I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for all of the wonderful comments and feedback you've left so far! It really is the highlight of my day when I pop online to find new notifications waiting for me and it's what keeps me pushing to update more regularly.

So here's chapter 4, a little longer than the others so far. I hope you all enjoy it!

I'll Take Her Place

Chapter 4

Pidge slowly woke to something with a pointed edge nudging her in the ribs. There was the sound of whirring machinery and she could hear Hunk make a questioning sound before yelping in alarm.

"What did you build last night?" Lance asked, sounding as though he was trying not to laugh.

Hunk shrieked. "Bad robot! Down!"

Pidge sat up in time to witness Hunk running to the other side of one of the Green Lion's massive paws, where he ducked down to try and hide from the flying sentry drone which was giving chase. She watched for a moment, rational thought clawing its way back through a sleepy haze. "Huh. Might be a few more bugs to work out than I thought... C'mere, Rover!"

The drone made a questioning beep before soaring back to Pidge's side. It went still when she pressed a switch hidden on one side.

"Rover, huh? Making yourself a guard dog so Hunk stops touching your stuff?" Lance asked.

"He's going to keep you from taking my stuff too, so I wouldn't start laughing yet," Pidge informed him.

Lance sulked for a few seconds as Hunk cautiously approached them, clearly watching out for any more drones that may spring out and attack him.

"You're an evil genius, Pidge," Hunk informed her.

She grinned in response. "I know. So what brings you two down to my lair this morning?"

Hunk and Lance exchanged a glance, each trying to wordlessly convince the other to talk to her.

Lance lost. "First of all, it's after lunch and no one has seen you since yesterday. Shiro was worried."

"We were all worried," Hunk interjected.

"Yeah, yeah, we're all worried. Also, your fiance sent a request that you have dinner with him tonight. So there's that too," Lance said with a bit of a malcontent grumble.

Pidge scowled and dropped her gaze.

Hunk noticed. Of course he did. He was far too tuned in to the feelings of his friends sometimes. "You have to get to know him at some point," he said logically. "Wouldn't it be better to start now?"

"It's only been a day! Barely a day!" Pidge leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, already beginning to feel overwhelmed. Was it too much to ask that she have a single interaction with other people without anyone mentioning her impending nuptials? "I need at least a deca-phoeb before I'm ready."

"Empress Honerva talked them up to six months from two, so at least you have a while," Lance said, trying to be helpful.

Hunk nodded. "It was incredible! I thought Emperor Zarkon would have to step in and order the council members to increase the time for her, but she handled it all on her own! And it wasn't in that kind of scary way like Allura does, she just won them over with facts and clear reasoning."

"Some highlights: proper courtship before any marriage is a minimum of three months, no matter the circumstances," Lance said, holding up his fingers to tick them off, one-by-one. "We're not at war with each other, so demanding the two of you to be married immediately is ridiculous; planning a royal wedding will take a minimum of five months, and that's rushing it; oh, and who could forget my favorite, the dress!"

"Please tell me I at least have a say in what I'll be wearing," Pidge pleaded.

Lance nodded. "Oh, you do. And that's why the planning portion takes so long. It's tradition for the bride to design her own gown."

Pidge looked a little pale.

"Luckily, you have Lance to help you," Hunk said, sounding amused. "Three married sisters and two sisters-in-law means he's a pro at weddings, especially dresses."

"Babe, you forgot my cousins. And my Aunt who has married five times since I was four," Lance reminded him.

"Oh, yeah... How could I ever forget Aunt Constantine? She was always my favorite... Do you think she's on husband number six yet?"

"I hope not. I really liked Reggie. He was nice."

Pidge shoved her worries aside, burying them deep down in favor of focusing on her friends. It was so easy to lose herself in Lance's stories as he began to weave colorful tales of his eccentric and large family and his many experiences helping his relatives plan their weddings. With the two of them by her side, she pulled herself up off the floor and walked to the kitchen to get some food before going to face Shiro.

"How are you doing?"

Pidge looked up at Shiro as she began her pre-training stretches, easing her body into physical activity after a night of sitting on the cold, hard floor. She shrugged before bending down, folding herself in half at the waist to touch her toes. "I'm okay."

Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. "Pidge, you spent twenty hours hiding in Green's hangar. That's not-!"

"Sounds normal to me," Pidge interrupted. "Working on stuff helps me cope. Seriously, I'm fine. I got some work done and it gave me time to think. I'm okay."

