Chapter Text
Sweat clings to Keith’s skin. After living in the desert for several years, Keith thought he was used to unrelenting heat. Only the heat of the western desert paled in comparison to the oppressive, thick humidity that suffocated the air of this alien planet’s atmosphere. In a moment of weakness, Keith thinks he’s dying. The heat is so stifling and viscous that it coats his throat like a layer of slime, and it’s difficult to swallow. The others must feel as miserable as he does because Lance and Hunk are not eager to keep their complaints to themselves.
“How much longer?” Hunk groans from somewhere behind him. “Can’t I take my helmet off? It’s just so hot I can feel the sweat pooling on my head.”
Shiro’s voice cracks through the comms. “We should be there in a few minutes, and it’s far too dangerous to take off our helmets until we’re inside.”
Even Shiro sounds a bit exhausted, which is a rare occurrence, especially when he’s trying to motivate the rest of the team. He leads the group through the dense flora that surrounds them, using his prosthetic hand to slice through the vines that hang down in their path. Keith can only watch his back as he walks behind him, listening to Hunk, Lance, and Pidge shuffle behind him.
“Yeah, Hunk,” Pidge says. Every word that comes blaring through Keith’s comms sends a stabbing wave of pain through his forehead. He wonders if he can change the volume. “Didn’t you listen to Allura’s debrief about this planet at all? The atmosphere is seventy percent carbon dioxide. For comparison, Earth’s is made up of 0.04 percent carbon dioxide. It makes a great environment for plants, but humans? Not so much.”
Keith can practically hear Hunk deflate. “Thanks for the morbid science lesson, Pidge.”
“Anytime.”
Silence falls over the group again as Shiro continues to lead the train of them through the dense jungle-like foliage. It isn’t long before a large structure that resembles a castle comes into view. It isn’t too different from the Castle of Lions, though instead of steel and alloy and combustion engines, it’s made from a singular, gigantic tree. It stands tall, its canopy overtaking most of the jungle around them. Carved from the wood is a grand entrance with intricate detailing along the top. The tangled mess of roots at the base of the tree form what seems to be a spiral staircase. It’s one of the most impressive structures Keith has seen since their time in Olkarion. The perfect blending of technology and nature baffles him, and he knows Pidge must be over the moon by the way they gasp behind him.
“Holy Kaltenecker! Are you guys
seeing
this?” They rush forward, barreling past Keith. He nearly loses his footing, crashing into Shiro’s back as Pidge bounds ahead of the group.
Shiro turns around to steady Keith, concern pinching in his brows, but if he’s worried, he doesn’t say anything. He only keeps a hand on Keith’s shoulder as he calls after Pidge and then turns to the rest of the team. “Alright,” he sighs. “Don’t forget. We’re here to gather allies for the Voltron Alliance. We really can’t afford to screw this one up. The
Harusians
are great engineers and fighters, so they’ll be useful as our allies. Stay focused.”
“Thank you, Paladins of Voltron, for your fierce and persistent effort in fighting back the Galra. Consider the planet of Haruvia your ally in this war to come. May we fight with fervor and dissolve the Galra’s clutch on the universe. Huzzah!” The king exclaims as he raises his cup.
“Huzzah!” The diverse crowd of Harusians cries out in response, thrusting their goblets of nectar in the air. Keith scowls at his own cup before bringing it to his lips
Diplomatic missions are always exhausting. It isn’t that he doesn’t
like
people. That’s a misconception that he feels most of his teammates hold, though he can’t blame them. He’s abrasive at times, though he really does
enjoy
the company of those he trusts. The issue with diplomatic missions is that half of the interactions he has with these aliens go askew because of his remarked inability to connect with people, especially strangers with different customs.
It seems to come to Shiro so easily. Keith’s not sure if it’s because of his time spent in space as a Galran captive, learning about and speaking with the other prisoners held in the fighting pits, or if Shiro’s just such a naturally gifted leader and diplomat that it extends to all alien races. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. Even at the Garrison, Shiro exuded an assured strength just by entering a room. His leadership was never overbearing nor uncontrolled as if Shiro always knew the right things to say to help people feel at ease. People followed Shiro like moths drawn to a flame, Keith included.
