Work Text:
The planet Thysiram wasn't very big: it could easily fit inside Earth with a good bit of leg room. Its clouds were pastel pink, like a permanent sunset, its forests green and lush. It would have been a pleasant place to take a vacation on, Shiro supposed. However, they certainly weren't there for a vacation, they were there for diplomacy: those few planets that the Galra hadn't reached or had overlooked needed to be tempted into the Voltron Alliance somehow. Which meant going down and talking to the inhabitants, whoever they might have been. When it was a job like this, then Allura usually went with them, and she was damn persuasive. Of course, Shiro already knew this, and the thought made him raise his hand to his mouth, hiding his smile behind a charade of pensiveness.
He glanced over at Allura. He should have been professional about this, but sometimes looking at your girlfriend's ass while she was wearing something dangerously form-fitting was almost too hard to resist.
“Any information on the inhabitants, Coran?” she asked, and he quickly looked away, back to the screens.
“I believe civilisation only developed on this planet after we went into cryostasis, Princess,” Coran replied. “We have nothing in the database. So it'll be a surprise! Keep you on your toes. We don't want your improvisation skills to get rusty!”
“What if they're hostile?” Hunk whimpered, his hands up by his face like they always were when he got worried.
“They shouldn't be, they accepted our communications well enough,” Shiro said, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. Hunk didn't look reassured.
It turned out Thysiram's inhabitants were the usual humanoid shape that was popular across the universe, except they had large eyes, mottled skin in a vast array of colours, flat noses and killer cheekbones. Also... they all seemed to be women.
Lance clenched his fist with an expression of intense suffering that rivalled some renditions of Jesus on the cross. “So many alien babes,” he moaned, “and I can't flirt with any of them!”
Keith punched him in the arm, before turning away, arms folded, to sulk.
“Behave!” Allura hissed at them, and they stood almost to attention as the six of them waited for the doors to the palace to open.
The first thing they were greeted with was a hall, and at the end of it, there was a throne. The hall itself, its colour a bright, well-lit white, was draped with gauzy, multicoloured curtains that drifted gently in the breeze from upper windows. The whole place was like a hybrid between Ancient Greek and fantasy sci-fi.
Allura lead the way, head held high, in full Altean Diplomat mode. She bowed when she reached the throne, and the others followed suit, although the throne's occupant didn't seem all that impressed.
The woman sitting there (at least, Shiro assumed she was a woman – he was ready to amend the pronouns whenever he found out what they were), green-skinned, clad in red and wielding a cross between a sceptre and a spear, peered down at them haughtily before rising from her seat. Shiro caught Lance's eyebrows rising, and he shot him an admonishing glare.
“I bid you welcome to Thysiram, strangers,” the woman said, her voice echoing around the hall. “I am Queen Sadiri, and this is my court.” She swept her arm around the people gathered, and Shiro noticed that, once again, they all appeared to be women. He wasn't alarmed – a species with no sexual dimorphism wouldn't be too weird. Humans weren't the blueprint for everything else.
“I accept your welcome, Your Majesty,” Allura said. Her voice is warmer, than the Queen's, but no less imposing. “I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the Paladins of Voltron!” She eyed Shiro, and he knew he needed to step forward and bow himself – as the Black Paladin, he was only a step below Allura herself.
“I too accept your welcome, Your Majesty,” he said, relieved Allura taught him exactly what to say before they landed. “We are honoured and humbled to be your guests.”
Queen Sadiri seemed satisfied, and sat back down, even though there was a sudden buzz of chatter rippling through the courtiers. Shiro glanced up, feeling eyes on him, and he noticed the Queen was staring at him, calculating, almost... hungry. He shivered.
“A banquet will be prepared!” she said. “We will show you Thysiram's hospitality!”
To Shiro's surprise, they were separated: Allura and Pidge were led off to one part of the palace, and him and the boys to another. The guard leading them wasn't especially talkative, even as he casually enquired after the other two. Instead of answers, he just got a silencing glare.
She opened a door, gestured them brusquely in, and Shiro winced.
“Not what I expected,” Hunk remarked.
It was cramped. The walls were grey and dreary, there were two bunk beds, and while the sheets looked crisp and clean, there were no silks and damasks here. There was one window, which looked onto, of all things, stables with six-legged, vaguely horse-like things. There was a distinct aroma of horse coming in, and Shiro quickly shut the window again, wrinkling his nose. The bathroom didn't have a door separating it from the main room, and was barely at Earth standards.
Lance was physically recoiling, standing, rigid, in the middle of the room as he might get a disease from touching anything. Keith rolled his eyes.
“It could be worse,” he said, immediately claiming one of the top bunks for himself. Lance scowled.
“That's because you lived in a goddamned shack in the desert,” he said. He poked at one of the pillows as if he was afraid it might bite him.
