Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, or Rise of the Guardians. This is purely fictional and meant to indulge my inner Fangirl.
"I thought this might happen."
Lance whirls around. His breath catches in his throat, turning into a misplaced hiccup as his chest is locked into place. The hand around his staff clenches uselessly, but he doesn't have the right mind to attack. His thoughts are scattered by the wind he trusted so much and he doesn't know what to do at the sight that meets him. The cold had felt like a balm earlier, but now it was keeping him trapped as he was met with the ambrosia gaze of Pitch Black, or Lotor, the Prince of Darkness.
Lotor grins at him, sharp teeth gleaming, and he seems to look even more horrific and his lilac skin looks ethereal, flanked by an expanse of icy nothing at all sides. Slick white hair tumbles down his back in glossy waves, stopping just after his shoulders, and it glints like wet ash, makes Lance's hair stand on end and his mouth turn into cotton. Like the rest of him, Lotor's cloak billows and flickers, despite no wind blowing against it, like the very shadows he controlled. His lips were curled back in a tantalizing smirk, mockery and mirth mixing and radiating from his being the same way the sun projected heat.
He's staring at Lance now, amber eyes focused on the winter spirit, and something flickers in the pits of them. Lance tries very, very hard not to shudder in terror; his fear is only giving Lotor power.
"They never believed in you, Lance," Lotor says as he slips a bit closer, movements liquid and graceful. His voice is velvet smooth and so very sure- it makes Lance falter. His voice is surer than Shiro's, more confident than the Guardian's leaders'; it's a strange thing to hear and it makes Lance stop as Lotor continues. "Not once. Not even enough for a little fun. I tried to show you, Lance. Tried to make you believe. But I understand."
He understands? Lance is supposed to be believed in! He's supposed to be a Guardian! He's supposed to- Lance's being kicks into overdrive at Lotor's words. It blossoms like an explosion would, well, explode, and Lance sends a sharp spray of ice hurtling towards Lotor's chest. "You understand nothing!"
Lotor sidesteps the sloppy attack easily, advancing slowly, like a lion stalking his pray. The smirk is gone, a snarling sneer taking the place of the smooth expression, and Lance finds himself taking a step back at the pure rage that shines in Lotor's eyes. Lance can't hide his fear now; he's terrified.
"No? I don't know what it's like to be cast out? I don't know what it's like to be ignored? To not be believed in? To long for a family your Woman in the Moon destroyed!" Lotor is screaming the last sentence, his voice primal and growling instead of smooth velvet. He sounds like he swallowed gravel and then heaved it back up. It's a heavy tone and makes the beast like qualities of Lotor stand out even more.
Lance doesn't have enough time to process any more as Lotor sends his own attack at Lance. He barely has enough time to jump into the air, wind holding him steady, before he's sending another icy blast of power back at the boogeyman, years of defending himself automatically catching up with him.
This strike, however, glances off of Lotor's arm, causing patterns of ice to fan out all over the sleeve of his tunic and climb up his bicep. It traces the black cloth easily, pressing into lilac skin underneath like needles, and the two stare at the wound in surprise as Lance can see the violet colored blood Lotor has dying the grey ice a sticky purple color. None of the guardian's had been able to land a solid hit in their earlier altercations with Lotor, even Keith's weird boomerang sword had been avoided gracefully, but now Lance was able to, not even half aware of where he was aiming no less. Ironically, the surprise the two shared wasn't that surprising.
Then, like a switch being flicked in both of their minds, the two spiral into a quick battle of ice and shadows. Lance's heart was thumping in his chest as he repeatedly aims at Lotor, trying to make another attack stick, trying to survive, trying to win. Ice collides with shadow and both are sent tumbling backwards as their respective domains erupt around them in a dizzying shower of light and dark.
Lance is breathing heavily as everything settles, turning every which way to find Lotor, to protect himself from any attacks. Panic fizzles in his chest when he can't find the lilac man.
"All those years in the shadows I thought, no one else knows what this feels like."
Lotor's voice sounds smooth and silky, a far cry from his earlier tone just before the fight. There's compassion hiding in the creases of it as it folds around Lance's ears, muffling any sound but Lotor's voice.
"But now I see I was wrong."
"Where are you!" Lance calls, angry and scared and tired. Lotor's voice feels like it's coming from everywhere at once, rushing at Lance and flooding him with a smoothness that isn't natural. "C'mon, Lotor! Fight me and get this over with!"
