Lance had fired his Bayard and missed twice when the fourth champion came forth. He was faster than all the other three, but wasn't as strong- Lance figured that much out when a fist was slammed into his chin.

Feeling like his jaw might crack in half, he swung his Bayard up. It was caught and then twisted.

A breath caught in his throat when his Bayard was ripped from his fingertips and tossed to the side. He could hear where it landed and turned to run for it-

Something long slammed into his side; a spear perhaps? It fell like wood with something jagged at the end that sliced into the edge of his undergear. Turning away from the sensation, a hand grasped at the back of his head.

When the knee collided to his face, Lance saw colors- it was a very odd sensation to go from darkness to a blinding yellow and purple. His ears rang- a vague applaud from the audience echoed, but they sounded like they were on the far end of a long tunnel.

Lance wasn't fast enough to turn and gain his balance back- the champion was already swinging again. The blow was to his chest, pounding once then twice against his ribs- he heard a crack and an unbearable heaving pain overwhelmed him.

Staggering, Lance croaked something along the lines of a cut off scream. His knees hit the floor, and two hands moved towards his throat.

Feeling a pump of panic kick his senses into gear, Lance gripped tightly at the wrists and pulled back, pulling the champion to the floor with him. They rolled, punches thrown wildly between the two.

Lance was surprised at how desperate he was when he bit down on the Champions hand, prompting a furious yell.

Scrambling away, pulling on dirt and mud- Lance lifted his fists, unknowingly managing to block an elbow aimed to the side of his head. It knocked him off balance, a budding bruise pushing up against his lower arm.

He thought he knew what it was like to fight for his life. It sounded like a simple idea in thought- you fight as hard as your can to stay alive. Everyone knew that. He had done that as a Paladin since day one. He fought and pushed himself- giving everything he had. He was wrong- Lance didn't try then. Compared to know, Lance actually felt like he was being pretty lazy.

He had back up in those moments.

He had his vision in those moments.

Right now- he had nothing but his own two hands. The pure adrenaline that tickled his spine was numbing, his breathing so sharp that he couldn't remember a time his lungs weren't burning.

His mind was clouded with run, fight, run, fight. Stay alive. Don't die. Don't die. I don't want to die. Fight.

He didn't care about the audience- he had forgotten about them long ago. He couldn't even recall Keith's voice anymore- it was lost to him.

Pain and fear were his only companions now.

He felt there wasn't a place on his entire body the Champion hadn't struck- cracking and bruising every muscle and bone he had. In time it all faded away- pain feeling normal.

Yelling as something sliced into his shoulder, he stepped back. This thing was tearing him apart- did he even have a chance at winning?

What happened again if he lost? They killed him, right? Or they killed him during the fight. The pain would end if he was dead- but then there was Keith.

Keith.

He was still out there- within this crowd, alone. Keith was always alone.

He didn't have parents. When Shiro was supposedly dead he didn't have friends. He lived in the canyons by himself for an entire year.

In that fleeting instant, when Lance realized this might be the end, he wished he had given Keith more.

Amazed at how time seemed to slow down, Lance could only think of that Red paladin. Think of the life he had and how he wished he could show him that he didn't need to be alone anymore. That he never needed to go at things solo anymore and deserved to have a family as much as anyone else.

He wished he could have introduced Keith to his family- they would have loved him.

If anything, a sense of comfort came from thinking about him so much. Even if Lance died right here and now, Keith would be alive. It wouldn't be easy for him by any means, but he was strong. Stronger than Lance could ever admit before.

He would figure a way out of this- injured or not. Then the team would find him after a while and he would go back to being a paladin. They would save the universe and Earth would be safe. His family would be safe.

He hoped at least Hunk or someone would tell them that he tried.

He tried to be strong for them… for Keith, but he just couldn't do it. He never could.

That confidence and courage he boasted before, that was all for show. He was petrified every time he woke up, fearing what battle they would face later that day. Would he live to the next morning? Would he be stupid and get his teammates killed? Did they even need him there?

