alright with you. If you want I’ll take the blame for you leaving, if you’re going to get in trouble. But don’t you want to see something cool? ”
Keith wasn’t sure how cool this thing could be, considering how dark and dank it was in whatever corridor Lance had led him into. Nonetheless, he sighed, “Fine.”
The walk was quiet, and after a good five minutes where Keith was continually growing more and more anxious at what the response to his absence would be, Lance finally pushed open a door to what appeared to be the edge of the woods outside the castle. His hand was freed then as Lance ran along the treeline down to the lake, hollering as he ran through the tall grass, his steps appearing to kick fireflies up into the air after him. Keith glanced around, hearing the howl of some native wolf creature in the trees and booking it towards Lance. The fireflies illuminated his way, and he felt the tension drain out of his shoulders as he watched Lance make himself comfortable in a pile of tall grass. When he finally came up on the prince he just looked down at him, studying him as he lie there in the grass, serene with his eyes closed and a firefly beating its wings as it rested on his nose. Keith carefully settled down in the grass next to him, lying down, ears twitching as the grass brushed against them.
“Keith, can I ask you a question?” It was the first time Keith had heard Lance so quiet, so even though he wanted to say no out of reflex he agreed.
“Yes.”
When Keith said nothing else, Lance went on. “My sister called you a bastard. Is that true?”
The tension was back in the air, fireflies buzzing away and filling Keith’s vision in a contrast to his tumultuous emotions. “My mother is Zarkon’s mistress. So yes.” Keith prayed that would be enough, but Lance’s humming made it seem as though he was going to continue to pry. Keith hoped he wouldn’t.
“So you won’t get to take control of the throne when you turn of age or when your father dies. Or both, I suppose…”
Keith hesitated again, before only grunting in affirmation this time. Lance turned onto his side, arm tucked under his head as he watched Keith stare up into the sky. “I won’t get to rule a kingdom either, I guess we’re alike in that way.” he sighed. Then, as if unperturbed, he crawled through the grass and began to pick at the wildflowers, bunching them together and humming to himself. Keith remembers having heard it in the ballroom earlier, and wondered if it was significant in any way. He watched Lance’s silhouette out of the corner of his eye, the gentle buzz and light coming from the bugs making him tired, eyelids drooping.
“Keith, wake up!”
Keith hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. He groaned and let his eyes flutter open, seeing Lance leaning over him with his bright blue eyes wide. He offered a hand out, and Keith took it, letting Lance pull him to his feet and brushing grass off of his clothes. It was then that he noticed the flower crown in Lance’s hands, blinking incredulously when Lance placed it on his head, circling his ears.
“Hm? What’s this for?” he gingerly touched the petals circling his head, eyes going upwards as if he were going to be able to see it on his own head.
“Since you don’t get your own crown I figured I’d make you one. Come on, we should probably head back.” and then Lance was off, as if he hadn’t just made butterflies swoop low in Keith’s stomach. Keith stared after him for a moment, until Lance was turning to yell at him to hurry up, and then followed.
No one had noticed they’d left.
The next time Keith saw Lance it was during Allura’s coronation. During the ceremony it was hard to take his eyes off of Allura, whose gold glittering dress made it seem like she was floating as she made her way across the throne room. She looked like something out of a religious painting, dark skin radiant and dress glowing, the Altean markings on her face bringing attention to her bright eyes. Keith felt like he was looking at an angel as he watched her.
Lance was standing on the other side of the room, beaming as he looked at his sister with blatant adoration in his eyes. Keith decided that he was beautiful, too.
Lance’s arrival in the Galra Empire as a member of the royal court was a big ordeal, but ever since Lance had moved into the castle Keith had hardly run into him. The castle was big, sure, but Keith had expected to see more of him, so it was with surprise that he quite literally ran into Lance during a light-night walk through the castle. They bumped shoulders when rounding a corner, the shriek coming out of Lance sounding like he was from another planet as he jumped back in fear, clutching at his heart. Keith sputtered, taking a backstep and sweeping into a low bow.
“I apologize for scaring you, your highness.”
