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The rumors had been true. There was, indeed, one final Altean left breathing in this vast cosmos. And he was sitting at Shirogane’s feet, tears running down his beautiful, tanned cheeks. The cerulean Altean marks on his cheekbones glistened with wetness from all his shed tears. He glared up at Shirogane defiantly with eyes as blue as the long-destroyed oceans of Daibazzal, pearly teeth bared. Half of his hair had been pulled out, no doubt by a particularly cruel jailor, but the rest fell in choppy, bronze waves over the side of his face. Shirogane was impressed, to say the least, that the young man had survived this long.
The Altean, apparently fed up with being glared at, spit at Shirogane. “Say something, beast!” A sentry quickly grabbed the boy by the neck, slamming him to the ground. Shirogane lazily raised a hand to stop him. “Do that again and he’ll be dead. And then I’ll have you all dismantled and sold for scrap.” The sentry straightened up and Shirogane stood, kneeling down and pulling the Altean up by the chin. He almost felt bad for the thing. Almost.
“Listen here, little Altean. You are alive by my good graces, and nothing else. I will not tolerate such defiance. Now, if you don’t listen, there will be immense pain in your future. However, if you’re good, I will make sure your last breathing days are not spent as a torture pet for more sadistic Galra than myself.” Shirogane straightened himself, smirking as the Altean looked up at him with fearful eyes. Oh, that was a good look on him.
He turned away, approaching his command console. “Take the Altean to my personal chamber. If he’s harmed further, your heads will be scrap.” Shirogane could barely contain himself. He finished the tasks he’d set before himself with renewed vigor, eager to move on to his captive. When he entered the room, he sent out the sentries and the live guards, pressing buttons on his command pad to lock the room and soundproof it for privacy.
The Altean looked at him and Shirogane cast off his helmet, running to him and falling to his knees, sobbing as he brought the thin body against him. His body quaked with the magnitude of his sobs, but the Altean stood firm, gently wrapping his arms around the man and smiling ever so softly. Memories of a haunting night in one of the guest rooms at the Castle of Lions, grasping hands on naked bodies, and windows fogging with the heat of their love came back to Shirogane as he cradled the Altean in his arms. He whispered a single word, lips turned up in a smile as the tears dripped from his chin.
“Alanci…”
A small chuckle from the lithe frame above him made Shirogane look up. He smiled at the delight on his Altean's face, reaching up to caress tear-stained cheeks. They embraced, eyes closing and bodies pressing closer together. Shiro felt his prize trembling in his arms and felt fresh tears hitting his shoulder, so he brought his love closer into his arms. They stayed still like that together until Alanci laughed softly.
"I told you last time, Shiro... I'd much rather you call me Lance. Especially now that we can see more of each other."
Shiro nodded, standing slowly.
"I'll keep you safe this time, love. Safe and sound in my arms until this war is over. And everything will be okay..."
"Darling, the war is far past completed. I know you will keep me safe to the best of your ability, but I'm the last Altean... How can anything be okay now?"
Shiro shook his head. He wouldn't entertain thoughts like that. He gently scooped Lance up and sat him on the bed, kissing his cheeks and jaw and finally his lips. He swore sparks passed between them, hopefully a sign that he was doing the right thing. He unlocked the door and had food brought to Lance, leaning against the wall and watching quietly as Lance ate and his advisors passed in and out to give him information.
Hours later, the ship's night cycle began. Shiro, once again, locked the door of his room, quickly shucking his armor and hurrying to the Altean's side. He brought Lance to his chest, kissing his eyelids and nose and forehead and every inch except his lips until Lance finally held his head still so he could do it himself. The two laughed softly, a small beacon of happiness in the new, dark regime that encompassed almost all the known universe at this point.
They laid together, bodies pressed close and curled around one another. Finally, it felt that everything was as it should be. They were together again, happy again. Shiro felt whole, and Lance felt loved. Everything was as it should be, even without the passionate throes the two had been caught in two years ago when they first met.
It was strange, Shiro thought as he absentmindedly played with what was left of Lance's hair, that so much could happen in two short years. His leader dying in a rift of Quintessence and then suddenly coming back to life, their homeworld being destroyed by the Alteans, the entire Altean race dying under Galran blades. He sighed and closed his eyes, nuzzling close to Lance's sleeping form. At least he had his beloved here in his arms again.
Morning came too soon. Shiro dragged himself from their bed and dressed, letting Lance stay in bed. He would make sure the others knew that Lance was his; they knew better than to enter Shiro's room without permission, anyway. Shiro's word might as well have been that of Emperor Zarkon himself, as much as his crew feared and admired him. He knew how to strike both fear and respect into his men, after all.
