Chapter Text
Diplomacy was a skill better left to people who were already good at it. This is what Keith thought as Lance dragged him out of the new alliance meeting that had gone particularly wrong.
If you asked him, he was completely in the right for how he reacted.
The meeting had started out alright, Pidge presented graphed results of their recent excursions and Galra raids, Allura had tapped into the planet’s history with Altea to bridge a connection for the future. Overall they garnered a bit of support from the council. That was until the King of the planet they were meeting with came into the discussion.
He wasted no time insulting the team and implying several times over that they weren’t capable of saving the universe.
As the leader of Voltron, how was Keith supposed to take that smiling?
So, he got into it with the King, said some things he shouldn’t have, and from there the rest of the meeting just spiraled. Keith was lucky that Lance dragged him away before he could say anything else damaging to Voltron’s reputation.
Now out of the meeting, and out of the planet’s orbit entirely, Keith sat alone in his room reflecting on the events of the day prior.
Maybe he could’ve been kinder with his words. Maybe.
He tossed his knife in the air while considering what he could do to salvage the situation.
They could do what they always do and save the planet the next time they’re in trouble. However there was no telling how long it would take for that to happen. The obvious answer would be going back and apologizing, but Keith didn’t know if the king would even accept that. Not that he wanted to apologize in the first place either.
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated and angry he got. Why was making alliances so difficult? He didn’t know how he was picked to pilot the black lion when he couldn’t even be of use in these negotiations.
The door whooshing open startled him from his thoughts and before he knew it the knife was tossed out of his hand and at the noise.
It flung across the room and lodged itself in the doorframe, next to what Keith now recognized as Lance’s head. The paladin let out a shrill shriek as he jumped to the side, arms reaching up to defend himself from more rouge knives. When no more came, he whipped his head from the knife to Keith.
They locked eyes and Lance let his defense drop. “Yikes, serves me right for not knocking I guess” he laughed nervously as he wrung out his wrists.
“Sorry, you surprised me.”
“I gathered as much,” Lance replied as he dislodged the blade in the door. He walked next to where Keith was working. “You still worked up about the meeting from earlier?” He fiddled with the blade between his hands as Keith looked on.
Keith let out a long hiss of air and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah,” he sighed, “I think I kind of messed up.”
He thought back to the fight he nearly got in with the castles guards on the way out of the building and the childish gloat the King held as they left.
“Phew, glad you said it so I didn’t have to," Lance admitted.
“Hey!”
“I’m just saying! Don’t get me wrong, I may like you now, but your people skills are way lacking dude.” He extended the handle of the blade out for Keith to grab. He took the handle, and with it the opportunity to tease Lance.
“You like me?” he asked while trying and failing to hold back a grin.
“Woah woah,” Lance leapt up to face Keith and waved his hands in front of him. “All I’m admitting is that you are a way better leader than I previously gave you credit for”
“But still, we’ve got to work on this issue of yours if you’re gonna continue leading us,” Lance folded his arms and eyed Keith, seemingly sizing him up.
Keith paused. “We?”
“Yeah, I’m going to help you. I’m your right hand now, literally and figuratively, and with that comes super serious duties.”
Keith looked at him incredulously as he waited for him to continue.
“Like teaching you how to talk to people.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I know it sucks that you’ll have to give up on that one sided beef you have with me and all-“ he put a hand on Keith’s shoulder as Keith made an offended scoff. “But I’m here for you, and I’m gonna help you through this.”
Keith brushed off Lance’s hand and stood to face him at eye level.
“Not that I’m opposed to the ending of your-“ he put emphasis on the word as he poked Lance’s chest, “one sided beef, I don’t get how you’re supposed to help. This is a pretty solitary issue and it’s not like you can do the negotiations for me.”
Though Keith wished that Lance could do the negotiations for him. Sure it might mean sitting through a whole lot of jokes and flirting with potential allies that he would rather not hear, but it would mean he wouldn’t have to be in charge of the discussions anymore. Which if you asked Keith, was a pretty fair trade.
“I can’t do them for you, but I can help you get better with them. I’ll train you!” Lance spoke, his voice edging on excitement.
“Train me? How do you plan on doing that?”
“Well…” Lance said dragging out the word, “that’s a secret. You’ll have to find out if you accept.” He stood there smugly wiggling his eyebrows as Keith processed what was said.
He thought that the little information he was given was a bit of a cop out, but it did spike his interest.
The sound of Hunk calling out from across the ship cut their conversation short. He was in charge of rounding everyone up for group dinner that night so Keith figured they should get a move on.
“I think dinners ready,” Keith supplied.
“Yeah. I meant what I said though, if you’re up for it I’ll give you some tips and train you in the art of talking to people that aren’t your teammates,” Lance offered, and for what it was worth, Keith considered it.