“I will concede that,” Keith said, settling down with his arms behind his head. “It's not bad.” He wriggled a bit. “Comfy. Ish.”
Shiro was still by the window, hands on his hips, frowning. He had a feeling there was a distinct disparity between their arrangements and Pidge and Allura's.
“I'm going to find Allura,” he said. “Don't get into trouble.”
By the time he was at the door and had turned around to admonish them, Lance had already thrown a pillow at Keith, Hunk handing him another. The two froze, attempting innocent looks that wouldn't have fooled a blind person. Shiro sighed.
“Why do I even bother?” he wondered, eyes going to the heavens.
The palace wasn't too difficult to navigate, so finding his way to the other wing where he saw Allura and Pidge wasn't exactly an arduous task. He nodded a cursory greeting to a guard and continued on his way, only to be grabbed by the back of his collar and slammed into the floor. He opened his eyes to a spear at his throat.
“Why are you here, male!?” she demanded.
He raised his hands in surrender, doing his damnedest to resist the urge to light up his right hand and cut clean through the weapon pointed at him. Diplomatic missions tended to go south rather quickly when that happened.
“I'm just looking for Princess Allura,” he said. “I need to talk with her.”
“Males are required to stay in their quarters!” the guard snarled.
“Well, then, it would have been nice to be informed of that rule,” he said. “I'm literally just here to talk to the Princess.”
The guard's eyes narrowed, her face a mask of suspicion, her grip on the spear tightening.
“Shiro!”
He breathed a sigh of relief when Pidge appears. The guard immediately stood to attention, which didn't stop Pidge from glaring at them.
“What the hell?” they demanded, as Shiro got to his feet.
“The male was trespassing,” the guard supplied. Pidge just gave them a look of complete incredulity.
“Whatever,” they muttered. “Come on, Shiro.”
Shiro quickly followed, unwilling to end up in any other confrontations with overzealous guards, and as he looked behind him, the guard's expression was sour.
“Were you looking for Allura?” Pidge asked as they turn the corner.
“Well, yes, but I need to speak to both of you.”
“I can't believe she did that,” Pidge said, rolling their eyes. “You're the Black Paladin!”
Shiro shrugged, unable to give them an answer. Pidge knocked on a door, and Allura opened it. Shiro's eyes widened, and his breath became a little short.
She was wearing the traditional dress of the planet, similar to what Queen Sadiri and her courtiers wore. It was little more than draped silk and chiffon, pinned in strategic places, in shimmering hues of blue and purple, only given shape by a latticed belt at her waist. It left her shoulders and collarbone exposed, and he just wanted to brush his knuckles over her soft, warm skin, move her hair and leave kisses all over what he could reach.
“Is something wrong?”
He blinked. “Uh...”
“Yeah, there's something wrong!” Pidge said, barging into Allura's room and throwing themselves onto a chaise, arms folded angrily. “Shiro got attacked by a guard when he came looking for you!”
Allura shut the door then turned to Shiro, frowning in puzzlement. “Really?”
Shiro nodded, folding his own arms. “She said I was trespassing, and that the others and I have to stay in our own quarters. Which, I have to say, are a lot less fancy than these are.”
Allura's room was decidedly larger, better lit and a lot more richly decorated: there were sheer drapes and intricate lanterns and large, palm-like plants. The whole place was scented with flowers, and there was even a balcony.
He had to tear his eyes away from the huge, round bed. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about anything to do with the two of them and that bed.
“Is it bad?” Allura asked, heading over to sink into the chair opposite Pidge's chaise. It took Shiro a moment for his brain to reconnect once he noticed the split in her dress, showing off a long, brown leg. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes before looking pointedly at a spot somewhere over Allura's left shoulder.
“It not even half the size of this. And we're sharing. Bunk beds. And one bathroom.” He couldn't help the displeased tone from creeping into his voice. Pidge made a face.
“That's unacceptable!” Allura said. “You are the Paladins of Voltron, the Defenders of the Universe!”
Pidge adjusted their glasses, lips pursed in thought. “Do you think... it has something to do with the fact they're guys?”
Shiro sucked in a breath. “Are gender politics as prickly in space as they are on Earth?” he asked.
Allura stroked her chin. “Nearly all the peoples I've encountered have been entirely equal in their gender roles,” she said carefully. “However, this is a young civilisation. It's possible that they operate on a matriarchal system with binary gender instead of a neutral one. Come to think of it... I haven't seen a single male since we arrived.”
“Yeah, well.” Pidge sounded quite sour. “I'm not a girl. Or a guy. Where are they gonna put me when they find that out? Besides... My room is nice, but it's not fair on you guys. I'm gonna see if they'll move me.” They got up, clapping their hands, looking determined. The determination changed, however, turning sly. “And I'll leave you two alone!” They added, shooting a finger gun as they ducked out the door, gone before Shiro could reprimand them.
