Loose Ends (Part 1)
Continuing from the New Assignment series. This time: a lot of protecting happens and the title refers to the author finally posting something after what seems like forever. Also Keith finally makes his appearance in the AU.
Featuring a scene from this piece by @honestlyprettychill (AdminChilly)
Admin Hush ( @hushman) will provide part 2 in the coming days.
~~~~~~~~
The next time he and Pidge found a trail of shattered Balmeran crystals, he would take the wiser route and alert the Castle first before following it, Lance decided sorely.
Had he done so the first time, they might have been able to avoid this situation.
Heavy footsteps announced a new arrival, interrupting the eerie quiet of the dark room. Lance’s ears twitched, eyes closed to feign sleep and aide his concentration.
It was not armored boots, he knew what those sounded like better than back of his hand. The sound was more akin to softer shoes, like those nobles would wear.
Their host was finally going to introduce himself then.
Lance maneuvered his bound wrists the best he could behind his back, reaching out with the tips of his fingers as far as they could go. They sifted through a sea of crinkly material, the name of which rested on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t see it, only able to turn his head to see a portion of what was over his shoulder. Even that was a difficult task between the darkness of the room and a taut rope keeping him tight against the back of the chair.
His hands finally made contact with flesh - another pair of hands - and he squeezed them.
“We’re about to have a visitor,” Lance told Pidge. “Stay alert.”
A squeeze back was all the response he received before the door opened and the room flooded with bright light. Lance winced and turned away, closing his eyes at the sensory overload.
“When my men told me I had some unscrupulous visitors, I hardly believed that the honorary princess was one of them,” the voice said with disgust. Lance recognized it immediately, but Pidge beat him to the punch.
“Duke Elor,” she said distastefully. Lance felt her body tense where their backs touched. “I should have known you were behind the drones. What are you planning to do with all these Balmeran crystals?”
Lance opened his eyes once more and turned his head to observe the duke. His gaze was drawn to what the only man held; his broadsword. The one King Alfor had given him upon becoming a Castle guard.
A part of him wanted to be very angry at the irreverence by which the duke held the special weapon. The luxury to do so was not afforded to him.
A very bad situation had just turned into a bodyguard’s worst nightmare. Helpless to protect his charge in the first place, Duke Elor had never been shy about his dislike of the Holt siblings. Although both families were equally distant cousins of the crown, Pidge and her brother had been granted the titles of princess and prince by virtue of their father’s valued scientific and military council.
Elor was perhaps understandably jealous, but Lance had never pegged him to go this far.
“Is it wrongful to do business in the trading of Balmeran crystals in peace and quiet?” he asked airily. “The drones are not mine," his voice carried in annoyance. "The trail which led the two of you here was an oversight which I have personally seen to the correction of.”
“It is illegal if you have them infused with additives,” Pidge accused. “For good reason. They’re a power source themselves, too dangerous to be mixed with any other energy.”
“A growing necessity in a demanding economy and viewpoint which our beloved king does not share,” Elor said condescendingly. “And because we do not see eye to eye, the two of you will remain here while I deliver this to my client.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Pidge growled. “King Alfor will find out about this.”
“Perhaps eventually, after I am long gone off planet,” he said coolly.
Lance scoffed, and grinned in confidence. “There’s no way you’ll get past space port security. They’ll be all over you before you can even break the atmosphere.”
His grin vanished as Elor’s mouth morphed into an unkind smile. “It is a good thing you both are here to provide a distraction, then.”
Reaching into his pocket, Elor produced a flare and lit it with the flick of his fingers.
The room illuminated and fear gripped Lance fast. The room in which they were being held was storage for mounds of dried juniberry and other tea leaves. Tied tightly to the chair, Lance hadn’t been able to feel the leaves through his armor, even though they piled up to his chest.
Leaves dry enough to catch fire with even the smallest spark.
Like the flare Elor had just lit.
“I thank you that your final act in life will be to my assistance.” He placed Lance's broadsword up against the wall next to the door. “I can at least afford you the luxury of perishing with your weapon. Farewell, children.”
“Wait, Duke Elor don’t - !”
The Duke dropped the flare to the floor and both captives gasped in fear as the leaves burst into flame, spreading quickly all around them.
“Do not feel as if you’ve failed your duties, Lieutenant,” the duke said as he stepped backwards out of the room. “Think of yourself as here to guard Miss Holt in the afterlife.”
