Voltron Daemon AU

Down on the platform of the faculty's monorail station, the snowfall drifting down, Lotor waited with his generals. Had you asked him if this was how he envisioned his plan to seize an outer-reach quintessence refinery, he would of truthfully answered, "No". Of course—that is to say—the original plan had gone as he had anticipated. It was what came after, that he had not. He couldn't of foreseen Princess Allura's distress message, and he hadn't expected to be receiving an injured paladin of Voltron for it. Coiled around his neck his white-headed capuchin monkey, Valerian, fixed his sights on the horizon.

Behind him, similarly wrapped in a cloak against the cold weather, Ezor giggled, 'I'm sorry, I just can't get over this. They are giving us one of them. Like, just hand delivering him right to us.'

Her daemon, a desert fox by the name of Camiya, yapped gleefully, and Einaris, Zethrid's large wart-hog daemon, stamped at the ground. 'It is going to be weird. I always imagined we'd have to give them a smack down before surrender became a thing.' Zethrid agreed.

'Yes. There is a certain sweet irony to it,' Lotor smiled and glanced over his shoulder to Acxa, who had curiously remained silent since they'd come down onto the platform, 'Is there not, Acxa?'

His first-in-command gave a curt, stoic nod. But from the way the german-shepherd daemon at her heel pawed and softly whined at the snow, Lotor knew she was not as composed as she would have him believe.

There was a resounding low hum as the monorail drew closer and pulled to a stop alongside the platform. The double doors slid open to reveal Princess Allura in her pink paladin armour, carrying a dark-skinned young man in her arms. By the blue accents of his matching armour, Lotor would of assumed that he was the Blue Paladin, had he not already been identified as the red one.

The princess looked miserable as she stepped out onto the platform, the tail of her lioness daemon drooping low as she followed. As she made her way toward them, over her shoulder, Lotor spied the other paladins of Voltron.

Two faces he immediately recognised as was the former champion, now Black Paladin, and his beast of daemon; vicious and lethal arena gladiators the pair of them. To the mans left were the Yellow and Green paladins, the former of a rather impressive size and build, whilst the latter was a smaller, bespectacled youth. Her daemon had not settled, evidenced by the rapid change of forms between that of a emerald dragonfly, and a poisonous green frog atop her helmet.

Curiously enough, there was a Blade of Mamora present at the Black Paladin's side. And as though to add to the intrigue, Lotor noted how remarkably human the Blade looked; so much so that the only inclinations of his galra heritage, other than his luxite blade and uniform, was the dark purple colouring of his eyes. Eyes, that did nothing to conceal a torrent of conflict, grief, and pained yearning. All of which, that was singularly focused on the unconscious paladin being brought to him.

Speaking of which. Lotor examined him closely as the princess approached. The paladin—Lance he recalled the princess naming him as—had suffered a severe burn on his abdomen, the affected skin enflamed and charred, with trails of blood and tissue fluid trickling from the wound. Past that, his complexion had a nauseous lack of colour to it, and from their new closeness, Lotor heard his breaths came out strained as tight wheezes.

Valerian grunted in his ear to look down, and Lotor lowered his stare to the quivering ball of white and black feathers tucked into the collar of the paladin's armour. His daemon rose to full alertness, his beady eyes transfixed on the injured bird. Grabby, black hands clenched and unclenched impatiently.

Princess Allura came to a stop before him, and her lioness bared her fangs menacingly, 'If you hurt him—'

'I gave you my my word,' Lotor cut in with a step forward. The space between them was close now, so close that Lotor could have reached out and plucked the paladin from her arms. 'And I am nothing, if not a man of my word, princess. How did he get burnt?'

'Corrupted quintessence, inflicted by one of your father's druids.' The princess spat, and her daemon gave a rumbling growl.

'Oh, nasty stuff.' Ezor remarked beneath her breath, and then, without warning, Valerian sprang. A blur of black and white, he snatched the little bird from the paladin, and returned to Lotor's shoulder in the same fluid movement.

The response was instant. The paladins blanched, starting forward as though they could have closed the distance in time. The princess' face contorted with outrage, but it was the Blade's reaction that seized Lotor's attention. The Black Paladin was attempting to restrain him, the young Blade thrashing and clawing in his hold. His lips were pulled back over his bared teeth—as if he had something intimating to show, no fangs or the like—, and his eyes burnt with hate as they locked into Lotor's.