It was easy enough to keep Lance's presence on the ship a secret. Easy enough to hide the sounds they made in the night cycle. Easy enough, even, to sneak his love onto the observation deck to see the stars. Lance would point out the constellations and tell him the old Altean stories each one held. He told of his namesake, Alanci, a brave warrior in an Altean legend that stood against the heavens to protect the ones he loved.
Shiro, in turn, told Lance about the Galran legends and fairy tales he'd been told as a child. He told him the story of Rathstax and his thousand quintant fast for peace and of the nameless man who lifted the sun high into the sky so that his people could grow to stand straight.
Most of their nights passed like that, telling stories of the heroes of their cultures while they held each other. Lance sang the battle hymns of Altea and Shiro recited ancient Galran poetry. Most of their time was spent sleeping, though, something that Shiro really wished they could forgo so they could spend more time together. But, alas, they both needed it for their health and sanity.
When they eventually docked to resupply, Shiro was on edge. He knew his room was locked by voice command, palm scan, and retinal scan locks, but he was still antsy. If anyone who wasn't loyal to him found Lance on his ship, Zarkon would be the first to know. Zarkon would want to kill Lance with his own hands, or, worse yet, give him over to his witch advisor. Shiro refused to let that happen to his beloved, and so he kept him locked away. Locked away from the eyes of his crew and the eyes of the universe so that they couldn't see how Lance thrived under Shiro's close attention and affections.
But, as all good things, their happiness could not last. Even against a force as mighty as the Galran Empire, there were rebels who would not sit by to be ruled or enslaved. Their forces were small, lulled by the fake peace the Alteans and Voltron promised them, but their weapons brought devastating effects on the Galran ships when they hit just right.
It was one such weapon that sundered Shiro's ship. It was nigh impossible for Shiro to get to Lance in the chaos of explosions that came from the cannons and fighters that bombarded them. Lance was afraid, rightly so, seeing as he most likely didn't even know about the battle that had been going on. They hurried through the remaining decks and into an escape shuttle, the last one to leave the ship before it broke apart.
The planet they landed on was habitable, but that was one of its only merits. Lance, at least, enjoyed the lush forest that butted up to a sprawling beach. Shiro, however, couldn't see past the dangers it could be holding. He let Lance wander, but never past his protective, if possessive, sight. At least they were alone here. At least they could, hopefully, live out their lives in this beautiful place.
In the night, they slept (or didn't sleep) pressed together in the escape pod, which had become their home away from the Empire. When the rations ran out, they hunted, letting their more primal instincts take over. This, truly, was the life they had yearned for, the life they whispered about in the wee hours of the night cycle when no one could see or hear them.
As fate would have it, however, they had forgotten one important fact. The ship they had escaped in, like nearly all Galra ships, had a tracking beacon. And it was that beacon that proved their downfall. Shiro and Lance had just left the jungle to hunt along the beach when the ship touched down, spraying sand and blinding the lovers. As fate would also have it, Zarkon himself had decided to bring his top general out of the jungle and back into the Empire.
Shiro tried to grab Lance and run, but sentries were already upon them, forcing the general and the Altean to their knees as Zarkon strode towards them. His eyes glowed with Quintessence, giving him the look of an ancient demon. Shiro held his head up defiantly. If this was how it would end, so be it. Zarkon tutted his tongue, shaking his head.
"Here I believed that I would be doing you a favor and bringing you back to the civilization that nurtured you and made you into a great warrior, Shirogane. But now I see that you have been sleeping with the enemy. Tell me, was this Altean mongrel worth a death sentence."
Shiro spit at Zarkon's feet.
"You are not the Emperor I swore allegiance to! The Zarkon I knew would never have destroyed Altea or her people! You've become a monster, twisted by Quintessence and made into a slave!"
Zarkon scoffed and nodded to the sentry holding Lance. Before Shiro could cry out, before Lance could even look up, the Altean was in the sand, blood pooling around a slit in his caramel flesh. Shiro ripped free of his captor, pouncing on Lance and holding him close. Lance wasn’t crying, a soft smile planted on his lips as Shiro pulled his body close. Shiro, however, could have made a new river on this damned planet with his tears. Zarkon gave a command and Shiro heard footsteps approaching him in the sand as Lance croaked out a few, final words, loud enough for only Shiro to hear.
"In our next life, my heart, I will protect you."
"Yes, love, in our next life, you will protect me."