Lance peered at Lotor down the bridge of his nose, his neck pushed back at an uncomfortable angle. The guy simply oozed confidence, holding Lance securely in place with the barest of efforts.
"This isn't how you ask for help," Lance said, his Adams apple straining against his distorted throat.
"We both know you paladins would never agree to help me: we have too much ill history." Lotor's smirk never shifted from his face: as he spoke it curled around his words, taunting and infuriating in its surety. "You would never trust me enough to allow me to get so close."
"Definitely not." The sarcasm in Lance's voice astounded him: he was in a dire situation, and yet he could not reign in his exasperated tone. "Especially not after you saved our butts destroying Haggar's battle cruiser and, in doing so, saved not only the paladins or the rebel fighters, but also the better part of a solar system. You're right, we would never have allowed the meeting that you asked for."
Sometimes Lance wished he could physically zip his mouth shut so he could stop himself talking when he was angry. Lotor's brow furrowed and he backed away, letting Lance's head snap back into place painfully.
"You may have allowed a meeting, but let's be honest here." Lotor fiddled with a device on his arm and in an instant his personal particle barrier was back up and running. "It would have been a formal meeting where we agreed we weren't eachothers problems anymore: we both have bigger fish to fry now. But it would be naïve to think it would go any further than that. There would be no helping eachother, no sharing information. We cannot trust one another, it's just not possible. I would not get what I want, and it would simply waste my time attempting to convince you."
Anger boiled in Lance's stomach, "So why bother suggesting a meeting in the first place then!?"
He crossed his arms, still hiding behind his barrier. Lance kept his shield held high: He doubted Lotor would try to hurt him after all this, but he refused to leave himself vulnerable while Lotor addressed him through an impenetrable barrier. He felt this evened the scales slightly.
"I mainly wanted a chance to talk to the princess, in private," he said.
Lance snorted a laugh, "You really thought we would leave you alone with her?"
Lotor scowled, his brow furrowing. "Of course not. But I was to take any opportunity presented." He paused for a moment, weighing up the sight before him. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he touched his wrist and the barrier disappeared. Leaning back, Lotor pressed his back to the wall behind him and crossed his arms. "Must we talk with such hostility?" He said, leisurely. "Please, lower your shield."
It was a request laced with the weight of an order. Lance felt his arm quiver for a second as his instinct to follow authority kicked in. But he remained in his defensive position.
Lotor sighed. "I knew I most likely wouldn't get anywhere near the princess. I knew that such an opportunity would be nothing short of a miracle. But that wasn't my only reason for wanting to visit the castle of lions. My generals had delivered some very interesting information to me that I wanted to fact check."
Despite himself, Lance felt his interest pique. What had he heard, what had the generals picked up on during their brief interaction?
"Information concerning you, blue paladin."
Lotor grew silent, watching for Lance' s reaction.
There wasn't much of one. Lance felt the cogs in his brain grind to a halt under this surprising information. What had Lotor heard about him? He couldn't think of any secret he held: Lance was pretty much an open book.
"What do you mean?" He heard himself ask.
Lotor continued to smirk, but said no more.
They stayed in tense silence for a few moments before Lance realised that if he wanted to hear anything else he was going to have to play Lotor's game. He deactivated his shield and straightened up, keeping his back to the wall.
He held his hand out, "My bayard, if you would."
Lotor seemed pleased with his reaction, extending the his arm in a similar fashion to that of an olive branch. Lance took back the bayard and returned it to his suit, continuing to play nice. He knelt down and grabbed Keith's blade for good measure.
"Shall we head upstairs?" Lotor asked. "The ship is on autopilot, but I really should be overseeing our journey."
Lance gave a tense nod. Heading to the control room was a good plan: with his weapons returned and Lotor's metaphorical, and physical, guard lowered he had a chance to turn the tide. Overpower Lotor, take control of the ship, somehow contact the team. Should be easy.
The two walked up to the control room, Lance lagging behind, always keeping Lotor in his line of sight. The galran prince was awfully trustworthy, considering he had turned his back on an armed prisoner. Lance recognised the obvious opening and did not take it: Lotor wasn't stupid. If Lance tried to act here he had no doubt that he would lose.
He had no idea what would happen if he lost, and he didn't fancy finding out.
Once he realised that he wasn't going to get an answer, Keith had diminished from screaming and swearing in Lance's ear to intermittent, frustrated groans. Lance guessed the guy was scouring space in Red, looking for a tiny blue spec on his monitor.
Lance felt bad: he knew he had to get out of here as quickly as possible, before the team started worrying.
Had Keith told them yet? Or was he waiting to see if he could track Lance down first?
Lance stifled a sigh. This had been a particularly difficult day: between getting trapped on Naxzella, almost being blown up, trying to save Keith, thinking he had killed Keith, getting captured by Lotor…
He needed a facemask, and a nap. In that order.
They entered the control room, and Lance had one thought.
What was the Galra's fascination with the colour purple?
He was quickly starting to miss the comforting blue glow of the Altean ship. Though why aliens required coloured light for everything he couldn't understand: why not just use good old white light like back on Earth?
