I wanted to draw Lance as a beautiful merman but... I suddenly got hit with the idea that Lance would have a shark base and sees himself as "ugly" compared to the other merfolks because he doesn't have fancy tails like them.
So, @sp4c3-0ddity and I got a little out of hand the other night and we ended up outlining basically an entire Plance AU on Discord.
We are are going to round robin this. I’ll be writing Lance POV, and she’ll be writing Pidge POV in alternating chapters.
This will not be the fastest updating series. Both of us have a lot of other fics we are working on, some with deadlines. The plan is to keep the chapters short (around 1K each) to help get them out at a reasonable pace, but no promises.
Below is the prologue featuring Lance. It’s longer than a typical chapter will probably be, but there is a lot to establish. Roughly 3500 words. Please let us know if you enjoy it!
~~~~~
A high pitched whistle is the only warning Lance has to hit the deck. He does so face first, hands covering the back of his head just as the burst of dark magic hits the rigging above him. Splinters rain down on his back and into his hair.
A few tics pass and the deck erupts into chaos yet again. Dozen of scrambling boots beat down on the wooden planks and Lance rises to view the damage for himself.
The main sail still stands. Barely. The mast is being chopped down like a tree by the repeated attacks. Lance leans over the starboard side, looking back at their pursuers. His heart drops when he sees Haggar has only gained on them in the time since he last looked.
“Quiznak,” he mutters under his breath. He pounds the railing with a fist in anger and frustration.
Cannons pummel a different ship; this one trimmed in brilliant blues and whites. A much younger Lance is petrified and overwhelmed. He wants to help desperately, but is lost in the sea of legs rushing about on the deck, not paying him any mind other than to tell him to get out of the way.
Pirates are attacking.
This isn’t fair, he thinks fleetingly, he shouldn’t be on this pirate ship. He should be with his family on dry land and in a warm house, playing games with his siblings. Not out on the ocean fighting for his life.
“Lance!”
He breaks from his thoughts to Keith calling his name. The slightly older boy is already climbing the rigging, hanging on as if he was more comfortable in the air than on the ground. “Help me brace the mast! Hurry!”
Lance goes on automatic. He jumps onto the railing and climbs the shroud, following Keith to halfway up the mast.
He may not have his siblings, but he has Keith, who at this point he knows better than his blood brothers.
“Why were you on that ship then?” a younger Keith asks. He’s propped up on his elbows, most of his body underneath the covers of the bed. He faces Lance, an expression of curiosity etched across his face.
Lance has cocooned all but his head under blankets of his own, body curled up tight and clutching the pillow and blanket as if they were lifelines. The day’s events are still fresh in his mind. Just this morning he’d been looking forward to seeing his older sister on another ship later in the week. Instead he’s on a pirate ship, sailing further and further away from any waters he knows.
His bed is across the cabin from Keith’s, but the room the boy usually shares with his mother is tiny, enough so the two hear each others whispers.
“I wanted to meet a pretty mermaid,” Lance admits, even though merfolk are rare and most people don’t believe they exist anymore. He shares his dream anyway, beckoned by the prospect of Keith possibly up to him. Having a friend his age would be a mercy. “And I wanted to learn. My family has a lot of boats. I wanted to know what they talk about at dinner, trading and shipping things.”
Keith blinks. “That’s just asking to be found by pirates,” he says bluntly.
Keith wraps his legs securely around the rope he clings to and removes his hands. He unsheathes his knife and holds it in his mouth while he examines the damage.
Lance arrives and gives the situation his own critical eye. “We’ve got to take down the sail,” he tells Keith soberly. “This thing has so many holes. Its slowing us down.”
He can tell from the look on Keith’s face that he’s reached the same conclusion. Keith takes his knife and begins cutting rope. “Tell Kolivan to prep the crossbows. The whole thing will come down eventually, might as well use it.”
“Got it,” Lance acknowledges. He swings himself around and glides down the rope, hitting the deck running.
Lance races up the stairs to the quarterdeck, where first mate Krolia steers the ship with deadly precision. Her eyes are singularly focused on their path ahead and Lance doesn’t dare break her concentration any further than the bombardment does. He scans the area frantically, but doesn’t see Kolivan anywhere.
He spots Antok working the rudder and rushes to the senior crewmember. Lance leans into the rudder with his shoulder, using all his strength to help Antok move it to the desired location.
“Where’s the Captain?” Lance asks desperately, raising his voice over the choppy seas and the magical bombardment. Another attack hits near the bow, and although the impact is on the other side of the ship, Lance is nearly tossed to the ground.