The door locked shut with deadly finality. Darkness returned but for what the fire illuminated. To Lance’s dismay, it had already engulfed a whole quarter of the room.
“If you have something clever up your sleeve,” he said in panic, “now would be the time!”
Pidge wiggled her wrists furiously. “Don’t you think I’m trying?! The leaves are so far gone I can barely feel a pulse. You’ve got water magic, put it out before it gets to us!”
Lance went rigid, shrieking as his toes begin to get too warm for his liking and a soft glow appeared just before him. “I can’t move my hands. Even if I could there’s no water here!” Desperately, he blew hard towards the flame, hoping to hold it back.
“Stop it, you’re going to make it worse! Just - just give me a minute!” Pidge yelled. Though her words were sharp, Lance could hear the fear in her voice.
Lance gave her silence and felt the familiar warmth of her magic fill the space immediately around them. While normally it gave him good feelings, the encroaching threat and the increasingly unbearable heat on his legs made it difficult.
Pidge coughed and Lance found himself doing the same after inhaling smoke. Was this really how he was going to meet his end? The worst bodyguard ever? Never to see his family again - let alone if they would ever find out what really happened to him.
Maybe now was the time to tell Pidge about his budding feelings for her. The timing was awful, but it was the one regret he could fix right now - for better or for worse.
“Pidge,” he began, “there’s something I need to - “
A leaf cut across his cheek as sharp as any sword. More of them circled and cut the rope that kept him tied down. In a flurry, even more leaves pushed out away from him, reducing the agony of the fire.
Lance looked up in wonder. The words he had intended to say taken from his mouth, leaving him to gape like a fish at the sight. Leaves swirled around the both of them until the floor beneath was bare, making them the center of a vortex of leaf and flame.
The ropes no longer restrain him and Pidge’s labored breath snaps him out of his awe.
“Pidge!” he jumped out of his chair and ran around to face his charge, kneeling to get a better look at her face. She sat in deep concentration, also now unbound. Sweat fell from her temples and her breathing became increasingly strained. Pidge rarely used this much volume of flora in practice, but the amount of energy Lance knew she was using due to the near-dead leaves was overwhelming her.
“Pidge, it’s time to go. I’ll carry you, we’ll make a break for the door,” he prodded.
Pidge did not respond, her head bowed and brows creasing with strain. Her face was more pale than usual.
She wasn’t going to be able to hold the firestorm in place for long anyway.
It was his turn to come up with a solution then.
Lance called upon his magic and with great care not to disturb Pidge, took her sweat and gathered it into as big a ball as he could.
He used the knowledge from one of Pidge’s lessons and infused his own energy into the small sphere. It grew in volume, bolstered by Lance’s magic. Standing, and stepping backwards, he balanced the precious water between his palms. Then very carefully he maneuvered it into the firestorm that surrounded them. The water mixed in with the fire and it slowly began to sizzle out bit by bit, leaving only a tornado of tea leaves.
A moan from behind alerted Lance that Pidge could not last any longer. She fell into his arms and the leaves dropped at the same time. The fire had not been extinguished, but their powers had bought them time.
"Let's get out of here, Pidge. Hold onto me tight." He took her arm and slung it over his own shoulder, carrying her towards the door.
Pidge groaned and her eyelids fluttered. "I've got the door. Stand back."
She raised her arm and Lance saw what she was going for. He supported her arm and activated the computer on her wrist cuff for her once it was aimed at the door's control panel. In just a few tics it opened without a problem.
"Nice job, Pidge," Lance said. Pride for his friend filled him. "You never cease to amaze me."
"Save it for later," Pidge said as she flopped her head into Lance's side. "We need to get out of here and warn the Castle. Duke Elor is still out there."
Lance dutifully helped her outside, a fond feeling rising in his chest. "Let's get you to a safe place and we'll do just that. I have to do my job right once today," he quipped. He accompanied it with a forced chuckle.
Pidge didn't respond. Lance frowned, a serious demeanor falling over him. He collected his sword and sheathed it with his free hand.
He almost failed today. He wouldn't let it happen again.
~~~~
Pidge woke rejuvenated. Aside from a post-wake up haze, her body felt energized and ready. Her legs felt slightly damp. She opened her eyes to see Lance sitting up next to her, their backs against a tree. The morning dew still clung to the grass underfoot.
