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Lotor had always been the kind of person who planned. He planned everything out as well as he could, as far ahead of time as he could, and with contingencies for as many different possible outcomes as he could. He was a prideful man, yes, but his pride manifested as an intense need for perfection, causing him to check and double-check every plan and contingency. He was almost never overconfident. The only way he could come out on top was if he had planned out how to do so in every possible version of future events, so he planned accordingly.
And this was why he was so confident in his plan for his shared future with Lance. As the Galra prince, Lotor was expected to find a Galra mate — a pressure he considered hypocritical coming from his father, of all people (and oh how Lotor had subjected his friends to many a rant about how his xenophilic father, who had taken an Altean mate , was offended that Lotor, a half-Altean, would dare find other Alteans attractive) — so their relationship would never be approved. But Lance had recently presented as an omega, so Lotor’s plan was that after he had presented, he would quickly mate Lance. Then Altea would have to accept Lotor as a citizen, since he would be Lance’s mate, and once Lotor had fully immigrated to Altea, he could renounce all ties to the Galra empire and finally, finally be free from his father. It was a perfect plan.
Generally, Lotor didn’t make assumptions, or at least, he didn’t make plans from assumptions. Since he hadn’t presented yet, he technically didn’t know what his secondary gender would be, so technically , his plan might not work. If he ended up being an omega, he wouldn’t be able to mate Lance, and he would have much bigger problems than simply lacking a legal way to be with his boyfriend, as he had been educated all too thoroughly on what the traditions were for when a royal child presented as any of the three secondary genders. But his father was an alpha and his mother was a beta, and since omegas generally came from alpha/omega pairings, he knew the chances of him being an omega were fairly low. His body was neither large and muscular nor small and slender, his voice was neither an alpha’s growl nor an omega’s simper, and his personality was neither hot-headed and stubborn nor soothing and people-pleasing. In short, he was a textbook beta, at least by Galra standards. By Altean standards, he was almost certainly an alpha — extremely tall, possessing a very low voice, and much more protective and much quicker to anger than considered acceptable for an Altean beta. So no, Lotor didn’t make assumptions, but in this case, the fact that he would end up as either an alpha or a beta was a given , not an assumption.
He stepped up to the traditional sparring ring, ceremonial sword in hand and head held high. Today was the day he was going to present. The druids had been monitoring his hormone levels for weeks, and even without the miracles of modern science, his steadily-increasing scent was a strong enough indicator on its own. He knew what tradition required of him. He would face off against an alpha warrior chosen by his father. The combat, combined with his peaking hormones, would trigger his instincts. If he fought back no matter how much the warrior pressed him, he would prove himself to be a worthy alpha, regardless of the actual outcome of the fight. If he gave in and surrendered or tried to placate the warrior, he would show himself to be a beta. And if the alpha’s scent and power could make him bend, make him drop his weapon and submit, then he would be proven to be an omega. Such was the nature of the traditional presentation ceremony — trial by combat, like the rest of Galra society.
He looked out into the crowd around the ring and caught Lance’s eye. Since the presentation and coming-of-age of a royal child was a very important affair, allied intergalactic nations, such as Altea, were invited (and expected) to send representatives to attend. Princess Allura, the crown heir of Altea, had decided to honor him with her presence, signifying her intent to maintain the close relationship the royal houses of the two kingdoms had. Accompanying her were her bodyguard, Shiro, a young but promising diplomat named Lance, and a half-Galra, half-Altean soldier named Keith, who often acted as Lance’s bodyguard for events like this. The others who were usually in their little group weren’t present, but that didn’t bother Lotor. He wasn’t particularly close with Hunk or Pidge, not like he was with Allura and Shiro, and, of course, he was far closer with Lance than with anyone else. Keith was somewhere in between — he considered Keith to be a friend, certainly, and they got along well, but he hadn’t put a lot of effort into becoming close with him.
Also standing in the crowd were Lotor’s four friends. Zethrid had her arm wrapped protectively around Ezor, and the two of them were the perfect picture of an alpha/omega mate pair. Next to them stood Acxa and Narti, quietly holding hands, a fine example of a beta/beta pair. Few besides Lotor knew that all four of them were secretly together, since Galra society wouldn’t approve of such a thing. Lotor himself had never put much consideration into the idea of having more than one mate, but he was happy for the four of them, and he kept their secret just as they kept the secret of his relationship with Lance.