How interesting. He had seen that same frenzied look before in bonded pairs…Was this paladin this Blade's desired mate? If that were the case, oh— the possibilities made Lotor's lips curl upwards.

Ignoring the princess' rigidness, Lotor looked down when Valerian offered out his prize for inspection. The daemon was a quaint thing, with a fine white plume that was still, somehow, beautiful despite the distressed moulting.

'Poor thing.' Lotor tutted, and noted the greedy glint in Valerian's eye as he clutched the small bird back to his chest. Didn't Lotor know that look; Valerian had just found the newest treasure to add to his hoard.

'Lotor—'

'Now, I ask that you give Lance to me before his health can deteriorate any further.' Lotor interrupted and held out his arms to accommodate.

'Allura!' Cried out the Blade when the princess reluctantly moved to hand over her precious cargo, making her hesitate.

'Tick tock Princess.' Lotor provoked, and had to carefully school his victorious smile when her face crumpled. She pressed Lance into Lotor's arms, and stepped away, clutching onto her own trembling hands, as though she were trying to prevent herself from snatching him back.

The paladin was light, weighing nothing to Lotor. Dark curls, crowned by clumps of white snowflakes, lolled against his breastplate. There was a low heat that sparked in Lotor's stomach. The paladin was admittedly rather attractive, and from what Ezor and Acxa had reported, he was quite the sharpshooter. Yes, Lotor quite looked forward to the time he would be able to see Lance restored to his full health.

'It is time to leave.' Acxa prompted at his shoulder, and Lotor nodded.

'Yes. See to it that they do. I will be attending to the paladin,' He said before giving a slight bow of his head to the princess. 'Until next time, Princess.'

'Come on, buddy. Just—let's calm down.'

'No! We—he needs us!' Keith lashed out, and Shiro grunted when his elbow dug into his ribs.

'Keith! Stop!' He ordered, and shifted his grip, forearms bulging as he grappled his friend back and wrestled him into the full-nelson hold.

'Shiro put me down!' Keith roared, feet flailing just off the ground as he bucked, unable to bring his arms down. Shiro pressed his lips against the strain, but held on, Miyuzuki faring likewise against Asperatia, pinning the shrieking golden-eagle with her sizeable bulk. 'We can—we can still—'

'Keith, I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do now.' Allura said as she stepped back onto the carriage, her fingers tangled into her lioness' coarse fur. The doors closed behind her, and the engine hummed as they pulled away from the station, back to the refinery they'd just come from.

'No. Not nothing. We get ready, we get back to the lions, and we form a blockade around the planet.' Pidge spoke up, her jaw set determined.

'We can stop Lotor from leaving after he heals Lance.' Hunk continued, a smile growing as he followed Pidge's train of thought.

'And trade their passage off planet for Lance's freedom.' Shiro finished, and slowly released Keith when his struggling stopped. Keith took a deep breath in—Shiro smiling to himself at how he silently mouthed, "Patience yields focus" beneath his breath—and released it, steadying himself.

'Then we don't have any time to waste.'

'Sir, the Green Lion has been sighted leaving the atmosphere. What are your next orders?' Acxa reported from the doorway. Lotor gave a thoughtful hum in response, only half-listening as he flicked the syringe he held to collect the air bubbles.

He was sat at the Red Paladin's bedside, having just stripped him to begin treatment. Through his examinations, Lotor had learnt a great deal about human anatomy, and was surprised by the human's resilience to concentrated quintessence. Most species would of long succumbed to the corruption by now, leading Lotor to tribute this resistance to the young man's status as a paladin of Voltron. His body must surely be attuned to the Lion's vast, near endless, supply of quintessence.

He had managed to stabilise Lance for now, a clear oxygen mask over his face, and various electrodes stuck to him hooked up to a monitor. The hologram screen displayed the human's vitals and medical data: heart rate, blood pressure, brain activity, white blood cell count, quintessence levels (which were exceedingly high), and so on. After Lotor had removed the pieces of glass from Lance's abdomen, he had stitched the openings closed with a surgically experienced hand. To finish, he'd applied thick coating of balm to soothe the enflamed skin, and bound it with bandages.