Antok catches him easily with one long arm. “In his quarters, making precautionary plans. Krolia has the bridge,” he says concisely. Lance is used to receiving only the bare minimum information, and does not press.
“Thanks!” he says in response to both the information and the save from the fall. He stands upright on his own and dashes back down the stairs.
Lance jumps over the last few steps and over the railing, turning as sharp a corner as possible to reach the door to the officers cabins. He sleeps with the crew now, but as he passes down the hall, memories from what feels like a lifetime ago fill his mind, of Keith giving him firsthand accounts of everything and everyone on the ship those first frightening nights. He breathes in and out purposefully, shoulders rising and falling in sync as he reaches Kolivan’s door and knocks. Now is not the time for reminiscing.
The door opens and he’s greeted by Ilun, another veteran of the crew. “Lance,” she acknowledges shortly.
“I need to see the Captain,” he says hurriedly. “The mast is falling apart. Keith is working on it right now. We have to - “
“Understood.” Kolivan interrupts from further inside the room. He stands over a table with what Lance knows is the map of the surrounding waters. “Ilun, go assist Keith how you can, then help Krolia on the bridge.”
“Yes, Captain!” In a whirlwind, she rushes down the hall and out to the deck in no time.
Lance watches her do so before turning back to Kolivan. “I’m gonna go help too. The more people helping the sooner the sail comes down.” He turns to leave.
“One moment, Lance. Step inside for a minute,” the captain says in a far less commanding tone.
Lance stops in his tracks and does as asked, closing the door behind him. Kolivan’s voice is sobering and in the closed off cabin it is all too easy to forget the chaos outside.
“Captain?” he asks tentatively.
He doesn’t hate Kolivan, but there will always be an uneasiness between the two of them. The man has always been fair with him considering the circumstances, allowing Lance ample leeway to wrestle with his dueling feelings of fondness and resentment for the crew.
“You are allowed to call me by my name,” he says. “You are not a member of this crew.” His stare is impartial, solid yellow eyes betraying no emotion in the moment.
Lance stiffins. “You’re the captain. As long as I’m on this ship, that’s what I’ll call you.”
Kolivan does not react.
“Haggar will catch up to us,” he says grimly instead. “This ship does not have the speed to outrun a pursuit like this.”
A shiver goes down Lance’s spine. He’s grown up with stories of Pirate Admiral Zarkon’s first fleet Captain. Her cruelty is matched only by her proficiency and interest in dark magic. The very idea of being her enemy has always haunted Lance, but until now he has had sanctuary on a ship in the same fleet.
Until two days ago, when Kolivan refused to follow Zarkon’s command to attack the country of Arus. Now The Blade of Marmora is being pursued to face punishment.
“Why are you telling me this?” Lance asks.
Kolivan regards him with a calculating stare. “Whatever happens, you are not obligated to stand with the crew. You did not choose to be here. None of us will think less of you if you elect to save your own life.”
Lance bites his bottom lip, fear and anger welling up at the same time. “You’re assuming I’ll be given a chance.” He forces himself to say his next words without spite. “It’s a pirate thing. You didn’t care that I was a kid, Haggar isn’t going to care I’m a prisoner.”
The Captain is forced to his knees like the rest of the crew. Lance stands exposed, his hiding spot behind the Captain gone. He begins to sit along with the others.
“Set the boy aside,” orders the pirate’s leader. Lance can only protest lightly as strong arms lift him away from his keepers.
The Captain pleads for him. “He’s only a child,” the man says desperately. “This is his first voyage. Please spare him.”
Lance is forced to stand with his back flush against the pirate who grabbed him, a massive arm across his shoulders to keep him in place. Lance remains still, eyes filled with curiosity and fear. It isn’t as if there is anywhere to go, ships surrounded by water and days from land.
The pirate leader approaches him and Lance cranes his neck to see his face.
“What is your name, child?”
Lance raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s not polite to ask for someone’s name and not give yours,” he says frankly.
The Captain and several crewmen in Lance’s sight wince, eyes holding a fear that Lance can’t place. He doesn’t know what the pirates want from the cargo, but that doesn’t excuse their manners.
The pirate’s mouth twitches into a side smile. “I am Kolivan, Captain of The Blade of Marmora.”
“I’m Lance,” he offers politely and proudly. “I’m the cabin boy from Port Varadero.”
Kolivan hums. “That is a very large and prosperous port city. Do you like it there?”