As his eyes swept over the rest of the assembly, Lotor recognized some… less friendly faces, and he barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at a few of them (Throk, really? Why was he here?). Still, he kept his composure. This was a formal, ceremonial event, and he could manage to be professional long enough to get through it. He would prove his strength to them all, prove that they were wrong for doubting him. Even if he turned out to be a beta, he would earn their respect if he put up a good initial fight. And if he turned out to indeed be an alpha, this fight would determine his reputation for years to come.
Finally, his chosen combatant stepped up to the ring. Lotor recognized him immediately and didn’t bother to hide a sneer. Sendak . It was no secret that Lotor disliked him, and besides, there was no need for pleasantries right before a battle like this. Lotor was expected to be overwhelmed with hormones and adrenaline anyways. Threats and posturing were normal in this scenario.
Sendak, for his part, looked unconcerned, holding up his ceremonial blade as well and looking down at Lotor with a smug expression. ‘ Bastard ,’ Lotor thought. He wanted to wipe that smirk right off of his face.
Then, from behind Lotor, Emperor Zarkon spoke, and the room immediately fell into silence. “Today, my son Lotor is going to present his dynamic. His true nature will be revealed for everyone here to witness. He will prove himself and his place in society — as a leader and fighter, as a moderator and peacekeeper, or as a follower and homemaker. Such is the nature of the dynamics, as it has been for millennia in the past, and as it will be for millennia to come. None can defy nature; we can only accept it, accept our place, and work together for the good of the Empire.”
“Vrepit sa!” all the Galra in the gathered assembly answered in unison. Lotor’s voice joined them, despite his personal disagreements with his father’s statement. A person was more than their dynamic, as his own friends proved every day. But, of course, it wasn’t Lotor’s place to raise public objection, and he never planned for it to be. He would simply get through this, claim Lance, and immigrate to Altea, where he could leave all of this behind him. It was going to be as simple as that, he was sure of it.
“Then,” the emperor continued, “let this youth leave his childhood behind as he enters into ceremonial combat. Let him prove what kind of man he is now.”
‘ Like I had a childhood to speak of .’ But still, Lotor stepped into the ring, and Sendak mirrored his movements. They stepped evenly into the middle, bringing their blades up to meet once, twice in a crossed pattern before they both stepped back, saluted briefly with their left hands, and…
And now the fight began. Sendak gave Lotor no time to pause, immediately rushing at him, and Lotor evaded. He knew that evasion wouldn’t look good in the eyes of the Galra, but he wasn’t foolish enough to try to block Sendak’s strength directly. Evade, evade, evade... strike! He thrusted toward Sendak, forcing the alpha to step back and narrowly block his blade. A murmur rose up from the assembly, and Sendak almost looked impressed. Lotor drew back a little, going on the defensive again to bait Sendak into attacking him, but he’d already proven that he was willing and able to fight back.
As the battle continued, however, Lotor began to feel overwhelmingly hot. He wiped his forehead, sure that he had to be sweating, but his skin hardly felt damp. That couldn’t be right. He felt like he was burning up — which was odd in itself, considering that he hadn’t been fighting that long or hard yet. He’d sparred for far longer than this in training sessions. Yet he could already feel his concentration slipping, eyes focusing more on Sendak’s body than his weapon.
Still, Lotor pressed himself forward, crying out with fury and forcing himself to keep fighting harder than before. Strike, strike, strike… no! His sword went flying, knocked out of his grasp by one of Sendak’s counterstrikes, and he was quickly backed against the edge of the ring. He felt panic rising in his chest. He knew, intellectually, that this was just a sparring match, but primal fear gripped him as the alpha drew closer, blocking his path to his sword. He instinctually darted away from Sendak, even though that brought him farther away from his weapon. His only thought was that he had to run, now .
A hand caught his wrist and tugged hard, and Lotor whirled, trying to throw a punch with his other hand despite being severely off-balanced. Sendak batted his hand away easily, and it was only then that Lotor realized that Sendak had dropped his sword too. Lotor tried to punch again, but Sendak caught his other wrist, holding both wrists firmly despite Lotor’s desperate struggle to get away. Being held this close to Sendak, Lotor could smell the alpha’s pheromones, and it incited even more fear to rise up in his chest. Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he began to hyperventilate, and another scent rose up even above the smell of sweat and the alpha’s pheromones hanging thick in the air. He recognized it as the acrid scent of an omega’s distress, usually reserved only for when an omega felt threatened — in a sexual way, typically — by a predatory alpha.
