We're back with chapter two! In which Lotor was planned to appear, and does, technically, but doesn't get a speaking part just yet, lol. Writer 101- sometimes things just don't work out like you plan them to, and when they don't, it's better to try and not to force it. Rushed writing is bad writing!

who you are in the dark

chapter two

offer

His first visitor was a cat.

For a long moment, all he could do was stare at it. It didn't look exactly like an Earth cat, and there had been space mice back on the castle-ship, but even if this might be some kind of alien cat, it still didn't explain what it was doing here, in his cell. For a minute, he debated pinching himself, but dismissed the idea once he realized he had no idea how to do that with claws.

If this was a dream, he'd be human.

This had to be some trick of Haggar's. There was no other reason for this strange space cat to be in his cell.

And yet, though he knew that, he found himself holding out his hand anyways. He was more of a dog person, really, but he liked cats well enough.

For a long moment, the cat did nothing, merely staring at him. It didn't flinch away from him, which is what he would have expected it to do- his hand was massive in comparison to the cat, easily twice the size of its head.

Needless to say, when it approached him, it took him by surprise. Pressing its head into his massive hand, heedless of his wicked claws, the cat let out a faint rumble which he could only conclude was some kind of purr, if not one that was strange, distorted.

Probably because this was a space cat, but still.

He probably shouldn't be doing this. The chances that this wasn't one of the witch's tricks was low. Maybe she had sent it here to judge his state of mind- maybe she'd thought he'd maul the cat. He had just come from the arena, and hadn't had long to cool down from it before he'd noticed the cat.

He wasn't that far gone, though. He'd gotten better at keeping himself in check, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the witch noticed, and changed her tactics once again. He didn't know how much longer he could keep her at bay, but for as long as he could, he would.

Until the moment he couldn't anymore, he would hold out.

But even if this was one of the witch's tricks, he couldn't deny that the strange cat pulled at some part of him. A faint smile parting his lips, Keith stroked it, careful of his claws, not wanting to risk hurting it.

It continued to purr, rubbing itself against his hand, drawing closer to him. With it sitting right in front of him, purring like a motorboat, he couldn't deny the strange sense of peace that washed over him.

"You're not scared of me, huh?"

The words came out as a faint whisper, causing the cat's ears to flick, peering up at him. His faint smile turning rueful, he lightly stroked it underneath its chin, using the side of his finger to avoid his claws, causing it to close its eyes in pleasure.

Maybe it was just because it was used to being around Galra, he thought. To another of his kind- and it was his kind now, he probably didn't look all that monstrous, but to him, that didn't matter. Even without a mirror to see his own reflection, he knew enough of what he looked like to glean that to anyone else, he probably did.

If he went back to Earth, he wondered how long it would take him to turn into some kind of local cryptid. The thought caused him to laugh in spite of himself, wondering what it would be like to be on the other side of such a hunt.

"Didn't know the Galra even kept pets." Keith muttered, his tail looping around to his front, tip of it dangling in front of the cat. It cracked one eye open, watching it carefully for a second, before it reached out, trying to grab at the tip. He darted it out of the way just in time, just out of its reach.

He didn't need to worry about its claws. The scales that covered his tail were thick, tough to pierce. He'd barely even feel it, even if it did catch it.

Cracking a grin, he watched as the cat doggedly tried to pursue his tail, each time just a bit too slow to grasp it. It was funny, really. Here he was, teasing a cat with his tail, but it was still the most normal he had felt in ages.

"Wonder if you have a name." Keith said.

He didn't know why he said that. It probably did. It wasn't like it could answer him anyways. He was pretty sure space cats worked like regular cats in that regard, and however animalistic he'd gotten, it wasn't enough to understand what any of the beasts in the arena were saying, so he doubted he suddenly spoke cat, much less space cat.

Not that he needed to understand the beasts in the arena. He was pretty sure they were just screaming. Which he could relate to, a lot.

Eventually lowering his tail, he allowed the cat to grasp at it with its claws. It wasted no time in doing so, sinking them in, shortly followed by its teeth, but just as he thought, it didn't hurt at all. He could barely even feel it.

