"Not hungry, Keith?"

The red paladin blinked up at Hunk, then back down at his almost untouched plate. "Huh? Oh. No, I'm… it's good, Hunk. Thanks for making it."

"Not what I asked." The resident chef frowned just a little, a worried sort of frown, not an angry one. "We had a rough fight today. Aren't you hungry?"

Keith rubbed a hand across his mouth, contemplating the food in front of him. "I mean, yeah, it's just—Will you cut that out, Lance? That's really bad for you!"

"Hey, chill, dude!" Lance shot his teammate a glare as he crunched down on another ice cube. "I like them, okay?"

"Since when do you like chewing on ice?" Pidge adjusted her glasses, one eyebrow raised. "I don't remember you ever doing that at the Garrison."

"It's kind of a new thing, I guess." The blue paladin folded his arms. "It's cold, and I like it, so gimme a break!"

Hunk held up his hands. "Hey, I didn't say anything." He slanted a concerned look at Keith. "Seriously, though, aren't you hungry? You were really blasting things up out there, you've gotta be starving. I know I am!"

"That's… kinda the problem." Keith sighed. It wasn't like there was any need to hide it. It just felt… a bit weird to talk about this. "Look, whenever I use Red's fire laser, I get this… aftertaste, like hot metal and smoke. It takes a few hours for it to go away. I'm not eating because I can't really taste the food." He quirked a small grin at the yellow paladin. "I want to actually enjoy your cooking."

The others exchanged looks. Keith tried not to hunker down in his chair as puzzlement, worry, and interest flickered around him. Finally Shiro leaned forward, brows knitted over concerned grey eyes. "Thank you for telling us, Keith. It's good for us to know what tolls fighting takes on our teammates."

"So…" Lance drummed his fingers on the table with a thoughtful expression. "Your Lion is the one breathing fire, but you get an aftertaste?"

"The Lions are bonded to their paladins, remember?" Keith shrugged. "It's like when those cubes on Olkarion blasted your ice back at you. Blue's head got frozen, but you got brain freeze."

"Ooh, yeah." The blue paladin winced at the memory. "And when Hunk had a sore back after Yellow held up the ark on Taujeer."

"Maybe that's why you've started chewing on ice," Pidge suggested. "Blue's element is water. She likes ice and cold."

"The Lions and their paladins are separate entities, but the bonds between them…" Allura waved a hand, her expression distant. "My father didn't talk about it much, but from what he did tell me… You and your Lions share each other's quintessence. That's how you are able to communicate. But it does have… other effects." She glanced at Keith. "Now that you mention it, I do remember Father once describing an aftertaste from the fire laser. I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner."

"Hey, not your fault." Keith gave her a wry grin. "And anyway, I'm not sure I'd have believed you at first. It's neat, just… weird."

"So our Lions reflect their elements." Shiro pushed his food around his plate, looking thoughtful. "And we share our Lions' quintessence through our bonds. That's… amazing."

Lance smirked and poked Pidge in the shoulder with his fork. "Good luck doing science to that one!"

Hunk stirred the last stray bits of flour into the batter. He'd found an alien spice a while ago that, if prepared properly, tasted almost exactly like cocoa, and he was determined to find a way to make a decent batch of space brownies. He poured the batter into the prepared pan and slipped it into the oven, peering through the window at it with a sense of satisfaction. Okay, probably gonna be about forty-five minutes… need to figure out how many doboshes that is…

(Seriously, the amount of math he had to do just to function in an alien kitchen? Put the Garrison calc class to shame.)

He turned back to the counter to grab the tablet he used for calculations, but his wrist caught the end of the mixing spoon. The batter-covered utensil flipped through the air wit the bowl right behind it.

Spla-thnk!

Hunk stared at the mess of batter all over the sparkling floor and groaned as he reached for a towel. "Great, just my luck…"

"Everything okay in here?"

"Whoa, whoza—oh, hi Keith." Hunk looked up from his scrubbing as the red paladin appeared around the edge of the counter. "Is there, uh, something I can help you with?"

Keith folded his arms, taking in the mess. "I could be asking you the same thing."

"What, this? Nah, I'm fine." Hunk gave him a strained smile. "Just a little spill, nothing major. You, er, looking for something?"