That… that couldn’t be right. If an omega was being attacked in the middle of such an important event, someone would do something about it, right? But as he dared to glance around, he saw the pitying looks of the gathered crowd, and the truth hit him all at once. Cold seeped through his veins, and he began to shake, tears spilling over from his eyes. Still, he bared his fangs at Sendak in fury. “Let go!” he shouted. “Pick up your sword. Fight me properly, you cheating coward!!”
“Stop this,” Sendak said gently, too gently, like he was speaking to a frightened child or pet, not a warrior. “Omega, p—”
Lotor brought his knee up as hard as he could between Sendak’s legs, forcing the alpha to let him go and stumble back. Shouting immediately broke out among the assembly; hits to the groin were strictly forbidden in this kind of purely ceremonial combat. Lotor paid them no attention, immediately running to retrieve his sword.
“Stop.” Zarkon’s voice filled the air, causing his son to freeze in place. Lotor immediately cursed himself for doing so, knowing that everyone would attribute it to an omega’s instinctual obedience to an alpha’s commands, rather than to the harsh childhood that had woven fear into every fiber of Lotor’s being long before any hormones or instincts ever could.
And then, realizing that his obedience was a conditioned reaction, not a biological imperative, Lotor forced himself to move again, crossing the rest of the distance to retrieve his sword. He turned to face Sendak, who had retreated to the opposite side of the ring and was looking at him warily. Good. This wasn’t—
“Lotor, stop. This is over . Your dynamic is clear for all to observe, if by no other means than your scent. You are an omega. Accept your place. Submit.”
In an act of rebellion the likes of which he hadn’t dared in a long time, Lotor bared his fangs and growled at his father. “Never! I’ll never submit to the likes of him .” He gestured to Sendak with the point of his blade, but he kept his glare firmly fixed on his father.
Zarkon regarded him cooly and with an all-too-familiar look of disappointment. He then looked over at Sendak and ordered, “Show him his place. An insolent omega will not be tolerated in my court, not even the prince.”
“Yes, my lord.” Sendak strode evenly toward Lotor again, not even bothering to retrieve his sword.
“If you touch me again, I’ll kill you,” Lotor declared. “I swear on the Heart of Daibazaal.”
Sendak faltered, looking over toward Zarkon for guidance. An oath like that was not to be taken lightly — the one who broke such an oath would be exiled from their homeland until they fulfilled or cleansed themself of the oath in some way.
Zarkon’s expression shifted from disappointment to something colder and harsher as he stared down at Lotor. “Such threats have no place at a sacred ceremony, and you are not to threaten one of my soldiers in this way for merely carrying out my will. Renounce your oath.”
Though he wanted to keep fighting, Lotor felt hotter by the moment, and the temporary inaction of the standoff was allowing a bone-deep exhaustion to fill his veins. “I…” He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. “I renounce my oath , but the threat remains. I will not let him touch me.”
“Drop your sword. Kneel and submit as an omega should, and there will be no need.”
Dread coiled in Lotor’s abdomen, and he felt torn about what to do next. He couldn’t, wouldn’t simply give in, but he also didn’t want to be proven weak by being overpowered if he tried to fight. He stood still, indecisive, eyes lowered but grip white-knuckled around his sword-hilt. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Sendak approaching, and he knew he had to decide quickly.
Sendak reached for his wrist again, almost certainly to make him drop the weapon, and Lotor immediately swung his other fist yet again, distracting Sendak while he pulled his sword-arm back and prepared to strike. But he felt dizzy and sluggish, and before his mind caught up to what was happening, the sword was forced out of his hand, Sendak’s hands were gripping his wrists again, and the feeling of panic from before returned in full force.
“N-no,” Lotor protested, voice shamefully weak and shaky. “Nononono, you can’t do this, please .” His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked down to try to hide the tears that had returned to his eyes again. Why was he breaking down so easily? He was stronger than this. He knew he was stronger than this. ‘ Hormones ,’ he realized with nausea. Omegas were considered more emotionally vulnerable because their hormones drove them to be more expressive, especially when they neared heat, which was… which was what was happening here. He was about to fall into his first heat as his body adjusted to its newly-presented secondary gender.
“Just give in,” Sendak murmured, backing him up against the edge of the sparring ring. Ropes pressed into Lotor’s back, keeping him pinned as the alpha loomed over him, and he felt his fear spike. The acrid scent of distress began to fill the room again, and Lotor struggled pointlessly, unable to focus on combat tactics when every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get away from the threatening alpha.