Shiro frowned at her, struggling to find the right words to say for the unusual situation they were in. Normally, the best route with Pidge was blunt honesty – no careful prodding into her feelings, no treating her as though she was made of glass – but something about her body language was screaming at him that wasn't time to talk at all.

She wasn't ready.

He backed off, at least for the moment. "We're just running simple drills today. Allura and I have a meeting with the Coalition Leaders in three vargas, so there's no time for more than that. And you have a dinner to prepare for."

The only sign that Pidge had heard him was in her slight loss of balance as she continued her warm-up. She quickly righted herself as she lifted her left leg off the ground, stretching it out behind her.

"Queen Alanna has offered her assistance if you have any questions," Shiro said. He hesitated a few seconds before adding: "We're all here for you, Pidge."

Shiro could tell the exact moment she closed herself off, thoroughly done with their conversation. He'd stepped over that invisible line in the sand, knowing how she would likely react, but it was something he felt needed to be said or else he'd spend days regretting it.

He stepped away to give her some space and joined Hunk and Lance on their jog around the perimeter of the training deck.

"Okay, I haven't seen Pidge look that annoyed since that time you accidentally bumped her into a bowl of Trufalian meringue and started a whole chain reaction of everything on the banquet table crashing to the ground," Lance said. "Which, granted, wasn't really your fault, but that isn't the case this time. So what did you say?"

"Just that we're all here for her," Shiro explained. "It was poor timing on my part."

Hunk looked stricken. "It wasn't something we did, is it? She was laughing with us earlier, so I thought everything was okay. But what if it was something we said? Maybe she was laughing just so we wouldn't worry. What if-?"

"I don't think it was anything you did or said," Shiro cut in gently, stopping the Yellow Paladin before he could get himself worked up into a panic."If we think this is hard for us to accept, think of how it is for Pidge. She's the one this is all happening to. Sometimes it will be easy and sometimes she won't want to talk about it at all. Right now is the latter."

"Man, this is so messed up," Lance grumbled.

Yeah, Shiro privately agreed. That was one way of putting it.

Pidge was a wreck of tangled emotions.

Training had helped work out some of her frustration, but it wasn't enough. Perhaps if it had been one of their monthly marathon sessions, which always left her swimming in sweat and so exhausted that she could barely lift her arms, it would have helped. At least then it would have been acceptable for her to shower and then crawl into bed and sleep for twelve hours. Instead, she had to shower and get ready for dinner with Prince Keithir.

What were the rules for something like that? What was she supposed to wear? How was she supposed to act? She wasn't even sure how a normal date back on Earth was supposed to go (having never been on one). She knew she could ask Hunk or even Lance, but at the same time she wasn't sure how any of their advice would help.

Logically, her favorite sweatpants were out. And her sweatshirts. Really, any form of casual and comfortable wasn't appropriate for dinner with her fiance.

Pidge groaned and flopped face-first onto her bed, letting herself wallow in confused misery for a few long minutes. She knew they were on a tight schedule, but was it necessary for them to immediately begin the 'getting to know you' portion of their courtship? She'd much rather spend the next few days (weeks) tinkering with Rover and writing new programs to try and locate her family. She just needed time for it to fully sink in.

"You chose this," she bitterly reminded herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, refusing to let a single tear fall. "I chose this. Allura would be preparing to marry Lotor right now if I hadn't, and that's infinitely worse. I can do this."

She didn't often resort to talking to herself, but it was surprisingly helpful. Pidge was not okay (sorry, Shiro), but she could handle it. She got out of bed and walked over to her closet, which housed what little clothing she'd picked over three years. Her original sweatshirt and shorts were still there, though it had been over a year since she last wore them. Despite what Lance said, she had grown a few inches since leaving Earth and her clothes no longer fit as well as before. There was the Altean dress Allura had gifted her on her seventeenth birthday and the robes given to her by Ryner after her brief stay on Olkarion, learning everything she could about their incredible technology. She had two pairs of sweatpants and jeans, as well as several plain shirts and sweatshirts, but those were just for everyday use.

Never before had Pidge found herself at odds with the lack of nice clothing she owned. Whenever there was a formal situation that required their attendance, she and the other paladins would wear their armor. There had never been a need for anything else.

She wondered if Prince Keithir would be insulted if she wore the Altean dress.