How long had he gone putting on some brave front for the others so they wouldn't realize he was breaking on the inside? Since the beginning he guessed.

Keith was different, though. Keith was amazing. Keith would be fine even if he wasn't around.

"Lance!"

Lance lifted his head. Keith was calling for him.

Wait, Keith was calling for him? Right now?

Remembering that he was somewhere above him in the crowd, a sense of clarity washed over the blue paladin. He was still fighting- he was still breathing.

He was still here.

This wasn't over yet.

In that moment, a hand grabbed his arm, flipping him over the shoulder of the Coeihn and onto the ground. In a quick set of motions, Lance kicked out blindly- catching the champion in the chest. He huffed and fell back- something hit the ground. Something lighter and more hollow than the champion.

With a resounding click, like stone to metal, Lance focused on it. His mind was moving a mile a minute, his thoughts thinking of nothing else.

Grab it.

His entire body was screaming.

The location still fresh in his mind, he made a grab for the general location. A rush of footsteps was hot on his trail.

He tensed, feeling his knuckles brush something. It was wood- he swung it.

Realizing it was the Champions fallen spear only after it managed to collide into his jaw- Lance swung it a few more times. He missed every single time except for the last one- smacking it into the Champion's armor. It caught in the straps of it and Lance pulled the Coeihn with him when he tried to retract it.

Not expecting the extra weight, Lance fell back.

The Coeihn barreled into him, bracing himself and punching a fist to Lance's jaw. Lance pulled back the Spear, then jabbed it forward. Grazing only armor at first he tried again when the champion tried to pull away.

He pierced something much softer and the Coeihn gagged.

Caught between this moment and the racing of his pulse, Lance felt something wet.

Blood blossomed at his palm- sickening him. He had stabbed him with the spear...

Pushing away from the Coeihn, crawling back, Lance could hear him hit the floor. Where had he just hit him?

He was alive still- right?

Killing hadn't been a thought that crossed Lance's mind often when fighting the Galra- or more of, he never wanted to think too deeply on it. It was undeniable that the explosions and damage that his Blue lion could do would undoubtedly take out a few lives if close enough… but he just willed himself to ignore it.

Ignore every wet crunch or sizzling burn he heard every time he fired his gun.

Everyone on team Voltron did. They could get through the nights easier if they did that. But those sounds were all Lance could think off right now. From the screams of the Coeihns and the previous Champions he knew they were still alive when he fired at them.

This champion was silent… unmoving.

"H-Hey…" Lance whispers, a taste of iron in his mouth, "You okay?" Whether the Coeihn could understand him or not didn't matter, it didn't make a sound either way. "Hey… Hey!" he shook them a little. He didn't respond, his entire body limp. God. Oh god. No no.

The crowd was in an uproar, startling Lance right out of his skin. Many were already rushing out, ushering him away and dragging the champion out. Lance was frantic, "Is he okay? Hey! Is he going to be okay! Is he breathing?!"

His Bayard was placed into his hands and he was pushed back. Stumbling, he could hear the cleanup crew or whatever they were called leaving. The match was over.

The blood was still warm on his fingers.

Desperate to ride himself of the feeling, he brushed them against his pant leg, gasping heavily. He… he had to focus. Forget it for now. That was only the fourth champion. There was still one more.

Exhaustion was hitting him as the fear of death subsided- adrenaline was fading. Bouncing a little to keep himself moving he ran his hands over his Bayard. He had to finish this battle as soon as he could. Fire as soon as the enemy came out.

He… He felt like he was going to throw up.

When the final champion came out- Lance was barely able to stand. Everything was spinning- or at least felt like it. Being unable to actually see if he was or not just made it all the more nauseating.

He couldn't do this…

The crowd began to chant something, "Dravla. Dravla," they said. He couldn't tell if it was a title or the champion's name. Feeling almost tribal, the crowd began to slam their fists together, echoing. They adored this champion.

How powerful was he, exactly? Obviously Pure ones were chosen so he was able to be defeated, but Lance could hardly beat the last one...