Keith’s not sure if he’s jealous or in awe, but he’s thankful nonetheless that he’s managed to finesse the deal with the Harusians. They are a fickle species of aliens, with their raging tempers and bellies full of nectar, but Shiro, as always, entered the deal with a clear head and got the job done. Now for the party. He doesn’t understand why there always has to be these parties after these diplomatic missions, but they offer a moment of peace after the tension of sorting out these deals. Keith wants to at least
try
to relax.
The king, dawning a deep crimson robe with sharp spikes along the shoulders, approaches the five of them. He steps in front of Shiro, a grin spreading across his gray face as he extends his four arms out to fan across the room. In front of them sits a long, thin runner table with an assortment of strange drinks and finger foods along with it.
“Please, Paladins. Enjoy the feast we have prepared for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Hunk grins as he breaks their small formation, heading straight towards the goods. Lance and Pidge are hot on his tail, Lance yelling something incoherent about calling dibs on something. Keith remains standing at Shiro’s side, his helmet tucked under his left arm. He can feel Shiro glance at him from the corner of his eye.
“Is everything okay?” Shiro asks, circling around Keith until he’s standing in front of him. Keith can’t help the harsh, nauseating sensation of Deja Vu. The words, the tone of Shiro’s voice, the concerned crease in his brow all remind Keith of the nights before he found out about his heritage before he awoke his blade. There had been so much weighing on his mind then, and Shiro, being as perceptive as he is, picked up on it. Now, however, Keith just feels annoyed. The heat of this planet is intense, even seeping through the walls of the large tree. It had been worse during their hike from their landing zone, but it still lingers on his skin like a disgusting film.
He swallows his nerves, offering Shiro a weak smile. It’s genuine. “I’m fine, Shiro. I think the heat just might be getting to me a bit.”
Shiro returns the smile, clapping a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I hear you. We’ll be able to leave soon, but you know the drill with these parties. C’mon, let’s go eat. I say we’ve earned it.”
Keith’s not exactly eager to try another round of foreign alien cuisine that’ll likely leave his stomach in knots, but he hasn’t eaten all day, and with the exhaustion of the heat weighing on him, he’s ravenous. He nods and follows Shiro towards the table, joining Hunk, Lance, and Pidge. Hunk’s cheeks are round like a chipmunk with the number of hor’dourves he’s consuming at once. His eyes water with tears of joy as he swallows it all down, but he perks up when he spots Keith.
“Keith, you gotta try this,” he insists, taking what looks like a small pink flower between his fingers. He hands it to Keith, who inspects it with narrowed eyes.
It’s some small blossoming flower, not too different from the brightly colored ones he spotted on their trek towards the castle, but the squishy texture beneath his fingers tells him it’s some kind of a pastry. Hunk hands Shiro one as well, who pops it in his mouth with a content hum. His eyes brighten as he chews and swallows.
“Wow, that’s incredible,” Shiro beams, reaching for another one. There are three large, silver plates full of them on the table, spread out as if it’s the centerpiece. Pidge lingers next to Lance, holding one of the flowers in their hands as they happily chew. Lance doesn’t have his attention set on the pink flowers, but rather is sipping at his goblet as he scans the selection of food, struggling to decide what to indulge himself in next.
The King must be nearby because he suddenly steps up to the group and takes notice of the pink flowers they’re enjoying. A bright smile overcomes his lips as he clasps his many, many fingers together. “I see you’ve found our delectable Haruvas-- the flower for which our planet is named. They’re quite beautiful and only found on our planet’s surface. They’re quite amazing, serving as both a beautiful display of life
and
a delicious treat.” As if to prove his point, he plucks one of the flowers up and tosses it in his mouth. “It’s protected our planet for centuries with its special properties. Truly a work of wonder.”
“They’re delicious,” Hunk beams. “Thank you so much. But… special properties? What’s that supposed to mean?”
The alien mulls over the question for a moment. “I’m afraid the secrets of the Haruva Flower are for the Harusians and the Harusians alone. I hope you can understand.”
Shiro steps in this time, bowing his head to the King as a sign of respect-- just as the King had done to them as they stepped up to the front gates. “Of course, your highness. Thank you again for your hospitality. These truly are delicious.”
