It was the Red Lion who suggested it.

Lance had been talking with her after a busy day of rebuilding cities and some minor training exercises. Both the Lions and the paladins were still recovering from the Battle for Earth, as it had come to be known, but Keith had decided that they were healed enough that they could start helping with reconstruction.

He had also decided that they could start training again – nothing too extreme, of course, but training nonetheless. Everyone had groaned, but no one was really surprised. It was Keith, after all.

On that particular day, they had formed Voltron and practiced with the sword. They hadn't done anything too fancy; just cut through some of the rock formations around the garrison. Lance had been having fun – maybe a little too much fun. It wasn't long before Keith started micromanaging the way he was wielding Voltron's most recognizable weapon.

""Stop twirling the sword," he says," Lance complained to Red after the fact, leaning against her paw. "As if he doesn't do the same thing with his bayard! I mean, I don't exactly watch him practice but I'm sure he does it!"

The Red Lion simply looked at her paladin, listening curiously as Lance's voice carried across her huge hanger within the Altas.

"And then he started correcting my sound effects! Like, who does that?" He stood up and gave an impersonation of Keith that was not entirely, or at all, flattering. ""It's not a slice, it's a cut." "I told you to stab it, why are you shouting about chopping?"" Lance threw his hands up in exasperation. "Seriously, who cares? It's a sword, it's not rocket science! Besides, it's not exactly like I would know this stuff!" He returned to Red's paw and threw himself across it so that he was laying on his back. "I've only had one lesson in sword fighting, and that was ages ago."

He let out a frustrated sigh. Red tilted her giant head, and Lance could sense that she was thinking about something.

"What is it?" he asked broodily, distracted by his foul mood. When Red shared her idea, however, he snapped to attention and sat bolt upright.

"No. No, no, nonononono. Absolutely not."

Lance could feel Red's eye roll, but he stood his ground.

"It's not like he would actually do it!" he protested. "And besides, that's not even my thing!"

Red gave him a deadpan look. Lance didn't even know the Lions were capable of that look, and yet Red pulled it off so effectively that he immediately gave up all attempts at argument. He huffed in annoyance.

"And that's the problem, isn't it?" he muttered. Then he sighed. "Fine, I'll go talk to the samurai."

"Keith?"

The mullet in question looked up from where he was sharpening his Marmora blade. Lance breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken the directions of fifteen different people, about thirty wrong turns, and not one but two incidents with the fire suppression system for Lance to successfully navigate his way through the many, many, many levels of the Atlas.

Honestly he was surprised he had found the Black Paladin at all.

"Oh, hey Lance," Keith greeted him, putting down his blade.

Lance waited for him to say something else.

He didn't.

What followed was a long, awkward pause. Lance had blanked on what to say now that he was actually here, and so spent the pause trying to come up with something. Eventually, though, Keith flicked his eyes to his blade then back to Lance, and it was then that he seemed to notice that Lance was in his paladin armor. This revelation was apparently enough to prompt the Black Paladin to speech.

"Um… Can I… help you with anything?"

Lance shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Of all the times to blank, this was one of the worst. Why was this so hard? He'd know Keith for… years, now. At least he thought so – time dilation was confusing. Regardless, Keith was the team leader. Asking him for a favor shouldn't be this much of an ordeal.

Lance let out a sigh of frustration and shoved aside his doubts like Red was always telling him to do. He walked into the room, hands on his hips and eyes on the floor. The other paladin raised an eyebrow and stood up, turning his full attention on Lance.

Lance lifted his gaze so that he was looking Keith straight in the eye. "Teach me how to use a sword," he said, his tone a bit more desperate than he had intended.

Keith's eyebrow rose even higher. "A sword?" he repeated in surprise. "Um…Why? Not that it's a bad idea," he added hastily, "but you use guns a lot more than we use Voltron's sword. Why the change?"

Lance blinked as a thought came to him. "But… Wait, do you not…?"

He trailed off as he realized that Keith probably didn't know about his bayard's third form. In fact, now that he thought about it he wasn't sure that anyone on the team knew about it except Allura. There simply hadn't been time to talk about it, what with Lotor's shenanigans and then the whole mess with Shiro's clone. Then on the journey back to Earth they'd all been so preoccupied with the idea of going home that Lance simply forgot about mentioning his new weapon.

In all honesty, he only remembered that he had it due to Voltron's use of its sword during the Battle for Earth.

"…Well, I guess not then," he muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Keith asked. In his voice was a hint of the tone he got when he was annoyed. Lance summoned his bayard, realizing that he probably should have started with that.

"A while back I was training," he explained, "and, well, this happened."

Lance's bayard glowed white as he focused his quintessence. The change did not happen as naturally as he would have liked; it took a far more substantial effort of will to form the sword than it did to form his rifles. Nevertheless, after a moment of concentration he held the ancient blade in his hand.

Keith's eyes widened, then he whistled in appreciation.

