A/N: No Team Voltron in this chapter, sorry. Just some Lance an Klance. Team Voltron returns next chapter. Promise.

Chapter summary: In which Sendak tests Lance's endurance and Lance tests Keith's endurance with a very tempting challenge.


8: Warm Temptation

Lance had lain back down on the ground after Keith left. That had been about an hour ago and honestly, he was getting bored. Keith was interesting, not to mention good looking. Lance wasn't sure how long he'd been on the battlecruiser but he could feel the vibrations of the ship as it picked up speed. That was interesting, but there was still nothing to do.

Finally, he stood and began pacing. His eye was giving him difficulty discerning depth accurately. He rolled his one good eye and walked up to the cell door. There was an access panel by the door, but it would be useless to try to use it because Galra technology, like Altean technology, was genetically locked. Only Galra could access Galra technology and only Alteans could access Altean technology. Besides, one of the first things Lance had tried after getting tossed in here was try to hack the panel. No luck.

Footsteps reverberated from the hallway, footsteps Lance didn't immediately recognize. Then the door slid open revealing Commander Sendak and another Galra the prince didn't recognize. Keith was nowhere in sight. Unnerved, Lance straightened his back and planted his feet. He was a prince. His people may be all but extinct, but he was still a prince and he would not submit to just anyone. Especially anyone so obviously loyal to the betrayer Zarkon.

The larger of the two Galra, Sendak, stepped into the prince's cell and glared at Lance with one bionic eye and one mechanical eye. This was the first time Lance got a good look at the commander and he wasn't impressed so much as slightly disgusted. Sendak's proportions were off due to his mechanical left shoulder and arm. Purple energy buzzed between the metal shoulder and false arm. Sendak was a cyborg.

Lance had nothing against cyborgs. If you lost a limb and could or wanted to replace it with a mechanical one, then by all means. But in this case, the prince highly doubted Sendak had lost his arm so much as had it removed and replaced with technology. Why anyone would willingly do that was beyond Lance.

"Enjoying your quarters?" Sendak asked.

Lance narrowed his eyes, refusing to answer.

"I understand you were quite talkative to your keeper," Sendak continued, as if he never expected Lance to respond in the first place. "I'm not surprised a lower life form such as yourself would feel sympathy for a halfbreed."

Lance kept his eyes straight forward while Sendak approached him, circling him like a predator eyeing its prey. It caused the prince's hackles to rise and his skin to prickle. He could feel Sendak's eyes on him. The Galra standing in front of Lance hadn't moved except to cross his arms and observe. This was the first time Lance began to doubt his escape plan.

"Perhaps you could talk to me," Sendak offered. "I have a few questions which I would very much like to be answered."

Lance stayed quiet and unmoving.

"The Emperor has requested you be brought to him alive and unharmed," the commander continued. "However, he said nothing about existing injuries."

Lance tensed, instinctively flinching away from the metallic gleam in the corner of his left eye. Had his right eye not been swollen shut, he probably would have seen the attack coming easily, but he didn't. Cold metal clamped down on his swollen eye and pressed. Lance grunted and ducked away from the pressure. He turned to stare at Sendak and in doing so lost sight of the other Galra.

That was his mistake. Before Lance could react, arms looped under his own and lifted up to rest by his shoulders effectively rendering both of his arms useless. He struggled to get out of the hold like he'd been taught as a child, but the metal was back on his wounded eye and pressing hard. He bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out in pain.

"Talk, and the pain will ease," Commander Sendak said casually. "Be silent and I'll start to enjoy myself." The yellow toothed grin Lance saw with his one good eye was something he never wanted to see.

He would not submit.

"From what I've been told, you made a space jump from the Yellow Lion to the surface of Khonsu before your capture," Sendak said. "Why? What were you doing there in the first place?"

Lance said nothing. The pressure increased bringing with it a new spark of pain.

"You must have had a reason to be there," Sendak said. "Tell me."

Lance remained silent and the pain increased. His lip began to bleed from the force of holding back his voice.