The Black Paladin’s charms must win over the King, yet again because his face brightens and he claps one of his many hands against Shiro’s back. “The pleasure is mine! Enjoy! Eat! I must talk to my council, but I shall be back.” With that, the King sauntered away and disappeared into the crowd.
Keith returns his attention to the flower in his hands. Hesitantly, he brings it to his lips and takes a bite. It melts in his mouth, the texture similar to cotton candy back on Earth. He’s only ever had the sweet treat a few times, but the taste and consistency is one that he can’t easily forget. However, it’s far too sweet. So sweet that his face screws up with discomfort and his throat starts to burn. He coughs, burying his mouth and nose into the crook of his elbow as he struggles to swallow it down.
“Keith! Are you okay?” Shiro’s back at his side, hitting Keith in the square of his back with the heel of his human hand. The hits are forceful, and it does little to ease the tightening of his throat, but Keith gives him points for trying. Once the coughing fit has passed, Keith straightens up, feeling shaky all over. Shiro nudges Keith’s elbow, silently urging him to take a sip of his nectar. He complies, allowing the cool liquid to ease the itch and burn at the base of his throat. Keith shudders, sucking in a sharp breath.
“You swallow wrong, Mullet?” Lance asks, and Keith realizes that the other Paladins are surrounding him now, all of them with varying amounts of concern written all over their faces. Shiro’s the most concerned, with Lance falling on the opposite end of the spectrum as he raises an eyebrow at Keith. The Blue Paladin’s lips are pursed as if another jab or insult is buffering there.
“I’m fine,” Keith breathes, and his voice sounds as if he just finished gargling glass. It feels like it too. The half-eaten flower is still clutched in his hands, so he shoves it back into Hunk’s grip as he wipes at his mouth with his hand. “That’s disgusting, Hunk. Is this some kind of a joke?”
Hunk stares at him as if his heart’s been torn in two, and a flicker of guilt rests in Keith’s chest. “What? You didn’t like it?”
Pidge seems just as confused as they glance between Keith and the tray of flowers on the table. Keith suddenly feels ashamed. It’s stupid because it’s only some stupid alien pastry, but it’s yet another thing that sets Keith apart from the rest of the team. Shiro and everyone else thoroughly enjoyed the treat, and despite the reminiscent taste of cotton candy melting in his mouth, Keith felt like the flower was trying to burn him from the inside out.
“Leave it to Keith to be the one that hates sweets,” Lance taunts, sighing dramatically as he picks up one of the flowers and shoves it whole in his mouth. He chews, humming with content, and Keith’s blood boils; he swears Lance is just trying to rile him up. The worst part is that it’s working. All over some stupid snack.
Shiro ignores Lance’s attempt at a jab. The hand resting in the center of Keith’s back never leaves. “Seriously, are you okay?”
Keith forces himself to nod. “Really, Shiro, I’m fine. It was just really gross.”
That’s really all it was. The burning sweetness was unpleasant, but after washing away the sensation with his goblet of nectar, Keith feels completely normal. Though He doesn’t reach for another flower snack for the rest of the night.
By the time they return to their lions, Keith’s knees feel as if they’re about to fold in. With the sunset behind the horizon of the planet, the heat disappeared and was replaced with a soft nighttime breeze that had everyone sighing with relief. He climbs into Red, and the first thing he notices is a faint purring deep in the back of his mind.
“What’s wrong, kitty?” Keith mutters to himself as he settles into his seat and grasps at the controls. He’s had this strange yet strong connection with the Red Lion for a while. She’s always been fickle and temperamental, but when it comes to Keith she’s fiercely protective, and Keith finds her words curling in the back of his mind even outside of battle.
Sometimes when he’s still in his room in the Castle of Lions, he can hear her rumbling and feeding vague sensations of comfort and warmth into his head. But she only ever reaches out to him like this when something is wrong. More often than not, her reassurances came after he wakes from nightmares, trapping in the darkness of his own head. Right now, however, he feels pretty good save for the sweat still clinging to his skin and a faint prickling sensation at the back of his throat. It’s strange Red is reaching out now, but her rumbling eventually stops as the five of them take off and enter orbit, so he pushes it from his mind.