"So, is Lance you?," the voice sounded muffled as if a mask was covering his face. It was the champion in front of him- he had gotten so close without Lance even realizing.

Caught off guard when the Coeihn spoke English Lance stammered, "Wha- you can understand me?" it felt like a battle to simply breath at this point. He couldn't be wasting it on conversation...

"I had a few hours to get an idea of it- pardon me if I make a few mistakes from time to time." the champion wasn't attacking, only talking. Lance wasn't willing to put down his guard. "I am Dravla- Would you like me to give you a moment to collect yourself?"

Lance was puzzled- was this guy being nice to him? Was it a trick? Was it out of pity? "I don't need any pity. If you are going to attack than just do it- I have to beat you before sun fall."

Dravla must have taken a moment to look around, saying, "Yes, it is drawing near. Possible 30 minutes."

30 minutes? Lance sucked in a heavy breath and lifted his Bayard. He had to finish this quickly. "No offense to you- but I don't have time for this,"

"Then just listen-" in a set of motions, Dravla had grabbed his Bayard and lifted it, causing Lance to fire into the open air. Grabbing his arm, he turned the Paladin and pinned him by the arm. Lance grunted, pulling wildly at the hold. "We don't have much time-" he says into Lance's ear. "I am an ally."

Lance fell still, "What?" he breathed heavily.

"Hold on-" He flipped Lance onto his back, What the hell? Ally his ass! "Sorry. Sorry," With every punch that connected with his face he could hear Dravla muttering. It was starting to get annoying. "This might hurt-," Dravla grabbed his ankle and spun him like a bag of potatoes. Yelling, Lance was thrown across the arena, barely able to roll onto his stomach before Dravla was heaving him to his feet and had him in a choker hold. "Gotta make this look convincing,"

Lance didn't understand, but despite how tight the hold was… he could breath just fine. "Who-?"

"Tellru had requested I aid you, so stop gabbing or everyone will get-" he paused. He couldn't think of the word, "Get… not, uh- they will think it is unusual that we are speaking. Listen- I placed a bell on my lower back. It should ring every time I move-" they stumbled a bit and Lance could hear it faintly.

From where the audience was, he had no doubt that they couldn't hear a sound- but Lance could.

"I need you to aim for that with your weapon."

Lance took a few heavy breaths, "Why-"

'I said don't talk. Just do it. Lift you ankle a little bit behind you and trip me. From there I will release you enough for you to break free of my hold. Don't hesitate to take the shot when I get up. The more time I have to fight the quicklier- uh, faster, I learn the enemy's weaknesses. If you don't take me out soon everyone will think I went easy on you. That weapon you use is formidable if used correctly, so do not hesitate. No one will think twice about it."

Lance didn't know what to think. Could he even trust this? It felt too planned to be a lie.

Taking a big risk, he says, "...Okay."."

"Good, here we go."
Lance lifted his foot back, grazing Dravla's ankle and tugging on it. Dravla fell back and Lance pushed forward. Stumbling slightly, he turned and lifted his Bayard.

A small sound of a bell and he was firing.

Hearing a heavy thump, he knew Dravla had fallen. Was he okay? Lance wasn't sure- he could hear a few Coeihns coming out to drag Dravla away like they did with every Champion. As they passed, he faintly heard, "Well done…"

It was simple- it felt forced… but the crowd was loving it. In whatever means, Lance seemed to have won over their affection and could hear them chanting something.

("Blue champion! Blue Champion!")

Lance didn't understand- he didn't want to. He just wanted to curl up and sleep in a hole for 10,000 years. That sounded awesome right about now.

"Lance," when he fell back, a hand was pressed to his back and caught him. "You did well,"

"Tellru?" he murmured.

"It is over." she allowed him to lean on her, and then lifted her head to the crowd. ("We have our new champion of champions!") Tellru roared. The crowd was on their feet, chanting and going nuts. "Champion-!" Tellru took Lance's arm, holding it tight to keep him upright and lifted it above his head, "(You have proven your worth.")