“Oh, would you stop with that? I’m a member of your court now. If anything that’s how I should be addressing you.” Lance waved him off, and Keith felt his face flush with heat. It must have been apparent that he was ruffled, because then Lance was draping an arm over his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Sooooo,” he drawled, “Got any secret passageways we can crawl through? Somewhere we can be alone?” Keith tensed up, swiftly stepping away from Lance’s side.
“I hardly think that’s appropriate.” he sputtered, trying to reign in his heartbeat from where it was attempting to run away. Lance was pouting, which took an infinite amount of pressure away. “Start calling me your highness and maybe I’ll think about it.” he stated flippantly, and Lance’s skin turned a deep shade of crimson as Keith turned on his heel and strolled down the hallway.
“If you're into that!” Lance called after him belatedly.
Lance wasn’t entirely sure how that changed things but it had, their tentative friendship turning into some kind of odd flirtationship that quickly spread rumors throughout the court. He imagined Allura would probably be concerned, but at seventeen Lance was hardly concerned; after all, all the rules stated was that he had to get married to inherit his own land, it didn’t say to whom or when. And to be quite fair, Lance flirted with everyone in the court, the image of flattery and seduction every step he took.
Every chance he got he addressed Keith as “your highness”, and he got a kick out of it every time Keith’s ears would twitch and he’d fight back a smile of satisfaction before nodding in greeting or firing back some witty response. It became a game, almost. A game that Lance found himself diving into head first. He didn’t think much of it in the beginning, but then he realized he was actively seeking Keith out so that he could talk to him. Court meetings made him particularly flustered, because Keith seemed to know that he had an effect on Lance and would stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, fingers brushing but not taking hold. It was maddening, and after dealing with it what felt like forever (but was perhaps only about a month and a half) he knew he had to confront Keith about it.
Trapping Keith outside of his quarters was probably not his most tactful plan to date, but then again neither of them had ever been particularly tactful . He interjected just as Keith was about to leave for a hunt, making him jump at Lance’s sudden presence in front of him.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question before you leave, your highness?” The difference between this exchange and their exchanges before was that Lance actually sounded genuinely nervous, and Keith’s ears folded back in worry.
“Of course not.”
Lance took a deep breath, moving out of Keith’s way so that they could both walk, more to release his built up anxiety than out of consideration for Keith, who was running late. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a picnic with me this Saturday afternoon.”
Keith stopped walking, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at Lance with his head tilted to the side. “That sounds nice. I’d love to.”
It felt anticlimactic to Lance, who had been worrying for the past week whether he should ask or not. Did Keith not get his question? Maybe he didn’t get the context in which Lance was asking. “I mean, as in…” He cleared his throat, “A courtship… type deal… uhm…” Eloquent, Lance.
Keith smiled at him, and Lance felt his breath catch in his throat, his world going topsy-turvy as he was knocked off his axis. “Yes, I know. I’d love to. See you then.” As if unaffected he grabbed Lance’s hand and gave it a light squeeze before wandering off doing an adjacent corridor, leaving Lance with crimson skin and a smile spread across his face.
The upside to being royalty, Lance knew, was that he quite literally got anything he wanted on a silver platter. However, Lance didn’t want a silver platter and so it was with much frantic panicking that he switched it out for a typical picnic basket, running out to the courtyard to find Keith waiting for him, a picnic blanket laid out underneath him and picking at the grass. Keith’s ears perked up, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as Lance approached and sat on the blanket beside him.
The picnics following all started similar, and all ended with either of them departing ways. After attempting to branch out and actually go somewhere they realized they weren’t allowed to do that by themselves (or well, Lance wasn’t) and so they’d quickly reverted back to their weekly picnics.
Until one day it was one of the ladies in waiting’s birthday, and their picnic had to be postponed in favor of setting up the party in the garden. Lance had pouted all morning because of it, standing on the balcony overlooking the fountain and watching the servants set everything up. Prince Lotor seemed to be handling the arrangements with a sense of frantic tension, his expression going soft when he groaned and released his head back and caught sight of Lance. He twiddled his fingers and Lance waved back, resting his elbows on the railing.
“Oh, Lance.” he straightened in interest, eyes moving from one end of the garden to the other to see Keith looking up at him, gesturing to get his attention. “I have something for you. Come down.” Lance felt a smile tug at his lips.