"That's a broadsword," he stated with mild surprise, scanning the weapon with a practiced eye.

"An Altean one apparently," Lance added, remembering his conversation with the princess from what seemed like deca-phoebs ago.

"I don't think it matters; the concept should be the same," Keith remarked. "It's primarily a cutting weapon, used to slash instead of stab. As a melee weapon, it-"

"Melee weapon?" Lance got a sinking feeling in his stomach; Keith was being technical again.

"Close-range combat," Keith clarified. "It can do some serious damage if you use it right, even though it's relatively light-weight. You can use it with one hand or two, though people usually prefer to have a shield. Also…" Keith paused as he glanced from the blade to Lance. The Red Paladin was trying very hard not to look overwhelmed.

"This is all going right over your head, isn't it?" Keith said more than asked.

"Uh…"

Keith closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. Lance winced, but then Keith snapped his eyes open again. They glinted with determination.

"All right, follow me," ordered Keith as he suddenly made for the door.

"Wait, what? Where are we going?" asked Lance in surprise, trailing after his leader.

"The training deck," replied Keith, stopping in the doorway, "right after I get my bayard and armor."

"The Atlas has a training deck?" Lance asked in surprise. The next second he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose "Wait, nevermind, of course it does – and of course you know where it is," he added in a provocative tone.

"Are you coming or what?" Keith demanded sharply, turning and stalking down the hall.

Lance smirked as he followed the leader.

"Remember, the most important thing is your stance!" Keith yelled as he took another swing at his teammate.

"It's kind of hard to focus on my feet when my hands have to block something every two seconds!" retorted Lance, raising his shield to block the blow. He tried to slash at Keith's legs, but the Black Paladin easily parried.

"Whatever you do with your hands will have no power unless your legs are supporting you!" he explained, going in for another strike. He struck hard enough that Lance took a step back, and he seized the opportunity by sweeping out his foot and knocking the other boy flat on his back. Keith both saw and heard the air leave Lance's lungs as he landed with an oof.

"That's 3 – 0," Keith said. He tried not to sound smug, but it didn't quite work. Lance let out a groan from where he lay on the floor.

"Ugh, how do you make this look so easy?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"Practice," replied Keith, holding out his hand. Lance took it and stood with a grunt. "No one masters the sword in a day," Keith continued as the other boy dragged his feet to the water fountain. "It took me years to master this."

Lance sighed. "Well then it's gonna take me decades," he mumbled before gulping down mouthfuls of wonderfully cool water.

"It won't take you decades; probably less than a year actually."

Lance did a spit take; he hadn't meant for Keith to hear that. "Months?" he managed to choke out between coughs.

Keith eyed him in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked. Lance nodded and motioned for him to continue. Keith shrugged.

"Like I said, it took me years to master this – as in, it took me years to master multiple forms of swordplay."

"Oh, so this is play, huh?" Lance rasped. Keith chose to ignore him.

"You're only learning to fight with one type of sword. Granted, it's one of the more difficult swords to master, but you're actually not half bad. For a rookie, that is. Keep at it and you could be a deadly asset in a close-combat situation."

Lance went quiet as he considered that.

"Isn't that… more your thing?" he asked quietly after a moment. "What about my rifles? I don't want to stop being the team sharpshooter."

"Who said anything about you giving up shooting?" asked Keith in surprise. "You don't have to stop – it'd actually be a shame if you did. You've saved my life – all our lives – multiple times with that skill."

Lance looked up at him with over exaggerated disbelief. "What? Is that… praise? From you? Pinch me I must be dreaming."

Keith rolled his eyes. "If you want me to take it back…" he muttered.

"Hey, whoa, no takesies-backsies!" Lance exclaimed. Keith smirked, but his smile fell at Lance's next statement. "Seriously though, I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me since we've met."

Keith opened his mouth, ready with a sharp retort, but something in Lance's tone made him seriously consider the Red Paladin's words.

He thought back to almost three years ago, from his perspective, and tried to remember the last time he said something to Lance that wasn't an insult or an order. The only thing he could think of was when he told Lance to stop worrying about his place on the team, just after they'd found Shiro – or his clone, rather.

It felt like so long ago.

It was long ago.

Keith sighed and looked at his feet; he wished he was better with emotions, he really did.

"Look, Lance, I know I don't always show the most confidence in you or your abilities," he began. "It's just… God I don't know how to say this without it sounding like an excuse." Lance looked up at him in confusion. Keith took a deep breath. "Lance, you're different from me in a lot of ways. I don't always understand you or your actions. But I think… I think that's why Red chose you, back then, to be my second in command."