He gave a weak thumbs up, very shaky on his own two feet. "Don't know what you are saying but cool…,"

("The Champion will now choose his pure!)" She turned to him, "You may choose your pure."

Lance gasped and stood up straight at the notion. "Keith!" he tugged on Tellru's sleeve. Knowing what he wanted, she moved his hand it so that he pointed to Keith. "Him! I choose Keith!" he gasped out, a new burst of energy running through him, "I want Keith! I want Keith! I want Keith!" he chanting like a child in a candy store, pumping his fists up and down, "Keith! Keith! Where are you!?" when he tried to leave, Tellru held him in place, telling him to wait. "Keithhhhhhh~~~~" he slurred. Fatigue was slamming into him and he stumbled like a drunken fool. "Oh my gosh I'm tired- KEITHHHHHHHH!" he titled his head back and yelled the name to the heavens, "Whoop whoop! Keithyyy keith!" he continues to yell the name like the very word was the highlight of his day. Which in truth, it was.

Tellru was smirking a little, finding it amusing how the Red paladin grow red in the face and tried to hide it at Lance's outburst, ("He has chosen the pure with the raven hair!")

The crowd was humming or doing something in joy of Lance's choice and some even giving boos at the loss of such a prize- but all were accepting

Then, they made a break for the Arena, climbing over the railings to the champions below.

"Wait-" Lance could tell many people were approaching him, "Tellru?" he panicked.

"Fear not, they will simply bring you to your new living quarters. Keith will be brought to you there."

"Oh- okay. Hey-" he gripped her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Of course… champion." She chuckled as a few Coeihns lifted him into the air.

Like a hero of honor, they carried him about the place. Lance just kind of laid there and let them, listening quietly to the cheering and bellowing in his honor. After what he went through, he did not mind being carried around.

He almost fell asleep- barely able to keep his mind clear enough to realize they head reached their destination.

Carefully placing him within, they said a few things he didn't understand and put something like a blanket on his shoulders.

He heard a door click and it fell quiet, "…Uh," He held up a nervous, "Hello?" realizing he was alone, he made a few grumbling noises. This would be so much easier if he could just see.

Where did they take him? Where was Keith?

Was he being brought here now? Could he see him now? Or… hear him now?

He wanted a hug. He was going to get a hug. By Odin's beard if Keith didn't give him a hug for everything that just happened he was going to yell. Or cry. Probably both.

Where was Keith again?

Lance inched around the room to try and catch his bearings. His body was so sore, refusing to listen to most of his commands. Managing to find something along a chair, he collapsed into it. He had done it.

Through some miracle, he had won.

"Let go!" the familiar sound of screams had him jumping to his feet. Hearing the door open, heavy footsteps entered the room. They were dragging a pissed red paladin, tossing him inside before closing the door behind him.

"Why you-!"

"Keith?!" he yelled.

There was a gasp, "Lance?"

When a weight collapsed on him, he grunted and fell back into the chair, a form half straddling him. Feeling a familiar warmth leaning into his chest, he wrapped his arms around their waist, "Keith." He breathed into his hair. It was him. He was here. They were hugging- it was awesome, "Keith…" A thousand beatings were worth it if he could stay like this forever.

Keith was pressing his face against Lance's chest but didn't wrap his arms around him- but it didn't take Lance long to realize that it was because his hands were cuffed behind him.

"Oh hey-" Lance slides his arm down the other's arm to the cuffs, fumbling around with them till he heard a click and they slide off, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Keith huffed heavily, voice high pitched, "You're crazy!"

"I- yeah." He couldn't argue, "Yeah I am." Chuckling, he squeezed Keith with all his might, "Did they hurt you?"

"I just said that I'm fine," Keith mumbled into shoulder. His hands were moving to his Lance's face, examining the damage, "You should be worried about yourself- you look terrible."

"Gee, thanks. That is exactly what I wanna hear right now…" he paused. "Keith?"

"What?"