Smiling, he let it gnaw at the tip of his tail for awhile, before he deftly pulled it away, moving it back behind him. The cat peered curiously in that direction, but didn't seem too interested in chasing it.

"Good kitty." He mumbled, stroking its head again.

His choice of words reminded him of the red lion- and he tried not to think on it. The red lion wasn't his any longer, and never again would be. It must have been months since he had been captured, so there was no doubt that they had found a new red paladin by now.

He didn't blame them in the least. They were fighting a war, they couldn't afford to not have all five lions.

"Don't suppose you know a way out of here?" Keith asked.

Even if the cat did, he doubted he'd be able to follow it. It would have been a squeeze even when he was human, and now he was twice that size.

The cat's ears flicked, and so did his own. He could hear what it heard- the sound of metal striking metal, the approaching footsteps of a sentry. It pulled away from him then, dashing up the wall and into a small vent so quick, that it was gone before he could even blink.

There it went.

If that was a trick of the witch's, he'd probably given her everything she wanted. But even if it was, it was worth it, if only to feel normal for the span of a few minutes.

And if it wasn't... then he wondered.

There was someone else in his cell.

He couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, but he could smell them.

He suspected his sense of smell was even stronger than that of other Galra, his senses sharpened by his time in the arena, or possibly made that way by the witch. He'd picked up on their scent from the moment he'd been thrown back in his cell, but thus far, they hadn't done anything.

They were just watching.

Fair enough. He didn't know who this invisible intruder was, but two could play at that game. Closing his eyes, Keith drew in a long breath, crossing his legs, resting his arms on them. Curling his tail around his legs, he steadied his breathing, trying to shake of the adrenaline that was still coursing through him from the arena.

It had been a vicious match, but he'd won. His back was still throbbing from where he had been slammed to the ground, but he'd managed to break free before the thing could bite his head off, turning the fight around. Now it was dead, and he was not.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Shiro would be thrilled to learn that he had finally taken up meditation. He had tried to get him into it back at the Garrison, as a means to help deal with his anger issues, but he'd never taken to it. Never had the patience.

Guess in hindsight, him being half Galra explained a lot. His temper, for one.

No wonder he never fit in.

Drawing in a deep breath, he let go of such thoughts. It did him no good to focus on the past now. It was fixed, it wouldn't change. All he could do now was focus on the present- try to figure out a way out of here.

Figure out who this person in his cell was.

They smelled like a Galra, but not wholly. There was something else intermingled in their scent, something he had never smelled before. Maybe another halfbreed, like him.

They smelled, he thought, vaguely of the cat.

Whoever this was, they couldn't be with the witch. She wouldn't have made the mistake of sending someone in that she knew he would be able to smell. She was the one who had created him, in a sense. It turned his stomach to know that she now knew his own body better than he did, so he tried not to dwell on it.

Cracking one eye open, without moving, he peered in the direction the scent came from. "I know you're there."

"Hm," the intruder had the audacity to sound impressed, "-what gave me away?"

"Your scent."

"Wow," it was a woman's voice, he thought, opening both eyes now, "-good nose."

When she finally chose to show herself, she was right in front of him. He knew that much, he just hadn't expected her to be so close- there was barely any distance between their faces. It must have shown on his, because she gave him a coy smile, pulling back away, sitting on the ground in front of him.

He was right about one thing- there was no way she was a full blooded Galra. If it weren't for the yellow sclera and her scent, he might have never even guessed.

There was the armor too, but it was like no other armor he'd seen before within the Empire's ranks. The mark of the Galra Empire was emblazoned on its shoulders, but aside from that, there was nothing to suggest at first glance that she was with them. It was more than enough to catch his attention.

"What are you even doing?"

Letting out a faint snort, Keith couldn't help but think she had a lot of nerve. She was the one who had broken into his cell- and yes, he did recognize the irony in that statement- and she was asking him questions?

"Meditating."

He saw no reason to lie- whoever she was, it was clear she wasn't with Haggar. That didn't mean he trusted her- but for the moment, his curiosity won out.

"Huh," she seemed to frown, and only now did he realize she was mimicking his crosslegged posture, "-sounds boring."

"Entertainment hours are over." Keith told her, not missing a beat.

"Oh, funny." She remarked, lifting her brows. "Guess that nasty witch hasn't gotten to your sense of humor yet."

