Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance focused on regulating his breathing as he eyed the two gladiators standing before him, knees bent and balancing on the balls of his feet, always prepared to move.

And when the two robots shot towards him like a bullet from his favored weapon, he was ready for them.

He had realized at some point that, as the long-ranged fighter in the group, he was also the most vulnerable when it came to close combat, and while he was working on fixing that now that his bayard had revealed its new broadsword form (he wasn’t sure why Allura had specified that it was Altean, since technically all of the bayard weapons were considered as such), he didn’t want to rely on that.

So, drudging up twelve years of gymnastics lessons, experience contorting his body into weird poses with yoga, and years of dance, Lance had started to develop a fighting style more befitting of his strong points.

He wasn’t Shiro or Keith, and despite being technically stronger than the latter, he preferred precise strikes towards a target’s weak points as opposed to going all out and overwhelming his opponent. Not that he was judging, since the tactics usually worked pretty well for Keith, but it wasn’t a style that he could see himself adopting.

And really, why should he try?

Despite Iverson’s words back at the Garrison, and the fact that he was now piloting Red, Lance wasn’t the same person, and he knew deep down that despite his own occasional questioning of his worth, his team didn’t expect him to be.

 So no, he wasn’t doing this at all to try and outdo Keith, but the time for slacking off and lounging around for a good part of their awake cycle had long since passed.

He hummed thoughtfully as he went into a back handspring to avoid the first strike from the gladiators that he wasn’t sure he could dodge by just bending out of the way, leaping forward afterwards to push his advantage and kick the bot further away and into the path of the second, knocking them both down and thereby ending the training sequence.

Lance walked over to the side of the room, taking a few measured sips from his water canteen as his mind went over what had worked and what hadn’t, and on what could be improved upon in the future. Maybe if he—

‘No harm in trying.’ Lance figured, setting his water back down and setting up a new simulation.

When the timer counted down, a single gladiator appeared, wielding a metal staff.

Not unusual at all, if not for the fact that most of the time when the Paladins trained, they had their own bayards available to defend against the gladiators’.

He had seen Matt use his own staff with a hell of a lot more skill than he would’ve expected, given Pidge’s stories and what he’d known about the guy from his reputation at the Garrison, and Lance realized that it would hardly hurt to learn how to dodge the weapon effectively, because he’d seen Matt’s pack quite the punch.

This time Lance had to focus more on figuring out how to avoid the gladiator’s blows, not used to the extended reach the staff provided. At one point he had to block it with his forearm, wincing at the power behind the strike even if it hadn’t hit him head on and resolving to just avoid it entirely if possible.

He was so absorbed in the exercise that he didn’t notice the door opening as his teammates came to check up on him, or when they realized that distracting him mid-simulation probably wouldn’t end well, going up to the control room instead to eliminate themselves as a distraction.

Coran smiled as he checked the training logs, which kept track of the time each of them spent in the training room, as well as what simulations they did and their stats for each one.

“Anything interesting, Coran?” Allura raised an inquiring eyebrow at the proud glint in her friend’s eyes, glancing down to Lance who bent himself in such a strange and unanticipated way that the humans in the room whistled in surprise.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He shook his head, though the smile didn’t leave his face. “Lance has been here a few vargas, and he’s beaten a few of his high scores again. It’s an off day when he doesn’t improve his high score for shooting simulations—”

Which was saying a hell of a lot, since no one else on the team could hold a candle to his scores, including Hunk, the only other one with a long-range weapon, since Pidge’s didn’t quite count as such.

“—but he’s been lasting longer and longer during survival mode, too.” Coran continued.

“Survival mode?” Pidge asked, blinking in confusion.

“Lasting as long as possible against whatever the simulation throws at you.” Allura explained with a shrug. “We’ve been focusing more on outright fighting modes, but now that I think about it, this would be a good challenge to incorporate into our usual training. Did you tell him, Coran?”

“Oh, no.” Coran denied. “I mean, Lance often accompanies me when there’s work needing to be done around the castle, so that may very well be why he knows this place is here, but everything else he would have needed to figure out himself.”

“Holy fuck…” Keith breathed out as Lance nimbly dodged yet another blow, this time grabbing hold of the staff and yanking it away from the gladiator before making a swipe at its neck and separating its head from the rest of its body.