The respirator softly rasped as Lotor leant forward and took the paladin's lax arm to search for a vein. Resting on the pillow beside the sleeping beauty, Valerian was crouched over the unconscious white tag-tail, delicately carding his hands through the bird's feathers. When Acxa's daemon, Acario, had padded over for a closer look, the monkey had tightened his grip and hissed with bared fangs. The message clear: Stay back. Mine.

'Sir?'

'Hm?'

'My lord. I asked, what are your next orders?' Acxa said, shooting her daemon a scornful look as it returned to heel at her side.

Lotor removed the now empty needle from Lance's arm, and set it aside on a tray, 'The faculty is secure?'

'Yes, sir. The empire remains unaware of our actions.'

'There is something more here than a mere quintessence refinery and laboratory. I want this place searched, see what secrets my father has stashed here. What of our prisoner?'

'Complicit, for now.'

Lotor raised a sleek fair brow, 'For now?'

'Ezor believes he's up to something.'

'She does tend to have a hunch for this sort of thing. See to it that an eye is kept on him whilst you conduct the search and load the refined quintessence onto my ship.'

'Understood.' Acxa saluted by twisting her fist over her heart. Valerian hissed again when she made no move to leave.

'Do you have something else to say, Acxa?' Lotor cooly asked, and her daemon gave a soft whine.

'I— It's the paladin, Sir. I fear that his presence will invite…avoidable complications.'

Lotor leant over his patient to brush aside a stray curl on his forehead. 'Is that so?'

'My lord, he is a paladin of Voltron. He is no ordinary prisoner—'

'I am aware.'

'That boy,' Acxa hissed through her teeth, pointing at the paladin, 'is a walking time bomb. His presence restricts our movements. Voltron will give chase, and they will draw the empire's attention.'

'Acxa—'

'I'm sorry, but Lotor, please. I don't understand how we benefit from this situation.'

'Acxa, that's enough!' Lotor snapped, yellow eyes flashing before they narrowed on her. 'You are presuming much, and seeing little. This "walking time bomb", as you so elegantly put it, has value you are unable to understand. He could well be the key to crippling Voltron, and I intend to take full advantage'

'Sir!'

'Leave us. You are dismissed.' Lotor commanded with a subzero bite. Acxa's mouth wordlessly opened and closed before she clenched it shut. With a downcast gaze, she saluted again, Acario bowed low, and then they left.

Lotor gave out a long sigh before he turned his attentions back to the sleeping boy; taking a moment to watch to the rise and fall of his chest, listen to the steady bleeps of the heart monitor. He stretched his fingertips out to slide over dark skin, and rested them above his heart, feeling it's rhythmic pulse for himself.

Such a small thing…Fighting so hard to stay alive.

'I suppose, we are alike in that sense. You and I.' Lotor muttered and huffed a half-laugh. He stood up, and with his hands together behind his back, approached the room's window that stared out onto the rolling wintry plains. In the distance, a fat column of smoke rose from the former quintessence refinery. So, Voltron had decided to burn it to the ground.

'Paladin. Prince. Such titles that have been thrust upon us. We are told that it is our fate, our duty. But,' Lotor bit his tongue, and swallowed around the lump that made his throat tight.

'Have you ever wished for any different? Live a day where you didn't have to constantly feel the urge to look over your shoulder? Have people to laugh with, who would weep for you…Not that you would have to imagine hard.' He said over his shoulder with a wistfully smile. The paladin remained silent. Valerian watched him, and Lotor loudly cleared his throat before he turned on his heel.

'Yes. Quite. You'll be staying, I take it?'

Valerian cooed his confirmation, and curled around the smaller daemon, nestling in to sleep. Lotor nodded, and made for the door, trusting that if there was any change in his patient's condition, he would be alerted. After all, it seemed as though Valerian had grown terribly attached.

'Why is this taking so long?!' Keith groaned from the Red Lion's seat, and Coran looked over his shoulder, fingers tapping furiously against his console whilst his Scottish-terrier daemon yapped. From the pilot podium, Allura shot him a disapproving look. Nearby in a heap, her daemon Aurora lay atop Miyuzuki, occasionally lifting her head to groom his thick pelt. This was ridiculous, they'd flown back to Castle, (Keith couldn't help but think that they'd have made it back in half the time if they'd been in Red), they were all at their stations. Why hadn't Allura opened a wormhole already?

