I know I said we were going to have a Shiro point of view in this chapter, but after thinking about it, I decided that the strategy meeting didn't actually add anything to the story, so I switched the order and decided to have Darrow's reaction to learning that Mustang already knows who he is.

1/6/18: No re-writes. I didn't have anything to change from this chapter.

Chapter 23: A Dance:

Pax Praetor's Stateroom

En Route to the Asteroid Belt

February 1st, 2841

A few hours after the war meeting, Darrow suppressed a brief yawn as he followed Mustang down the halls his stateroom, lights coming to muted life as they walked past along the marble floor of his suite. He'd been dreaming of his late wife, Eo. Of lying down in bed together and simply being with her. Upon being woken from slumber, he'd brought up the door's security feeds, displaying a holo of Mustang standing in the hall. He'd instinctively risen to let her in, but paused when he reached the door. The plan had already been decided on, and there was nothing left to discuss at this hour. After a brief minute of indecision, he'd let her in. After ordering the stubbornly loyal Ragnar to get some sleep, he and Mustang had a meandering conversation about thinks such as their tastes in music, her father's paranoia about robots, and what alien civilizations like the Atleans, the Olkari, and the Galra would think of humanity's empire.

Darrow couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of the great ArchGovernor Augustus having nightmares about robot uprisings. And he was constantly amazed at Shiro's many stories of his adventures as a Paladin of Voltron. As they talked, Mustang walked around, exploring the six large rooms of what had once been the Ash Lord's private quarters. Eventually, she'd found a training room, and slipped ahead faster than Darrow cared to follow. Now, he found her moments later stading in the center of the circular training room. The white sparring mat was soft under his feet, and carvings lined the room's wooden walls.

"The House of Grimmus is an old one," Mustang commented as she pointed to an old frieze of a man in armor. "You can see the Ash Lord's first ancestor there. Seneca au Grimmus, the first Gold to touch land in the Iron Rain that took the American eastern seaboard after one of Cassius's ancestors, forget his name, broke through the Atlantic Fleet. Then there is Vitalia au Grimmus, the Great Witch, right there." She turned back to him. "Do you even know the history of the things you try to break?"

"It was Scipio au Bellona who defeated the Atlantic Fleet," Darrow remarked. I'll never understand why she does this, he thought to himself. Pretends she doesn't know something that every Gold is expected to know just to make sure that people are paying attention to her when she talks.

"Was it?" Mustang asked, managing make her feigned ignorance appear completely genuine. Fortunately for Darrow, he knew her well enough to see through the masks she wore.

"I studied the history," he answered. "Just as well as you." He grinned when she gave him a smirk of satisfaction.

"But you stand apart from it, don't you?" she asked. "You always have. Like you're an outsider looking in. It was growing up away from all this in your family's mine that did the trick, wasn't it? That's why you can ask a question like 'What would aliens think of us?'" Hearing her talk about the fake mines of his backstory sent a jab of homesickness through his heart. It had only been four years since he was just a Helldiver, a lowly Red living under the surface of Mars. Four years since he had seen his family. Four years since Eo had died.

"You're just as much an outsider as I am," he retorted, trying to deflect the conversation away from himself. He could tell from the look on her face that she deliberately brought up the asteroid mines of House Andromedus to gauge his reaction, probing his face to see what he was thinking. "I've read your dissertations."

"You have?" she asked, feigning surprise. She knew he read the papers she'd written during her time on Luna, and she knew he knew she knew.

"Believe it or not, I can read too," Darrow joked as he shook his head. "It's like everyone forgets I only missed one question on the Institute's slangsmarts test."

"Ew," she replied teasingly. "You missed a question?" She wrinkled her nose mirthfully as she picked up a practice razor from a nearby bench. "I suppose that's why you weren't in Minerva."

"How did Pax manage to get picked by House Minverva, by the way?" Darrow asked. "I've always wondered… He wasn't exactly a scholar."