Lance nods enthusiastically. “I love it! I can’t wait to tell all my brothers and sisters about my first job on a ship. None of them ever met real pirates.”
“I see,” Kolivan responds. “He turns to the Captain. “His father owns the shipping company, doesn’t he?”
Lance frowns. Why would that matter?
“Please don’t harm him,” the Captain says instead. “The boy is just here to learn.”
Kolivan stares at Lance for a long moment before speaking again. “Then he will learn with us. Antok,” he says, addressing the pirate holding Lance. “Take the boy to my cabin. We leave for deeper waters once the cargo is unloaded.”
Lance gasps as he is hoisted over Antok’s shoulder. The Captain has stood, protesting the decision vehemently. Lance can’t wrap his mind around what is happening and holds tight to Antok’s shirt. Why would Kolivan make him change ships?
It is probably only to secure his father’s cargo, Lance realizes.
As Antok descends the stairs from the quarterdeck, more crewmen join the Captain in protesting the decision. The argument becomes more and more heated until Lance can no longer see them.
Blood curdling screams, gunshots, and strangled noises erupt. They end just as suddenly as they began.
If the words had been hurtful, Kolivan does not show it.
Lance continues before he can say anything. “I should get back out there,” he says shortly, turning towards the door. “She’s not on us yet so there’s still a chance.” He places a hand around the doorknob, squeezing it in frustration. It’s been seven years since that day. It may not have been his choice, but he’s done everything as expected of a member of the crew. He may as well be one at this point. “Unless you have orders for me.”
“I am not your Captain and you are hardly a child. Do as you wish.”
That’s almost more frustrating than a straight answer. Lance says no more and leaves, slamming the door behind his exit.
Lance waits for an agonizingly long time. It may have only been ten minutes, maybe even an hour, but to a twelve year old boy being confined for any amount of time was torture.
He’s tied to a chair that is much too large for him. Lance isn’t worried, this is a pirate ship after all, he expected this. But he’s bored, and all of the most interesting things in the room are just out of reach from his free hands. Kolivan’s desk has an assortment of maps, knick knacks, and instruments that could easily provide entertainment for an imagination as good as Lance’s. He pouts mostly, forcing himself to imagine what he would do with the compass or pretend he was reading one of the old books that lined the walls.
Maybe some of them were spellbooks, Lance thought brightly. He’s never seen a spellbook, and if anyone were to have one, certainly pirates would!
The door unlocks from the outside and wiggles open. Kolivan appears from the other side and closes the door behind him.
Lance twists, feeling antsy. “Are you done taking everything?” he asks. “Can I go now?”
“Everything of value has been transferred,” Kolivan answers. He rounds the large desk and unties the rope that keeps Lance bound to the chair. Lance grins and rolls his shoulders and stretches.
“Stay seated, we must talk.”
Lance blinks and crosses his legs on the chair. “What about? Is...there something you want me to tell my father?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Kolivan says. He walks to the back of the room; Lance must turn around and sit on his knees to see over the back of the chair. The pirate captain opens one of many tinted windows. “What did you learn on the Valiant?”
A strange question, Lance thinks. A sense of wrongness begins to finally stir within him. Lance knows pirates are capable of truly terrible things, but attacks by Galra pirates are so commonplace that this robbery doesn’t scare him.
Well, if an adult wants him to show off, he can certainly do that.
“I can climb the shrouds all the way up to the mast,” he says proudly. “And I know how to let down the sails, and I clean the deck faster than anyone else.”
Kolivan nods, even gives him a small smile. “That’s very impressive for your age.”
Lance beams at the praise. It was more than even Luis got to do before he eventually became captain of one of the family vessels. Perhaps that meant Lance would one day be so good he could command a fleet of ships!
“Good. Since you have maintenance basics down, tomorrow you will report to Krolia. You’ll need combat training and there is none better to teach you.”
Lance is officially confused. Pirates offering to teach him things? Combat takes years, or decades, to practice. Even Lance knows that. And… “But… I can’t. I’m going ho- “
“You will be staying with us,” Kolivan says before Lance can finish his thought. “Do you understand why?”
“What? That’s not fair!” Lance says. It doesn’t make sense, but it's the first thing out of his mouth in retort.
“You will remain on this ship as a representative of your father’s company,” Kolivan tells him. “I’ve instructed the ship’s cook to inform your father of the new arrangements. We will see to your education and wellbeing provided we are given safe passage through your family’s shipping lanes.”
A knock on the door makes Lance gasp, not realizing he had been holding his breath as finally, the situation comes crashing down on his head.