"Just getting a drink," Keith answered, reaching for a cupboard near the stove. Hunk narrowed his eyes as the other paladin lifted down a small box from the top shelf.

"Ah-hah! So you're the one who's been taking my tea!"

"Sorry, I thought it was for everyone." Keith shrugged an apology and went right ahead with his preparations, setting a pot on the stove to boil. "No offense, but that coffee substitute you came up with just doesn't taste all that great, and I wanted something hot."

"No, no, it's okay." Hunk finished wiping up the batter smudges and deposited the bowl and mixing spoon in the dishwasher. "I was just curious where my stash was going, that's all." He scooped up his tablet and opened the calculator, then hesitated as he realized his concoction had already been cooking for several minutes. "Gah, now I'm gonna be shooting even more in the dark… just fantastic…"

The other paladin raised an eyebrow. "You sure there's nothing I can help with?"

"No, it's nothing, I just didn't do the cooking time calculations as soon as the brownies went in the oven, had to clean up the mess…" Hunk waved a frustrated hand, jabbing at the tablet buttons harder than was necessary. "And this morning I put my shirt on backwards, and my vest was inside out, and it's just been a… an off kind of day, you know?" He sighed, mentally calculating how long it had been since he put the brownies in. Maybe three minutes since Keith came in… so five total? Yeah, I'll go with that. "I've been having a lot of those days lately. It's just… frustrating."

"I know what you mean." Keith toyed with a mug, eying the other boy thoughtfully. "Any idea what might be causing it?"

"I don't think anything's causing it really, I'm just having a string of bad days, I guess." Hunk tapped in an equation that was his and Pidge's best extrapolation for converting minutes to doboshes. It wasn't too complicated but he wanted to get it right, and most of his attention went into the task as he continued to ramble more to the air than to the other paladin. "And it's been a while since we were on a planet, you know? I mean, the Castle's great, and it's so big it's not like I've got cabin fever or anything, it's just… we've been surrounded by space for so long. It's kind of unsettling."

Keith's jaw worked as he mulled that over. "So… you miss being on a planet."

"Well, yeah?" Hunk shrugged, checking his calculations. Thirty-two doboshes. And the brownies have been in for about… three doboshes. So twenty-nine more to go. "I mean, we're planet people. Not planets, that's not… we're from a planet. Exploring space is cool and all, but there's nothing quite like a solid surface under you that isn't a man-made piece of metal hurtling along at hundreds of miles an hour."

"So that's why you didn't want to do that spacewalk yesterday."

"Um, duh? Who wants to be floating in a void with nothing under them?" The yellow paladin scooped up the timer and entered the amount he wanted. "I mean, I did it. I can do it just fine. I just don't like it."

"No, no, I think I get it." Keith poured the hot water into his mug, watching color leech from the leaves trapped in the tea strainer. "Space is… intimidating."

Hunk let out a rush of air, relieved. "Yeah, that's exactly it. Uh, could you, er, move over? I need to get in the fridge, Pidge said she was craving a salad."

The red paladin slanted an odd smile at him and stepped away from the refrigerator door, then leaned back against the counter as he swirled the contents of his mug. "By the way, I don't mean to change the subject, but… a while back I picked up this really cool rock on one of the planets we stopped at, and I thought one of you sciencey types would appreciate it more than I do. I'm gonna go hit the training deck; can I drop it off in your room on the way?"

"Uh…" Hunk blinked. "Sure. Just leave it on my bed."

The brownies turned out very well. So did Pidge's salad. And when Hunk finally made it to his bedroom that evening he found on his pillow a chunk of rose quartz perhaps half the size of his palm, rough around the edges and banded through with glittering black and grey stone. He rolled it around in his hand, savoring its untainted solidity.

It was in his pocket all the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. Whenever he felt snappish or out of sorts he'd reach his hand in and rub his fingers over the stone's surface, and somehow its presence, its unchanging durability, soothed his fraying nerves. Once or twice when he was stroking it he caught Keith giving him a knowing look, but the first time Hunk shot him a grateful smile, and the red paladin smiled back and said nothing more about the matter.

At least, to Hunk.