Murmurs rose up from the assembly as event attendees of all secondary genders felt instinctively uneasy at the smell of an omega in distress. Over the rest of the voices, Lotor could make out Lance’s voice pleading, “Just let him go, please, there’s no need for this!” and the sound of it broke through to Lotor in a way nothing else had. He looked over and saw his lover’s tear-stained face looking back at him with worry and fear. Lotor wished there was something he could do — Lance was his future mate, his omega, and wasn’t he was doing this to protect him? — but he realized that, in that moment, his continued fighting was doing nothing but worrying his beloved.
He stopped struggling, and, although he still shook with fear, he lowered his head and tilted it to the side, baring it where Sendak could theoretically bite. He kept his head down even as Sendak released his wrists and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into the alpha’s chest and drowning him in pheromones. The fight drained out of him as the instinctive calming response to an alpha’s pheromones took over, and he let himself be held as he cried, overwhelmed by fear and frustration and hormones and despair.
A moment later, Sendak stepped away, and Lotor let out a shuddery sigh of relief, furiously wiping the tears away from his eyes and off of his cheeks. He looked over at Sendak apprehensively, expecting the alpha to be gloating, but he instead found pity in the man’s eyes, which was… well, it was more understanding than he expected from Sendak, all things considered. Sendak mouthed something that could have been ‘ I had to ,’ but Lotor couldn’t be sure.
In any case, Lotor had a larger fear looming over him now. Tradition dictated what came next, now that Lotor had outwardly accepted his place as an omega. He would soon fall into his first heat, and the Galra, ever efficient, had a tradition that dictated that unless a potential mate had already been determined for the possibility of this outcome, a mate would be immediately chosen for the omega. Supposedly, this was a mercy, providing for the poor omega so that they wouldn’t have to go through even one heat alone without an alpha mate. In practice, it bound omegas for life to hastily-chosen partners, trapping them in mateships that were often unhealthy and poorly matched. Such a fate could be avoided through the careful process of courtship that Lotor admired so much in the much kinder Altean tradition, but the Galra were unwilling to consider changing their ways.
“Prince Lotor has been revealed to be an omega,” Zarkon declared, voice carrying over and quickly quieting the murmurs of the assembly. “Since this outcome was not expected, a mate has not been chosen for him. I welcome any brave warrior who believes themself worthy of royalty to come up and fight for the honor of claiming him as their mate.”
A handful of Galra hesitantly came up and surrounded the circle, all glancing at one another. Meanwhile, Sendak came back over to Lotor, holding out his hand. “You need to leave the circle while they fight,” he murmured.
Lotor eyed him warily. “Aren’t you going to fight too?”
One of the corner’s of Sendak’s mouth twitched in what might have been a grimace. “I think your father expects me to, but I could tell from our fight that you hate and fear me too much. I still respect you as my prince. It would be treasonous of me to hurt my emperor’s son, wouldn’t it?”
Still suspicious, Lotor accepted his hand and let the alpha lead him away from the combat area. “I don’t think the others will be as considerate.”
Sendak hummed in consideration. “Do you have a friend you would trust?”
Lotor narrowed his eyes, not trusting Sendak enough to answer.
Rolling his eyes, Sendak huffed. “Yes, yes, I’m no altruist. If I help you, I fully expect a favor in return, Prince.”
“Fine.” Lotor looked out, and he felt relief when he saw Zethrid standing among the alphas. His relationship with her had never been anything but platonic, but he trusted her with his life. “Help Zethrid win.”
“The half-breed?” Sendak made no attempt to hide his scorn. “I can’t possibly lose to a half-breed. I might as well not enter at all.”
Lotor glared up at him flatly. “Then I suppose I won’t be owing you any favors, because Zethrid is the only—”
“This is barbaric!!” Silence descended yet again over the room, and all eyes turned to Lance as the usually-professional diplomat stormed up into the center of the room. “Lotor deserves to be courted properly.”
Whispers rose up, but Zarkon raised a hand to stop them. “Stand down, little Altean. It is not your place to comment on Galra customs.”
“Lotor is half-Altean,” Lance countered, unperturbed by Zarkon’s command. “And I cannot allow such a violation of an Altean omega’s rights.”
Zarkon looked over at Allura, whose complexion had turned ashen by comparison to her usual rich skin tone. “And what does the Princess have to say about this?” he asked, voice low and menacing.