Shiro's face reddened. “Damn that kid,” he muttered. Allura merely giggled, rising from her seat and stepping closer to him, running a hand across his waist, fingers settling on his belt.
“I don't know, I'm rather grateful,” she murmured, lashes lowered, smirking. Shiro's eyebrows rose.
“Inappropriate, Princess,” he said, but his hands still went to her sides, shifting the loose fabric. “You look beautiful.”
He saw the tips of her ears go pink, and he kissed one, just to hear her breath hitch. It never took much to get her lips on his, to get her hands on him, and he had to admit that that bed was looking extremely inviting just then.
The knock on the door was the biggest disappointment he'd had that week. They pulled apart from each other, both wearing identical expressions of disappointment, and Allura let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Yes?” she called.
The door opened, and what Shiro presumed was some sort of attendant stood there. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of something coming out, she merely stared at Shiro. He'd never seen someone look so afraid of him.
“Can I help you?” Allura asked.
The attendant covered her mouth with her hands. “Your Highness... there is a male...” Her finger trembled as she pointed at Shiro.
Allura looked from the attendant to Shiro, and back again. “I am aware,” she said. “He is here with my permission.” She was trying, Shiro could tell, to be as patient and calm as she could.
The attendant didn't seem entirely reassured – her eyes never left Shiro even as she announced that the banquet was soon to start, in ten nashin (which, Shiro guessed, was the Thysiraman equivalent of minutes). She then quickly left, backwards, as if Shiro would attack her as soon as she looked away. The door closed.
“What a bizarre girl,” Allura said. “Would you like to use the bathroom?”
“I should get back to the others before they destroy our room and actually give them an excuse to murder us,” Shiro said wearily. “I'll keep until tomorrow. See you at the banquet.”
Allura gave him one last kiss, soft and pleasant, before pulling back and heading to her dresser to do something intricate and inexplicable with her hair.
As soon as Shiro got back to their room, Hunk threw his arms around him with a dramatic sob.
“Thank God you're back,” he said. “All they've done is bicker. I'm not sure whether they're gonna make out or kill each other.”
Inside, Keith and Lance were on the top bunk of each bed: Lance was pointing accusingly, and Keith was glaring. Shiro had no idea what they were arguing about, and he didn't really care; he'd seen them fight enough to last him a lifetime.
“Break it up, you two,” he barked, and to his relief they both did. “I've got news.”
The tale was short, but by the end, all three of them were confused.
“So, like, we're kept here because we're men?” Keith asked. “That's just...”
“Insane?” Lance provided. “You know, I'm kind of glad I didn't turn on the charm. I don't exactly want to die because I hit on someone.”
“It would actually make getting handcuffed to a tree and having your Lion stolen less embarrassing,” Keith quipped.
“Listen, mullet-”
“Guys, less fighting, more unity!” Shiro snapped. Both Lance and Keith looked at the floor guiltily with mumbled “yessir”s. Shiro sighed. “Listen, we need to stick together right now. That means no bickering. I can't read this situation, I don't know where it's going and neither does Allura. We all have to stay alert, because we're walking on eggshells. Also... I get top bunk, Lance. Move your ass.”
“Why not Keith?” Lance complained.
“Fair point. Keith, move your ass.”
“But, Shiro-!”
“Just do it.”
Ten nashin, as Hunk calculated, came and went. Shiro frowned. The banquet must have started by now, and no one had told them, or come to collect them. Allura wouldn't stand for a slight like this, and he knew it, and more importantly neither would he.
He opened the door, just as a guard did. It was the one who'd accompanied them earlier, and she didn't look happy to still be dealing with them.
“You, Black Paladin,” she said, pointing at him. “You are summoned to the banquet.”
“Just me?” he asked, confused. The guard looked at him as if he was stupid.
“Of course only you,” she said. “Why would the Queen care about those?” She referred to Hunk, Lance and Keith as if they were something unpleasant she'd found taking her dog for a walk. Keith immediately raised himself off the bed, mouth open, ready to argue, but he hesitated when Shiro motioned for him to stay put.
“Can you at least get them something to eat, then?” he said. She sneered at him.
“I am no servant,” she said.
“I didn't say you had to get it for them directly.”
“No woman of Thysiram waits on males,” she said. “They should have brought their own food.”
Shiro's eyebrows drew together. “So much for the Queen's hospitality,” he said coldly. The guard's eyes widened, and for a moment, Shiro felt like she would strike him, or at least attempt to. His body thrummed, ready for the attack, but it never came.
“Very well,” the guard said stiffly. “I will have food sent to them. Now, come.”
She turned on her heel and started off down the hallway.
“I'm sorry, guys,” Shiro said, before hurrying after her.