"Guess not." He replied.

"So," pressing her hands on her knees, she peered curiously at him, "-you got a name?"

"What, you don't know it already?" Keith asked, cocking a brow.

"It's not in any of your files." She admitted. "So no."

Wow. The one thing he had actually told them, and they hadn't even bothered to write it down. Figured.

"I don't know how it is where you're from," Keith told her, looking her square in the eye, "-but whereI'm from, you're supposed to give a name to get one."

She frowned at that, but then shrugged her shoulders. "Fair enough. It's Ezor."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith studied her, trying to figure out just what her angle here was. If she wasn't with Haggar, then who was she with?

"Keith."

"Keith." Ezor repeated. "Weird name."

Twitching, Keith grit his teeth. His name felt like the only human thing he had left, he wasn't about to let some random Galra insult it. "Look, what do you even want from me? I'm guessing you didn't break in here just to make small talk."

"Oh, feisty." Ezor remarked. "I like it."

Letting out a low growl, Keith felt his fur bristle. "Just cut to the chase already."

"Wow," Ezor frowned, tilting her head, "-and to think I came here to offer you a way out."

That stopped him cold, wondering if he had heard her right. A way out?

Instantly, he was suspicious. She was Galra, however halfblooded, and any offer made by the Galra was suspect.

Except... he was Galra too, wasn't he? Did that make him automatically untrustworthy? And his mother, whoever she had been, was she untrustworthy too? He struggled to imagine his father, his kind, patient father, falling in love with someone who held the beliefs of the Galra Empire close to her heart.

He hated to imagine him being tricked even more.

And his father had been in love with his mother. As little as he spoke about her, Keith knew that much.

But no, this was different. Maybe her armor wasn't familiar to him, but it still bore the emblem of the Galra Empire. Maybe- maybe- there were Galra out there who weren't part of it, who could be trusted, but however open her personality seemed, he didn't think she was one of them.

Nor was whoever was pulling her strings.

Whoever they were, he doubted the offer was being made from the goodness of their heart. They probably wanted something from him- information about Voltron, the castle-ship, maybe the paladins or Allura. Maybe they wanted his loyalty, which they would find even harder to get from him than information, and that was already hard enough.

"What's the catch?" Keith asked, choosing not to mince words.

"No catch." Ezor told him, spreading out her hands. "There's someone who wants to talk to you, but once that's over and done with, you can just leave if you want."

Letting out a snort, Keith gave her a skeptical look. Or so he thought, at least- most Galra he'd met were stoic, and he didn't know how his own expressions worked on his changed face. He didn't even know if he still had pupils.

"They want to make me an offer."

"Oh, smart too." Ezor noted.

"And if I refuse the offer?" Keith questioned.

"We'll just drop you off anywhere you like." Ezor told him with a shrug.

That he found really hard to believe. If he didn't accept their terms, they'd just let him go? Just like that? No way could it be that simple.

"I don't believe you." Keith told her, frank in his words.

"It's not like you've got a whole lot of options here." Ezor pointed out. "It's obvious the paladins aren't coming for you, and I don't think the witch is going to stop until she gets what she wants, which I'm pretty sure is you, feral and foaming at the mouth. This is pretty much a one time offer."

"I could escape on my own." Keith noted, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, you've been doing a great job of that so far." Ezor remarked. "Do you even know how long you've been here?"

Narrowing his eyes, Keith didn't answer that. He didn't. He had some vague idea- that they were dealing with a matter of months, rather than weeks, he had no doubt.

"You don't, do you." Ezor said, her tone almost vaguely amused. "Wanna know?"

"Fine," closing his eyes, Keith got a feeling he'd regret this, "-how long?"

"Eight months, going off your Earth calendar. Acxa did the math!"

Snapping his eyes open, Keith froze. Eight months had been longer than he'd been expecting. He didn't know how the Galra kept time, but in Earth terms, that was four months shy of a year.

"Eight months, and you haven't found a single chance to escape." Ezor told him. "What makes you think that's going to change before the witch breaks you?"

Frowning, Keith couldn't deny that she had a point. He hated it, but she did. The witch was taking every precaution with him- losing Shiro must have taught her not to underestimate humans. This might very well be his only chance.

