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Hope: The Truest Treasure

Eight

"Coran, are you with the king?" Lance near startled as Allura spoke as they exited the forest, cutting through the thick grasses back towards the castle. It was just him, Shiro and Allura and the two were flanking him like they were his bodyguards that both comforted and unnerved him.

He would have liked for Zebra's calming presence too or Stampede's quiet strength and size at his side, but it was dangerous to offer the Toads more targets and Lance did not think Allura's announcement was going to go over well.

He almost wished he wasn't going either, but it was something he needed to do. He needed to see this king, this person, who had so easily enslaved and tortured and killed others without remorse, but had the gall to seek out Voltron's help.

Who had put a target on his head and had anyone other than Voltron responded to the call (perhaps with a promise of payment later for if the amount was high enough it was possible someone would take up the job) Lance knew he would not be standing here now.

He may have been devoiced but he had not been silenced. Now the king was going to face justice. And he would see it firsthand.

Coran must have responded in the affirmative because Allura pursed her lips. "Tell him we will be there shortly with an update. And Coran?" her voice grew quieter. "Do not react to this, but… we found Lance. He's alive, Coran. He's here." Lance couldn't hear Coran's response but Allura's lips turned up, a soft, gentle thing, and she hummed a confirmation noise.

They reached the outskirts of the village then, lights still dark, which Shiro had explained was part of their plan to catch L and everyone was under strict orders from the king and Voltron to not emerge until an all clear was given.

Lance had a feeling Voltron would not be giving any such signal.

"Ready?" Shiro asked him as they paused at the base of the winding path. To the right Lance knew were the two guards he'd killed earlier and he kept his gaze firmly forward to the still darkened castle.

He wasn't sure if there was ever being ready for this but he nodded regardless.

"Stay close," Allura cautioned and Lance had no plans to do anything but.

He could feel his pulse beginning to race as Shiro pushed open the front door to the castle, lush tapestries and intricate stone and jewel work lining the hall. Sitting at the end of the long entrance way he could make out the silhouette of a large throne where there were a few pale lights glimmering, illuminating a large Toad and…

And Coran, who despite Allura's warning to not react had visible tear streaks on his face even at this distance and his jewel-gaze caught Lance's over Allura's shoulder with a muffled choking sound.

"Well?" intoned the Toad and Lance's attention was drawn back to him against his will. "Did you kill L?"

He was nothing impressive. Same size as the other Toads, skin a puce green. He wore a short cape like the high-level guards and the only real difference was a crown dripping with jewels that sat between his broccoli-like ears.

His voice though, although the same croaking rumble, felt… colder. Lance shivered. This was the alien who had bought him, bought all of them, and condemned them to a life of slavery and pain all so he could live in the lap of luxury.

"No, we did not," Allura's voice rang clear and Lance felt comforted by it. "We brought him here instead." She placed a gentle hand on Lance's back and steered him forward as they came to rest a distance from the dais.

The king's eyes bugged and had it been any other situation Lance might have laughed at the comical expression.

"Wh-why have you not killed him?" he sputtered, rising from his throne and pointing a pudgy finger in their direction.

"Because he does not deserve death," Shiro said, deceptively calm. "And you," his gaze hardened, "are not worthy of such a quick end."

"Wh-what are you saying? Bl-Black Paladin, I—"

"Quiet," Shiro snapped and the king's mouth snapped shut with an audible gulp.

"You have deceived us, false king," Allura spoke, voice dripping with ice. "The rebels you spoke of are not who you alluded to. They are slaves, abused and tortured, who escaped from your mines."

Sweat was shining on the king's face. "I—"

"They are victims who have done no wrong," Allura continued. "They are who Voltron will be saving today."

"He lies!" the king croaked. "He—"

"He may not speak thanks to you," Shiro snarled, "but he has told no lies."

"He—"

"He is one of us, false king," Allura growled. "He is a Paladin of Voltron and I trust him with my life."

Beneath the sweat the Toad paled.

"He… he… is… is what?"

"A Paladin of Voltron," Allura repeated. "And someone beyond dear to me and for whom I would do anything to protect. And that begins with you, false king."