Lotor sat down in the centre chair, double checking the ships progress before swivelling back to face Lance.
The only way the guy could look more like a supervillain was if he had a cat in his lap.
Lance was getting frustrated: he was left to stand in the centre of the room with his arms crossed, and Lotor was content to remain silent. Not even offer Lance a seat. Those prince-like manners had quickly disappeared.
He couldn't take the silence: this silly little game was working, and Lance was thoroughly irritated. "You said you had some information concerning me?"
"You really don't know." Lotor shook his head, almost talking to himself in disbelief.
Lance didn't say anything, attempting to stare Lotor down.
Lotor chuckled. "My generals reported a strange energy emanating from you. A normal human, they assured me. There was nothing remarkable about you, except that energy. What they were suggesting…it was impossible."
The stare down between the two of them was making Lance very uncomfortable. Lotor was scrutinising every inch of him as he spoke, still revealing no answers.
"So I thought I should meet you for myself, confirm whatever it was they were trying to say. I would travel to the Castle of Lions under the guise of a white flag, and get close enough to you to find out if I sensed what they did."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lance said honestly, an eyebrow arching.
"Exactly." Lotor shifted in his seat, leaning forwards and resting his arms on his legs. "Either the paladins were keeping it a secret, or you all really had no idea, Which was difficult to accept, since my generals had sensed it within moments of being in your presence. How had your entire team missed what they had gleaned so quickly?"
"Or perhaps your generals were wrong," Lance bit.
Lotor nodded slowly, "Very plausible. Hence why I wanted to meet you, and decide for myself."
"But instead of setting up a meeting, you decided the best course of action would be to abduct me?"
"This wasn't originally part of the plan." Lotor sat back in his seat and swivelled back to the control screens, updating their progress. Lance walked forwards, refusing to have his back turned on him.
"There's nothing special about me."
"You humans are so funny," Lotor chuckled. "I never said you were special, just that there was something odd about you."
Okay, that smarted his ego just a tad. "Well there isn't anything odd about me, as you can clearly see," Lance snapped. He threw his arms out wide so Lotor could get a decent look. "So sorry for wasting your time, you can let me out here. I have a buddy who can give me a ride home."
Lotor turned his head to him, abandoning the control screens he had so intently been staring at. "I saw what you did," he announced calmly.
Somehow Lance continued to get even more confused.
"I was going to calmly observe you when we signed some treaty of peace," Lotor continued, "And decide for myself. Then I saw you appear on the battlefield. Felt your presence burst through space itself and appear from a wormhole." He cocked his head, narrowed his eyes, "Allura didn't open that wormhole, did she?"
Lance's voice stuttered in his throat. "I- I-"
"And in a lion, no less. I was astounded, if I'm being honest. At first I considered that the Castle had opened a wormhole for you." Lance tried not to squirm as Lotor's piercing gaze continued to probe him like a specimen in a lab. "But then I remembered all that silly propaganda the rebels had been releasing: Princess Allura is now a paladin. And it occurred to me, how could she open a wormhole for you if she was piloting the blue lion? She was nowhere near the Castle, had no access to the teladuv." Lotor stood, as though he couldn't bear to be still as he connected the dots. "What you did, it was not possible."
Lance backed away, his hand reaching down in preparation for needing his bayard.
"How did you get there, blue paladin?" Lotor pressed.
"I don't know!"
"How did you skip so far across space in one of the Voltron lions? How did you summon a wormhole, all on your own?"
"Why don't you tell me?" Lance's voice was hot in his throat, his voice swelling with frustration. "Since you apparently have all the answers - just tell me!"
Lotor shook his head, "It's not possible, and yet you did it. And I found myself believing the wild tales my generals had told me. An impossible paladin."
In a knee jerk reaction Lance was gripping his bayard fiercely. He willed it to not enter its rifle setting, at least not yet: he knew he couldn't beat Lotor with odds as they were. But holding it brought him a moment of calm, helped to ground him in the storm of confusion Lotor was conjuring.
Lotor's eyes flicked to the possible weapon for a second. "It was then that the meeting became essential. I needed to study you up close. But, like Allura, you would not be easy to get close to. You paladins, you all watch each others backs. It was going to take a lot of planning."
"And then suddenly, there you were. Floating out in empty space, leaving your lion behind in some strange quest for a trinket. No lion to get past, no Voltron. Just one, single team mate to distract. I'm not one to pass up on such an opportunity."
Lotor sat back down, seemingly thinking he was done explaining. He focused in on the screens. "Wont be much longer," He mumbled.
Lance was frozen. He didn't know what to do, what to make of what Lotor had said. Lotor's speech held weight, yet Lance still didn't understand any of it. He hadn't explained anything. The urge to form his rifle, to point it and force answers out of Lotor, was overwhelming. Lance's head was swimming.
"What is it about me?" Lance said quietly, "In your mind, what can I do that will help you."
Lance wouldn't help him, he knew that in himself. But he would be damned if he went through this experience and Lotor still retained all the answers.
The smirk returned. "Tell me about your parents."
