He had known that the Paladins would attempt to retrieve Blue- excuse him, Lance eventually. It was a trademark of the Paladins of Voltron; on of their most predictable weaknesses. But he had never expected them to succeed so quickly. Prince Lotor was never one to be unprepared, and had set up decoys to slow them down. More than one, and each one intricately designed to alert him when they attempted to intercept them. But now? How had they known to come to the center of his empire, and how had they gotten in without being noticed? There had to be a traitor amongst his ranks, but who? As Prince Lotor crossed the doorway, the two Paladins attempting to move past the twisted doorframe of the maintenance closet, he calmed himself. These questions could be answered later; right now his priority was retrieving his prize. His blue, his sky, his moon. His pretty, pretty Lance.

Unlike his father, he would achieve his dreams. And he would do it all on his own.

OoOoOoO

Lance stared at his captor. His eyes, a familiar glowing yellow, met first his, then Keith's.

Prince Lotor grinned. "Did you really assume that you were skilled enough to intrude upon my castle unnoticed?" Prince Lotor took a step forward, and Keith tensed beside him. Lance wished he had his Bayard, so that he could shoot the bastard's smug smile off of his face. Then Keith wouldn't have to stand, ready to fight beside him, while Lance waited helplessly on the sidelines.

"It wasn't hard." Keith bluffed, a mirroring smile plastered on his face. It looked fake as hell, but by the way Prince Lotor's smile faltered, Lance could tell that he believed it. "It's not like the Galra are much of a challenge without Zarkon around."

Prince Lotor growled, and Lance couldn't help but think that the sound was more befitting of an angry beast, than a royal warrior. He drew a sword from the folds of his cloak. He held it in front of him and the handle lit up. A blade extended from it, dark purple with an eerie glow. It was at only a few inches longer than Keith's sword, but whereas Keith's was all clean lines and angles, Lotor's was jagged and curved. The technology was probably similar to that of the Bayards, but Hunk or Pidge would have been better at confirming it than Lance was. Lance knew where all the banter was heading and stepped out of the way, back to the janitor's closet.

Prince Lotor charged. Keith waited in defense, and stepped to the side as Lotor tried to hit his stomach. He turned and thrusted again, only for his sword to meet Keith's with a loud clang. Keith pushed him back, then slashed again, his blade aiming for his jugular. Prince Lotor dodged it and took a step back.

"He's mine, Red Paladin. You shall not have him."

Keith gritted his teeth and aimed for Lotor's shoulder. The Galran prince was slow to get out of the way, allowing the sword to draw blood on the far side of his arm. Lance hoped that it would slow him down, but did the opposite. Lotor pushed Keith back with a flurry of blows that Keith could barely keep up with. The Red Paladin gritted his teeth and pushed back. Their swords slid over one another, creating sparks that fell to the floor to be trampled underfoot.

"You don't own him, Lotor. No one does."

Ugh. Keith sucked at one liners. Lance could've done better; something more dramatic like….like….something else more dramatic! He watched as Keith got the upper hand again, and their fight continued. This would probably take a while.

Lance turned away. Watching Keith and Lotor fight wasn't going to help either of them. Considering how many hidden droids had been around when Lotor took him around the ship, it was more than likely that the seemingly deserted room was surrounded by droids just waiting for Lotor's call. Lance had to figure out how to stall them or get rid of them or something, or else Mullet-head wouldn't make it, even if he did win the fight.

Behind Lotor and Keith was a door. The one that Lotor had come through. It was the only exit, save for the vent in the adjoining janitor's closet. The doorway was small; only a few Galra could get through at a time. It could've been to their advantage, if Lance had a damn weapon. Keith couldn't hold that many at once by himself, no matter how good he thought he was.

Okay, good. So Lance had at least some sort of a plan figured out. Find a weapon.

He slid back through the door of the janitor's closet. His clothes caught on the twisted metal, and he yanked it, tearing through the remains of his shirt. He slid in and fell to the floor, some hand-saw looking tool cutting his shoulder as he stood up. Lance surveyed the room. What could be of use? The toolbox that Keith had raided to seal the door was still open, probably where the hand-saw thing came from. There were plenty of tools in there. And there was a broom laid prone in the corner of the room. Its metal pole was long; if he messed up, he'd have plenty to work with. It could probably work as a makeshift weapon, if he figured out how to use the tools correctly.

