Chapter Text
Lance’s mother had warned him when he was barely able to understand that there were bad people in this universe. People who wanted to hurt people like Lance and his family. Of course, he hadn’t understood at the time what she meant. But he knew she was telling the truth, and kept her words of warning in the back of his mind at all times.
Years went by, and Lance began to understand what his mother meant. When he found out not everyone sprouted a fish tail at will, his perception of his mother’s words shifted. She was afraid for them. For her family. Even people on earth could be intimidating, what with their mermaid myths (or so they thought) and their skepticism of anything magical. It wasn’t until Lance joined Voltron that he realized the true reality of the warning he’d grown up hearing.
His people were called the Mer. They hailed from a planet long since decimated by the Galra. See, Mer contained a special kind of quintessence, something that could lead evil to victory if they had enough of it. That’s why the Mer had decided to seek refuge on various watery planets, earth included. They needed to keep their next generations out of the hands of the Galra.
Lance set down the crystalline tablet he was holding, removing cartridge with the information on his people. With nimble fingers, he toyed with the small crystal, contemplating what to do next. He hadn’t exactly meant to stumble upon the record room, but when he had, a small inscription with a picture of his people on it had caught his eye. After figuring out how to use the archives, he found himself absorbed in the rich culture lost from generations on earth.
“What do you have there?” a familiar female voice came from behind Lance. He startled around, hiding the crystal with his ancestral writings.
“Allura! Why, princess, I just couldn’t sleep. But you know, I’m getting a little tired now,” Lance rushed his words out, standing and feigning a long stretch. “Well, gotta go back to bed, see you tomorrow for training!”
Lance tried to push past Allura, only for her to hold up her hand and effectively block his path. “Lance. I can see you’re hiding a memory crystal.”
“I— I’m not!” Lance lied.
“Come on. Give it up. These are precious stones that have been preserved for thousands of years. They are not to be taken from this room.”
“Fine,” Lance sighed, hanging his head and handing Allura the small stone.
She turned it over in her hand, startling when she saw the inscription. “Why, you’ve found a rather dangerous one, haven’t you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Allura walked past Lance, returning the small crystal to its spot amongst the others. “The Mer are not to be spoken of, unless we are to come across one.”
“Why?” Lance asked, curiosity tethering him to the room and to Allura’s words.
“Well, they’re simply too dangerous. A single Mer could power an army of Galra tech,” Allura explained.
“So what would we do if we found one? Or…or knew where a refuge camp was?” Lance pondered, unease settling in his gut.
“Simple.” Allura set the crystal down with a definitive thud, turning pointedly back to Lance. “We would have to exterminate all Mer we may come across. They cannot fall into the hands of Zarkon.”
Lance staggered back, nearly knocking over a shelf of other memory crystals. “Oh! Ok. Well, that answers all my questions. I should be getting back to bed.”
“But Lance—“ Allura began.
“Goodnight, princess!”
The walk back to his quarters was long and miserable. Lance studied his hands, flexing thin fingers and remembering how they looked when he was in his most natural form. Without meaning to, he triggered a touch of his transformation, shining blue flesh growing between each finger and creating a webbed effect. He started back, willing his aquatic nature to return to that of his mammalian side. Soon enough, his hands were back to normal, though Lance was extremely distracted and didn’t notice he was walking around the corner and right into a fellow paladin.
“Watch it,” Keith muttered after they collided. Lance looked up at his sworn rival, hands thrown behind his back.
“Yeah. Ok. Uh…sorry. It won’t happen again.”
With that, Lance slid past Keith and rushed to his own living quarters. He flopped down on his back, the bed flexing uncomfortably under his weight. That night was spent sleeplessly kicking and tossing and turning. At breakfast, Lance was a sliver of his usual grandiose, and apparently, it was noticeable.
“Buddy, you’re not eating your food. You’re just…” Hunk thought for a moment, “staring at it. What’s wrong?”
Lance looked up from his bowl of food goo, blinking once before forcing a brilliant smile onto his face. “Oh! I just, you know, didn’t sleep that great. No biggie.”
“Absolutely yes a ‘biggie’,” Allura chimed in, swallowing her own bite of food. “I found you lurking around the archives late last night, looking at a particularly dangerous crystal. Any chance that has to do with your recent sleeplessness?”
All attention turned to Lance, who couldn’t help the slight glare he shot Allura. “Thanks, princess, for bringing that up.”
“What was he looking at?” Pidge prodded, their tone hinting at a soon to be told joke.
Allura beat them to it, though, coming in with a complete mood-changer. “There’s a legend of people called the Mer. They are very powerful, specifically to those who wish to exploit the quintessence they carry. The Galra were close to capturing the lot of them, but they dispersed as refugees before they had the chance.”