"Is a Lion there?" Sendak asked. "Our scans turned up nothing." His golden eye hardened. "Or perhaps not a Lion but the Castle of Lions?"

Lance said nothing but whimpered when the pressure on his eyes increased.

"Tell me why you were there," Sendak demanded, beginning to lose his temper. "What were you looking for?"

Tears began to form in the prince's eye and a sob broke through his lips, but he said nothing.

"Your yellow paladin left you behind," the commander said, trying a new method. "Clearly you don't mean as much to your own people as you think you do. I remember the Sentinel title from history. Wasn't the Sentinel's job to protect the chosen heir by any means necessary? Even at the cost of their own life?"

"I believe it was," the Galra holding Lance captive answered in a conversational tone.

"Then you were never intended to survive," Sendak said, returning his dispassionate gaze to the Altean prince. "You were meant to die for another. In essence, you were born to die."

Lance tried his hardest to remain impassive, but the words stung.

"The emperor mentioned a princess," Sendak said. "Your sister, I presume? She was the chosen heir wasn't she? You were supposed to die for her. But it didn't work out that way, did it?" Sendak smiled. "Tell me shapeshifter, did she die before or after you woke up from whatever kept you alive all this time?"

Lance glared at the Galra and growled. Sendak's smile grew to a smug grin and Lance knew he'd lost a battle.

"You killed her, didn't you?" the commander asked. "You wanted to live so badly that you murdered your own sister to ensure your own survival."

No. He's baiting you. Say nothing.

"Such an action is admirable in a Galra," Sendak said. "Are you sure you're fighting for the right side?"

Lance knew he shouldn't say anything. He shouldn't give any sort of reply at all. But he couldn't help it. He didn't regret it either.

He spit in Sendak's face, feeling warm satisfaction settle in his belly when he saw the Galra commander's stunned expression as saliva dripped down his glowing red mechanical eye. Then the expression morphed into fury.

"You pointy-eared bastard," Sendak snarled and clamped his mechanical hand around Lance's throat.

The prince gasped and struggled to catch his breath as the metal fingers closed tighter and tighter around his neck until he couldn't breathe at all. The Galra holding him from behind released him and Lance's hands immediately flew to the metallic hand currently choking him to death. His flesh and blood fingers scrabbled against the metal, trying to find a grip to pull the mechanical fingers away from his vulnerable throat. Breathe. He needed to breathe.

Suddenly, Lance's feet were no longer on the ground and his body was literally hanging from Sendak's grasp. The Altean's legs twitched and kicked, his toes brushing the floor just enough to tantalize him. He couldn't breathe. His chest hurt. His lungs burned. His body felt hot then cold then heavy as he ran out of oxygen in his system. The sight in his one good eye began to tunnel. He was dying, he realized with a cold finality. His blood roared in his ears drowning out whatever the Galra were saying. His hands slipped, falling limply by his side as his sight went black

He had the brief sensation of falling, then felt his body slam into something cold and hard. It took a minute for him to comprehend the fact he wasn't dead. He was breathing, coughing, desperately trying to get enough oxygen to satisfy his deprived system. He was alive and he was on the floor of his cell.

Alone.

He suddenly wasn't bored anymore. He didn't want to be noticed. He didn't want something to happen. He just wanted to lie here and come to terms with the fact that he was alive. He was alive.

He was alive.

He sobbed.

Why?

Why was he alive? Why had his father thrown him into a cryopod? Coran would have been the better choice. Lance was a fighter pilot and master marksman. He would have been useful to King Alfor and Altea during the Great War. Why did the king toss him into that pod? He didn't even ask Lance for his opinion on the subject. Lance had no ties to the Lions or the Castle except for his title as Sentinel.

But even that was a title more focused on his sister, Allura. Allura had been chosen as the heir of Altea and Lance was chosen to be her Sentinel. It was his job to watch and warn for danger and, if necessary, give his life to save hers. He never doubted his place. Sentinel was a title to be proud of. So why wasn't he proud? Why was he so scared? Why had no one ever taken his flirting seriously?

