Lotidge Ship Week: Day 1 - Trust
(Quick note that NONE of this is tied to “Golden Madness” in any way. And will follow a linear story for the rest of the week. Enjoy!)
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Hostility, he expected.
But an IMMEDIATE knife to the throat? The Voltron Paladin must hate him more than he had previously thought. Said welder of the very pointy Luxite blade was the Half-Galra Paladin that had freed Acxa from the Weblum. Now, what was his name again?
“Keith, is it? This is pretty poor gratitude from someone who just stopped your suicide mission into that shield.” Something flashes in those gray-violet eyes. Something like shame and anger.
It made Lotor want to laugh.
Was that all it took to get these Paladins riled up? How cute. Keith curled his lips back in a very Galra way, pushing the point of the blade deeper. So that a drop of blood appeared right next to the Galran’s Prince’s jugular.
“YOU DID WHAT?” Thank the Stars Lotor had the sense to take a step back as the Keith whipped around at the sudden, new voice. A boy in blue armor appearing. Pretty, even as his face twisted in worry and anger.
But not his type.
“Keith?! You were going to what?”
“L-Lance, I was only trying to-“
“Trying to do what? Be a quiznacking hero again?”
“What’s that suppose to m-“
“Did I just start a lover’s quarrel?” Lotor thought out-loud. Stars, just watching these two brought another wave of aching pain to Lotor’s head.
They galred at him.
Which, naturally, resulted Keith’s knife finding its way back to its spot on Lotor’s throat. Ugh. Well give him a blade to the throat over a lover’s quarrel any-
“WE’RE NOT LOVERS!” Said lovers shouted in perfect sync at the exact same time. Lotor raising a single white eyebrow in response.
Their faces flushed red.
On second thought, having a discussion with the Defenders of the Universe might not have been the best idea. Especially if he had to deal with two pining idiots. He should’ve just flown into the sun and saved himself this misery.
“So, uh, this is the guy that just saved us?” Looking away from the oblivious males in front of him, Lotor watched as a larger male in yellow armor walked into the hanger all-to cautiously. Staring at the Galran Prince as if he would suddenly lash out and rip their heads off. And, believe him. He wanted to. But he couldn’t.
Not when they were all he could turn to.
It hurt his pride to admit such a thing, but between that witch and his father…he had to come in and save the people who dreamt of the Empire’s fall to gain some semblance of credibility. He despised the feeling of needing something so desperately, but here he was.
Begging.
“Prince Lotor, a…pleasure I’m sure.” Lotor growled as he glanced between the knife at his neck and the Keith. Which only served to get said knife pushed even closer to the Prince’s neck. Damn, if his generals hadn’t taken his weapons-
“While, I’d like to thank you for what you did, I can’t afford to let our guard down. Especially not to you.” A new voice chided, not unlike a parent’s scolding of a child, as a man dressed in black armor walked up to Lotor. A man the Galran Prince instantly recognized.
The Champion himself.
But how did-No. No, this man wasn’t the Champion. Lotor knew it, felt it. This man prancing around in his father’s old armor may look just like that Champion, but he wasn’t. His scent was too cold, too devoid of any real trauma. Something was wrong with his man.
Something very, very wrong.
“I think you should worry about your guard being too high, Champion.” The man even reacted blankly to an otherwise traumatic title.
Curious.
“Our guard is plenty high enough Prince Lotad.” Oh for the love of-Could no one hold a real conversation in this damned ship?! And who would dare insult-
He saw her.
The sight of her made Lotor subconsciously stand up straighter. The small woman walking to stand by the fake Black Paladin’s side. Hair short and amber-colored, curling around a pretty face. A woman in war, Lotor was no stranger to…but she looked so young. Her features still soft with youth. But her eyes…her gold, gold eyes…
They burned.
Scorched and killed as she glared at him. Seemingly more distrutive than the Half-Galra who currently had a knife to the Prince’s throat. Those eyes were not young.
Not in the least.
“Why did you do it?” The questioning outburst came as a surprise. Even to the Green Paladin who said them and the Galran Prince they were directed at. And, despite every logical part of Lotor’s brain telling him not to, he looked up into those bight eyes. Held those eyes within his own like a spoil of war. Beautiful and focused.
Just his type.
“Because I have to trust you.”