“Ah, yes,” Coran chimed in. “That’s a rather fanciful tale if I’ve ever heard one. Some say the blood of a single living Mer has enough quintessence to power most of the Galra tech out there.” Coran turned to look at Lance, expression drawn close. “So what exactly were you doing looking at those archives?”
“Aah…you see…” Lance trailed off, unable to find the right words to continue.
Luckily, Lance didn’t have to continue, as Shiro joined the conversation, realization dawning on him. “We have a legend, back on earth, about people called mermaids. They have fish tails and human upper halves, and are said to have a deadly siren’s song. You don’t think…?”
“Oh, that could be them!” Allura exclaimed. Suddenly, Lance found himself very uncomfortable, though nobody seemed to notice. “Yes, they’re said to sing a song that can lure in even the strongest of travelers. They walk the land and swim the sea, uninhibited and dangerous.”
“Should we go back to earth?” Hunk asked. “See if it’s really them, or just a coincidence?”
“No, no,” Allura waved her hand in front of her face. “That would be silly. So long as Zarkon doesn’t get ahold of this information, we should be just fine.”
“So it’s settled then,” Pidge looked at Lance as they spoke. “You should leave all this alone, and we can move on.”
Despite himself, Lance couldn’t help but grind out exactly what he was thinking. “She didn’t tell you everything.”
All eyes turned to him, and Lance couldn’t help but revel in it. Hunk cleared his throat, setting down his spoon and turning full attention to his friend. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Lance muttered, “that Allura said we should kill any Mer we might come across.”
The attention quickly turned to Allura, who looked around slowly. “Yes,” she relented after a few moments, “it’s true. I simply wish to keep them out of the hands of Zarkon. Besides, the swift death we could offer would be far better than one at the hands of the Galra.”
Lance stood from the table, the screeching of his chair pushing back deafening. “You know what we call that on earth? We call that a genocide. Eliminating an entire race of people just because they could be dangerous is…it’s evil!”
“I beg your pardon?” Allura’s tone hardened as she stood to be at Lance’s level.
“You heard me.” Lance’s words were accentuated as he leaned over the table, palms down on the smooth white surface. “It’s evil. And if you were to do anything like that, it would be evil.”
“You don’t understand—“ Allura tried to speak.
“You’re right,” Lance interrupted, turning his back on his friends. “I don’t.”
With that, Lance walked out of the dining hall, his food completely untouched. He wove through the winding halls, ending up in the unoccupied training deck. He threw himself down on one of the mats on the floor, staring up at the glowing blue ceiling. Closing his eyes, he could almost imagine he was back home, on the shores of Cuba, basking under the sunlight.
“Lance?” a very familiar, and very annoying, voice sprang forth from the entrance.
Lance turned his head to look at Keith, who held an unreadable expression. “What do you want?”
Keith pursed his lips, silently walking across the deck towards Lance. Upon reaching him, he sat down, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. “How long?”
“How long what?” Lance asked, suddenly incredulous in nature. “Don’t you know I’m in a bad mood? Go screw off and, I don’t know, mope somewhere, why don’t you.”
“First of all,” Keith rolled his eyes, “I don’t mope. You’re actually the one doing that.”
“Hey—!”
“And second,” Keith continued, “I was asking how long you’ve known you were one of them.”
Lance stiffened, sitting up straight and turning his body towards Keith. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do,” Keith smirked his words out. “So are you going to answer me? Or should I keep speculating.”
“Speculate away.” Lance turned away from his fellow paladin, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re one of these Mer, and now you’re learning you’re in danger. Starting to sound familiar?”
“Nope.”
“Ok,” Keith sighed, “I’ll keep going. You’re also protecting your family back on earth.”
When Keith pulled the family card, Lance couldn’t help but turn back to him, tears brimming in his eyes. “How did you know?”
“I, uh, saw your hands yesterday,” Keith muttered awkwardly. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid for who you are. It’s not fair.”
“You’re right,” Lance chuckled wetly. “It’s not fair. I mean, you get to be Galra and I can’t even—“
“Hold on,” Keith stopped Lance. “I get to be Galra? What does that even mean?”
“I just mean, you’re Galra and people have gotten used to it. They’ll never get used to me because—“ Lance’s voice broke, “because I’m a liability. If Zarkon gets me, he could— he’d—“
What Keith did next surprised Lance to no end; he reached out and hugged him, drawing him close. Lance could feel his heart beating close to his, and strangely, he let himself sink into the feeling.
“You’ll be alright,” Keith’s voice rumbled against Lance’s body. “I promise you.”
“Ok.” Lance sank into the embrace. “Ok.”