'There is a solar storm surrounding the nearby planets of our destination.' The altean advisor explained, and Keith rubbed the sides of his temples in an attempt to soothe the headache he felt coming on. Perched on the back of his chair, Asperatia continued to irritably snap her beak, refusing Kala'ina and her buzzing attempts to pacify her.

'Can't we just go through it?' He asked.

Across from him, Pidge caught his eye, Vexenon a snoozing dormouse on her knee, 'This Castle was made to take a hit, sure. But if we fly directly into a solar storm, we will get torn apart.'

'We will have to wait out the storm. Lotor won't be going anywhere.' Allura stated, and Keith rolled his eyes as he sank further down into his chair. Asperatia hopped down into his lap, and Keith ran a finger down her head in a soothing motion before absentmindedly scratching her neck.

'We shouldn't be just sitting here. Voltron would be able to go through that storm,' She grumbled and Keith agreed with grunt. 'Speaking of,' She continued, looking up to him, 'we should check that Red knows what's going on.'

'Yeah.' Keith said, grimly reminded of the time Shiro reunited with Black, only to be rejected. He couldn't afford that with Lance, and hopefully Red would recognise that as well. He stood up, Asperatia flapping to settle on his jacket's leather shoulder perch, and left the bridge, ignoring the others' eyes on him as they followed him out.

'Man, I don't think Z is gonna be happy about having to do all the heavy lifting herself.' Ezor yawned, stretching up like a cat as she and Acxa walked down the hallway toward the holding cells. Weaving around their feet, Camiya hopped and tried to playfully yip at Acario, but the daemon's proud head was hanging low. Acxa herself wasn't looking the cheeriest either, looking a few shades paler than her usual blue colouring.

'It doesn't matter. Orders are orders.' Acxa bit, and Ezor winced.

'Hey,' She reached out to take her partner's hands and squeezed them, encouraging Acxa's dark eyes to meet hers. 'It's gonna be alright. Sure, it's all work right now and things are a little tense. But I promise, the moment we get some time alone.'

Ezor narrowed the distance between them, and let go of their joined hands to settle hers suggestively on Acxa's hips, massaging there. At their feet, Camiya and Acario mewled as they rubbed up against each other.

Acxa gave a short laugh despite herself and Ezor smiled with her. There was her Acxa. 'Mmh. Yes, I would like that very much.'

'Yeah? Okay, I'm going to go quickly check on the prisoner. And then maybe, whilst we're searching this place, we'll see what we can do?'

'Who knows what might be lurking in dark corners?' Acxa lowly chuckled, and leaned in for a slow kiss.

Ezor happily sighed when they broke apart, 'Miss you already.'. She grinned before turning at the intersection down to the occupied holding cells, blowing a kiss over her shoulder. Motioning for Camiya to stay a few feet back, Ezor willed her skin to camouflage, and padded down the corridor to the cell that held the prisoner she was looking for. She stopped in front of the cell, a charged barrier of energy acting as the bars, and peered in.

'I know you are there half-breed.' The prisoner's deep voice snarled, and Ezor held her invisibility a moment longer before she released.

'Aw, what gave me away?' She pouted, and clapped her hands together. She pointed to the prisoner's daemon, a hulking mountain of fur huddled in the corner. 'Wait—let me guess—It was your doggy daemon, right?'

The prisoner's two colossal, mechanical arms groaned as he flexed. They'd be a lot more impressive if they had the injectable quintessence to go with them, Ezor mentally scoffed.

'My daemon is no "doggy". Her name, is Laika.' The former Warden of Beta Traz spat, and Ezor smiled. This was going to be fun.

When Lance opened his eyes, the world around him was a hazy blur, and he was burning. He distantly felt as though he were moving. Nothing was solid, and spun around and around, and around.

'N-Nuejia?' He weakly croaked, and took small comfort when he felt something near his head shift, and soft feathers nuzzled into his neck. He shivered, too hot but too cold at the same time. He was laying on his back, on a bed. His bedsheets stuck to him, his skin clammy and goosebumps riddled. Lance tried to open his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to hold them that way. His lids. They were too heavy.

'He's conscious.'

Lance could hear heavy huffs of breath. Panting, like an animal. Where was he?

'His temperature.' A man ordered, and Lance choked when a thin stick was forced into his mouth.