The pirates are going to use him as a hostage for a lot longer than he first thought.
The door opens and a boy his age quietly enters. He looks perfectly human compared to the rest of the Galra crew and Lance fleetingly wonders if these pirates make a habit of kidnapping.
“Keith,” Kolivan begins, “this is Lance. Show him around the ship, then the two of you will help prepare the evening meal. Your mother can give you instructions after that. She’ll be training both of you starting tomorrow.”
Lance can’t stand to hear anymore. He jumps onto the desk and bolts past Keith and out the door. He runs outside onto the deck, nearly tripping over buckets of water or crewmembers, none of whom seem very worried about him roaming free.
Lance reaches the railings, and in the far distance he can see the small black dot that he knows is the Valiant.
“I think I can sneak up on her.”
“You have no weapon,” Lance retorts dryly back at Keith.
The two stand at the end of a long line, every member of the crew standing side by side, their weapons systematically taken away by Haggar’s druids. Lance is on pins and needles waiting for the judgement to come down on them. He regrets never being able to see his family again, but he’s not had a bad life either, albeit a short one.
He itches for his pistols to at least go down fighting, and he knows Keith feels the same for his blade.
Like a passing front, the air chills rapidly. Haggar herself boards the Blade of Marmora. She keeps her face hooded and posture hunched.
Keith growls and leans forward. Lance grabs him by the back of his shirt. “Not the time, dude.”
Kolivan steps out to meet her, his face carefully neutral. “The decision to not attack Arus was mine alone. Leave my crew out of this.”
“Your selflessness is commendable, yet misguided,” Haggar says. "No one defies Zarkon. You and your ship will be made an example to the rest of the fleet."
Druids fly across the deck of the ship and mutter incantations under their breaths. It’s an unnerving sight and Lance hates being at the far end. He feels exposed and scoots away from the railing, bumping into Keith for his trouble.
"You have a choice, Kolivan. You can pledge right now to serve Zarkon, or I will curse your ship and your crew," Haggar says.
Kolivan narrows his eyes. "Zarkon is not the Galra I knew years ago. I refuse to offer my ship to his whims."
"So be it."
Dark clouds form directly above the ship, soon bringing heavy rain down upon the deck and lightning to illuminate the sky. A dark mist weaves in between the line of crew members before it stops abruptly at Keith. Lance follows it with his eyes as it twirls around Keith's body up to his head. It jumps over to Lance and circles him on its way back down to the deck and returns to Haggar.
"One and a half humans," she observes coolly. "More vulnerable than most. Step forward."
Lance feels an awful sense of deja vu as a druid shoves both him and Keith forward. He steals a glance in Krolia's direction. Her face is carefully blank, but he's known her long enough to see the rage building in her eyes.
If anything happens to Keith, there will be retaliation.
"The blood of both Galra and human," Haggar begins. “A potent catalyst.” She takes Keith's hand and pricks his finger with a needle. Keith winces, but he's unharmed.
She lets the blood drop to the deck of the ship, mixing with the rainwater. Against all odds, soon all of the water on the deck has turned blood red, the rain replenishing the macabre mixture.
"The crew of the Blade of Marmora will live forever, but will never be able to touch land again. Not sick or hungry shall they be, but lost until under Zarkon's banner they fight."
Keith drops to the floor in pain and Lance kneels by him in concern. "Keith!" Lance steals a gaze all around him. He is the only one besides Haggar's crew who is not writhing in agony.
"You are not a member of the crew," Haggar observes. "The curse is not affecting you." She traces her fingers along his chin. Lance feels as though he can't breathe. "I will give you a chance to spare yourself. Join Zarkon's fleet under my ship."
'No one will think less of you.' Kolivan's words echo in Lance's mind, but he doesn't dwell on them. If there is one thing he's learned growing up with pirates, it’s that no two pirates are the same. Lance will take the Blade of Marmora over Zarkon's bloodthirst any day. They aren't his blood family, but they had become his family in the things that mattered.
"Screw you," he tells the witch. "I'm not leaving the Blade."
She shoves her bony hands against his forehead in response. Lance tries to move a hand, a finger - anything, but he can't. He's frozen in a type of spell he can't explain.
"Ah," she practically purrs. "This will be a perfectly impossible task. You must earn the heart of a mermaid if you wish to break the curse."
Lance screams. The pain is excruciating.
"If one of the terms are not met in one century, the Blade of Marmora and its crew will belong to me. Your every thought for the rest of eternity will be to serve my will."
Lightning crashes onto the deck of the ship and Lance knows no more.