“Just a minute!” he pushed himself from the railing, trying not to appear too excited as he walked down the corridor, spying himself in a shining gold vase and making sure he looked okay before walking down the winding staircase. He stepped out into the garden in anticipation, narrowly avoiding a maid with an armful of flower arrangements and apologizing profusely when he knocked her off-kilter. He took a deep breath as she giggled and wandered away, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to collect himself when a pair of clawed hands covered his eyes. He jumped slightly, but only slightly.
“Keep your eyes closed, okay?” Keith whispered into his ear, and Lance felt a chill run up and down his spine in response.
“You might need a blindfold for that,” he muttered, and he could feel Keith’s sputtering laughter on his neck.
“When we’re alone,” he promised, “For now just keep them closed.”
Lance nodded his head, keeping his eyes closed as requested as Keith’s hands moved from his face. He could feel something placed on his head, and his eyes opened as he reached up to touch whatever had been set there. His fingers brushed over the gentle petals as he turned to face Keith, blinking owlishly as he removed the blue flower crown from his head so that he could see it. He remembered making Keith a flower crown the second time they had met, but he didn’t think Keith remembered. Or perhaps he hadn’t and it was simply a coincidence.
“The roses are bioluminescent. I thought it fit you-,” Keith’s ears folded back in embarrassment, and he suddenly began to stutter, flustered by his own thoughts, “Since you uhm-... you really helped me. Like… quiznak this is corny… like those fireflies, when we snuck out once, lighting the way. Uh-.” he took a deep breath, backstepping and glancing down at his shoes. Lance could feel his face flush, stomach swarming with butterflies as he placed the crown back on his head and grinned. Keith’s anxiety visually quelled when Lance rested a hand against his cheek, placing a kiss to his lips right there in the courtyard in front of all of the servants and Prince Lotor - all of whom were preoccupied or being too respectful to react, though it couldn’t have been much of a surprise.
“I love it,” Lance whispered.
“I love you.”
My dearest brother,
Reading your last letter warmed my heart. You know I wish you every happiness in the world, except as your queen and sister I feel as though I must give you advice
against what your heart desires. I understand that you love Keith, however - like myself - you have a blood lineage to continue. There is always the option of
surrogacy, but the decision comes with emotional weight and a possible burden on your relationship that may be hard to carry. I would like you to consider your
options and your duty as an heir to the royal Altean bloodline. Often what our hearts want does not always go in harmony with what duty requires. Keith, as a bastard,
is lucky in the way that unless he is legitimized he does not have to worry about keeping his love and his political situation separate. Please think about your
relationship with Keith carefully. In the meantime, I wish you the best in your relationship with him.
Yours,
Allura
Lance leaned back in bed, folding the letter and glancing at where Keith was asleep on the bed next to him. He had received the letter weeks ago, but hadn’t replied. He had been thinking too much about what Allura had said, and wondered if he would really have to sacrifice his happiness with Keith in order to keep his bloodline going. What if he realized that he didn’t particularly care? He knew he should - in the event that Allura died before producing an heir he would need to step up to take the throne. He set the letter aside, glancing over to where the bioluminescent crown was being preserved in a glass vase in the corner as he settled underneath the blankets.
“Hey, Keith…” he murmured, reaching over to stroke one of his ears. Keith’s ear twitched in response, groaning before turning over to look at Lance with tired yellow eyes. He hummed in question, scooting closer and draping an arm over Lance’s chest, face nuzzling into his shoulder. “I’m not sure if I should be with you,” Keith tensed, “But I want to be with you, anyways.” Keith relaxed, slowly, resting his chin on Lance’s clavicle. “Is that bad?”
Keith sighed, his thumb swiping over Lance’s lips as the younger boy gazed up at him with worried blue eyes. “Maybe.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I want to marry you.”
Keith’s breath hitched in his throat, going warm as his nails gently dug into Lance’s skin. “I’d say yes,” is all he managed to get out. Lance smiled up at him, stealing the breath out of Keith’s lungs.
“You would?” he asked.
“Yes,” Keith agreed.
“Okay.” Lance slipped a hand into his hair so he could pull Keith into a kiss.
“Okay?” Keith asked into his mouth.
“Okay.”