They landed on a planet about a week later to meet with a band of rebels. It was a stormy, windy place, and most of them stayed inside as much as possible, but Pidge and Lance went on one excursion to take a look around. When they came back, grinning and dripping wet, Pidge almost shyly came up to Hunk and held out her hand. "We found this and, er, I thought you'd like it."

Mystified, Hunk picked up the offered item—a pale grey bit of stone maybe as big as his thumb, worn smooth by years of wind and water. It was beautiful, in a simple, solid sort of way, and Hunk blinked down at it as he traced its curved surface. "Uh, thanks Pidge."

"No problem."

The green paladin darted off with unusual alacrity and Hunk stared after her, suspicion starting to bloom. He turned to eye Keith, who stood next to Shiro as their leader conversed with one of the rebel leaders. The red paladin was watching him sidelong, and when Hunk caught his gaze he rolled his eyes and shrugged, flashing a small half grin.

Nobody said anything more about it. But every time they landed somewhere new, Hunk got a new rock.

He kept them all, and one was always in his pocket.

"You okay?"

Shiro blinked and looked up from the tablet he'd been reading. "Huh?"

"You keep… I don't know, gasping. Breathing really deep. Whatever." Lance tapped a finger against his sweating glass of ice water and squinted at his leader. "It's like you're not breathing right."

"I feel fine." The black paladin frowned, calling to conscious thought one of those basic bodily functions that you don't notice unless you think about it. And… huh. Weird. "I guess I'm just taking deeper breaths than usual, or something. It's not a big deal."

"You sure? You keep doing it."

"Pretty sure. I mean, there's nothing particularly wrong about needing more air, is there?"

"I suppose not." Lance sipped at his drink, expression still a bit suspicious. Then he raised a disbelieving eyebrow as his gaze shifted to stare over Shiro's shoulder. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Shiro looked behind him. And blinked again.

Keith glared at them both, wrapped in a blanket that covered most of his head and trailed down to the floor, forming a kind of train behind him as he stomped down the steps. "I'm cold. This is what people do when they're cold. And no, I do not have a fever, I just have a high normal temperature." He dropped onto the couch, scowling. "Pidge already dragged me to the infirmary to check. Very thoroughly."

"You're cold?" Lance said, voice dripping disbelief. "It's almost too warm in here!"

"That's 'cause you're just weird." Keith raised an eyebrow at the blue paladin's oversized glass. "I mean, that thing is huge, and I saw you refill it twice while I was helping Hunk with those cookies! What's the deal, you wormholing to a desert when we're not looking?"

"Hey, it's not a crime to be thirsty!"

Shiro sighed as the two younger paladins devolved into bickering. Not getting any more reading done for a while.

Pidge rubbed her aching leg, and sighed. She'd been working at her station for most of the day, refining her "Galra tracker," as the others insisted upon calling it. (Uncultured swine.) And that was great. She loved working with tech. But restlessness itched at her, and the need to get up and move around and explore something was getting unbearable.

Giving in, she swung her feet over the edge of her chair and strapped her crutches onto her arms. Unlike under-the-arm Earth crutches, the ones Coran had found for her in a med bay closet cradled the forearm, distributing her weight and putting less stress on her joints. It amazed her that such a design wasn't a thing on Earth. She eased herself into a standing position with ginger care, favoring her sore right leg. Three days ago they'd tangled with a couple Galra cruisers, and in the confusion of the battle she and Green had accidentally gotten trapped between them. As they'd scrambled to get away one of the cruisers had fired at them with its ion cannon.

They'd dodged. Mostly.

Pidge winced, remembering the explosion of searing pain through her right hip as Green's leg and hindquarters took the glancing blow. She'd almost gone to the floor with what felt like the worst charley horse of all time, every muscle from hip to ankle gripped in a spasm beyond what she could bear. The others had rushed in to cover them as Green limped to the fringes of the battle, and when Shiro had carried her out of the cockpit afterward Pidge had blinked through her tears of pain and gaped at the damage to her Lion. The top of Green's right hind leg was stripped almost to the frame, burnt and twisted and horribly disfigured. It was then she'd realized that, although she'd felt her Lion's agony, Green had done her best to shield her from the worst of it. Aside from the pain and cramps and some bruising on her thigh, she'd sustained no real injuries.