“Language.” Shiro said automatically, eyes bright as he considered the possibilities of this ‘survival mode’ that Lance had discovered. He had noticed that the other was unarmed until he’d stolen the gladiator’s weapon, and wondered if he would do as well in the exercise if he didn’t use his Galra prosthetic.

If nothing else, it would be fun to find out.

“Holy quiznack.” Keith rolled his eyes at his brother figure, using the word incorrectly just because it had become an inside joke once they found out what it actually meant. “You’re such an old man, Shiro.”

“Excuse you, I’m only six.” Shiro sniffed, before freezing and turning to the others. “You didn’t hear that.”

“Six, huh?” Pidge repeated, pushing her glasses up so that the light reflected off of them. “We’ll come back to this later.”

“Not if I can help it.” Shiro muttered, turning away and therefore not seeing Keith mouth a few words to her and Hunk. “Anyway, we should go back down now that—”

But Lance started a new simulation before he could get the words out, and suddenly the holodeck was plunged into darkness.

“Oh my!” Allura startled, immediately reaching towards the console to turn on the infrared cameras so they could make sure Lance was okay. “What—”

“Sensory training!” Coran beamed. “Lance explained to me that vision is usually most heavily relied upon by humans out of their five senses (only five, Allura, can you believe that?!), so he asked me to put together a few simulations that might help him get around that.”

“That’s…a really good idea, actually.” Keith rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His Galra heritage made his own senses stronger than his fully human counterparts sometimes, especially after training with the Blade of Marmora, but not to the extent that he felt comfortable training in total darkness like Lance apparently was.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, I’m kind of feeling like an idiot for not thinking of that.” Hunk groaned. “Especially since Coran likes to turn on our visors’ blackout feature at random while we’re training.”

“Uh, guys?” Pidge called, eyes on the screen displaying what was happening, since looking out the one-way glass wouldn’t help in this case. “You might want to take a look at this…”

The others gathered around the screen worriedly, though they knew that if something had happened, Pidge wouldn’t be so calm, so they didn’t freak out.

“Droids?” Keith muttered as small spherical heat signatures appeared, circling around Lance’s own form rapidly. They’d all seen Lance shoot them out of the air at that speed like it was nothing, but this was something else entirely.

“Oh no…” Hunk’s eyes widened as the droids starting firing at Lance…who was somehow managing to dodge them, causing everyone’s jaws to drop beside Coran and Pidge’s.

Pidge, for her part, gently took off Matt’s old glasses, looking at them speculatively. “I’m…not the only one seeing this, right? Matt’s always been the one with bad vision, but maybe I need a prescription of my own?”

“No, I think your vision is just fine.” Shiro breathed out in awe.

Keith was silent, totally focused on watching Lance dancing gracefully around the lasers being shot and him, both to make sure that he didn’t get hit and to continue watching the amazing display.

He and Allura, the only other person who hadn’t taken her eyes off the screen, jolted backwards in surprise when Lance suddenly brought up his bayard and formed his blaster gun, shooting at a spot he obviously couldn’t see.

Then one of the thermo signatures died out, and that did not escape the others' notice.

“Holy shit.” Shiro gasped.

“Language.” Pidge scolded in Keith’s place, since he was still too entranced by Lance to notice anything else.

“Seriously, how is he doing this?” Hunk laughed incredulously as more and more droids were taken out by his friend’s uncanny accuracy.

“He’s been teaching himself how to sense different types of energy, in the hopes of being able to feel incoming attacks in combat situations and hopefully acquire less bodily injury as a result.” Coran explained. “He wanted to see if doing so was even possible for humans, and after discovering that it is, has since been working out how best to do so before bringing it up to the rest of you.”

“Something like meditation would probably help with that, right?” Keith perked up slightly, more than willing to support Lance’s idea.

“Maybe?” Shiro smirked at his younger ‘brother’s’ attitude before humming thoughtfully, carding a hand through his hair. “I mean, it can help people focus better—hence why I always try and get you to join me, but Lance is already pretty good at that.”

Despite all appearances, the team had come to find that Lance actually had the tendency to hyper-focus if anything, which, while beneficial in his skill as a sharpshooter, made his bad days even worse, since he wasn’t easily distracted. Not that anyone knew that but Hunk, Kaltenecker, and the mice.