Because they knew he would die.

He didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

He was so alone.

He wanted to live, but not alone.

Allura. He had to get back to his sister. He had a duty to her. He had to live for her. He loved her.

He loved her. But he also hated her. She could never know. Lance hated himself for his own thoughts, even as he wept on the cell floor alone and cold on a Galra battlecruiser in the middle who-knows-where space.


When Keithek returned to the Altean prisoner's cell, he was momentarily caught off guard. Lance was nowhere to be seen. He almost panicked, until he noticed fluffy brown hair poking up from behind the cot in the far corner of the cell. Curious, Keithek walked carefully into the cell until he could see Lance clearly.

The Altean was curled in the corner between the cell walls and the cot with his legs folded up to his chest. His arms wrapped around his legs, holding them firmly in place, and his head was bowed hiding his face from sight. His brown hair was beginning to look a bit limp and the prisoner was probably in dire need of a shower, but otherwise he looked alright.

So why did this whole situation feel off? Normally, Keithek would come in to see the Altean lounging on the ground like a carefree idiot with a smile on his face and flirtatious manner. But something about Lance's body language screamed 'Stay away!' louder than any voice could.

What had happened while Keithek was away? What did he miss?

"What happened?" he asked pitching his voice low. It just seemed wrong to speak loudly in this place right now.

Lance was silent.

Now Keithek began to worry. He had never seen the Altean be silent before. There was always a steady stream of words, whether they made sense or not, flowing from Lance's mouth. But now there was silence. It was disconcerting.

Keithek paused. Why was he feeling concern for a prisoner? He hardly knew the Altean. Lance was just an assignment. And yet Keithek found himself calling the Altean prisoner by name. Lance was a challenge that Keithek welcomed. It was a challenge that meant no harm. Quite the opposite in fact. It was attractive. It appealed to Keithek's alpha instincts in a way nothing or no one else ever had before.

But seeing Lance like this, submissive and closed off, made the halfbreed uncomfortable.

"Who made you submit?" Keithek demanded, fighting back the annoyance he felt at the very idea of the Altean submitting to someone else. When Lance still said nothing, Keithek bit back a growl. He dropped to a crouch and stared directly at the Altean's head, waiting for Lance's face to lift. "Who was it? Who did you submit to?"

"I didn't submit!" Lance snapped, finally lifting his head to glare directly into Keithek's unusual eyes. His voice was a little more hoarse than Keithek remembered it to be. "Unlike some people," Lance said derisively, "I don't submit to just anyone."

"What're you implying?" Keithek hissed.

"How quickly did you go to Sendak with what I told you?" the Altean demanded, ignoring the halfbreed's question. "Did you go to him immediately or did you wait until you got bored before letting him take over?"

Keithek glared, trying to piece together the situation. "What are you talking about? I haven't spoken to the Commander since your capture."

"Oh yeah?" Lance purred angrily. "Did he promise you a promotion if you got me to talk? Was that why you were friendly with me? Because I was a means to an end?"

"What the jurt are you- The Commander has no interest in me. Why would he?" Keithek rolled his eyes. "I'm a halfbreed. As far as he's concerned, the only reason I'm on this ship in the first place is because I'm a damn good pilot and there aren't any Druids on board."

That seemed to catch Lance's attention. "No Druids?" he repeated.

Keithek furrowed his brows. "No, none," he confirmed. His eyes focused on the still dark bruise blossoming around the Altean's right eye. "Otherwise, they would've healed your eye already. The Emperor wants you unharmed."

Lance snorted a humorless laugh. "A little late for that," he said with a snarky quirk of his eyebrows. "I'm supposed to be alive too." He huffed. "I wonder how long that will last?"

"What do you mean?" Keithek asked, not liking the Altean's tone.

Lance chuckled darkly. "You might want to crawl back to your commander's lap and let him know that he can suck my dick if he thinks I'll submit to him," he said. "Quiznack him. He deserves it."