"What is wrong with your voice?" it sounded like he was losing it.
"Nothing,"
"You sound like an old man," Lance snickers.

"I was screaming a lot today- okay?' Keith huffs, "Now shut up and just- C'mere." he was dragging Lance across the room, sitting him down. A few seconds later and a wet piece of clothes was dabbing against his bloody cheek. Lance was bleeding from several wounds across his shoulders and lower arms. He almost forgot they were there till Keith started to patch them up.

Thank you Coran for that tutorial on taking care of wounds!

Deciding to just take it easy, Lance left Keith get to work. They didn't say much, both just enjoying the fact that the other was here and breathing. Keith's fingers felt warm and gentle against his scalp when he dabbed the blood out of his hair. "I really look that bad?" he inquired.

"You look like you were in a war…"

"I think I kind of was,"

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"

"I've been told," Lance grinned, "But I didn't really have a choice,'

"Yes you did," Keith scowls, "We could have found another way. One that didn't involve you getting beat to death,"

Lance shrugged a little, "I... I just-" he lifted his hand to grip Keith's wrist, "I just wanted to see you as fast as possible."

Sucking in a breath, as if he were wounded, Keith bit his lower lip, "Just-" he sighed brokenly, "Never do something like that again, Lance. Okay?" he pleaded with a shaky voice.

Lance nodded, "Okay."

"Good," With a considerate pause, he slowly tilted Lance's head back, "This hurt?" he pushed the cloth to Lance's temple, holding it there. The cool feel of it was wonderful.

"Nope. I'm good-" he fell forward, his body giving out on him. Catching him, grunting in surprise, Keith rolling him onto his back.

"Lance?" he panicked.

"Sorry just…" he could barely move, "Tired…"

Keith took a few little breaths, "Okay- don't worry, I Got'cha." lifting Lance's arm over his shoulder, he tugged him to his feet. Helping him to the other side of the room, he heaved Lance onto the edge of something soft. A bed perhaps. "I'm gonna take off the chest plate,"
"Kay…"

With nimble fingers the metal armor was sliding up and over his head. "Here, lay down," he pressed into Lance's shoulder, slowly lowering his head down to the bed.

Lance couldn't help but nuzzle into Keith's neck. It was soft..

"What are you wearing?" Lance squeezed Keith's shoulders, feeling something smooth and- frilly? "Dude, what is this?"

'I don't know." Keith says absentmindedly, lifting Lance's leg up onto the bed, "They just threw it on me."

"It's super soft," he marveled.

"I guess?" Keith shrugged, "Stop talking for a second- Jeez…" the wound on Lance's side was deep. Turning him over to his side, Keith pressed a pad to it. The blue Paladin tensed at the sensation and grimaced. "Sorry…" Keith reached for some bandages, "I'll take care of it so just- save your energy. Go to sleep."

"I don't want to."
"It is fine, Lance."
'I want to talk with you."

Keith's hands paused, "You can talk to me later."

Lance bit his lower lip feeling so tired and weak... That wasn't going to cut it; "I want to talk with you now,"

"You can talk to me later," Keith insists.

"Now."

"Lance-"

"Hey, I went through hell and back to try and get us out of this, and I did," Lance felt a little choked up "And I almost died, several times today. A little gratitude would be nice so just- how about a thank you? Or just let me talk to you. Let me hear your voice…"

There was a long silence, filled with heavy breaths from Keith's nose, "…Okay. Okay, fine. Thank you," his hand hesitantly slides up to cup the side of Lance's face. With a softer tone he repeats, "Thank you, Lance."

Not quite expecting something so sincere, Lance nodded timidly, "Uh- well yeah, of course. No problem…" he exhaled, enjoying the feeling of Keith's touch on his chin. He didn't care if that sounded weird or bizarre- after what he's been through he was almost willing to kiss the guy.

A-Almost! Don't take that out of context- though that is probably impossible, still don't!

"Hold on- there is some water over there." Keith starts towards it. Lance can hear the slight limp in his steps.

"How is your leg?"