Behind him, swords clashed. He could hear the familiar sound of Keith's frantic breathing; he had memorized it, unknowingly of course, during those drawn out fights in Voltron, and in late night sparring sessions. He could hear Lotor; his grunts of effort unfamiliar to his ears. Lance refused to turn around. If he did, he might notice that Keith was losing, that the boy that he considered the best with blade to blade fighting, the Lance knew was better than him, no matter how much Lance pretended he wasn't. And if he noticed that, he might just give up then, to spare Keith from having to go through all of this for him. So Lance didn't look, just in case Keith was losing, and focused on making his weapon, even when Prince Lotor screamed his name.

OoOoOoOoO

Keith was at home here, in the midst of a fight. The sounds of metal clashing and the smell of sweat were as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. So why was it so hard to keep up the upper hand? It was only one Galra (if that's all Lotor really was. He looked too...human to be pure blooded.), and he had fought plenty one on one (nevermind the fact that it usually took two Paladins working together to actually beat 'em.). So why couldn't he just finish the damn fight so that he and Lance could leave?

Lance had disappeared back into the janitor's closet a little while after they had started fighting. Although they both had noticed, Keith hadn't been able to keep an eye on him, or contact him. Lance could be attempting to find Shiro, or lost in the vents, or just sitting there waiting for all that he knew. The lack of knowledge of Lance's whereabouts had made both of them desperate to end it. Keith knew that he was getting sloppy. Each hit was not as precisely aimed as it had been before, each parry more and more half-assed. Keith had stamina, yeah, but it wasn't gonna last him forever. Lotor was too distracted to regain his upper hand; They were stalemating, and Keith knew that if he didn't defeat him soon, that he would lose. After all, Lotor had a whole army at his fingertips. Keith had a sword and a semi-injured Lance.

Prince Lotor smiled as his sword cut through the black mesh covering his side. It was a thin cut, but Keith could feel blood seep through the remaining fabric anyways. It burned.

"Do you feel that?" Lotor sneered. "It's going to eat at you until you are nothing. Just like the knowledge that Lance is mine, and will never be yours."

Keith didn't answer. Talking was a waste of breath that he would need to block any further attacks, and to initiate some of his own. Prince Lotor was obviously skilled in using the sword, and probably grew up learning how to use one. If he was going to make the mistake of talking, he obviously wasn't scared of losing. Which confirmed that Prince Lotor had back-up nearby.

Keith blocked another jab and stepped back, inviting Lotor to overstep in his next attack and lose his balance. Keith elbowed his back, knocking him to the ground. As Keith prepared to stab downwards, to end this fight, Lotor laughed. The door behind him opened, and he could hear the sound of marching feet entering the room. He didn't take his eyes off of the Prince, but he knew that there were at least ten droids there, maybe more. Yup. There's the back-up.

Lotor sat put his arms behind his head as he laid there beneath Keith's blade. "You've lost."

Behind Lotor, Lance stepped out of the janitor's closet. His shirt was ripped, and a small line of red dripped from his shoulder onto the remains of his shirt. "And you think you've won?" He taunted.

Lotor tensed and tried to turn to look behind him. Keith pressed the tip of his sword onto his chest, where the heart would be on a human. It must've been a vulnerability point for Galrans too, as Lotor paused mid-movement. "Of course I have. The Red Paladin is surrounded, and you are weaponless. There is nowhere for you to go."

Lance leaned against the doorframe. "True, true. I guess I should just turn myself over then, huh? No point in anyone getting themselves hurt, right?"

Keith frowned. What the hell was Lance doing? Was this some kind of ploy? If it was, it was a stupid ass one.

"Keith," Lance called. Keith looked up cautiously; if Lotor tried anything, he wouldn't be able to prepare for it as easily. "Let him go."

Beneath him, Lotor grinned.

"Wha- What?! Why?!" Keith sputtered.

"He won." Lance replied.

There had to be a plan, right? They hadn't gone through all of this shit to find Lance, only to have to give him up again. Lance wouldn't do that. He inhaled deeply. He had to trust him. Lance wasn't half as stupid as he acted.

Keith lifted his sword and stepped back.

Lotor stood up gracefully, or as graceful as one could be when injured. Lance watched with feigned calmness as he crossed the distance between them. Lotor wrapped his arms around Lance in a tight embrace, but even from here, Keith could see the way Lance stiffened in his grasp.

And then something unexpected happened.

From behind the bent doorway, Lance grabbed a jagged spear of metal, barely bigger than his hand. In one smooth movement, he wrapped his arms around Lotor, and drove the metal deep into his back. The Galran prince cried out, and the droids behind him lifted their guns. Keith could feel the heat of them through his armor.