Not just any tree, she realized, the Father Tree. Pidge sighed in relief. She couldn’t think of any safer place for them to be right now save the throne room. Even though her relationship with the Tree was still tenuous, she knew permission was there to draw upon some of the Tree's smaller branches.
She still needed to fully earn its trust.
"I'm glad you're awake," Lance said in relief. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better," she said. "I think the Father Tree did me a favor and replenished my magic. Did you call for help?"
Lance nodded. "Shiro has some guards on the way. I told them where we're at." He paused and tears formed around his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed her into a tight hug. "I was so worried for you. Here you are, saving me when I'm supposed to be your bodyguard."
Once over the initial surprise, Pidge returned the hug softly. Something about Lance was so earnest and warm and it infected her with ease. It may have been cliche to think she was safe in his arms. "You brought me here. There was no way I could have gotten out of there alone. You more than did your job. We're a team remember? That was our deal from day one."
Lance chuckled, tears evident in his relief. "You're right. I'm just... so thankful you're okay. And not just because you're my boss. It's because you're my friend and you mean so much mo - "
"This is all very quaint, and rather annoying."
Pidge gasped and broke from the hug. Focused on what Lance had been about to say, she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. Inexplicably, Duke Elor stood before them. Two guards of his own aimed blasters menacingly towards her and Lance.
"How - how did you find us?" Pidge exclaimed angrily.
"I'm just as frustrated as you, young lady," Elor chided. "Here I am awaiting my ride only to discover that the two of you have pulled off the impossible and escaped. That building should be in ruins by now."
Lance shifted to his knees, sword between her and them. “We aren’t that easy to kill,” he said. Pidge couldn’t recall the last time he had sounded this devoid of all humor.
This situation scared him, she realized. Same as it did her.
“Careful with your choice of words, Lieutenant. I might take that as a challenge.”
Wind whipped up around the area, causing leaves and branches of all kinds to whirl about indiscriminately. Pidge shielded her face, but did not miss the shuttle that landed on the beach just yards away.
“Be obedient children this time and stay put for your death.”
The trees trembled in the presence of newcomers. It was Pidges only warning and she realized with a gasp that more enemies were inbound from the ship.
“Lance, above you!”
Lance raised the sword above him not a tic too soon. It clashed with a shorter blade descending from the trees. Lance grunted and heaved, forcing the assassin to land a good distance away and unable to complete the blow that had been intended for her.
The assassin was masked in purples and blacks, a sign of Galra make.
A greater fear than death took her. Pidge turned the fear to anger, directed at Elor. “We have been at peace with Daibaazal for centuries. Now you bring assassins and risk it all? For profit?!”
Elor did not react, placing his hands behind his back in proper posture. “We all must do what we can my dear child. Peace is simply bad for business.”
Lance stood to face the Galra assassin, practically snarling with his sword at his side ready to go. Pidge dug into her magic reservoirs, hidden behind Lance for the element of surprise.
Sweat dripped down her face as Pidge's brain fought for a solution. Now the situation had turned impossible. If they were killed by a Galra blade, Altea would go up in arms. If they killed a Galra, even provoked, Zarkon would go to war.
Lance understood this as well as she did. He held his ground, grip visibly tightening around the hilt of his sword.
Elor turned up to the trees on his left, smile savage. “Kill the princess,” he ordered.
“Don’t you touch her!” Lance yelled, and launched himself at Elor.
Elor’s personal guards fired their blasters. Facial markings glowing bright and magic concentration in the palm of her hand, Pidge summoned help from the leaves of the surrounding trees to create a barrier for Lance, desperate to make sure he wouldn’t be hurt.
The leaves could not shield all of the continuous blasts. Lance deflected some with his sword as he pushed forward, but his battle cry quickly turned into one of pain. He twisted and fell to the ground with his back against the enemy.
Pidge's breath caught in her throat as the assassin cut through her leaf shield and came at Lance with sword raised to strike a blow.
“Lance, look out!” she yelled.
Lance spun around on his back and once again met the Galra blade to blade. The two held the others blow, Lance clearly struggling after the repeated hits from the blasters.
The broadsword flew from Lance’s hand, flying and skidding a sizable distance away. The assassin’s blade thrust into his stomach and he screamed in pain.
Pidge wanted to go numb. Lance was her friend, possibly best friend. He was warm and kind and quick to be silly. He was her training partner, the first she’d ever had. Whatever she did, she did with him.
She loved him.