Lance opened his mouth, probably to ask where the quiznack Keith was going with this (and honestly he wished he knew himself), but the Black Paladin put a hand up before he could say anything. "Please, just let me finish. You're different from me, Lance, but that means that you see things I don't. You're the one who has a strategy when I can't come up with anything. You're the one who has my back in any and every fight. Maybe I don't say it or show it enough, but I trust you, Lance. And I don't trust you just because you're good with a gun or show promise with a sword, but because you're you." He paused. Lance was staring at him, slack-jawed. Keith shifted uncomfortably. "So just… I guess… My point is," he spluttered, "don't stop being you. I'm training you with the sword because you asked, and if you want I'll keep training you, but if you want to stick to your rifles that's fine. It's your bayard."

Keith crossed his arms as he finished. After a moment Lance blinked out of the shock Keith had apparently given him. He looked at his sword, then back at Keith.

"You know…" he trailed off, then sighed. "All right, you shared a speech so now it's my turn."

Keith blinked. "What-"

"I know I was a jerk back when this all started," Lance began, talking over Keith. "I was just… I guess I was trying to prove myself. Everyone at the garrison kept telling me that I wasn't good enough on my own, that I was only a less-talented, slightly less reckless version of you."

Lance glanced away. The Black Paladin's eyes were wide in surprise, but he didn't say anything. Lance kept going.

"Then the Blue Lion happened. Suddenly we were in space, and then we were at war, and through it all it still it seemed like you were one-upping me every chance you got. What made it worse was that I knew you weren't even trying."

Keith coughed awkwardly. Lance flashed him a look but didn't say anything about it.

"Then Shiro… disappeared," he continued as if nothing had happened, "and you became leader. That was when I realized – no, accepted that I just wasn't that good at… anything, except maybe shooting. It… was probably my lowest point. But hey, when you've hit rock bottom the only way left to go is up, right?" He gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "So I started training my butt off, trying to get better at just… being a paladin. I tried even harder when you left and Shiro took over – but that Shiro was a clone so he never really cared about anything I did. But I kept trying, because that was the only thing I coulddo. And, well… that was when I got the sword."

He lifted it so that it was in front of his face, staring at it with an expression that Keith couldn't quite place.

"Allura said that my bayard was showing me that I had greatness within," Lance whispered after a moment. He glanced at Keith. "But… I didn't really have time to think about what that meant. Everything with Lotor and Shiro and Earth happened so fast and I… It was all I could do to keep up with it. Now, though..." his eyes shifted yet again to his blade. "I don't know. But… Maybe Allura was right. Maybe you both are."

There was a note of desperate hope in his voice. Keith looked from the sword to Lance, realizing for the first time how much the weapon and the training meant to him. He put a hand on Lance's shoulder. The other boy looked up at him in surprise.

"She was right," Keith said firmly. "And I know I am." He smirked. "Don't forget it."

Lance smirked back. "You mean like I'm totally not going to forget this bonding moment?"

Lance laughed at Keith's scowl. After a moment, though, Keith couldn't hold his grin back any longer.

"All right, very funny," he said, crossing his arms as Lance's mirth died down. "Now are we going to train or what?"

The other paladin quickly grew serious as he considered the question. Then, after a moment, he smirked.

"Okay samurai," he said, "teach me your ways. I want to be the deadliest soldier the universe has ever seen!" He twirled his sword in an exaggerated movement as he walked back to the middle of the training room. Keith knew he was doing it deliberately and rolled his eyes.

"I told you to stop doing that," he reminded his friend as he summoned his own bayard and took a stance.

"Not a chance, mullet."

The next day the paladins noticed that there was something different during their training. No one could quite place their finger on it, but something had definitely changed. Even the higher-ups at the garrison, who made a point of watching Voltron display its capabilities, commented that their training session seemed "smoother" than usual.

Hunk just shrugged it off, supposing that they were just getting better in general as tends to happen with training.

Pidge rationalized it as a result of spending more time with their Lions – something they had all been doing.

Allura thought it to be a combination of Hunk and Pidge's opinions; she could see the progress they had made during training, but believed that it had been hastened by strong bonds with the Lions.

Keith had a better idea of what had caused the sudden harmony, but kept his mouth shut on the matter. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it all by saying something stupid.

Lance, too, knew what was going on to an extent, and couldn't have been happier about it. True to his word, though, he denied having any heart-to-heart conversations with Keith, even when the other paladins started noticing that they were yelling at each other less and less.

Lance did, however, tell the Red Lion everything. Of course she was smug that she had been right – and wasn't afraid to let her paladin know it – but underneath that Lance could sense pride. She was proud of both of her paladins; of the warriors they were and the friends they had become. She was proud of the progress Lance was making, and proud of the teacher Keith was becoming. She never tired of hearing Lance talk about their training sessions, and never tired of watching him demonstrate the moves he had learned.

She didn't think she would ever get tired of her boys.

Fun Fact: the original title for this was "Boys and Their Swords". Knowing that I was going for a platonic relationship, my beta HopefulHelpful informed me that that could be taken as an innuendo so I changed it.

This is why you have someone edit your writing.

Review with constructive criticism, and let me know if you want to see more from me!