As he'd suspected, the banquet hall was already full by the time he got there, and as soon as he set foot in the room, all eyes were on him, some hostile, some appraising him like he was a piece of meat. Their gazes sent a chill up his spine, a familiar feeling of complete and utter helplessness creeping over him, dark thoughts surging up to the surface of his mind: cheering and jeering - blood - so much blood - a crowd of faceless, bloodthirsty monsters - invisible eyes on him, tearing his skin off, exposing him -
It was a challenge not to stumble as he stared ahead, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He clenched his fists, grit his teeth, and searched for a familiar head of hair along the table. She caught his eyes, and he locked onto them, evening out his breathing, slowing down his heart rate.
By the time he'd been shown to the empty seat on Queen Sadiri's right, he didn't feel like he was about to keel over and be sick, though he probably still looked it. He was sat, thankfully, right opposite Allura, who was giving him a look of extreme concern.
“Shiro,” she started, “are you-”
“So, this is the Black Paladin?” Queen Sadiri had leaned forward enough to almost completely block Allura from his sight. Her chin was rest on her hand, her arm bedecked with bangles. She was looking at him intently, her eyes boring into him, never leaving his face. He felt eerily like he was being sized up by a predator, and he fought not to squirm.
“My name is Shiro , Your Majesty,” he said.
“Oh, he does talk for himself!” the Queen exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight, and the rest of the table laughed. It was decidedly mocking. From what Shiro could see of Allura around the Queen's head, her face was stormy. Pidge, who he now noticed was next to her, looked pretty much the same, their spork bending slightly from how hard they were gripping it. Shiro felt incredibly sorry for them: they'd been forced to wear an outfit similar to Allura's, which Shiro felt might have been a little inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old. They'd tried to compensate with a that didn't match the colour scheme of their outfit, which he suspected was something Allura had found.
“I assure you, Your Majesty, I am more than capable of speaking for myself,” he said. “I also apologise for being late, unfortunately I wasn't informed of the time.”
The Queen laughed. “Weren't you? You must forgive my staff, they can be forgetful, sometimes.”
From that moment forward, the banquet felt like a living hell. Shiro had had people flirt with him before – some welcome, some not at all – but this had to be one of the more harrowing times it had happened. His arm felt dirty from all the times the Queen touched it. She never missed a moment to talk down to him, or mock him in some way, laughing every time. And the way she looked at him, like he was an object...
He clenched his fists, hitched on a bright smile (the fakest he'd ever felt), and reminded himself it was for the mission.
“Dear Princess, sister,” said the Queen finally turning to Allura and allowing him a moment to rest his facial muscles and breathe easy, “you do know it is... customary to bring a gift, as a token of peace?”
Allura smiled, her near-permanent furious look dissolving in the face of diplomatic necessity, clapping her hands.
“Why certainly, Your Majesty! I can assure you that the gift we have brought-”
“Oh, I'm certain I'll love it,” Queen Sadiri said, beaming. She snapped her fingers, and a guard appeared almost out of nowhere. She beckoned the guard down and spoke, quietly, in her ear, too low for Shiro to understand. Opposite him, Allura looked puzzled.
The guard left, and the Queen smiled again, as if the brief interruption had never even happened. “Thank you ever so much, Princess,” she said. Allura's smile, Shiro noticed, was a little weaker than before.
“You're... more than welcome, Your Majesty.”
There were three different dessert courses, Shiro noticed, but he was only offered one. In fact, he'd only been offered one thing for each course, whereas everyone else seemed to be able to pick and choose. Also, he'd been offered far more wine than anyone else, and it was strong, too – his head was a little fuzzy.
“Now,” the Queen said, turning to Allura again. “I'm sure you and the Green Paladin are tired after your journey, and you can't be used to the time cycle of our planet. It is customary for our feasts to last a long time, you may take your leave if you wish.”
Pidge's head was nodding, this was true, but Allura still seemed sharp-eyed and wide-awake.
“That's unnecessary for me, Your Majesty, I assure you, I am fine...”
“I insist,” the Queen said, in a tone like granite that offered no room for protest.
Allura remained straight-backed and unintimidated. “Very well then, Your Majesty. I will accompany the Green Paladin.” She rose, gathered a yawning Pidge easily in her arms, and bid everyone goodnight. Before she left, her eyes met Shiro's, and she looked worried, using adjusting her hold on Pidge as an excuse to hesitate. He gave her the best reassuring smile he could and a thumbs-up, then she was gone, unable to dawdle any longer.
Once she was gone, Shiro found himself with the Queen practically glued to his shoulder, the sounds of merrymaking further down the table getting louder.
“More wine, Black Paladin?” she cooed, pouring it herself instead of beckoning a servant.
“I... really shouldn't...” he said, but she pouted.