Through tear stained and fearful eyes, determination won out. She would not go numb, that wouldn’t help Lance at all. He would not die today, not if she could help it.
A warm, ancient feeling filled every inch of her being. Rage seeped into the gaps as the assassin ripped the blade out of Lance’s body and lifted him up by his collar.
Pidge saw everything. All around her each individual stem and leaf were outlined in a bright green glow. Thin vines surrounded her, twisting and twirling freely, ready to attack. She did not have to ask the plant life to do anything. They were of one mind and will.
The vines went rigid, making themselves as spears. Like lightning, they make their way to impale the assassin.
He saw the attack coming. With one great heave he threw Lance by the collar and jumped out of the way.
Pidge has no time to avoid Lance as she catches his full weight, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
“Enough toying with them,” Elor said in annoyance. “Finish the job.”
Pidge moaned in pain, but did not lose her wits. She rolled Lance onto his back and set him upright against the Father Tree.
The assassin raced towards the two downed Alteans, blade raised high. Abruptly, the assassin stopped. His blade slid out of his hand and fell to his knees, a bloodied shard of ice sticking out of his throat.
Lance’s markings continued to glow for a moment longer before flickering out. Pidge had no time to be fascinated by not only his quick thinking to use the dew, but also with his impressive phase changing.
He was in bad shape. Blood ran down from his eye, both of which were clenched shut in obvious pain. His right arm held fast to his abdomen and Pidge knew more serious injuries lay underneath his skin.
“Lance? Lance can you hear me?” Pidge said frantically, forcing herself not to shake him but rather apply pressure to his wound. Blood ran up to her wrists in an instant.
He groaned and bit his lip as he sucked in a breath. “Run,” he said. “I can spare you a few seconds. Get to the lake.”
“I am not leaving you,” Pidge declared firmly.
“It’s my job,” Lance said in equal measure. “Let me do it.”
“Shut up,” Pidge said. Instead of telling him why, she showed him.
She cupped her hand around his non-bloodied cheek and brought her lips in to meet his.
The kiss was soft and short. There was no time to dwell on how their friendship or professional relationship would change after this. Pidge didn’t have the luxury of time for it, or to wait for Lance’s reaction.
She stood between Lance and their would-be murderers. Vines from the Father Tree twist and curve around her hand, palm glowing more brightly and more powerful than ever. The sleeves of her dress ripped and her wrist cuff broke; her teeth grit in anger and determination.
They were both going to live, and only after they were both safe they would talk.
“You will not touch him,” she growled.
Elor rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with this whole matter.
“Defiant to the end. Captain.” He turned to his guards “Finish them!”
The guards aimed their blasters.
Pidge felt her markings light back up with fervor as she readied herself to defend against the blaster fire.
The standoff was interrupted as a curved blade flew in out of nowhere, embedding itself in one of the guards blasters. A hooded figure, dressed similarly to the assassin, raced in. With one hand he pulled the blade out from the weapon, and punched the guard in the jaw with the other, knocking him to the ground and out.
The second guard fired his blaster at the newcomer, who effortlessly blocked it with his blade. He raced forward and sliced the gun in half, using the handle of his blade to knock the guard unconscious.
Elor took several steps back, face full of raw fear. “What are you doing?! I pay you and this is how you repay me?”
“I take my payment in justice,” he said.
Gunfire from the shuttle blacked his path, which Elor took opportunity of to run to the safety of the ship.
The man in Galra colors shifted his head towards Pidge and dropped his mask. His black hair and pale face were the last features she had expected underneath the Galra uniform.
“Take down the ship! Hurry!” He yelled urgently.
Elor’s ship was taking off, loaded with the infused Balmeran crystals, Pidge could only hazard a few awful guesses about the type of people who would be buying.
She shot vines towards it, but even the Father Tree had limits. The flora stretched as far as it could, but the ship lifted high enough that they could not reach.
“No!” Their savior cried in dismay.
The shuttle hovered over the lake and turned to them. The telltale glimmer of the beam cannon charging made Pidge’s heart break. She scrambled to create a shield for the incoming blast, but no matter what she did, the physics didn’t add up. It wouldn’t be enough.
The ground shook violently. Instead of a laser from the shuttle, a much more powerful one rose from the center of Lake Altea and pierced the ship, causing it to explode on impact.