'Forty-three Dilkits. Is that bad? I—I don't know what's normal for humans'

'Yes, Zethrid, it is bad. His body is burning up well above what it should be.'

There was a whoosh of cool air, and the lights behind Lance's lids dimmed. There was a nose-wrinkling, sterilised smell in the air, like that of antiseptic. Was he in hospital? His bed was stopped, and Lance felt his arm be lifted up, and then a needle prick his skin.

'Ow.' He moaned as the noises of shuffling and movement around him continued. A hand pressed against his forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs that were plastered to it. The hand was cold and felt good.

'Lance? Can you hear me?'

A whimper rasped from his dry lips. His tongue felt too thick, too big and heavy in his mouth to answer.

'Is he meant to be that colour? He looks like he's bleeding out.'

'Yes. Thank you Zethrid.' The man gritted through his teeth before he cleared his throat. 'I require space now.'

There was weighted footfall, but Lance sensed that someone—the man, remained at his bedside. The mattress dipped with new weight, and through their bond, Lance felt the phantom touch of another daemon stroking Nuejia, gently cooing to her. Gloved fingers gently, but firmly, squeezed Lance's jaw, and he gasped when icy liquid was poured down his throat. His stomach grew warm and tingled when the liquid settled in it.

The man made him sip it, massaging his thorax to make him reflexively swallow when he couldn't do it himself.

'I wonder if mother felt the same. Nursing a dying soul back to health using quintessence as I am now.'

The cup was taken away and the hand was back, this time, delicately tracing along his cheekbone with tipped claws. Lance didn't know whether he wanted to lean into the touch or away from it. The back of his head was fuzzy.

'She had the rift in proximity, a variable we missing in this case. But regardless, if I have interpreted her research correctly—'

Lance hiccuped when there was another prick of a needle, in his neck this time. What was happening?

'Then this treatment will yield to similar effects.'

'Your mom…' Lance mumbled, trying hard to form and hold onto a coherent thought, but the task felt impossible when his head was stuffed with clouds. 'she…a doctor?'

'She was an alchemist,' The man sighed, and there was a faint beeping of fingers on a keyboard, 'the most ambitious and forward-thinking of them all.'

'She here?' Lance cracked one eye open, but his surrounding was lost to him in a sea of haze. A shock of white and purple moved closer and sat down at Lance's side. Another warm quiver shivered through him through their cuddling daemons.

'No. No, she's…not here.'

'When she—coming back?'

There was a long pause. Lance's heart twitched in his chest. It hurt.

'I wonder that myself. The last time I saw her was many movements ago. Truthfully, I find it difficult to remember her face at times.'

'Oh,' Lance silently mouthed, and Nuejia gave a pitiful chirp. 'Well, I mean—kinda like…Keith, huh?'

'Keith?'

'Yeah. Keith, Keefy…Looking for mom to,' Lance tried to wet his lips, blinking slowly but not seeing, 'Gonna— wanna help find his mom. Co-could help you to…help you, your mom…Miss my mom—I miss home.'

Lance wasn't aware of the tears running down his flush face until a damp cloth came to brush them away. The man, his carer, continued to swipe him down of his chilled layer of sweat. The room wouldn't stop spinning. He was going to throw up.

'I—'

'Hush now. You mustn't strain yourself. The quintessence synchronisation is a delicate process. You must rest.'

'I—I don't wanna die. Not like this. Not without…' Lance trailed off breathlessly, no air left, his ribs felt as though a weight were pressing down on him. Crushing him. He couldn't breathe.

A hand took his, not too warm, not too cold. 'You have a strong heart, dear Lance. It is not your fate to perish here.'. The man lifted his hand, and there was a wash of hot air against it before the soft press of lips to knuckles.

'I swear to you on that.'

A hysterical giggle bubbled from Lance's lips before an unstoppable yawn and a wave of exhaustion came over him. He was worn down to nothing. Nothing left to give.

'Gonna…sleep now.' He mumbled, and allowed himself to be dragged back down into unconsciousness, missing the gentle press of the man's lips to his forehead and a wish for sweet dreams.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are liking this story, please take the time to leave a comment. They mean the world to me, specifically when it comes to motiviation for writing the best chapter. Once again, thank you for reading, and as always,

Until next time folks!