“A refusal in my own household?” she said. “Perish the thought. It would be a stain on my hospitality!”
He gulped, but still picked up his cup, taking a sip. It tasted different to the other glasses, thicker, richer, with a weird after-taste... it was only when his head started to swim that he realised what was happening. He couldn't fight it, no matter how hard he tried, and the last thing he felt was his body slumping forward onto the table.
When he finally came to, his brain felt like mush that was slowly pouring out of his ears. He couldn't afford to take a while to get his bearings, however. Survival instincts kicked in, honed by months of constant danger, and he raised himself up and tumbled off the bed.
Bed?
He heaved himself up again, and noticed he was in what looked like a bedchamber. It was even bigger than Allura's had been, and the bed was larger too. He was also wearing only his boxer briefs. He beat down both the tide of panic and the waves of nausea and hauled himself to his feet shakily. He needed to locate his armour and get the hell out of there.
“I see you're awake.”
His head snapped round in the direction of the voice, and he backed away.
Leaning against the doorway to what he assumed was the bathroom, was Queen Sadiri. She was wearing a lot less than what she had been at the banquet, and Shiro felt a little bit sick, though thankfully the important parts were covered.
“I must say,” she said, stalking over to him and circling him like a vulture, “I am extremely pleased with the gift I was given. You will make a fine breeding partner.”
His blood ran cold, and his mouth was sour with the taste of pile. He flinched away when he felt her fingers on the seam where metal met flesh. Only one person he trusted had touched him there since it was implanted, and the idea of someone else, especially someone like this, daring to do that was absolutely sickening.
“Now, don't be like that,” she said, now standing in front of him. “I'm simply intrigued.” She chuckled, and it was a horrible sound. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you were the best offering. The other three are decidedly lacklustre, especially the fat one.”
Disgust was replaced by anger, on Hunk's behalf most of all. “We're not your goddamn playthings!” he snarled.
She didn't like him back-answering, it seemed, because her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I would watch your mouth, breeding stock,” she said. “On the bed.”
He raised his chin defiantly, but didn't move another muscle. She didn't like that, either.
She was strong, almost as strong as Allura, and his body was still a few seconds slower than what his muscle memory wanted it to do. She had him pinned, his Galra arm bent over his back, pressed down by her knee, one hand yanking his other arm back in a way that if she tugged, his shoulder would pop out of its socket, and the other hand pressed his face into the tiles.
“Defy me again and you will regret it,” she hissed, abhorrently reptilian. She summoned guards, and they hauled him away, to a room with no windows and no furniture, with only a sliver of a grate in the door.
Immediately, his mind when into overdrive: memories, shattered, sharp-edged like glass, began gouging painfully at his brain. A pitch dark cell – the sound of breathing – his own or something else's? - being hauled out – and thrown back in – trapped with only his mind for company – cornered like a rat – unable to sleep because of that breathing -
He slid down the wall and curled in on himself, unsure whether his eyes were open or closed, the darkness so intense.
Elsewhere in the palace, Allura was pacing up and down, biting her thumb with worry. She'd brought Pidge to her own room, not trusting the denizens of the palace enough to leave them alone, and the child was sleeping soundly on the bed.
She'd been worried ever since Shiro had been late to the banquet. When he'd appeared without the others, she knew something was amiss, and the way the banquet had gone had only confirmed it. She'd tried to brush it off as mere jealousy on her part, but the pointed way the Queen had looked at Shiro when she'd mentioned the word 'gift' had made her believe she certainly wasn't imagining it.
She should never have left Shiro behind.
Furiously, she tore off the garb they'd so graciously offered her and pulled on her combat suit, finding a small bit of relief in the familiar feel of it. She then sat on the chaise Pidge had occupied earlier, and started to think.
Whatever it was they intended to do with him, it certainly was not going to be pleasant. She needed to find out where he was and just they were up to. The best – and only, really – option she had was to wear the aliens as a disguise and hope to slip through the palace, unnoticed, and gain some information. A Thysiraman wandering the halls would be far less conspicuous than an Altean. She also needed to check on Lance, Keith and Hunk.
It would mean changing her clothes again, but that barely mattered. She found some considerably less fine clothes that the ones she'd worn to the banquet, and slipped them on. Instead of adjusting them to her form, she altered herself to fit them, her skin now pink mottled with purple, her eyes liquid and large. It would do, she thought, unless someone asked too many questions.
She left a note, in the best Earth-script she could muster, beside Pidge on the bed, and then slipped out of her room.
The palace, she was relieved to discover, wasn't heavily guarded. She managed to slip past any of them, dodging into niches and behind columns whenever it was necessary, and eventually she found her way into what she suspected was the wing of the palace where they'd placed Shiro and the others.
Which room they occupied, however, was another matter entirely.