"The Commander," Keithek murmured, his gaze zeroing in on Lance's face. "He tortured you?" Keithek's violet eyes skittered across the prisoner's face and what he could see of Lance's skin for any new marks. "Did he make you submit?"

"As if I'd submit to a fanatical crazy man like him," Lance said with a scoff. He tilted his head to the side so his gaze could linger on the closed cell door. Unfortunately, this gave the halfbreed a better view of his neck. It may still be shadowed, but Keithek noticed the marks beginning to appear there.

Without asking for permission, Keithek took hold of Lance's chin in a firm grip and tilted the Altean's chin back so he could see Lance's bare neck. The sight was not a good one. Fresh bruises in the vague shape of a hand print as well as indentations from some sort of mechanical device encircled Lance's throat. They were faint for the moment, but they would grow darker over time.

Keithek felt the same growl build up in the back of his throat. He jerked Lance's face close to his so their eyes were directly in front of each other. "I don't care what they do to you," he said suddenly. "You will not submit to them. Do you understand me?"

"Wha-" Lance gasped. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Do not submit to them," Keithek said, tightening his grip on Lance's chin.

Something changed in the Altean's expression, a sparkle returned to his one good eye. "Oh?" he asked, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. "And why not? You don't control me. You never will." Keithek growled audibly but it only served to broaden Lance's smirk. "I submit to who I want, when I want."

"Do not submit to them," Keithek commanded.

"What's the magic word?" Lance asked in a sing-song voice.

Keithek hesitated, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Words are magic?"

Lance sighed and rolled his eye. "I guess that's a bit above your grade right now," he said, earning him a glare. "We'll work on it." The smirk was back full force, this time accompanied by Lance willingly lifting his chin so Keithek could access his vulnerable neck. "Right now, I have a question."

"What makes you think I'll answer?" Keithek countered.

"You just did."

That…was true. Keithek pouted and Lance's smile just grew wider.

"Fine," the halfbreed conceded, trying not to look at the willingly offered neck. "What do you want?"

"Help me get out of here."

Keithek blinked, then laughed in disbelief. "What?" He studied Lance's face closely in growing comprehension. "You're serious," he murmured.

"Very," Lance said. "Come with me."

That gave Keithek pause.

"You're not beneath anyone," Lance said. "You're my equal."

"You're a prisoner," Keithek said firmly.

"Not for much longer," Lance said seriously. "You don't have full command over me. You never will. No one ever will, honestly. But once Sendak takes me to Zarkon, he'll hand me over and you'll never see me again." Lance took Keithek's hand, startling the halfbreed. "Let's get out of here. Just you and me. We'll be free of this. We'll fight Zarkon."

"You won't win."

Lance gave Keithek a sly grin that did things to the halfbreed he wasn't sure he disliked. "Are you so sure?" Lance asked, his words dangling a tidbit of information in front of the halfbreed's face.

"We're about to go into a slipstream," Keithek said. "It won't work."

"Again," Lance said, leaning closer, "are you so sure?"

Keithek did not give way, not even when the Altean unfolded himself and leaned forward so he was very much in Keithek's personal space. "You say you're a good pilot," Lance said. "I think I'm better."

Keithek glared. "Is that a challenge?"

"Only one way to find out, Keith."

Jurt, the way the Altean said that truncated form of his name was just sinful. Lance knew exactly what he was doing. Keithek knew Lance knew what he was doing, but the halfbreed was still falling for it. It was a trap, and not necessarily a bad one.

"Show me," Lance said. "Impress me or I won't believe you."

Keithek snarled. "Don't tempt me," he warned.

Lance leaned closer so his lips were a hairs breadth away from Keithek's and breathed on them. "Didn't you know?" he teased softly. He ran his tongue along his lower lip, knowing exactly how distracting it was to the halfbreed. "I'm a bad influence."

Keithek gulped. "We wouldn't make it," he said, trying to come up with a counter argument.

"It's a better chance than staying here," Lance said, reaching up with his left hand to trace a nail down Keithek's light purple cheek. "Of course," he added, "I understand if you're too afraid to-"