He could either walk out of here on his own two feet, or leave it on four, feral and animalistic, any trace of human in him long since destroyed- and who knew what Haggar would use him for after that. He'd be gambling with his own mind, and no matter how he turned it, he didn't like his chances. He was stubborn, and determined too- but so was Haggar.

Eight months was a long time. He was willing to bet that he could hold out for another eight months, but given the scale of the Galra Empire, he doubted that Voltron could put an end to it in that time frame. If there was no way for him to escape, then waiting for Voltron to defeat Zarkon was his only other option- but there was no way that Shiro would lead a head on charge against Central Command without a solid plan.

No matter what option he picked, it wasn't good.

Take a chance on the unknown, or stay here, and risk losing himself? Either way, he might be used against Voltron, but if he had to choose, then he chose the one that left him with coherent thought.

"Will they really just let me leave if I don't agree?" Keith asked, still suspicious. No matter what her answer was, it wasn't a feeling that would change, but no matter how he turned it over in his head, if he wanted out of here, this was shaping up to be his best option.

"That's what I just said." Ezor told him, sounding almost vaguely exasperated, clearly annoyed at having to repeat herself. "Anywhere you like. Well, I mean, not back to Voltron, that one might be a little tricky, but anywhere aside from that."

Letting out a faint snort, Keith didn't even bother to keep it in. Go back to Voltron? He was the enemy now, how could he go back? Even if they managed to recognize him, the only thing that would accomplish was to force them all to realize that they had been living with the enemy for months- or years, in Shiro's case.

He couldn't let them see him like this.

"Fine," getting to his feet, standing at his full height, Keith stared down at Ezor, "-if you say you can get me out of here, lets see you do it."

"Oh good!" Springing to her feet, Keith dimly noted that he was taller than her, though thankfully, not by much. "Now then," opening up the vent, she yanked out a mess of armor, all but shoving it into his hands, "-time to get changed!"

And here he said he'd never wear Galra armor.

The foot soldier armor that Ezor had thrust at him was just as uncomfortable as it looked. It wasn't designed for someone with a tail, but there had been a small slit made ahead of time at the base of his spine where his tail began. He coiled it around his right leg, fully aware that it made him stand out, and wanting to draw as little attention to himself as possible. It threw his balance off a bit, but he managed.

The helmet clearly wasn't designed for someone with his ears either, and they felt cramped inside of it. The sensation of pain he was getting from them was a new one, but he tried not to think on it.

He couldn't turn invisible like Ezor. He'd never see a Galra with that kind of ability, but then, it was obvious she wasn't full Galra.

The same had been true for him- once.

Not any longer. That much was made obvious by the fact that the moment he put the armor on, nobody so much as stopped to question him.

He blended in.

The thought made him sick to his stomach, so he tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused on where Ezor was heading, tracking her movements by her scent. The fighter that she lead him to was nondescript, and he supposed it was that way on purpose.

Guess he was right about her not being with the witch. But from the way they were sneaking around the ship, it didn't seem like they were entirely with Zarkon, either.

And that caught his interest.

Yanking off the damned helmet as soon as they were inside the fighter, Keith tossed it to one side, letting his tail unwind from around his leg. Rubbing his ears, he was grateful for their freedom, feeling them twitch underneath his hands.

Glancing at the pilot's seat, he watched as Ezor slid in, humming to herself. He felt a pang of jealousy, but seeing as he didn't even know where they were going, it was better to leave the controls to her.

Now would be a good chance to try and take her out, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that would actually work. He hadn't grown enough into his new skin to shake the awkward gait it had given him, like his joints wanted to bend in a different way than he was using them. Fighting a mindless beast was one thing, but a trained opponent?

Better to save his strength.

He wasn't going to lie either- the minute they left Central Command behind them, he felt his breathing grow a bit easier. There were no physical shackles on him, but he felt them falling away as they made their way into open space, putting distance between them.

For all he knew, he was just headed to a new prison.

At least this one might be free of creepy space witches- an improvement, in his book.

Even small Galra fighters were capable of making hyperspace jumps, it looked like. Glancing at the screens, he tried in vain to figure out where they were heading- but though he'd started to pick up on the spoken language, his knowledge of their written language was nonexistent.