Unwilling to rouse anyone should there be any other occupants apart from Lance, Hunk and Keith, she pressed her ear to each door, trying to hear voices. All were empty, except for one: she could hear quiet voices, muffled, through the wood.
She tried the handle, found it yielded, and slipped in.
Immediately she had a laser rifle pointed at her, and she felt very proud of Lance in that moment.
“It's me!” she hissed. The rifle wasn't lowered.
“Prove it,” said Keith, the strip of light from the pathetic window glinting on his sword.
“When we first met, I said Lance's ears were hideous,” she said.
“That'll do,” Lance said, his rifle returning to its bayard form in a brief flash of light. “What are you doing here? Where's Shiro.”
Keith nudged Hunk awake with his foot and scooted up the bed, allowing Allura a place to sit next to him on the bottom bunk. Hunk yawned, rubbing his eyes, and blinked at her.
“There's an alien,” he said.
“It's Allura,” said Lance, swinging his legs over the side of the top bunk. She sighed.
“I... don't know where Shiro is. I was hoping he'd be here, but he's not.” She explained everything that had happened since the banquet.
“So you're saying the Queen has the hots for Shiro?” Lance asked. Allura nodded and he shuddered. “Some bad touch vibes right there.”
“Don't joke about that,” Hunk said reproachfully. He'd sat up, now fully awake, and looked very worried. “Is there any way we can help?”
“If you're seen around the palace, I have no doubt you'll be taken prisoner,” Allura said. “We're not in a good position right now. I'm the only one who can move freely.”
“At least we can communicate,” said Keith, picking up and patting his helmet.
“Good.” Allura stood, taking a deep breath. “Keep in touch. And don't move from here.”
Keith kept to his word. The three of them checked in on her in nine-and-half-tick intervals (which she supposed was because they were keeping to Earth minutes), and each time, she was fine.
She ducked behind a column, spotting two guards talking not far away from her, and listened closely, praying for some information.
“Did you see the Earthling breeder the Queen's got?” said one, and Allura felt as if she'd turned to ice. The ice was quickly melted, however, by an unstoppable, blinding rage. The urge to attack, to hurt, was stronger than she'd ever felt it. The idea of Shiro being touched by that... that thing was more than she could bear.
“I didn't, my shift started late!” said the other guard. “What's it like?”
Allura's stomach heaved at hearing them refer to Shiro as an 'it'. To compare him to nothing better than livestock, to use him... She only hoped she was in time.
“It's ok-looking, I guess,” said the first guard. “Nothing to write home about. But damn, the Altean offering the Black Paladin to the Queen was a genius move! She'll have her alliance in no time.”
Allura clapped a hand over her mouth, fighting down the urge to be sick. They thought she'd given him to them. It made her shudder to think about it.
“You don't think they'll challenge it, do you? I mean, there's the other Paladins, right?”
The first guard snorted. “They'll be gone by lunchtime, don't you worry.”
Dawn peered over the horizon, casting a rosy light on the ground at her feet. The shadows that made it easier to sneak around were quickly disappearing. As quietly as she could, she slipped away, down the corridor. Tugging up her skirt, she ran to her room, now certain of what she had to do.
When she got back, Pidge was awake, sitting nervously on the bed.
“What the hell is going on?” they asked, watching Allura shift back into her normal form and pull on her combat suit.
“Shiro's been...” She could barely say it. She clutched the edge of the dresser, shaking, the wood cracking and buckling under her fingers. The words tasted vile, grease in her throat, choking her. Tears welled in her eyes.
She'd let this happen, she realised. She'd let a madwoman get hold of Shiro, trapped, do the stars only knew what to him. Her guilt chewed at her belly, forcing her to sit down and knead at her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to push the tears back in.
“I'm an idiot,” she said. “An absolute idiot.”
“Hey...”
She felt small hands puckered with tiny scars from electrical sparks, pry her hands away from her eyes. Pidge was kneeling in front of her.
“Whatever's happened to Shiro, we're gonna save him,” they said, thick brows drawn together in determination. Allura nodded, taking several deep breaths to push back the despair.
“You're right. I need to inform Lance, Hunk and Keith.”
Pidge was there to hear when she told them, and their face was a display of mounting horror with each word Allura said. Once she'd finished, there was silence on the other end, until Lance breathed a shaky “Jesus Christ”.
“We have to help him!” Keith said furiously.
“And we're going to,” Allura said. “I'm going to challenge it. I don't care what the challenge is, I'll do it.”
“Don't,” Lance said warningly, and Allura scowled.
“Excuse me-”
“He was saying it to Keith,” Hunk explained. “I think Keith wants to fight.”
“I have several hundred years of training on you, Keith,” Allura said, completely deadpan. “And you're not the only one that cares about him.”