"Behind you, Lance."
Lance almost gets whiplash from how fast he turns. Like clockwork, Lotor is standing there. His sleeve looks wet with melted ice and blood, but otherwise he seems totally nonplussed by the fight they had just participated in.
"What do you want with me, Lotor," Lance asks, the long awaiting question he really should have started off with.
Lotor just grins in return. Sharp fangs peak out from behind his lips and Lance has to, yet again resist the urge to take a step back. "I just want to tell you the truth, Lance. I just want to show you how wrong your beliefs in your guardians are. I want to tell you how this universe really started."
"What do you me-?"
"Long ago, when our world began," starts Lotor, interrupting Lance easily enough. "There was nothing but Darkness. Darkness is the same as being born, Lance; the same as waking up and falling asleep. Darkness is everywhere, we emerge from it and disappear into its arms when need be. It's everywhere and very, very lonely without company.
"So Light was born to be Darkness's companion. It was created to be the dearest and loveliest pal of Darkness, to be the best of friends with a monster. Thing was, with Light came colors, and with colors came belief. What was Light's first purpose became an old thought on the shelf as he reigned with self-imposed glory. His promise was forgotten.
"And the world became happy and beautiful with Light! So happy and so amazing that they forgot about what the darkness did. They forgot about the Darkness, general really. They turned his shadows into glass sculptures and his creations into their own masterpieces. As their forgetfulness continued, Darkness became angry, and, as he grew angry, he birthed me: Fear."
Lotor sneers the word, makes it seem like he hates the very taste of it in his mouth, but his lips twisted into a grin, and makes Lance's blood run colder than it already flows. "And with me, Darkness was able to plunge the world into its hold. Nightmares reigned and I was the one who led these armies of fear! For once, me and my father were the proud rulers of the world! Light was gone and we were here; we were believed in!" His expression was borderline euphoric. Pornographic even. His eyes glowed sickly against his skin but with his next words it turned into a growling snarl. "But with Light's death there came the Woman in the Moon, the last bit of Light's essence poured into her!
"We didn't think much of her at first," Lotor admitted, slowly, very slowly, advancing. "But stars soon followed her appearance. And as they collected around her, shining her father's fractured light, and giving her the strength to defy my father. She collected so much light she destroyed Darkness! Destroyed the one thing I loved and sent him into the one thing all spirits fear: Madness.
"And then I was left alone in the shadows. All those years in the shadows I thought, no one else knows what this feels like. To have your whole world shattered for no apparent reason. To be left alone because the Woman in the Moon depicted it so. But I was wrong, Lance. So very wrong." Lotor was in front of Lance now. The winter spirit could reach out and touch Lotor if he wished to, but he so very wished to back away.
Through Lotor's entire speech, Lance had been slowly realizing. While Lotor was the textbook character villain, his words held honesty he hadn't been showed by the other guardians. There weren't gaps or holes in his story, and it fit well with the animosity and cold shoulder the Woman in the Moon was likely to give him.
"We don't have to be alone, Lance," Lotor appealed softly. His voice was quiet and calm, like talking to a wounded animal likely to run.
"Wha- What do you mean?"
"I believe in you. And I know children will too." Lotor took two, three steps back. His arms swept out and gestured to the hulking form of ice and shadows Lance had tried so hard to ignore. It was a spiral, a mixture of ice and snow and nightmare sand and shadows, which made Lance's breath catch in his throat. It twisted like the curve of a ribbon before splitting into sharp prongs at the top. It looked positively horrific and it made bile rise in Lance's throat. "Yes! Look at what we can do! What goes together better than cold and dark?"
Lance turns his gaze back to a beaming Lotor. Any kind thought or gentle thing Lance had towards Lotor had vanished at the sight of the man's glee at that… that monstrosity. Lotor is looking at Lance with such sure and hopeful glee that it takes almost a moment for Lotor to register Lance's expression. His tone almost seems a plea now. "We can make them believe. We'll give them a world where everything, everything is…"
"Pitch Black." Lance finishes for him, using Lotor's official title, with his eyes narrowed.
"And Jack Frost too. They'll believe in both of us." Lotor is floundering now, begging almost. It makes Lance's next words surer on his tongue when he realizes that Lotor's only great threat, Lance himself, is turning down the offer of partnership.
"No. They'll fear both of us. Hide and cower. I don't want that. I'm not fear."