"How did Roque end up in Mars?" she replied with a shrug. "Each of us have hidden depths. Now, Pax wasn't as bright as Daxo is, but wisdom is found in the heart, not the head. Pax taught me that." She paused as she smiled distantly. "The one grace my father gave me after my mother died was letting me visit the Telemanus estate. He kept Adrius and me apart to make assassination of his heirs more difficult. I was lucky to be near them. Though if I hadn't been, maybe Pax wouldn't have been quite so loyal. Maybe be wouldn't have asked to be in Minerva. Maybe he'd be alive. Sorry…" She shook her head to push away the sadness before looking back to Darrow with a tight smile.

"What did you think of my dissertations?" she asked, clearly curious to finally find out what he thought of her work.

"Which one?" Darrow inquired.

"Surprise me," she answered. Alright then, he thought. I guess I should go with my favorite then.

"The Insects of Specialization," he said. A snap rang out as a practice razor slapped into his arm, stinging the flesh. "What the hell?" He yelped in surprise.

"I was making sure you were paying attention," Mustang remarked as she stood there, looking innocent as she swished the practice blade back and forth.

"Paying attention?" Darrow exclaimed. "I was answering your question!"

"Alright," she replied with a shrug before lashing at him again. "Perhaps I just wanted to hit you."

"Why?" Darrow asked as he dodged.

"No reason in particular," Mustang commented. She swung again, and he dodged. "But they say even a fool learns something once it hits him."

"Don't quote – " he began before he twisted aside from another slash. "Homer… to me."

"Why is that dissertation your favorite?" she asked cooly as she swung at him again. Practice razors had no edge, but they were as hard as wooden canes. Darrow left his feet, twisting sideways out of the way like a Lykos tumbler.

"Because…" he tried to answer as he dodged another strike." Goryhell, he thought. What is she trying to do?

"When you're on your heels, you're a liar," Mustang remarked. "On your toes, you spit truth." She paused as she swung at him again. "Now spit." She smacked his kneecap, and he rolled away, trying to reach the other practice razors. But she kept him from the weapons rack with a flurry of swinging. "Spit!" she urged again.

"I liked it – " Darrow began as he jumped backwards. "Because you said 'Specialization makes us limited, simple insects; a fact…" he paused to dodge. "From…" He dodged again. "which even Gold is not immune." At this, Mustang stopped attacking and stared at him accusatorially. Almost immediately Darrow realized he'd fallen into a trap.

"If you agree with that, then why do you insist on making yourself only a warrior?" she asked.

"Its what I am," Darrow replied.

"It's what you are?" she asked rhetorically with a laugh. "You, who trust Victra. A Julii. You, who trusted Tactus. You, who let an Orange give strategic recommendations. You, who gives command of your ship to a Docker and keeps an entourage of Bronzies?" She paused as she wagged a finger at him. "Don't be a hypocrite, now, Darrow au Andromedus. If you're going to tell everyone else they can choose their destiny, then you damn well better do the same." A look of sadness pasted itself on Darrow's face. He knew that Mustang was too smart to lie to. It's why he was always so ill at ease when she started asking him questions and probing things he couldn't explain. If he were really a Gold, there would be no explainable motivation for most of his actions.

"That look," she commented as she took a step back. "Where do you go when you look at me like that?" The color slipped from her face as her smile slackened. "Is it Victra?"

"Victra?" he asked, almost laughing. "No."

"Then her," Mustang said. "The girl you lost. Eo." Darrow remained silent. She'd never pried before. But he'd been stupid to think that she would ever forget that he'd whispered the name of another girl as he laid in the snow of the Institute with her. How could it not linger there inside her, forcing her to wonder, as she lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, if it didn't belong to another girl, a dead girl.