“Yoga can be considered its own form of meditation, and he goes through his routine while waiting for his face masks to dry.” Hunk offered. “That probably helps.”

“Yeah, I’m not flexible enough for that shit.” Pidge said bluntly and ignoring Shiro’s sigh.

“Maybe not, but it certainly seems to be working for Lance.” Allura said with a smile as one last shot was fired into the darkness and the simulation ended, Lance calling out for the lights to turn back on.

Looking down onto the training room floor, they noticed a sweaty and panting Lance take a few more sips of water (Keith trying not to whimper as a few drops escaped his mouth and rolled down his neck) before picking his things up and heading to the adjacent showers.

Not wanting their friend to realize they’d been more or less spying on him (even if that hadn’t been their intention), they crept out as silently as possible while he was washing up, resolving to ask Lance about it later and see what other ideas he had.

Coran was the last to leave, pausing at the doorway and smiling towards where Lance was and murmuring a few quiet words.

“Well done, my boy.”

And then he, too, left.

Chapter Text

A few days after witnessing Lance’s ‘secret’ training session, Pidge and Hunk realized that, since they hadn’t known about the room prior to Coran leading them there, it hadn’t been equipped with any of the upgrades and fuck-don’t-kill-the-human safety measures the primary training room had been.

The two immediately went back to the holodeck, heading up the stairs to the control room and getting to work to install the improvements, not wanting their friend to get hurt because of an oversight on their part, now that they knew there could be a problem.

They became so absorbed in their work that, when Lance came in a short time later, they didn’t notice.

Lance wandered off to the small armory on the side of the room to grab the weapons he wanted to practice with, having decided not to do any bayard training until the team’s session later, and when he came back out it was to set up some targets.

He strapped a couple of garments on, a brace to his left forearm and a strange-looking piece of fabric that was the Altean version of a finger tab, meant to act as a buffer between his fingers and the bowstring when the bow was drawn back to help eliminate the pain repetitive shooting could cause to an archer's hand.

Lifting the Altean recurve bow that Coran had showed him when he mentioned having experience with the weapon due to his aunt teaching him when he was younger, Lance took aim at one of the nearby targets, slowly drawing the bowstring back and getting a feel for the weapon.

He frowned, moving the string back to the shaft of the bow instead of just letting go of it, not wanting it to snap and hit his arm even if he was wearing the brace.

Last time he’d practiced with the bow, there had been a Galra attack, and in his rush he obviously hadn’t had the time to unstring it, which wouldn’t have really been an issue if it was the bow he had used back home on Earth, but a ten-thousand year old bow was an entirely different story.

So he wandered back into the armory, this time going to the supply closet and taking out a bowstringer and a spool of thin material that Coran had assured him was to be used for this purpose, unstringing the bow and replacing it with an ease that spoke of years of practice.

“Level 22: Archer!” Lance called out as he reached the center of the room and fell into his preferred stance.

Initially the simulation for any sort of ranged weapons were basically either the small spherical drones or circular targets not unlike Earth’s, but when Lance started to consistently score 100% in accuracy during his training, Coran had realized that the original set-up would just cause his favorite paladin’s progress to plateau.

And he so did love a challenge.

So the Altean devised a new series of simulations just for Lance, creating targets in the shape of the many, many dangerous creatures Coran had faced over the years, as well as those that he had only heard of.

Knowing that a different looking target could only get him so far, Coran had also added a few other features, much to Lance’s interest.

Lance had to think strategically whenever a target placed itself in front of him. He had to work out what its weaknesses were as best he could based on his own instincts and sometimes what the creature looked like, and if he guessed incorrectly his weapon would have no affect and the target would start to either move more quickly or shrink in size, becoming harder and harder to hit until he figured it out.

Coran had uploaded so many creatures in the system that it was pretty uncommon for it to pull up one that Lance had faced before, which was good since it was also training his deduction skills, though for some reason Lance was always reminded of Pokémon Go whenever he did this exercise, since there were so many possible targets.

Sometimes when Lance wanted even more of a challenge he’d hit any area he knew wouldn’t work just to make things more interesting for himself, but from Coran’s groans of sympathy he hadn’t realized yet that it was intentional.