Allura drew herself up a little, trying and failing to appear composed. “I cannot say I approve of this ritual, but Lotor is not a citizen of the kingdom of Altea, so I acknowledge that he is not under my protection. What you choose to do with your citizens is your choice, Emperor Zarkon, so long as you do not violate the intergalactic law code that informs the peace treaty between our nations.”
Lance looked shocked and horrified, glancing back at her. “But-!”
“No.” The Princess’s voice was firm. “We cannot interfere.”
“But he’s mine!!” Lance protested. He then immediately froze, wide-eyed, and the blood drained from his face as he realized what he’d just said.
“Lance, stop,” Lotor called. His lover’s eyes met his, and he shook his head, hoping to dissuade Lance from continuing to protest.
“What do you mean?” Zarkon stood up from his throne, looming on the raised dais over everyone else in the room. His gaze bore into Lance. “Explain.”
“I started courting him,” Lotor confessed, hoping that his father would accept that as an explanation and not press further. “I sent him gifts—”
“I did not ask you!”
Lotor instinctively shrunk back as his father’s harsh glare fell on him now. He crossed his arms defensively, looking down and hoping not to incite any more anger. “I’m sorry.”
Zarkon’s gaze turned back to Lance. “Diplomat, explain.”
“H-he asked me if I would be his mate,” Lance said quietly. He pulled out a chain around his neck, revealing an engagement ring hanging from it. “I said yes, as soon as he presented, I’d let him claim me.”
The emperor remained silent for a moment, assessing Lance. Then, he said in a calmer voice, “The traditions of Altea mean nothing to me. Consider your engagement called off.”
Lance looked like he wanted to say something more, but Lotor called to him, “Lance, please, stop. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Listen to the prince, little diplomat.” Zarkon’s voice sounded both disdainful and amused, and he crossed his arms as he sat down again. “Do not annoy me further. I should already ask Alfor to reprimand you for fraternizing with my son outside of professional, diplomatic affairs.”
To Lotor’s relief, Lance stepped back instead of persisting and possibly getting them into even more trouble. The situation was bad enough as it was. Anything Lance did at this point would only make it worse.
As a few more Galra alphas joined the circle, Lotor’s attention flickered between assessing them and looking at his lover, who appeared to be pleading with his friends, though Lotor could only begin to guess what he was asking. Didn’t Lance realize that it was useless at this point?
But, suddenly, Keith stepped forward, glancing back at Lance only briefly to nod before joining the circle, quietly slipping in amongst the Galra like he was meant to be there.
“Altean,” Zarkon rumbled, looking at Keith, “what are you doing?”
Keith, to his credit, looked completely unphased by the emperor’s displeasure. “I’m Galra. I’m an alpha. I’m competing for the right to claim the prince as my mate.”
Zarkon scoffed, clearly unimpressed and downright annoyed by this. “You are not a citizen of the empire.”
“That’s not a stated requirement.”
“You are only half Galra.”
“So is the prince.” Keith almost sounded unaffected, but there was a hint of snark in his voice. “I’m Galra-Altean, and he’s Galra-Altean. If the ceremony doesn’t apply to me, it doesn’t apply to him.”
Zarkon’s eyes narrowed, his red gaze boring into Keith’s. “Fine. If you want to participate, go ahead. You could never beat a true Galra.”
Keith bowed his head in acknowledgement, but his eyes shone with defiance as he looked up again. “We’ll see about that.”
Lotor watched the exchange curiously, tensely. What exactly was Keith planning to do? But as he glanced back to Lance, he saw the hope and trepidation in Lance’s face, and the pieces fell together. Keith was a citizen of Altea. If he claimed Lotor as his mate, then Lotor could become a citizen too. It wasn’t quite what Lance and Lotor had hoped for, but it would be a way out for Lotor to escape from under his father’s thumb.
“You want the Altean to win, don’t you?” Sendak asked, startling Lotor, who had nearly forgotten that the commander was still standing nearby him.
“Yes,” Lotor answered without hesitation.
“Hmph.” Sendak glared at Keith. “I won’t throw the match, but for your sake, I won’t cheat. I’m sure your father will ask me to hurt or humiliate him or something like that if it comes down to it, but if you like the kid, I’ll do my best to cut him a break.”
Lotor wasn’t sure how to answer that, but he supposed it would be the best concession he would get from the alpha. “Thank you…?”
Sendak looked back at Lotor. “I hope you understand that I do need to try. Your father will know if I don’t, and his anger will be fierce. If I end up winning, I hope you will not hate me for it, my prince.”