Lance smiled at the droids. "I hear Prince Lotor is all you got left. Funny how unprepared you guys are to lose a leader. Seems like it's pretty easy to get rid of them." He pulled the spear from Lotor's back. Thick, red blood spilled from the wound. "So I'll make you a deal. You can have him, damaged and all. All we want is for you to drop your weapons and go to the opposite side of the room. Easy right?"

For a moment, it looked like Lance's deal wasn't going to work. The droids didn't speak or move to show that they had even heard him. And then a gun clattered to the floor. Keith turned, and watched, confused as all fifteen droids dropped their weapons and walked to the opposite side of the room. Lance turned around and backed up, dragging the dead weight of the wounded prince with him until he stumbled into Keith. He dropped the Prince onto the floor and brushed off his hands.

"Don't go." Prince Lotor wheezed, wrapping his hand around Lance's ankle. "Or else I will destroy your planet. I'll kill your friends and family without a second thought. I'll-"

Lance kicked him, and Lotor released his grasp. "Lead the way." Lance whispered.

Keith grabbed his hand, and they ran, away from Prince Lotor, away from the droids and away from the nightmare that had become their lives for the past month.

OoOoOoOoO

Keith snored. Like legit, snored. None of that cute, semi-quiet stuff, but a loud, lawn-mower like snore. It wasn't like Lance couldn't sleep through it. He had shared a room with three brothers for years; he could handle noise. But still, Lance couldn't quite fall asleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he went back to that white room with the fluffy rug and huge bed. He honestly hadn't thought about the purpose of the giant bed while he was there; it was only after coming back to the castle, and figuring out what exactly beds were good for, that he realised Lotor's intent. Why else would the bed be so massively huge?And then there was the white foods. Lance couldn't eat anything white without gagging, or even look at the healing suits without feeling sick. Even at the castle, galaxies away from him, Lance couldn't stop being reminded about Lotor.

Lance rolled onto his side. Keith continued to snore, lost in the throes of sleep. His shirt had ridden up, revealing his newest scar. It was an unnatural purple-grey color, that stood out from his alabaster skin. Lance traced it with his finger. By all means, the Cryo-pods should've been able to heal it without leaving a trace; it had made Lance look brand new, except for his chipped tooth.

"Sorry." Lance whispered, the words broken and thick from sleep. Keith had gotten hurt because of him. It wasn't fair that he had to carry scars because of it too.

He remembered how Lotor had held him, had forced him into embraces and silk sheets and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Shiro had told him what this was called: a panic attack. He needed to calm down, to count to five, but he couldn't, his mind was racing too fast and all he could do was try to drag in air as quietly as he could.

Keith sat up beside him, and slipped his hand into Lance's. "It's okay. Think of five things you can see, Lance. I know you can do it."

Lance stared at him and tried to think. He could see Keith's eyes, his hair, his pale, scarred skin. He trailed his eyes over his shirt, baggy and falling off of his shoulders. He could see the beginnings of a scar across his shoulder. That was five, right? Somewhere around that number. His breathing started to even out, and his chest started to unclench.

"Four things you can hear. Come on, Lance. You can do it." Keith said, his voice reassuringly calm.

His voice, his breathing, the beating of his heart. Lance could hear it all, too loud in his head. The thrum of the engines, dull and quiet beneath them.

Lance's chest released, and he could remember how to move again. He scooted into Keith's lap, wrapped his arms around his waist.

He took a ragged breath. "How'd you know what to do?"

Keith hesitated to put his hands anywhere. He was never a touchy-feely kind of person, even after months of this. He settled for running his hands through Lance's hair. "Shiro had anxiety attacks, even before Kerberos. I, um, figured out how to help him."

Lance lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to his bottom lip.

"You know, I told Lotor that I was falling in love with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Lance bit his lip. "I think I've landed though."

Keith's brow furrowed in confusion. Sometimes he was really dense. Like with the chant that he still hadn't figured out. "I mean I'm in love with you Keith!" Lance blurted.

"Oh." Keith blinked. "Oh!" He said again in recognition. "I, uh, return your feelings. I mean, I-"

Lance interrupted him with another kiss. He could taste the sleep in his breath, as he parted his lips gently. He pulled away. "It's okay. I know you love me too."

Author's note: I'm so happy to have finished this arc. It took forever, but I'm really happy with how it turned out. If you've got any prompts for me, I'll happily write them. Otherwise, thanks for the support y'all.