There was silence. It was the closest she'd come to admitting her feelings in front of the others, although she knew perfectly well they were aware of them. Confessing them out loud to someone who wasn't Shiro was... so official. It felt like tempting fate.
“I trust you, Allura,” Keith said. “Kick her ass.”
“Oh, I will,” Allura growled.
There was a knock on the door, brisk, no-nonsense, very different from the deference of the day before. Allura stood, hands clasped in front of her, back straight, knowing her eyes were full of cold fury.
“Enter,” she said, her tone imperious, and she noticed Pidge wilt a bit out of the corner of her eye. The door opened, and in stepped the attendant from the day before. She seemed surprised to see Pidge there.
“Your Highness, the Queen humbly requests your presence in the main hall,” she said.
“We will be present shortly,” Allura said icily. When the attendant hesitated, she added, “You do not need to wait.”
Finally, the girl was gone. Allura turned quickly to Pidge, who was gaping.
“That,” they said, “was terrifying.”
Allura waved her hand dismissively. “Just something I was taught a while ago,” she said. “Get your armour and meet me back here as fast as you can. And you three-” Her earrings lit up “-get to the main hall, we'll meet you there.”
“Roger, Princess!” Hunk said.
With Pidge in tow, jogging to keep up with her strides, Allura marched to the main hall, a woman on a mission. She was unsurprised to not see Shiro there, and was equally unsurprised to see a decent number of guards closer to Lance, Hunk and Keith than she would have liked. Queen Sadiri was on her throne, still in red. She smiled when Allura appeared.
“So good of you to join us, Princess,” she said. “I have your treaty here, all signed. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Allura placed one foot on the bottom stair of the dais the throne stood upon, her fists clenched, her face twisted in rage.
“Where is Shiro?!” she snarled. The guards had their spears lowered, eyeing her warily. The Queen raised en eyebrow ridge.
“The Black Paladin?” she asked. “I assumed he was the gift you mentioned.”
“People aren't gifts!” Allura spat. “They aren't objects! They aren't property to give away and receive!”
Sadiri sat up, to her full height, haughty and aloof. Allura could see cracks in her facade, though: it was a brittle mask with no dimension.
“Males are worth nothing,” she said. “They exist for our amusement, and to continue the race.”
“I challenge you, then!” Allura cried, pointing directly at her. Sadiri chuckled.
“Really, now?” She rose from the throne, trying to be imposing with her height and sceptre. Allura did not flinch.
“Hand-to-hand combat, I presume?” Allura said.
“You presume correct, dead-raced,” said Sadiri, descending the steps and passing her. Allura didn't let the insult visibly get to her, no matter how much it stung. “Not as foolish as I thought you were. So, we are to fight for the Black Paladin?” She laughed mockingly. “Sisters, fighting over a male? Surely you see how pathetic that is?”
“Shiro is a Defender of the Universe!” Allura said fiercely. “He is my friend, and my teammate!”
Sadiri merely scoffed and snapped her fingers. Two attendants appeared, and her clothing was pinned in such a way that it left her free movement. The courtiers that were present gathered in a circle, excited whispers rippling through them. Several sneered at Allura.
“Bring the male,” Sadiri drawled to one of the guards, and the other woman disappeared.
Allura moved to the other Paladins, who were on the far edge of the circle, near the palace doors. All four of them looked worried, and she smiled to reassure them.
“I don't like to use the word,” Lance said, peering over Allura's shoulder to glare at Sadiri, “but she's a bitch.”
“Agreed,” said Pidge. “Are you feeling ok, Allura? Are you sure you can do this?”
There was a commotion at the other end of the hall before Allura could even open her mouth to answer. Shiro was shoved to his knees, bare-chested, wearing nothing but his underwear. His armour was dumped by his side unceremoniously. His head was lowered, his face not visible, but every now and again, they could see him tremble.
Allura's anger flared. She could feel it coursing through her veins, ready to consume every part of her. No alliance, she realised, would be worth forging with these people.
She strode to the centre of the circle, calculating the edges, observing the different textures between the carpet that ran from the doors to the dais and the tiled floor on each side. She counted the guards and observed each weapon held by a courtier.
“Cover me,” Allura murmured.
“No problem, Allura,” Keith replied.
Sadiri came to stand in front of her, a hand on her hip, arrogant to the extreme. She was smirking. “It is not too late to call this whole thing off, dead-raced,” she said. “You can get on your ship and leave, and live to fight Zarkon another day.”
Allura merely steepled her fingers, forming a diamond, and bowed. Even with this snake, she would not forsake honour. Sadiri snorted derisively, shifting into a fighting stance. Allura did not move.
It was an attendant who gave the signal with a clap of her hands. Sadiri lunged, fist out, aiming for Allura's face. Allura skirted to the left, slamming her right palm with only half her strength into Sadiri's sternum. Sadiri rolled in mid-air, but landed, three-point, and glared.