There were no reflective surfaces in here either, he noted. Even the armor that he had been given was dull. He considered asking, but decided against it.

"Kova."

Ezor's voice broke him from his thoughts, causing him to blink.

"You asked." Ezor told him, peering back at him. "His name is Kova."

For the span of a moment, he couldn't figure out what she was talking about. He hadn't asked the name of the person who sent her, though in hindsight, he probably should have. The only name he'd asked for recently was-

"...the cat?" Keith ventured, uncertain.

"What's a cat?" Ezor asked.

Right. Of course a space cat wouldn't be called a cat. He didn't know why the space mice were called mice, come to think of it.

"It's an Earth animal." He supplied. "It looks like the- was that your cat?"

"Oh, you're talking about Kova!" Ezor remarked, her eyes wide with understanding. "Kova's not my cat," she told him, stressing the unfamiliar word, "-he's Narti's."

Frowning, Keith stared at her. "How do you even know I asked?"

"Ah, ah, ah, that's our secret." Ezor told him, wagging her finger. "We can't just tell you everything, not until you've agreed to join us."

Cocking a brow, he watched as she visibly flinched. "...so you are trying to get me to join you."

"...any chance we can just pretend I didn't say that?" Ezor ventured. "Lo- my commander wouldn't be happy if he found out I told you that."

So whoever she was bringing him to, they were male. He didn't know if commander was his actual rank or not, or she had just made it up on the fly as a cover, but just as he thought, they wanted him to throw his allegiance in with them. That would be an offer he would be turning down, as if he had any doubt about it before.

At best, they would keep their word, and ditch him on the closest habitable planet. At worst, he'd just find himself in a new prison.

"You got a mirror on this ship?" Keith asked. Might as well try and take advantage of her blunder as best he could.

"Why would you need a- oh!" Watching as it clicked, understanding dawned across Ezor's face. "You don't know what you look like."

That confirmed that she knew his form had been altered. That didn't come as much of a surprise either. If she had read over his files, as she said she had, then there was no way that wouldn't earn some kind of a mention.

"We don't have any mirrors, but I might be able to work something up with the monitors." Ezor told him. "Will that keep you from mentioning you know what to you know who?"

"Deal." Keith told her.

Frowning, she considered it for a moment, before she shrugged her shoulders. Pressing a few buttons, he nearly jumped as a screen appeared in front of him, turned reflective by some trick.

A Galra stared back at him.

He knew that much already, but it was one thing to know it, and another thing to see it. He was right about one thing- his face hadn't changed that much. The shape of his jaw and the set of his mouth were virtually unchanged from when he was human, and though his nose was broader, the overall shape of it was the same.

But everything else?

It was like looking at a stranger.

Placing a hand up against his face, as if to confirm the Galra reflected back at him was really him, he felt something in him seize up as it mimicked his movements. Golden eyes stared back at him, and even though they were his own, he couldn't for the life of him figure out where they were looking.

At least the shape of them was still the same, if nothing else. His hair might have changed color- completely white now, like it had picked a fight with Shiro's hair and won, but his brows were still black, a stark contrast to his violet fur.

Touching the tip of one of his ears, Keith frowned, watching the expression play out on his new face. The emotion didn't carry in his eyes, which made him harder to read, but otherwise it looked the same as it always had, no more stoic than he had been before. Toying with the tip of his ear, he confirmed what he had determined when he'd felt them out- large and fuzzy, almost like a bat.

Dropping his hand, he traced the fur on his face. There were markings on either cheek, set in a deeper shade of violet than the rest of his fur. Trailing them back, he lifted up his hair, straining to see where they carried down to the back of his neck, wondering how far they went.

Lowering his hair, Keith stared back at his reflection.

If he didn't already know he was part human, he'd never be able to guess it now. It was like the balance had flipped completely, and he hated it.

He hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Though he still hadn't fully settled in his skin, this change felt pretty permanent, and he couldn't imagine that Haggar's work could be undone so easily. The only thing left was for him to accept it.

This- this Galra was him now.