Thanks, girl.

Now the Lion sat on the far side of the bay, shield up to facilitate her repair mode. Pidge could see occasional ripples of quintessence as Green slowly stitched herself back together. The process puzzled and amazed her, for already much of the damaged frame was no longer visible, covered with new plates that appeared as the quintessence flowed and ebbed. Matter just didn't come spontaneously into being like that. Or at least it wasn't supposed to. But we can summon our bayards, and their weapons materialize from our quintessence, and so do Voltron's power-ups…

All of which suggested a link between matter and quintessence that she just wasn't up to puzzling out right now. With a wave to Green, she left the bay and headed in a random direction.

These restless spells had grown oddly frequent, and to assuage them Pidge had taken to exploring the Castle. The ship was huge, so she was in no danger of running out of new nooks and crannies to discover any time soon. But today it didn't seem like she was going to check anything else off the list, because as she rounded a corner she saw a tasseled blanket lying in the middle of the hallway.

What…?

Glancing around, she just glimpsed Allura disappearing down the passage that led to the princess' bedroom. The older girl seemed to be carrying a big stack of something. Maybe she'd dropped the blanket? Best guess I'm gonna have…

It took a bit of maneuvering to get low enough to scoop the blanket over her shoulder, but Pidge managed it. Then she set out after Allura, the tapping of her crutches echoing through the empty hall. The sound was slightly ominous and a bit lonely, really. If her expeditions around the Castle had taught her anything it was that there were supposed to be a lot more people living here. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Not seven. But her efforts at speed proved unsuccessful, and she arrived outside Allura's door quite out of breath without having caught up to the princess. Her knock, however, received an immediate answer, and the door glided open to reveal Allura in the middle of replacing her bed linens. The Altean had one knee braced against the bedframe as she wrestled with the corner of a fitted sheet, and she looked up with a somewhat flustered expression. "Hello, Pidge, can I help you?"

Pidge fished the blanket from her shoulder and held it out. "I think you dropped this?"

"What? Oh!" The other girl's eyes widened. "I hadn't realized! Thank you for bringing it back!" She frowned at the sheet she had gripped in both hands. "Just give me a minute…"

"Where do you want it?" Pidge tapped her way inside, looking around for a good place for the blanket. "You're kinda busy at the moment. Fitted sheets are the worst."

"They really are." Allura glanced about the room. "Just drop it over the back of that chair."

Pidge complied, wincing as her leg suddenly cramped. The princess noticed. "Is your leg bothering you?"

"A bit. Mind if I sit down?"

"Not at all."

The green paladin dropped gratefully onto the chair, fingering the blanket tassels. They were long and soft, each one an array of colors from the blanket's threads, and she absently began to braid and unbraid one of them as she watched Allura wrestle the sheet into submission. It was nice in here. The princess's room was, understandably, larger than the paladins', with a soaring ceiling that had strategically placed lights to give it a kind of glow. Pidge suddenly wondered how the fabric of the bedding and clothes had lasted through ten thousand years. Maybe the whole Castle had been in some kind of stasis that was broken when the to-be paladins had shown up.

Once upon a time, there was a princess…

"What are you smiling about?"

Pidge blinked, and grinned at Allura's puzzled expression. "Just an old Earth story. It's about this princess who pricks her finger and falls asleep…"

Lance finished his post-workout scrub and turned his face to the shower head, closing his eyes as he let the water run over him. Several hours of training and exercise, a grueling study of battle tactics and strategies… his body hurt. His brain hurt. And the water felt so good. Earlier, when he'd overheated during training, he'd taken a dip in the pool to cool off (Allura had given them all lessons in the art of Altean swimming pools after he and Keith had complained about their mishap). It had been glorious to plunge into the water, all but losing himself in the cool depths, and for a moment he'd had no idea where the surface was, as if the world was nothing but water and he could drift in it forever. Now he just stood, and soaked, and let the cascade drench him, easing his aches and weariness. The showers were wonderfully quiet since the others had already washed up and left, and he closed his eyes to better enjoy the sound of splashing water.

"Lance? You still in here?"

Lance jumped, and a bit guiltily stuck his head out of the shower curtain. "Yeah, Shiro, it's me. You finished?"