For now, though, Lance wanted to see if he could beat his timing.

His eyes glided over the targets presented to him, focusing on one with a more obvious weakness as his mind worked over the others’, drawing the string of his bow back to the corner of his mouth and releasing and immediately turning to the next target, not even looking to make sure he’d hit it.

After all, it had been a while since he’d missed his target, at least without external interference.

“Whoa, Pidge, look!”

Pidge looked up, expression slightly annoyed, to see her friend gaping out the observation window down into the main holodeck.

“What?” she grumbled, reluctantly standing up so she could see too, pride a bit hurt because Hunk was tall enough that he was able to do so while still kneeling.

Then she saw what had caught his attention, and her own eyes widened, irritation disappearing in an instant.

Lance had apparently wandered in to do some training while they were too caught up in the upgrades to notice, and for some reason was doing target practice with a bow, of all things.

She hadn’t even known that archery was a part of Lance’s skill set, but he certainly seemed comfortable with it.

And absolutely kicking ass, from what she could tell.

Targets were dropping like flies around her friend, who was focusing on each target seemingly at random despite its placement compared to the one before it.

There was a pattern here, she realized, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Well, fuck.” She said after a long minute of watching Lance eliminate target after target. “Am I the only one feeling kind of…”

“Inadequate?” Hunk finished dryly.

She blew her hair out of her eyes in response with a nod.

No one had thought all that much of it when Lance had managed to unlock his long-ranged sniper when Keith handed over the red bayard to him, presuming at first that the change was simply because it was the first time the bayard had worked with him, but when it later switched back to its usual blaster form it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“A bayard evolves with their paladin.” Coran had said wisely.

“The type of weapon a bayard becomes is decided by the lion they pilot.” Allura had agreed with a small, proud smile that Lance would’ve been happy to see, had he not gone to his quarters before Pidge had asked the Alteans about it. “When there’s a need, or the paladin shows the potential, additional bayard forms can be unlocked.”

“The most obvious example would be Zarkon, of course.” Coran hummed. “After 10,000 deca-phoebs, it’s hardly a surprise that his combat skills have grown to include the use of so many weapons, and since his connection to Black was still present until...well.”

“So, there’s a possibility our bayards might eventually change into different weapons?” Hunk asked, trying to skirt around the topic of Shiro, since Keith’s eyes had dimmed at Coran’s near mention of the missing man. “Like, obviously Lance’s changed from one firearm to another, but could it change from a gun to, say, a lance? He’d probably get a kick out of that.”

The two Alteans blinked up at him in confusion.

“A lance is kind of like a javelin.” Pidge intoned, before pausing, pushing her glasses up a bit. “Actually, they’re probably best-known to have been used by knights, now that I think about it. What a trip.”

“I’m sorry, what’s this about tripping?” Allura looked lost. “None of us have fallen.”’

“She means that it’s ironic Lance shares a name with a weapon known to have been used by knights, because a lot of people on Earth use the term interchangeably with ‘paladin’.” Keith finally spoke up, idly picking at the skin surrounding his fingernail, which would’ve bugged the hell out of Lance had he been there to see it.

“That’s…rather poetic, actually.” Coran grinned slightly. “And to think you weren’t convinced about being chosen as a paladin of Voltron being destined.”

Keith sniffed at him, not wanting to get into that particular philosophical discussion again.

He preferred the idea that he was in charge of his own life (despite all evidence to the contrary), but Coran was just as firm in his own beliefs, and it really wasn’t worth it to argue something neither or them would back down from.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder what our bayards might turn into, if we ever get to that point.” Hunk mused, intentionally changing the conversation.

A curiosity that they still didn’t have an answer for, months later.

What did it say about their own potential that Lance had unlocked a third transformation before any of the rest of them had unlocked their second?

Coran mentioned it was a result of Lance’s ability to adapt, which made sense, but since the lions would only allow the upgrade when they felt their pilot was ready for it…

Well, it was a little disheartening to the rest of them, to seemingly be so far behind.

But seeing how hard Lance worked with his new weapons, to achieve the closest he could to mastery no matter what Red presented him with and even going farther with the other weapons in the armory (like with the Altean recurve bow he was using now, which Pidge and Hunk had never seen or heard mention of, what the hell)…well, if anyone’s bayard was to be so versatile, at least it was in the hands of someone who could utilize it to its fullest extent.