He was right about one thing- the team would never be able to recognize him like this- not even Shiro. With his PTSD, he would probably see the Galra long before he saw his brother reflected in him. He looked every inch like the enemy, and for a second, he didn't feel like a human wearing a monster's skin, he just felt like a monster.

Like a Galra.

It set into him then, in a way it hadn't before. He was Galra. He'd always been Galra. The only thing different was that he now looked more like it.

Closing his eyes, he let out a shuddering breath.

"That bad, huh?"

Snapping his eyes open, it was with a jolt that he recalled he wasn't alone. Ezor had spun the pilot's chair around, legs pulled up, sitting in it crosslegged as she stared at him. Narrowing his eyes, he glowered at her, fighting the urge to bare his teeth.

"Hey, I get it." Lifting her hands, she gave him an almost sympathetic look. "That witch did a real number on you. Can't be easy to deal with."

"Didn't ask for your commentary." Keith hissed. The last thing he wanted was sympathy from a Galra- especially not a some halfbreed that got to look the part.

"Suit yourself." Shrugging her shoulders, Ezor turned her chair back around. "We're here."

Lifting his head, Keith turned his gaze towards the cockpit. As the last vestiges of the hyperspace jump faded, leaving them back in normal space, his eyes focused on a single ship. It bore the same insignia as Ezor's armor, but it was like no Galra ship he had ever seen before.

"Where are we?"

The question slipped out, unbidden, and he didn't miss the flash of amusement that danced in Ezor's eyes. She ignored him, instead beginning the docking procedures. Watching her closely, Keith hung back, his tail stilling itself.

There were four figures waiting for them in the hangar- all Galra, and all wearing the same armor as Ezor- and all flanking a central figure. The tallest one flanked the back, broad shouldered, something aggressive in her stance. Perched on the shoulder of the left was the space cat from before- and it was with a shock that he noticed that she appeared to have no eyes.

Narti, some part of him supplied.

The one to the right was more blue than purple, but she was still Galra, marked by the yellow of her sclera. None of them seemed to follow the standard Galran appearance, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were all halfbreeds.

Like him.

But it was the one in the center that drew the most attention. There was something commanding to his presence, to his body language, the way he carried himself- something self-assured, but also dangerous. His armor was slightly different from the rest- whoever he was, it wasn't hard to guess that he was the one in command here.

If he tried to fight him in his current state, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Narrowing his eyes, Keith squared his shoulders. Whoever this was, if he expected him to be so grateful for the rescue that he would agree to his terms immediately, he had another thing coming.

But somehow, he didn't get that feeling.

"Oh right!" Ezor said. "Nearly forgot."

Frowning, he turned to look back at her, watching as she rifled around in the cockpit. Brows furrowing, he wondered just what it was she was doing, before she popped back up again, a pair of familiar objects in hand.

The red bayard- and his mother's knife.

It had been tucked away in his paladin armor when they had raided the transportation hub. He didn't think he'd need it, but he'd brought it along with him anyways.

"Yours, right?" Ezor asked.

Seeing them both in the hands of a Galra made his skin prickle, fur standing on end. "Yes."

"Great, because let me tell you, Haggar has no discernible management strategy." Ezor told him. "I didn't even know where to look to find your armor."

"Not like it would still fit." He muttered, half to himself.

"Hm," frowning, Ezor arched her brows, "-good point."

Walking forward, she stopped just short of him, holding out both the knife and the bayard. Brow furrowing, his brain ground to a halt, for a moment, unable to comprehend what was happening, what was being offered.

In the next, he took them from her, before she could change her mind. Feeling the weight of his mother's knife in his hand, he felt a certain sense of peace wash over him.

It was funny. His mother had to have been Galra, which meant that this knife had to be a Galra knife. And yet... no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to hate his mother, or the knife that she had left behind for him.

Optimism wasn't something he was known for, but he wanted to believe that his mother, at least, wasn't like all the rest.

The holster in the armor he'd been given wasn't designed for knives, but he shoved it in there anyways. Hanging the red bayard off of a hook on the armor, he felt a little better having the pair of them by his side- even if he had lost the right to wield the latter.

Maybe he could find a way to send it back to the castle-ship, if all went well.

"Okay," steeling himself, Keith stared straight forward, "-let's get this over with."