"Just wrapped up." The black paladin mopped his face with a towel and began taking off his vambraces and gloves. Lance could see fatigue tremors in his hands. "Wanted to go through some old forms with an open floor." He raised an eyebrow at his young compatriot. "How long have you been in there?"

"Not sure, to be honest." Lance shut off the water with a twinge of regret and reached for his towel. "I was done cleaning up, just enjoying the water."

"It is refreshing." Shiro bent to pull off his boots and greaves. "I hope you left some hot water for me."

"Don't worry, I left plenty." Lance quirked a grin. "Not so sure about Keith, though."

The black paladin laughed. "Hey, I can't grudge him a hot shower. There's nothing quite like one."

Lance rolled his eyes and ducked into one of the changing rooms with his bundle of clothing. "Sez you, maybe. Gimme a cold shower any day."

He dried himself off and climbed into his casual clothes, taking a couple extra minutes once he finished dressing to adjust a shoelace that had been giving his toes pins and needles. Finally satisfied, he stepped out of the little changing room and was surprised to see Shiro still struggling with his armor. The other paladin twisted an arm in an attempt to get at a shoulder clasp, and winced. "Ow. Okay, I think I pushed my shoulders a little too hard today. Would you mind getting the pauldrons for me?"

"No problem." Lance crossed over to his friend and went to work on the clasps. They weren't difficult to undo, especially if you weren't having to turn yourself into a pretzel to reach it, and he pried both plates loose without issue. "There, you're good. Want help with any of the others?"

"I think I'm good on the rest." Shiro turned a slight frown on him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Lance blinked. "I mean, I'm sore, but… yeah, why?"

"Your hands are freezing."

"I had the water kinda cold."

"But you've been out long enough to warm up." Shiro felt Lance's hand, then his forehead, still frowning. "You're definitely on the chilly side. Not a lot, but… your fingers are really cold."

Lance shoved his hands into his pockets, offering a shrug. "It's no big, I've got a low body temp. At least, that's what Hunk says. I can't figure out how to interpret that thermometer thing Coran has us use."

"Is that… normal?"

"For me? No idea." Lance waved a hand. "It's not like I actually paid attention during those mandatory checkups at the Garrison." He flashed the black paladin a cheeky grin. "There were always responsible adults around to worry about things like that."

Shiro's concerned look relaxed a bit, and he gave his young friend a small grin of his own. "Fair point. But you'd better start taking care of yourself, too."

"…I'm gonna tell Allura you said that."

Grey eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare, you—"

Cackling, Lance bolted.

Shiro gripped the arms of his chair, hoping it wasn't too obvious to the rest of the people at the table. Diplomatic negotiations with the Peshtians had finished and a celebratory dinner was now in full swing, but he'd been on edge ever since they'd arrived in the cave-dwellers' underground city. He'd been trying to pay attention to the conversation, but the longer dinner dragged on the shorter and more stilted his responses had become. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to anyone, it was just… all he could focus on was the overpowering sensation of tons and tons of earth above him, trapping him down here, so much unmoving weight between him and open air, and down here the air was so still and crushed beneath rock—

A hand plucked at his elbow, and he jumped. "Wha—oh, hi Pidge."

"Hey." The green paladin kept her voice almost to a whisper, glancing at the Peshtians in the chairs on either side of him with a conspiratorial air. "Dinner's technically over, so… I'm gonna go explore. You want to come?"

Shiro wrestled with his better judgment, and lost. "Sure."

They slipped out of the dining hall and wound around several turns to make sure they were out of the vicinity of anyone who would tell them to go back. Then Pidge tapped something into her vambrace hologram and pulled up a map of the cave network. "Okay, there's an exit this way."

"Lead on." Shiro frowned at her. "Although, I thought you said you wanted to explore…?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder at him with a funny half smile. "That's what I'm doing. Exploring outside. If we hurry we can catch the sunset."

"I thought you liked exploring new cities."

"Well, yeah, but there're other things I like to see, too. I'll do that later. Don't you like being outside?"

