Hell Fire

Not as strong

Lance hummed a little walking to Lotors room in the morning as he now had his own room. He had a bedroom in a galra ship, it was small but not like a cell, he had a bed and a closet, a window to space. It was weird.

"Good morning Lotor, You in here?" Lance walked into the princes room casually as he paused seeing Lotor mid putting on a shirt. But that wasn't what surprised him... Lance looked at him catching his breath while Lotor looked startled.

His lavender skin was instead a flawless sun kiss tan that was almost as dark as Lance. But with purple altean marks against his cheekbones and on his back.

"Whoa," Lance took a step back as Lotors fearful face turned to anger.

"Get the hell out! Why would you not knock?!" Lotor raised his voice as he quickly turned away to shift his skin back to purple and throw his shirt on. Lance could see his hands visibly shaking.

"Ezor couldn't find you, I went to go get you and I thought you'd..." Lance fumbled with his words as Lotor glared at him over his shoulder.

"Congratulations you are correct," Lotor stormed pass him with a scowl.

"Lotor I'm sorry I didn't mean to, it seemed urgent," Lance explained.

"It's prince lotor to you Paladin, what did you need?" Lotor snapped in a low tone at him.

"Your no prince of mine," Lance challenged back.

"Only reason here is cause you chose me like book on a shelf, So why should I treat you like a high and mighty emperor when I was technically kidnapped and tortured?" Lance crossed his arms glaring at the back of Lotors head as they stopped but the prince didn't look back at him.

"And what do you want me to say? To do!? To show even more weakness? Let you go back to your home planet or back to that team you call friends?" Lotor didn't turn to him yet.

"Your not weak! Your the quiznexing Prince of the empire!" Lance scoffed.

"I'm the exiled prince of the empire! The altean and galra hybrid! I'm not galran enough to be strong, i actually have to work and prove my worth," Lotor spun and grabbed lances upper arm in anger with a snarl.

"Lotor your hurting me," Lance grabbed his wrist with wide eyes.

Lotor glared down at his hand grasping the Paladin, he released with his jaw clenched tightly.

"You say I'm not weak but I will not be patronized by you, I am never enough! This is the only way for no one to get hurt," He snarled. "My altean blood is a burden,"

"Lotor stop, please," Lance whispered as they where six inches apart. He could see Lotor wasn't really angry with him, but the prince was angry with himself. For something he couldn't control.

Lotor turned away from him.

Lance stepped closer and leaned his head against Lotors back, wrapping his arms around his stomach as Lotor was frozen by the embrace.

"Why do you think I was okay with being taken?" He sighed resting himself against Lotor with a calm face.

"You notice I'm not fine because... We're the same aren't we? Not enough for our own kind, scared to show who we really are, I'm a seventh wheel of Voltron and your an exiled prince," Lance explained as he felt Lotor relax against him and bowed his head down. Neither of them could see the others vulnerability.

"But your still a leader, people respect and follow you, your generals need you," Lance gulped a little closing his eyes. "I respect you as a man, not because your galra or altean..."

Lotor flinched a little when lance let go of him, he let out a soft breathe he didn't know he was holding when he turned back to face him. Only to see lance walking away.

"Lance wait," Lotor grabbed his wrist and Lance turned to him with a frown.

"I am truly sorry... For everything, everything that I've done or forced you too do," he looked at Lance sincerely.

"I'm tired prince Lotor, come get me when you need something ," Lance said with a slight rasped to his voice and went to his own room.

---------

"For Narti,"

Bang

Lance bolted from his bed with a terrified gasp as he held his chest clenching his shirt with wide fearful eyes. Sweat dripped down his face and drenched his shirt.

"What..." He panted running a hand through his hair and whipped his face from the sweat, pulling his knees to his chest closing his eyes, trying to forget the nightmare.

Ever since he nearly died from the injuries and fever after Hagar tortured him he could only hear a muffled voice he's never heard before and a gunshot ringing in his ears before he woke up again. Hearing someone's death but had no idea who...

"Oh my god, what's wrong with me?"

He got up from his twin size bed and slipped on a pair of boots while reaching for his hand guns he kept under the pillow.

"I need to get out of here and get some air," he charged them up and went to the training deck for target practice.