Chapter Text

Sure, all of the Paladins had their strong points, she knew.

But most of them only had two or three things that they really focused on, and as was becoming more and more obvious the longer they spent in space, overspecialization could hurt them just as much as it could help.

But Lance, jack of all trades (and, it seemed, master of more and more as time went on), hadn’t really had that problem, unless he was just caught in the crossfire.

Back when this had all started Pidge had kind of thought of Lance as the weak link on the team, which Pidge was now completely and utterly ashamed of having ever even thought about at all.

God, if anything he was the strongest.

Sure, they were all important.

Most would assume that the most valuable member of Voltron would be Allura, Shiro, or Keith, taking into account their own positions on the team, and none of the other members would fault anyone for thinking that, even if it sometimes hurt.

But Lance was the one who all three of them had gone to when they needed help, when they needed reassurance that they weren’t going insane, or that they may have made a mistake but that they would work together to move past it.

And they had chosen him to place their trust in because they knew that Lance, for all his goofiness and flirting and competitiveness, would listen and understand and do his absolute best to help.

It wasn’t just them, either.

Hunk obviously trusted him completely, the pair having been best friends for years.

Coran had found in Lance a kindred spirit, one who had a big heart and who also missed the home that they had once known. Coran, who didn’t want to cause the princess pain by reminding her of their loss, who turned to Lance instead.

Lance, the boy who had progressed even further in his studies of the Altean language than Pidge had, even though she had a significant head start. The rest of the Paladins had assumed that he was learning it to try and impress Allura, but realized that they’d made asses out of themselves when they discovered that Allura hadn’t had any idea of Lance’s newfound skill when they brought it up and listened to Lance’s startled and sheepish explanations when she asked him about it.

No, he had done it partly because he liked learning languages (Altean brought it up to eight that he was at least semi-fluent in) but more than that because he couldn’t imagine being in Coran and Allura’s situation, being the last remnants of a people lost to time and war. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if he was one of the last people in the universe who spoke Spanish, his native (and favored) language, one that spoke of hugs and laughter and warm embraces, so he took it upon himself to try and help carry the burden of a forgotten culture.

Pidge herself had started becoming close to Lance only after they’d ended up at the Castle, having brushed off his attempts at friendship back at the Garrison (another action she now regretted), bonding over their yearning to be reunited with the families, or talking about the vintage video games that they discovered was a shared interest of theirs.

It meant that Pidge thought nothing of loaning her headphones to Lance during their sleeping cycle, knowing that he had trouble sleeping without listening to music.

It meant that when her time of the month came, after her big gender reveal, Lance was the one she had gone to for help instead of Allura, Coran, or even Shiro. Having grown up in a household with four women, she had wagered that he was the least likely to make things awkward, especially since she didn’t know if Alteans had the same issues as humans did, and her gamble had definitely paid off.

It was just…a lot, when you thought about it.

Lance did so much for them all without even thinking about it, and most of the time he did it without any thanks, or without anyone even acknowledging it.

Pidge knew that he probably didn’t think much of it, but suddenly his one-sided conversation with the yupper back on Beta Traz, which Pidge had been able to hear the entirely of when they got back and she was checking up on their equipment, made a lot more sense.

A fifth (or seventh) wheel.

‘No one else—’ acknowledges his skills as a sharpshooter.

Maybe he doesn’t have a thing.

Just the thought of the uncertainty she remembered being in Lance’s voice, the underlying pain, made Pidge’s heart clench painfully.

Here her and Hunk were, watching Lance absolutely destroy his targets and feeling like they’re the ones who don’t measure up, while Lance thinks the same thing in reverse.

All the comments they had made, about his failed attempts at flirting or maneuvers while fighting or piloting that hadn’t worked out as intended. Pidge referring to him as ‘the goofball’. The running joke about Lance’s ears being called hideous by Allura, as if the other humans’ weren’t considered as such as well, as if it was just him.

They…they had really failed him, hadn’t they?

The rest of them were so caught up in themselves, so focused on their own drama, that they hadn’t noticed the silent support that had been a constant from day one, and weren’t all that great at noticing when he himself could use some reassurance and kind words.

