Summary: After Lance disrupts Zethrid from going after Pidge for information she decides that the loud one could work too. Ezor agrees. "I'm sure his screams are lovely."
Timeline notes: Set in season seven, episode three.
Warning notes: None
Additional notes: For Tumblr follower kiriban event with prompt:Lifted by neck - Lance
The Loud One Works Too
"I'd bet half my fleet that this group of heroes has a soft spot for the small one."
Zethrid's words echoed in the cell and her gaze turned toward Pidge, fangs pulling into a smile. "You."
Pidge's eyes widened behind her glasses, a soft, barely audible gasp pulled from her lips.
Zethrid stepped forward.
Lance knew he was severely outclassed by the two part-Galrans and the energy cuffs weren't helping that in any way, but like heck was he going to let either of them harm a hair on Pidge's head.
Not on his watch.
"Don't you touch her!"
He lunged forward, swinging his bound arms at Ezor, half-hoping the rest of the team would leap into action too and overwhelm the two commanders turned pirates with sheer numbers.
Ezor easily dodged, a laugh on her lips.
Lance barely had time to turn around, to try again, when she kicked her leg out and connected solidly with his chest.
He went flying, skidding on his back along the cell floor with a shout.
He planted his feet, tensing to leap up…
And a hand wrapped about his neck and slammed his head against the ground.
Lance saw stars.
He gagged as the hand tightened — Zethrid, he identified, — and then lifted him up, all of his weight dangling from the hold.
Black spots danced in his eyes.
He faintly heard shouting.
Hunk?
"I suppose we could always torture the loud one," Zethrid mused, giving him a shake.
Lance gagged again, weakly raising his bound hands up and fingers scrabbling at the underside of Zethrid's single hand, leaving barely there scratches behind.
It did no good.
The black spots took up more of his vision.
Lance could blearily make out his team looking at him, horror and anger etched in their faces.
"What do you think, Ezor? Does this one work for you instead?"
A more slender hand lighted upon his cheek followed by another giggle.
Lance unsuccessfully tried to jerk his head away from her touch.
She laughed again. "I'm sure his screams are lovely." Her thumb rubbed his cheek. "Just like his skin. So smooth."
Hunk took a step forward and Lance saw in his peripheral Krolia shift her stance.
"Uh uh," Zethrid chided and somehow her grip tightened even more. "One more step and I'll break his scrawny neck."
Hunk halted abruptly.
Lance's hands fell limp in front of him from his useless attempt at pulling Zethrid's away.
"Now, what shall we do first?" Zethrid asked, turning her arm so Lance was forced to look at her face. "I've always been partial to explos—"
An alarm blared.
Lance's breath hitched in a way that had nothing to do with his nearly closed airway.
Gracias a Dios.
"What the...?" Ezor looked up at the ceiling as though it held the answers.
Zethrid scowled. "Damnit."
Her hold loosened and suddenly there was air as Lance fell from her grasp, landing painfully on his knees as his legs kicked out and tried to get underneath him.
The two Galrans took off without another word, cell door slamming closed behind them and Lance doubled over, coughing.
"Lance, hermano, you okay?" Hunk was kneeling in front of him then, his own bound hands clutching at Lance's forearm while the others gathered around.
"Y-yeah," Lance rasped, reflexive tears brimming in his eyes from the coughing.
He was fine.
Pidge was unhurt.
And now it was time to get the heck out of here.
Author's notes: I adored this scene so so much (protective Lance over Pidge? Gimme ) but I always hated the fact that no one else did anything. Like, wtf? You're Paladins of Voltron with a kickass Blade member and Romelle has shown her mettle at this point too. No one else jumped in? Anyways, rewrite of it with some Lance whump because protective Lance and whumped Lance is best Lance. Mmm. Enjoy? Please leave a comment below give some love to the author!