"Silence isn't the answer right now, Darrow. I already know what you are but I need to hear the truth from you," she said sadly before she left him alone in the training room. Darrow frowned in confusion as he wondered what she meant. The sound of her feet faded and the Mozart she'd turned on when she came in disappeared. Acting quickly, Darrow chased after her, reaching her before she found the door to the hall. He grabbed her wrist, but she shook him off.

"I know why you do this," she said. "Why you try to pull me back even as you push me away." She balled her fist. "But if I'm willing to turn my back on everything I was taught for you, the least you can do is be honest with me."

"What did you mean when you said you know what I really am?" Darrow inquired, confused as she reached into her pocket and the pop of a jamField activating sounded in his ears.

"You know what I mean," she replied. After a moment, her frown softened into a sad smile. "Even before the carving you were still beautiful." The color drained from Darrow's face as it finally hit him what she was getting at. She knows, he thought to himself, terrified out of his mind about what she might do next.

"How long have you known?" he asked, tears welling up in his eyes as he fought to keep himself from breaking down.

"The puzzle pieces had been burrowing in the back of my mind ever since I forged Shiro's credentials," she answered. "I didn't manage to put the pieces together until I was on my way back from Pliny's ambush. At first I was rattled, and angry about being deceived. But after I had some time to think about everything, I can understand why you've been so evasive and contradictory. It can't have been easy having to protect your secret. And I want you to know that this doesn't change a thing. No matter what Color you are, I am still here. You won't have to walk this path alone. Even if it means severing all ties with my father, I am not leaving your side."

Finally, Darrow couldn't take it anymore and broke down in tears, burying his face in Mustang's soft golden hair as a gargantuan weight was finally lifted from his chest. Between Sevro, Roque, and Quinn, the loyalty his friends had towards him had shattered all his fears and expectations about how they would react when they finally learned the truth. When he had first begun his education at The Institute, he was expecting to lie to everyone around him to further the Sons of Ares' goals, and for them all to turn on him when the truth came out. He had never expected to fall in love with the daughter of the man who'd killed his wife. He'd never expected to care about the friends he was supposed to manipulate. He hadn't expected almost every one of them to choose him over their own culture.

"I never expected to care," Darrow managed to say once the tears finally stopped flowing. "I was convinced that every Gold was raised to be as cold as your father, and that no Gold would ever be willing to change. But then you showed me how wrong I was." With the barrier of his secrets stripped away, Darrow decided that it would be better to tell Mustang how he felt with actions, rather than words. So he disentangled his face from her hair, gently nudged her chin upwards with his finger, and gave her a gentle but emotional kiss that said everything that needed to be said. As he pulled away, Mustang kissed him back, and together they headed back to the bedroom.

They didn't have sex together, since Mustang didn't want to sit out from the upcoming battle to take back Mars because he'd accidentally gotten her pregnant. They nevertheless spent the night in Darrow's bed together, talking well into the early hours of the morning about Darrow's real origins. He told her stories about his time as a Helldiver in the mines. About his father's death, and how his Uncle Narol had faked his death against his will and delivered him to the Sons of Ares. He confided in Mustang about how uncertain he had been after two years without contact from them, only for Harmony's splinter faction to try to manipulate him into bombing the gala with the revelation that Eo had been pregnant when she died. He talked about growing up beneath the surface, ignorant of the political power plays of The Society. But as Darrow finally drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but feel a surge of contentment. No matter what the future held, he had friends willing to fight beside him. After two years stumbling around in the dark with no contact from the Sons of Ares, he wasn't alone anymore.

Yay for Andromedustang fluff! Someone's got to come up with a shorter name for that pairing because it's really hard. Their names aren't as easy to mash up for a ship name like Sevictra or Roquinn. Now that almost everyone in the core cast knows the truth about Darrow, this is where a lot of everyone's interactions are going to start diverging from canon. Next chapter is going to be the start of a long stretch of chapters from Shiro's perspective, with one Darrow chapter thrown in towards the end of the story. I mean it this time.

Terminology:

Bronzie: Derogatory term for Golds who are seen as genetically inferior.