He let out a long groan before folding his arms. It wasn’t like he could get worse at least. “Fine. I guess it couldn’t hurt to try,” he relented and Lance cheered.
“Alright! You better be ready then, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be as fit to negotiate with big wigs as Allura,” he winked and ran off presumably to go find Hunk.
True to his word, Lance went out of his way to prep Keith when he least expected it.
“What is this.”
While walking back to his room the next afternoon, he found Lance had made an arrangement of chairs around a mini table in the center of it. The table was decorated with colorful plates, cups, and pastries, which seemed fresh enough that Hunk must’ve just made them. At the center of it all was a delicate looking teapot with steam drifting from its spout.
“It’s a tea party, haven’t you ever been to one?” he answered.
“Lance, I know what a tea party is. I mean how is this going to help me help Voltron?” he furrowed his brows.
“All important alliance discussions happen over tea, now put your hat on and come sit.”
Around the table were several mismatched chairs hosting stuffed lions. Lance must’ve found them from the pile of gifts the team had received from the last planet they saved. He gestured to an empty chair and in front of it lay what Keith could only assume was the aforementioned hat.
“I’m not putting that on.”
It looked ridiculous. The colors were gaudy, and feathers and frills spilled out of every crevice, making the thing look all too big to fit on a head. It was like an awful combination of what women would wear to the Derby and something even the Mad Hatter would gawk at. When he looked up he saw that Lance was now sporting a similar one.
“Oh come on, be a good sport,” Lance urged him. With the way he was grinning, Keith inferred that the horrible hats were crafted by none other than Lance himself.
“It looks stupid, I’m not wearing that.”
Lance mocked offense and pulled out a small notepad to made a few scribbles. It appeared Keith was being graded.
He waved the pen at Keith before turning serious. “Do you think possible allies are gonna want to talk to you when you don’t even respect their culture?”
“Culture? I wasn’t- this isn’t-“ he stuttered.
Lance shook his head and pointed to the hat and to his own. “You never know what a planet might take seriously. Some crazy stuff might mean a lot to them and have a whole bunch of history behind it. Like these hats,” he said while twirling one of the feathers on his head.
Keith sighed. Leave it to Lance to use silly hats to make up a lesson on cultural assimilation and appreciation. He walked to the seat and placed the silly hat atop his head as he sat down grumbling.
“Great! Now that that’s out of the way, in this scenario I’m going to be Prince Elric of the Marion kingdom. Lovely, gifted, kind and incredibly attractive-“
“I get it Lance, you’re pretty. Get on with it.”
“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “You’ll be Keith. You want to convince me to join the coalition. Now we’ll begin!” he announced. From his seat he began sipping from his teacup and eyeing Keith calculatingly.
“So uh, Prince Elric-“ Keith began but was promptly cut off.
“Isn’t this tea amazing!” Lance boasted. “It’s imported from two planets over, could you believe that?” The paladin put on an air or regality Keith could only describe as comical. He’s never seen Lance’s nose pointed higher.
“No, I couldn’t,” he blanched. “So about the coalition-“
A cup of tea was shoved in his face and his nose was hit with a combination of minty and earthy tones.
“You simply must try it!” Lance trilled. “It’s a mixed blend of native herbs of the Quintez forests, you can’t get it anywhere else.” He seemed to be upping the poshness in his voice the longer he spoke.
Keith pushed the cup away from his face.
“No thanks. I’d rather talk about how Marion and Voltron could work together in the future.“
“Oh yes Marion! Isn’t our planet wonderful? You know I’ve lead it all alone up to this point,” Lance sighed, clearly waiting for a compliment. He batted his eyes for effect and Keith felt his nerves rising the more the man prattled on about himself.
Keith decided to humor him, if anything to get him to shut up quicker. “Yes, it’s incredible,” he said with a deadpan voice.
“That’s why I really don’t think we need Voltron, we’re plenty strong on our own,” he spoke nonchalantly and Keith took it as an opportunity to finally start his pitch.
“Right! Well, I really think that Voltron could offer immense protection in the case of attack,” he hurriedly spoke, afraid of Lance getting a word in before he could finish. “With your support we could ally our forces and-“ he started again, but before he could finish his thought a teacup was pushed back towards his face and he choked on a sip of the tea.
Alright. Now Lance was just being an asshole on purpose.
He shoved the cup away spilling its contents all over the table. “Can you stop with the tea?” he shouted through coughs.
Lance clicked his tongue and pulled out the notepad again. While he scribbled, Keith groaned and got up.
“This is useless. I’m leaving.”
“Wait! Come on, give it one more shot!”
“No, You were right, I’m not good at this. I’ll just focus on our battle plans for the next mission. You and Allura can deal with the alliances, you’re better at it anyways,” he stormed off.
It was only after receiving a weird look from Pidge down the hall that he realized the ridiculous hat was still on his head. He threw it backwards behind him and continued stomping away.