"I'll survive,"

"I will survive~" Lance slurred a song.

"Don't break into song," Keith pleaded with a groan.

"I just might- I'm in a mood right now. I feel like I could fly… I believe I can fly~"

"You're getting delusional," Keith says, "I think you should really take a nap or something,"

"Later,"

"Keith,"

"You owe me big." Lance drawled out. He could hear Keith rinsing out the rag before he sighed.

"I know."

"Really big."

"I said thank you."

"Ah, not enough." Lance wiggled a finger to himself, "C'mere."

"What?"

"C'mere." He says again. The soft padding of feet and Keith was in front of him. Lance lifted his hands and let them hover for a second before he reached out. Lance will forever and always blame his actions and his inability to think straight on the fact that he was tired. So tired that at this point, he felt bold enough to say, "I really like this shirt on you. I like how soft it is…"His hand fell upon Keith's stomach, entangling his fingers into the fabric. The red Paladin tensed below him, making a little noise before going quiet, "You know I am one for clothes- and you are killing me here, so you gotta tell me exactly what you are wearing."

Keith stammered, "W-What? No."

"I saved you from becoming the virgin prize to some alien! You owe me!" he jabbed his finger into his stomach before hitting his belly button. Keith stepped back a bit, grunting.

"Fine! Jeez…" Sounding a little uneasy with the request he made a noise of discomfort, "…I'm wearing my normal paladin suit- the under suit. I don't know what they did with the armor of it."

"Yeah, me either." Lance rubs his chin, "What else?"

"A shirt. A white one- it is just- I dunno, silky and wavy." His voice dies into a mutter. Lance wondered if he was embarrassed.

"That it?" Lance says, not given much to picture with that poor description.

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Details,"

"They put stupid flowers in my hair, that is the only other thing I can add to this."

"Did you take out the flowers?"

"Of course I did,"

Lance sighed, "Shame."

"Shame?"

Lance thought that flowers would match nicely with Keith's hair, but he wasn't going to voice that. Instead he avoided the topic, "So just the undergear and a very silky shirt?" he gripped the bottom of the shirt, running it between his fingers. It was so soft. Softest thing he's ever felt. It made him want to wear one as pajamas.

Keith grumbled, "Yeah. That good enough for you?"

"Yup."

'Good- I'm taking this thing off and getting rid of it," he can hear Keith removing it.

"What?" Lance whined, "Nooo~"

"Why in the world not?"

"Because I want to see it! You gotta keep it!"

"Are you serious?! No!"

"Come on, Keith! Don't be mean!"

"You are the one being ridiculous here, Lance. I'm not keeping something like this!"

"But the fabric is so niceeeeeeee."

There was a light tap on his forehead, "No."
He whined, "Fine…" Waiting a few seconds, he could feel the wet cloth against his hands, brushing off any dry blood that lingered there.

"You should really get some sleep,"

"What if someone comes by?" Lance says, not even fully sure how this ritual thing worked and how deeply he was accepted into this society.

"Then I'll wake you."

Lance couldn't really argue with this anymore. His body was giving out on him, shutting him down faster than he could go against it. He sighs, "Okay. Okay yeah, I'll sleep for a little bit…"

"Lance?"

"Hmm?"

"I-" a few fingers, hesitant and warm, move into his hair, gently caressing it. "Thank you. You did great today…"

Leaning into the touch, Lance hummed in appreciation, "Anytime Pelo de cuervo,"

Keith inquires, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Lance giggles a little, feeling sleep already starting to dawn on him.

"Seriously, what does it mean?" Keith insists.

"Well- you were all popular for you black hair… everyone called you the raven haired pure. What I said basically means crow hair- since you have hair as black as a crow's." Lance amazingly manages to reach up and grab a lock of Keith's hair on the first try and twirls it between his fingers. "It is actually really-" he yawns, head turning deeper into the pillow, "Beautiful." He is out like a light a second later.

Keith's ears a red and hot for the next hour, cursing this sly and very stupid blue paladin.