Chapter Text

“Hey Lance!” a voice called from behind him, and Lance turned to see Shiro jogging up to him, probably also on his way to breakfast.

“Hey Shiro, how are you doing?” Lance grinned at his friend and former leader, happy to see that some of the bags underneath the other’s eyes had faded away with a good night’s sleep.

“Better.” The other snorted slightly, more willing to admit that he hadn’t been in prime condition after Allura’s alchemy had transferred his soul into the clone’s body now that he wasn’t so lethargic. “For the most part, at least. I used to meditate to get my thoughts in order, but it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to for some reason…”

“Hm…” Lance frowned thoughtfully, tilting his head before hesitantly making an offer. “I don’t have any experience with meditation, per say, but I’ve been doing yoga for years, since I realized that it helps with my ADHD.”

“Yoga, huh?” Shiro’s eyes lit up. “There’s an idea. I’m not all that flexible, though.”

“There are poses that don’t really require you to be.” Lance explained. “I usually spend about half an hour each morning doing yoga, if you wanted to join in…?”

“That…could be fun, if you truly don’t mind.” Shiro’s lips quirked up in a smile, before he blinked as a thought occurred to him. “I know me, or Keith are usually in the training room, so I imagine you don’t do it in there?”

“Nah, anywhere is fine.” Lance shook his head. “Usually I just do it in my room, but sometimes I’ll go to the observation deck—you know, that room over by the library with the huge window.”

“That’s one of your favorite rooms in the castle, isn’t it?” Shiro smiled softly.

Lance glanced down at his shoes. “Yeah, probably. If the pool wasn’t up on the ceiling that’s where I’d be most of the time, but I spent my entire childhood looking up at the stars. Even with everything that’s happened, there’s still just something about gazing at them…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shiro hummed. “Sometimes I’d come up with new constellations and stories to match, like the Romans did.”

“I tried that, but constellations are all about the positioning of stars from a certain perspective, and—”

“Since we move around so much, they’re constantly changing.” Shiro finished for him with a grimace. “Yeah, I eventually realized that. Took an embarrassing amount of time before I realized why the patterns would be there one moment and gone the next. I was kind of bummed about it, actually.”

Lance chuckled. “You know…don’t take this the wrong way, but back at the Garrison I never would’ve expected you to be this much of a dork.”

Shiro looked at him in surprise, but Lance stared straight ahead, looking a bit distracted.

“It’s just nice, you know?” he continued. “The Garrison kind of put you on this huge pedestal, like you were just this guy with flawless piloting skills who always followed orders, and the instructors always encouraged us to emulate you. That’s not a bad thing, but the way they did it…I don’t know.”

Shiro sighed. “Sometimes I felt like one of those things you’ll see at fairs, a board with the face cut out so people could poke their heads through? God, I’m phrasing it badly…”

“I think I get what you mean.” Lance shook his head. “They made you out to be some sort a Gary Stu so people could kind of…I don’t know, see themselves as having your life? Like, if you work hard enough, if you always listen to your teachers and do what you’re told, you can be just like him!”

‘Gary Stu?’ Shiro wondered about that term, but the words themselves made his shoulders relax slightly. He knew that the brief hero worship Lance (and Hunk) had for him back when they met was long gone, but it was nice to know that he got it.

“Yeah.” Shiro said forlornly, but then laughed. “Actually I was kind of a pain, I don’t know why they ever bothered trying to make me out to have been a perfect student. My old classmates probably all laughed themselves to tears when the promo crap went out.”

Lance’s eyes lit up. “Oh, and what was the so-called perfect student really like, then?”

“Honestly, I kind of…acted like a mix of you and Keith, probably.” Shiro blinked. Huh. That was something to think about. “I was always kind of an embarrassing mess whenever I liked someone, but I’d crack jokes all the time and make what Adam and Keith referred to as godawful puns. I’d sneak out at night and steal a hoverbike…Keith mentioned when you guys rescued me back on Earth that he drove off a cliff.”

“Yeah…” Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, are you saying—”

“I taught him how to do that.” Shiro confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I…okay, if I’m being honest I was kind of an enabler.”

“Oh my god.” Lance’s hand went up to try and muffle the snort that escaped without his permission but gave up and just kind of collapsed onto the floor as he cackled.