Again, Lotor was unsure what to say to that. “We’ll see.”
The commander’s lips pressed together in a tight line, but he left Lotor’s side and took his place in the circle of fighters around the combat ring, standing directly in front of the emperor to symbolize his position of favor.
Then, the fighting began. Lotor watched it all passively, feeling disconnected from the situation. The outcome would shape the course of his life, but he could not influence it in any meaningful way. Besides, he had made enough of a scene already.
There were only three fighters he watched with interest. Zethrid, predictably, did well, not letting her half-breed status hold her back as she won against Galra larger and stronger and “purer” than herself. Sendak, despite Lotor’s hopes, absolutely excelled in combat, taking down everyone he was paired off against. Keith was surprisingly good as well, utilizing unusual and foreign combat tactics to avoid and take down his much larger opponents.
Lotor hoped that it might come down to Zethrid and Keith in the end, so his heart sank when the two were called to face off against each other. Both looked to him, uncertain, and Lotor was faced with a strategic choice. Zethrid stood a better chance of winning, but if Keith won, the reward would be so much greater, with the chance to finally leave this goodness-forsaken place. And yet, the risk of ending up with someone he hated was so high …
The match started before Lotor could give an answer, and the two had to begin fighting. The prince watched with bated breath as the half-breeds circled each other, both wary, neither willing to hurt the other. Finally, Zethrid charged, Keith dodged, and the fight began in earnest. It was over within a minute. Keith had marked deep grooves in the leg guards that Zethrid wore, proving that he would have flayed tendons if it were not for the armor, and then he managed to get his knife under her breastplate, dangerously close to her heart. Zethrid dropped her weapon in surrender.
Zethrid shot Lotor an apologetic look, but he gave her a grateful smile. He knew she’d done what she could in volunteering, but now, Keith was his better strategic option. He wanted to make sure that she knew that he wasn’t upset that she had lost.
Through match after match, Keith continued to prove himself against opponents much more powerful than him. Occasionally, he had an opportunity to make use of his Altean strength, but he mainly used speed and dexterity to take down larger and slower opponents. Lotor feared that he might tire after a while, but it seemed that Keith always managed to catch his breath between matches and go into the next one as strong as ever.
Finally, it came down to the last two: Keith versus Sendak. Lotor watched nervously as they faced off against each other. Everyone knew that young Commander Sendak was Zarkon’s favorite for his strength and power, so although Keith had proved himself to be a capable fighter, everyone would surely expect Sendak to prevail.
The match started, and Keith immediately started by evading Sendak as the larger Galra attempted an attack. For the next thirty ticks, they continued like this, with Sendak pursuing Keith all around the combat space and the small half-Altean always evading him. Once in a while, Keith made an attack on Sendak, but he only managed non-lethal hits that didn’t count.
Then, suddenly, Keith managed to disarm Sendak, his blade spinning off across the combat ring. It seemed that Keith would be victorious for sure, but then Lotor spotted the glint of a second weapon in Sendak’s other hand. Lotor tried to cry out to alert Keith, but even before he could, Keith grabbed Sendak’s hand and held his own blade up to Sendak’s throat.
“ Yield, cheater ,” Keith growled.
Sendak snarled at him, but he dropped the dagger and stepped back, ceding the match. He shot Lotor a look that the prince could not quite read before leaving the ring entirely.
An uneasy murmur swept through the crowd as everyone wondered what might happen now that the Altean had won the challenge, but the rules were the rules, and Keith had already won. Lotor stepped out into the ring, approaching Keith as steadily as he could, though he noticed that he was already feeling somewhat disoriented and unstable from the growing effects of his pre-heat.
“It seems that the half-breed has won,” Zarkon declared, his voice sounding somewhat muted by disappointment. “State your name and parentage, little one.”
Raising his head proudly, the half-Altean answered, “I am Keith of Altea, son of Krolia of the Blade of Marmora and of Kogane of Altea.”
The emperor glared coldly at him, clearly displeased that Keith was not only not a citizen of the Galra but was not even the son of a citizen at that. Still, Keith had already won, and Zarkon could not very well attempt to disqualify him now. “Very well. Swear allegiance to me now and become a citizen of the Galra empire, and I will allow you to claim my son as your mate.”
Lotor’s heart skipped a beat. No, no, he couldn’t let that happen. “Surely he could swear the vows of allegiance during the mateship confirmation ceremony in seven days’ time,” he quickly interjected, hoping that would be enough.