Thysiramans seemed to be denser than humans, Allura mused – a hit like that would have broken Shiro's collarbone and sent him flying. It seemed to was unused to stronger opponents. She widened and lowered her stance, palms out, ready.
Sadiri was good, she had to admit that, possibly the best of their race. After the first, clumsy opening, left exposed because of underestimating Allura, she was harder to hit. Allura was too, however: she flowed like water, easily dodging any blow that threatened her. The second hit was hers too.
She backflipped away from Sadiri's fist, anchoring herself with her hands, her heel colliding with the Queen's chin – less force than the full strength she'd wanted, but she hadn't been able to build up the momentum. There was nevertheless, a satisfying crunch beneath her foot, and when Allura straitened, Sadiri was clutching her jaw, breathing heavily.
Her eyes landed on Allura, her gaze murderous. Allura merely raised her chin, still a challenge.
The injury made her sloppy, and gave Allura enough of an edge to use her full strength. She enveloped Sadiri's swinging fist with her fingers and bore down on it, as hard as she could. She felt bone crack beneath her grip, and she smirked.
Her other hand came up, palm open, momentum and sheer physical might coming together for the perfect storm against Sadiri's stomach. Allura let go of her hand and she went flying, across the hall, over the crowd. She slammed, backwards, into a column, cracking it, and slid down, motionless.
The crowd was silent for a tick, then the Paladins broke it with a cheer, rushing over to her, Hunk picking her up in a tight hug.
“You did it!” Keith said, clapping her on the shoulder.
There was no time for joy yet. She extricated herself from the four Paladins and hurried to Shiro's side. His head was raised now, and he smiled when he saw her, shaky and small and obviously fearful.
“You kicked ass,” he said.
“Only for you,” she replied. “Let's get you out of here.”
No one probed Shiro for any answers beyond the long tale they gave Coran and, quite honestly, he didn't want to give them. He didn't feel weak anymore, but his brain was stuck in darkness, cloying, unyielding, and it was getting hard to fight. As much as he wanted to sleep, his body begging for it, he'd refused the cryopod (anticipatory claustrophobia climbing up his throat) and daren't try to sleep on his own.
So there he was, on the bridge, in the dark, hands pressed uncomfortably to his eyes and teeth gritted. He'd taken two showers, scalding enough that his skin was red and raw, and he couldn't help but feel stupid because nothing had happened. She hadn't done anything. But there had been the threat of it and it dug under his skin like a parasite.
There was a sudden scent of flowery tea, and his head snapped up.
“I thought you could do with some,” Allura said. He accepted it gratefully, surprised at how much he wanted it now it was in front of him. She tucked her skirt under her and sat next to him with her own tea. There was a distance between them, and he felt both thankful for it and mourned its existence.
“I know you're not all right,” she said. “Did she... did she do...?”
He shook his head, quickly, brusquely, the warmth of the mug seeping into his one remaining hand. “No. She didn't get to.”
Allura breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm so glad. I should never have left you alone...” She ducked her head, hiding behind a white curtain. He could see the mug shaking slightly in her hands.
“Allura, don't blame yourself,” he murmured. “Please... I'm fine. To be honest, it was worse being in...” He trailed off, breathing heavily through his nose.
“You don't have to tell me if it hurts too much, Shiro,” she said, looking up again.
But he did.
He told her everything, and ended up trembling in her arms. He breathed in, deep, taking in the perfume of her hair and the scent of her skin, familiar, warm, comforting. His shaking lessened, his shoulders relaxed. He had no idea how she did this to him, but he wasn't about to question it.
“Oh, my love,” she said softly, lips pressed to his forehead. He finally pulled away with a long sigh that felt like it came from his very bones.
“Damn it,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “I just want to stop thinking about it right now.”
“That's all right,” she said. “Catharsis doesn't have to be immediate.”
He smiled, and for the first time since he'd been back on the ship, it felt sincere. She smiled back, and he was reminded, for what felt like the first time but was probably the thousandth, of how beautiful she was, how powerful and vulnerable and perfectly imperfect.
“I've never had a knight in shining armour before,” he said, chuckling.
“Well, look no further!” she said, flexing proudly, and he laughed again. She looked at him, her eyes glowing gently in the gloom of the bridge lit only by the crystal, and leaned forward.
“May I?” she asked, and while it stung she felt permission was necessary, he was grateful for it.
“Always,” he said, meeting her halfway, closing his eyes at the familiar touch of her lips. She sank against him, hands on his chest, lips as insistent as ever, and he held her close, fingers in her hair.
“You always seem to be rescuing me,” he said.
“I know you're always going to be returning the favour,” she replied, and pulled him into another kiss.