The Castle suspends just out of reach of Haruvia’s gravitational pull, so they arrive just a few short moments from taking off. Keith lands in Red’s hangar, running the broad expanse of his palm against her dashboard. It’s comforting to him, somehow. She continues to purr deep in the back of her mind, and Keith is overwhelmed with a sudden, suffocating feeling of worry and dread. It isn’t his own, but rather it’s a feeling that Red is pumping into his brain like fog.
“
Paladins. Meet me on the bridge.”
Shiro’s voice jolts through the comms like static.
“We need to debrief before we turn in for the night.”
Keith groans. There’s a dull pain thrumming beneath the bases of his temples, and his patience is running exceedingly low. The last thing he wants or needs is to recount the entire night to Allura and Coran, but if he hangs back and bites his tongue, he’ll be able to retreat to his room sooner or later.
He climbs from Red’s cockpit, taking off his helmet before heading back up to the Castle’s bridge. He’s the last one there, Allura standing at her podium as Coran, Shiro, and the others huddle at the base of it. Coran’s face brightens as he sees Keith stagger in.
“Number four, good to see you,” he chimes.
Keith nods at the royal advisor before stepping in line with Lance, who’s standing on the outskirts of the group. The Blue Paladin casts a glance towards Keith, but he doesn’t try to decipher it. He’s far too tired.
They must’ve been waiting for him, and for some reason, embarrassment burns in Keith’s face. He doesn’t have much time to linger on it for too long, because Shiro starts to recount their day on Haruvia. Keith doesn’t pay much attention; Shiro’s the one who handled most of the deal anyway, so he can’t think of possibly anything intelligent to add.
He spaces out. Or, at least he thinks so because he doesn’t catch onto any words that are said after that, the shapes of the podium starting to bleed into one large blob of gray and blue in his vision. He doesn’t find the energy to be overly concerned about it. The pain drumming beneath his temples only grows worse, turning into a gnawing ache that overtakes his entire skull like some massive bruise. He wants to bring his hands up to massage at his forehead, but he’s not even sure he can move.
“Hey man, you okay?” Reality, sensation, and vision all come back to him in a sudden crash as a firm, warm weight rests on his shoulder. He turns his head to see Lance looking at him, invading his personal space as he presses close to whisper to him. Keith realizes that Shiro and the others are still in the middle of their debrief, but Lance is staring at his face, brows knit together.
Keith rolls his shoulder, shrugging off Lance’s hand. The touch feels like it’s burning him through his armor. He’s getting annoyed quickly, so he has to force himself to keep his voice low. “Why is everyone asking me that? I’m fine. Just tired.”
Lance’s concerned expression doesn’t waver. If anything, it deepens as Lance’s eyes flicker nervously to Shiro’s back before he returns his attention to Keith. The motion is so fast that Keith doesn’t quite catch it. His brain feels like it’s wading through molasses. Even thinking is difficult.
“You’re just lookin’ kinda pale,” the Blue Paladin insists but keeps his voice quiet, which Keith silently appreciates. It doesn’t draw the attention of the others (something Keith wants to avoid at
all
costs), and it doesn’t aggravate the pounding behind Keith’s forehead. “Do you think you might be dehydrated?”
Keith honestly can’t tell if Lance is teasing or genuinely concerned, because at some point Lance’s pure-hearted compliments and teasing jabs all blend together. Keith has a hard enough time deciphering what people mean when they’re blunt and straightforward, so Lance’s constant change in strategy gives Keith whiplash. He wishes the boy would either just be a jerk the entire time or be the kind, caring guy he’s learned that he can be. Keith can’t handle this back and forth.
He shrugs off Lance’s concern. “Probably. Like I said, just tired. I’m gonna crash after this debrief.” With that, he seals his lips with no intention of saying anything else. The throbbing in his skull starts to creep down towards his jaw, and with each passing second, he feels it tightening. He doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Luckily for him, Lance accepts this answer. He steps a foot to the side, leaving Keith enough space to breathe as he refocuses his eyes on Allura and the others. Keith doesn’t spare another glance at him in favor of staring at the ground, at the backs of Shiro’s heels, until the debrief is finally over. They disperse for the night, everyone slinking away from the bridge towards their rooms.
Keith is the first one to flee towards his bedroom, unaware of Lance’s careful eyes staring into his back as he leaves.