Keith’s expression was distinctly displeased, and he dared to glare at the emperor. “I will consider swearing allegiance, but for now, my rightful mate needs me.”
“You cannot have him unless you swear allegiance first,” Zarkon declared, his voice cold and threatening.
Disregarding his father, Lotor crossed the rest of the distance to Keith. He pulled the collar of his tunic away from his neck and said quietly, “Do it quickly.”
Keith’s eyes widened, flickering apprehensively from Lotor’s gaze to his neck, but then resolve hardened his features. He nodded once before leaning in, cupping the back of Lotor’s neck with one hand while he pressed his teeth to the soft skin on the side of it.
“No,” the emperor commanded, standing up suddenly.
Pain filled Lotor’s mind as Keith’s teeth sunk into his neck, but then euphoria took over as his hormonal response kicked in. He had a mate now, a rightful mate who would care for him, and as much as he was still frustrated with the situation on an intellectual level, he was instinctually very pleased.
It was over all too quickly as Keith pulled back and looked up toward the throne. Before he could do anything, however, Lotor grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the Altean delegation, toward Princess Allura.
Keith stumbled along with him. “Lotor, what-”
“Lotor-”
“Princess Allura!” Lotor made his voice loud and clear, as much as he could manage with his heat creeping closer every second. “I am now the omega mate of one of your alpha citizens. I should now have protections and immigration rights under Altean laws.”
Allura seemed frozen with shock, but Lance’s eyes lit up, and he grinned with satisfaction. “Why yes, yes you do. If you and your mate choose to come back with us to Altea, no one has the right to stop you.”
“We do choose to,” Lotor said firmly.
All around them, people were staring and shifting uncomfortably. Whispers rose like small waves far out at sea that look innocuous but actually hide a tsunami. Straight ahead, the princess blinked, visibly trying to shake off her shock. Next to him, Keith seemed apprehensive and confused. In a sea of turmoil, only Lotor and Lance were on the same page, the same wavelength, just as they had been for years now.
Finally, Allura recovered. “W-well then, I believe it is time for us Alteans to take our leave. Shiro, Lance, Keith, take everything that belongs to you, and let us depart at once.” She glanced pointedly at Lotor, indicating that he counted as one of the belongings. Lotor had never before in his life been so glad to be objectified.
The emperor stood, and his voice boomed with anger. “Lotor!! Do not walk away like this. If you leave, you will never be allowed to return!”
Lotor looked over his shoulder and openly snarled at his father for the first time in his life. “Good! I never want to step foot on Galra soil again. Consider me dead to you.”
He felt a tugging on his hand, and he looked to see that Lance had taken it. “Come on,” his fiance murmured. “Let’s get out of here.”
Following Lance’s lead, Lotor walked out of the palace, feeling freer with every step. He was as dizzy with the thrill of freedom as with the effects of his pre-heat, and the heady mix of excitement filled his mind and body. He was hyper-aware of Lance’s hand in his, that smaller hand fitting so perfectly into his own, yet he was also aware of the aching mate bite on his neck and Keith’s presence just behind him.
The group quickly reached the ship and piled in, taking off as soon as they could. It was merely a small shuttle ship with a cockpit area, a passenger area, and a small cargo area. Lance pulled Lotor aside into the cargo area, and Keith followed, inescapably drawn by the connection of bonded mates. There were a few spare seats for passenger overflow, and Lotor sat down in one while Lance grabbed a nearby medical kit. Keith stood nearby, hovering awkwardly and holding onto a shelf for stability as the ship took off.
Pulling out a tiny syringe, Lance turned to Lotor. “This is a temporary heat suppressant. It should help you keep your heat at bay until we get to Altea. Then… well, there are good doctors there. They can help you.”
Lotor accepted the syringe and carefully injected its contents into himself, handing the empty syringe back to Lance afterwards. “Thank you, although I am not certain that the medical route of dealing with this would be ideal under the circumstances. The fact that I am bonded now will make this much worse if I try to stay apart from Keith.”
Lance looked rather chagrined, but he nodded in agreement before he took the used syringe over to the waste disposal area on the other side of the cargo hold, still within earshot.
When Lotor turned his attention to Keith, he found him looking away, face set in an unreadable expression. “Please, Keith, do not mistake my attitude for ungratefulness,” he said quickly, leaning forward in the hopes of catching his eye. “You saved me. However we proceed from here, know that I will always appreciate what you just did for me.”
After a moment, Keith met his gaze, and his expression softened. “I know I’m not the one you wanted.”