The gigantic figure of the Gombash leapt upwards to the flying debris, snatching fragments of metal and crystal before diving back into the lake. So large was the splash that the spray even reached them.
“Woah,” the man said in awe, shoulders slumped to a more relaxed position. “Can I get one of those?”
Pidge couldn’t help but feel only relief. The Gombash has saved not just them, but the Castle too. It was the one creature on the planet powerful enough to contain the explosions the crystals would inevitably create.
She let the plants return to their places. The grove looked as if nothing had ever happened.
She could now focus on the most important issue.
“Lance!” She flopped to her knees to check his vitals. Her tech confiscated and destroyed, she was forced to do it the old fashioned way.
He was visibly breathing. Still, she placed her forefingers at the base of his neck and read his heartbeat. Pidge deemed it within acceptable levels considering the situation. It wouldn’t stay that way if they stayed here too much longer.
Lance stirred and lifted his eyelids. “Are you safe?”
Her vision blurred at his concern. “We both are. We’ll have to explain Duke Elor’s death, but Gommy saved us from a lot of potential problems.”
“Gommy’s a good boy,” Lance chuckled with a soft smile. “I think I prefer your kisses to his though.”
Heat rose into Pidge’s cheeks. “We were about to die. I panicked.”
“I’m glad you did,” Lance said. With effort, he took her hands in his. His affectionate gaze somehow seemed different, a touch of love between the admiration and kindness.
“Is he going to be okay?”
She’d actually forgotten about the not-Galra warrior.
He knelt down the other side of Lance and produced a small container from his belt pouch. He began to rub a magenta colored cream over the wound. “This salve will start the healing process, but it’s not a cure all. He'll still need medical attention.”
Lance looked up at him quizzically, a single eyebrow raised. “Oh. Um, thanks?”
“Who are you?” Pidge asked, trying to figure him out as much as Lance was. “Why did you help us?”
“Because it’s my job,” he said, rolling back onto his feet. “My name is Keith. I’m an agent with the Blade of Marmora.”
“The Blade of Marmora?” Pidge repeated, her mind buzzing with the new information and trying to piece the puzzle together. “That’s Zarkon’s most elite military unit. You don’t look Galra.”
“Wait how do you know about the Marmorites?” Lance asked her. “That’s top secret stuff. Shiro had to call in tons of favors for my clearance.”
“Well, I’m technically not supposed to know,” Pidge admitted frankly. “It came up one day while I was searching the Castle archives.”
Lance’s eyes bulged comically. “Those are encrypted!”
“Yeah, poorly,” Pidge scoffed.
“I’m half Galra,” Keith explained. By the way his eyes darted between the both of them, he was just as equally trying to judge their character. “Dad was Altean. That’s why I was selected for this mission.”
“Wait, how long have you been investigating this?” Pidge probed. She was cautiously curious about the situation. Why hadn’t the guards been notified of this?
“I lost my reconnaissance drone several months ago, so I had to gather information on the ground. Duke Elor was my first suspect, so I joined the Galra mercenaries to see it first hand. Now the Duke is dead and the crystals destroyed. You two,” he said crossing his arms, “are my only witnesses.”
Pidge’s jaw dropped.
“The drones were yours?!” she and Lance exclaimed together.
Keith, taken aback and eyes wide, responded in kind. “You two destroyed it?!”
“So it was a Galra spy!” Lance declared angrily, leaning forward. “You should have told us, we wou - “ a coughing fit cut him off. Pidge gently pushed him back against the Father Tree.
“I did!” Keith defended. “I was assured that King Alfor was aware of everything.”
“He sure didn’t seem like it when we found the drone,” Pidge remarked with suspicion. “Are you sure Kolivan sent you?”
Keith opened his mouth to respond, but was silenced by the noise of Altean blasters. A five man squad from the Castle stood ready to fire.
“Step away from the princess and put your hands on your head, assassin. You’re under arrest.”
The combination of defeated and incredulous was amusing to see on Keith’s face as he raised his hands in surrender. Pidge frowned. This latest action continued to convince her that he was telling the truth. No assassin would give himself up so willingly or offer healing to a mortally injured target.
Help for Keith would have to wait. Lance kept his eyes closed, focusing on every breath. Speaking had drained more of his energy than he had anticipated. Although not in immediate danger, Lance needed medical attention, at least more than Pidge could provide at the moment.
Once the repercussions from today had settled and Lance was healed, then they could talk.
And they had more to talk about than just magic.