Chapter Text
As a well-respected commander of the Blade of Marmora, it didn't take long for news to travel to you.
The leader of the Blade of Marmora, Kolivan, had ordered you to be one of those to greet the two newcomers and only to fight when they become a severe threat. The latter portion of the order would've made you whine, if it wasn't Kolivan's orders.
He knew you itched to fight and he also knew that during the strenuous trials, you would be an unfair challenger to the red paladin.
Kolivan explained that it was to give lower rank Blades practice, but you knew that he also didn't trust you to keep a leash on your fighting skills for the newcomer. So here you were, moments later, in an annoyingly safe room with: The Black Paladin, Kolivan, and fellow Blades. Staying in the shadows, overwatching the room in case the Black Paladin stepped out of line.
Although, there wasn't an order of not watching the screen.
You were sure it didn't take the observation skills of a commander to spot the flames in the newcomer's eyes. Eyes that held anger, passion, and willpower like you had never seen before. You felt idiotic that you were enchanted by the passion, even as the trials had shifted against his favor near the second half. Watching him limp after the cut almost made you hiss, too empathetic for your own good.
You mentally slapped yourself as you observed the challenger on the screen. Who was to say that you didn't see yourself in him? His agility with the blade (that he was adamant in not handing over) and his refusal to give up gave you a feeling that he was definitely stubborn and also a strange thrill...
Exhilaration. That's what it was observe him. Every strike, every hitch of his breath, every movement, it was exhilarating. It was almost as if you were in the battle yourself. Again, almost.
You could feel it in your bones. The sweeping kicks, the quick punches, the panting and fighting until every intake of breath was similar to shards of glass in your lungs. Oh, how your toes almost curled at the adrenaline during fights. The thrill of battle, the satisfying feeling of pummeling enemies into the ground.
Then, like an addictive yet frustrating video game, the action stopped with player one deciding to jump down into one of the holes. Well, that certainly wasn't how most games went, but it sure seemed like a game over if anything.
You, admittedly, were quite impressed though. Impressed not only at the bravery of jumping into a mysterious hole, but also the rash action and it's stupidity.
Judging by body language, the paladin in the room was definitely tense at his companion collapsed on the floor. The paladin made his concerns known, and it didn't take long for Kolivan to speak and only frustrate him more.
Shifting between concern and amusement yourself, you watched as the black-haired male's features contorted with what you could only assume as pain.
Knowledge or death, you said mentally. It seemed like Kolivan had the same thought as he repeated it back to the black paladin.
It was the Blade of Marmora's motto, just like Zarkon had 'victory or death'. You held back a scoff, 'victory or death' my ass. There was far more in the universe than winning. Sure, battling was great and all, but music and so many other things are great too.
Although, as you looked back to the violet-eyed male, you couldn't help but wish that he would recieve knowledge - not death. Even though you were a commander, you knew how the trials were (also, he was an underdog, how could you not root for the underdog?).
Suddenly, there was a hologram in the room with the challenger and you bit back a smile. He was standing and talking to a hologram of the black paladin, now known as Shiro. Interesting that he was the one the raven-haired boy wanted to see the most. And that very reason seemed to be the last straw for Shiro.
You stepped forward to help fellow Blades restrain Shiro as he yelled furiously for his companion. Unable to keep yourself from thinking that that was why he had white bangs, that enormous concern he seemed to manifest towards the raven-haired boy, and not some unfortunate dye job.
"You're going to kill him! I need to go see Keith! He needs help!"
Keith, huh? Nice to put a name to a face.
Your train of thought was interrupted as everyone began to stumble, your eyes widening behind the mask. Kolivan bellowed out that Voltron was attacking and the Shiro, ever-so desperate retorted with: "It's the red lion! It's trying to save Keith!"
Soon enough, with much stumbling and yelling, you were down in that same room with this alleged Keith.
Once all the pressure seemed to weigh on Keith's shoulders, (because his over-bearing lion was gonna destroy the Marmora base), he agreed to give the blade back - spouting some dramatic speech over it. And that was when it happened.
It took everything to keep yourself from whistling at the sight. The blade was glowing.
The blade had outted the stubborn male as half-Galra and it seemed like the Blades weren't the only ones surprised as the two paladins were equally stunned. And after the paladins left with Kolivan, (to officially establish the alliance between Voltron and the Blade of Marmora), masks were turned off as hoods were drawn back.
Most of those around you exchanged murmurs of what would happen, and what the naive male had gotten himself into. It was when someone asked for your opinion on what had happened, that you realized you were biting your lip and completely zoned out to the point that you nearly missed what they asked. Apparently wanting to know what you thought of the challenger's fighting skills, as you had trained with Kolivan himself. It didn't take long for most of the attention to turn to your conversation in the room. You drew back your own hood, your mask automatically turning off.
"W-Well," you cleared your throat to get rid of your stutter. "He missed a couple of obvious weakpoints in the opponent's side, but he was determined to get to the other door. And he did. Although, his attacks could be improved greatly." You silently cheered. Back to your normal commander self on the exterior, your comrade didn't seem to sense the shift in you. Or at least you couldn't tell if they could, because their mask was still up.
But oh, you were shaking internally. How exciting! This place definitely needs more exciting people and you couldn't wait to personally get to know the rather cute challenger.
Your realistic side then brutally elbowed you in the gut. Or maybe you won't ever get to know him personally. He's a paladin of Voltron, have you forgotten? Besides, you could always ask Kolivan for details anyway.
You let your realistic side take hold of your mind for the rest of the day. It was a coping mechanism that had kept away impossible fantasies from hurting you. Those wishes about the half-Galra male was just another one of those impossible fantasies.
Some miniscule portion of you fantasized about if you would get to know him personally though. Maybe more than you could ever dream of. More than your pessimistic side could ever stomp out.