“I will admit that is true…” Lotor’s voice was careful, measured, as he considered every word. “However, our bond will not prevent me from marrying Lance as planned unless you try to stop me. Polyamory is legal on Altea, is it not? You can still take whomever you wish as a second mate, and if our relationship ends up being completely utilitarian, it will be no loss to either of us.”
Keith hesitated, then nodded, lips pressed together in a resigned expression.
Lotor looked at him carefully, examining the tension written in every line of his body. There was something else here, something more. “Or,” he ventured, “perhaps we could make the most of this. After all, I find you to be an attractive individual, and we have usually gotten along well anytime we happened to interact.” He inhaled, intending to say more, but he found himself hesitating.
Lance came back over to rejoin Lotor and Keith, and Lotor’s attention immediately went to him, trying to gauge what he thought of the situation. The young diplomat’s bright blue eyes were flickering between Lotor and Keith, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. As he met Lotor’s gaze, however, a moment of understanding passed between them, and Lance nodded with one more glance to Keith, smiling softly in approval.
Emboldened, Lotor looked to Keith again and continued, “Altea’s acceptance of polyamory does allow for an interesting opportunity. Provided that you are amenable to the idea, why should we not at least give this a try? You and I having a relationship would not at all interfere with my relationship with Lance.”
Keith’s gray eyes were wide yet unreadable as he held Lotor’s gaze. A moment passed, then another, before he finally said, “I wouldn’t be against that. I never really…” His gaze faltered, flickering to the ground. “I didn’t think about you that way before, but you’re… pretty, yeah. And we do get along well. I think it might make things complicated in other ways, though, but…”
Lotor exchanged another look with Lance, both wearing matching expressions of interest and confusion. What was Keith getting at? There was something missing here. Come to think of it, Keith hadn’t once looked at Lance since they’d come onboard the ship. What if…?
“Keith,” Lance said gently, beating Lotor to it, “are you attracted to me ?”
The bodyguard turned his head away, but he did not verbally deny it, which was answer enough.
A slow smile spread across Lance’s face. “Gods of Altea, Keith, I had no idea. I’ve always thought you were pretty cute, but I just never really gave it any serious thought. But hey, if you’re mates with my fiance now, there’s no reason why you and I couldn’t be a thing, right?”
Keith finally, finally looked at Lance again. He seemed apprehensive, but also just a little bit hopeful. “I don’t want you to do this out of obligation.”
“Pff, I’d never offer to date someone out of obligation ,” Lance said dismissively. “Nah, I really mean it. You’re cute, this whole situation is complicated anyways , so hey, why not? If it doesn’t work out, we can break up later. It’s not like you and I are signing some kind of life bond contract. Just don’t bite me until we’re sure, and there won’t be any problems.”
Keith still looked a little apprehensive, but after an encouraging nod from Lotor, he sighed and said, “Yeah. I mean, that would… be nice, yeah.”
“Excellent.” Lotor tilted his head back, trying to relax a little for the remainder of the ride. “I should mention, by the way, that Lance and I have been sexually intimate before. If you would not mind, I would appreciate perhaps making this a shared activity for the three of us.”
Lance snickered, and Lotor cracked his eyes open to look at Keith’s flustered expression. “I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Lance quipped.
“Uhhh…” Keith looked rather surprised. “You, uh… I mean… sure?”
“I do not mean to pressure you, of course,” Lotor added quickly. “I merely thought that it may be an ideal arrangement, considering that Lance knows my preferences and limits and could help ensure that I do not agree to something during heat that I would not otherwise.” He frowned a little at the mere idea, but he quickly shook his head to dismiss that concern. “Additionally,” he continued, “I thought that with your admission of attraction to him, perhaps it would make the experience more enjoyable for you as well as for me.”
“And you put no thought into how I’d feel about it, huh?” Lance teased.
Lotor rolled his eyes and gave Lance a knowing a knowing look. “Please, darling, I know you. This is a wet dream come true for you.”
“That’s accurate.”
Keith snorted a little at Lance’s admission, and some of the tension drained away from him. “Sure, sounds good.”
“Good.” Lotor gave him a warm smile. “Come and sit by me.”
Within a moment, Lotor was comfortably seated between his lover and his mate, breathing in the scents of both. The situation was certainly complicated, and all of his careful planning had ended up in a fragmentary mess, but he felt optimistic about this new, unexpected future. Freedom, love, satisfaction – he had everything he was looking for.