Someone knocked on her door just as she was reaching out to pull it down. Clad only in her green lion robe and matching slippers, she shuffled over and prodded the button to open the door. Lance stood there with a box in his hands, looking unusually unsure.

"I got you this," he said, holding out the box for her to take. "I saw it at the Space Mall the last time Hunk and I made a run there for those fruits he likes. I was saving it for the next vacation Shiro and Allura let us have, but I thought you could use it more now. You might find the familiarity comforting, at least."

Curiosity piqued, Pidge removed the lid and then froze, staring open-mouthed at the fabric waiting inside. She slowly pulled it out of the box, marveling over how soft it was.

It was like someone had taken her original sweatshirt and turned it into a stylish dress. The sleeves and down each side were the exact same shade of green, with white filling in the space between. A hint of lace peeked out from under the skirt. Her only wish was that it had the same high collar rather than a simple crew neck, but it was only a minor wish.

"It's perfect," she whispered, finding it hard to get the words out. She knocked the box away as she threw her arms around Lance's middle. "Thank you so much!"

Lance hugged her back tightly. "That's what friends are for."

Dinner was a quiet affair between them, which wasn't unexpected. Keither was hardly an expert at basic communication and his future wife didn't seem to be much better. Ten minutes in and he was already convinced that inviting her to have dinner with him so soon had been a Very Bad Idea. Except that it had been his mother's request and denying Empress Honerva was an Even Worse Idea, so there they were.

Sitting.

Alone.

Not speaking.

Keithir glanced up and cleared his throat, wracking his brain for anything to say. "So, uh...?"

"Yes?"

His thoughts abruptly derailed at her simple question. "Um... enjoying the food?"

Big amber eyes stared at him for a moment before lowering back to her plate. "It's good. Are you, uh, enjoying it too?"

Keithir absently wondered if it was alright to be glad she was struggling just as much as he was. "Yeah, it's good."

The silence resumed, stretching on and slowly consuming them. Any attempt from either of them was too weak to combat it.

It was the most awkward ordeal he had ever gone through, and that included his physician's four-hour long lecture on puberty and reproduction when he was younger.

Even worse, once the food had been cleared, their evening still wasn't over.

Keithir stood and moved around to help her out of her chair before offering her his arm. She stared up at him in confusion. "Can I walk you back to your room?"

"Oh," she uttered softly. "Yes. Yes, of course." She took his arm with no trouble and they began to walk through the castle together.

Normally, Keithir was content with the quiet. Most days he preferred it. Constant, never ending chatter, especially when it was small-talk, was one of his least favorite things. But he could feel the awkwardness between them, hanging thick in the air, and made worse by the fact that neither of them knew what to do or say to make it a little more bearable.

He found himself staring at her, only partly paying attention to where he was walking. His eyes were drawn to the shade of green she wore, and then to the dress itself. It was a simple thing, designed with comfort in mind rather than extravagance. It was...

"Cute."

"Huh?" Pidge looked up, eyes wide as they met his own.

Keithir felt his face heat up. "Your dress. It's cute... Green looks good on you."

She looked away, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Thank you."

There was a brief moment where Keithir thought that was the end of it and that they were doomed to never break through the thick wall between them, but then Pidge sucked in a break and weakly grinned up at him. "Good thing I'm the Green Paladin, right?"

Keithir found himself smiling back. "You're right. Imagine if you were Blue instead."

Pidge's laughter shattered what remained of the awkward atmosphere. "I'd rather not. Besides, that would mean Lance would be Green and I don't think he could pull it off. You, though..."

Keithir crinkled his nose. "Me? In Green? Not really my color."

"Oh?" Pidge asked with a strange tone to her voice. "So then what is your color? Black?"

(Some part of him realized she was actually teasing him. It was nice.)

"Red."

Pidge's smile dropped, taking the warmth forming between them with it, and she looked away. "Yeah. You'd look good in red..." She pulled away from him as they approached her room. "Thanks for walking me back, Your Highness."

"Keithir. Just... just Keithir," he told her as she punched in her code and the door slid open. She turned to bid him goodnight before going inside, leaving him to wonder how he'd managed to sever the fragile connection they'd made in a split second.

He stood there for a moment, lost and confused, and then slowly turned away as a bitterness swelled in his chest. "Goodnight, Lady Katherine," he said to her closed door.