Shiro caught her tone, and one of the anxious knots in his stomach loosened a little. He always tried to look out for his team, to make sure they were okay and supported and prepared for whatever this war might throw at them, but… it was nice, when they did the same for him. Not that either side ever said that was what they were doing, but he knew they were looking out for him and was grateful all the same. "Yeah, I could go for a little fresh air."

Pidge chuckled. "I couldn't tell that at dinner at all, and anyway, I was the one who put those fans in your room."

Fair point. Shiro had had trouble sleeping in his room at the Castle until the green paladin had installed a couple fans to keep the air moving at night. And—wait. "Was I really that obvious at dinner?"

"Not really." The girl waved a dismissive hand as she led him up a flight of stairs cut from the native rock. "We could tell, but the Peshtians were clueless. One of the ones next to me said something about how animated we all were. I think they can't read human facial expressions very well."

"Makes sense." Shiro pulled in a breath, trying to fill his lungs. Okay, more like he was trying to feel like his lungs were filled. The air was so still and tepid down here he just couldn't seem to breathe deeply enough, and the sense of pressure and weight crushing down from above was only making matters worse. Get a hold of yourself, the cave is not actually crushing you, there's just a lot of stone over your head… Okay, not helping, not helping…

"Hey, we should keep a lookout for rocks for Hunk." Pidge bent and picked up a pebble, tossing it experimentally in her hand. "I haven't gotten one for him here yet."

Shiro blinked, glad for something to focus on other than breathing. "Good idea."

As they headed for the exit they cast about for small stones, comparing ones they found and debating what sort of stone would best memorialize their visit. While the activity did help it didn't distract Shiro entirely from the apparent lack of air, and when they finally stepped outside he pulled in a deep breath and savored the freshness and the freedom and the relief. No unfathomable mass over his head, a breeze on his face… He breathed again, and again, enjoying the rush of air through his chest and throat. Clean, pure air, not air damp and still from its interminable presence in a cave. Pidge meanwhile scampered ahead and clambered up a pile of boulders, waving at him excitedly. "Come on, hurry up! The sun's about to set!"

Invigorated by the fresh air and the open sky overhead, Shiro climbed up beside her. The boulder-strewn plain rolled away before them, dust motes curling lazily in the wind, to a golden sun dipping into molten gold and coral glory. Pink and yellow and orange and purple flowed away across the dome of the sky, smudged here and there with the deep maroons of drifting clouds, until it all blended with the greens and blues of approaching night amid the first twinkling of stars. Two of the planet's five moons were visible, one a pale cat's claw slice almost right overhead, the other a pink-hued three-quarter disc low to the horizon. The black paladin gazed in wonder at the size and scope of the glory around him, and breathed it all in.

Pidge sat at his elbow, swinging her legs as she absently tossed and caught again the rock she'd chosen for Hunk. "Wow. I don't care how many times I see them, I never get tired of sunsets."

Shiro settled himself more comfortably on the boulder, a fresh breeze easing away the last of the knots in his stomach. The sky above them was so open, so free, the wind so soothing, as the sun blazed its way to sleep.

"Me neither."

A/N: The crutches Pidge is using are based on M+D crutches and KMINA crutches, which minimize pressure on the arms and upper body and allow hands-free movement (you can find demos of both brands on YouTube, although I'm not sure they're out in the market yet). Seriously, Earth crutches are terrible.

I know Shiro is Japanese and "kata" is the word used in Japanese martial arts, such as karate, but the amount of kicking he does when fighting (and the way he kicks) strongly suggests to me a background in taekwondo, which is Korean and relies more heavily on the feet than many other martial arts. Thus I have him using the word "form" instead, which is the typical word used among English-speaking taekwondo practitioners, at least in my experience. (For those not familiar with martial arts, a form/kata is a sequence of moves—blocks, kicks, punches, etc.—that trains the practitioner in those moves and in how to effectively link them together in combat. Technically, a form is a stylized combat, usually practiced with an invisible opponent. Doing a form with a physical opponent or opponents is an amazing experience.)

The chapter title (and that of the next chapter) is a tribute to one of the first stories I ever followed on here and its author, Jade TeaLeaf, one of my greatest mentors as a writer. You probably wouldn't be reading this today if it weren't for her. She unfortunately never finished the story, but it was still an incredible work, and her mentorship is one of the things I value most about my time on this site.

Please review!