Allura withdrew the blue bayard, a thin rapier that was no doubt stronger than it looked. Lance stared, both with awe and longing and despair.

"N-n-no," the king backed up, collapsing in his throne. "Pl-please, spare me!"

"We will not be taking your life," Allura said, stepping forward and eyes darkening and Lance shivered again. "No. You will carry on as you are; as the king of nothing."

With her words she brought the sword down and the king let out a terrified shriek, ducking. Allura though was not aiming for the Toad but the throne upon which he sat, slicing the top clean off and shattering the giant jewel embedded in it in a burst of white crystal.

"Live out the rest of our miserable life however you able," Shiro said harshly above the pattering of broken crystal striking the floor. "Explain to your people how your lies and greed have condemned them all."

"You can't do th-this," the king whimpered, huddled at the base of his destroyed throne. "You are Voltron. You must help me—"

"We help those deserving of it," Allura interrupted. "We have seen much in this universe, false king, and the Galra are not the only monsters that pollute it."

She turned her back on the cowering Toad, Coran moving to her side in a few long strides, and faced Shiro and Lance. "Come." A soft smile pulled up her lips. "Let us go home."

xxx

The next hour passed by in an absolute haze to the point Lance felt like he was in a dream. Lance remembered Coran embracing him once they were outside, a kiss pressed to the top of his head and a whispered "my boy," and tears anew had sprung to Lance's eyes.

They'd boarded the castle – gleaming halls and bright lights and it had felt so foreign and familiar all at once – and when it lifted off Lance had stumbled, body having forgotten what such a thing felt like and Shiro had coaxed him to sit down on the bridge in his old chair. Lance had hesitantly done so, shooting looks at Allura who was driving the castle, but she had met his eye and nodded without hesitation and so he had.

They'd landed the ship at the camp and Lance had gotten up, helping to load in the few possessions they wanted to take with them.

And all of the jewels.

Bag after bag had been dug up – and Hope was covered in mud but looking positively gleeful, smearing dirt all over Lance when she jumped up for a hug in both delight and slight fright of the giant Altean ship she had boarded – and secured in the cargo hold. Coran had made some note about exchanging them for the aliens to all have actual currency, but Lance had sort of tuned out at that point, aliens all around him blurring into shapes and sounds.

He still couldn't believe this was real.

It felt too surreal, even as he had sank down to the floor on the bridge with Hunk on one side, Pidge on the other and Hope curled up on his lap. It couldn't have been real when Keith pressed a mug of something hot and spicy and delicious into his hands to drink, when Zebra had come over and pulled him into her arms and Dorito wrapped them up in his wings and Lemur butted in for Hope to curl her fingers into his soft fur.

It was too good to be true.

"Sleep," Allura had murmured to him, bringing blankets over to their group and tucking one about him and Hope, pressing a kiss of her own to the top of his head that had his cheeks darkening. "You are exhausted. We will speak more when you awaken."

Lance was grateful no one had suggested he go to his room. He didn't want to be alone right now; he hadn't been alone, not truly, in so long, and he drew comfort from the press of warm bodies snuggled all about him.

He'd drifted off, Hunk's soft snores a soothing lullaby in his ear, and dreamed only of bright smiles and a brighter future.

xxx

Lance awoke to the sensation of someone carding hands through his hair and a soft beeping. He frowned at the latter one as it grew louder and he felt his head being turned.

Sleep-crusted eyes blinked open, making out the forms of Hunk next to him and Coran kneeling, a scanner in his hand the source of the beeping.

"Ah, sorry lad," Coran apologized. "I did not mean to wake you. Just taking a few preliminary scans. You can go back to sleep."

But the drowsiness was fading and Lance sat further up, noting that he'd been moved from the bridge and was in the main lounge of the castle. He was in grand company as it seemed all of the ex-slaves were there, sleeping in spots along the floor and on mismatched couches that had likely been procured from other unused lounges. He had no doubt Allura would have tried to offer them rooms to spread out, but they were a pack now. They stayed together.

Lance was on the floor but he was pressed up against the couch and above him Hope was sleeping, curled up with Amber.

Pidge had given him a larger datapad right before he'd succumbed to sleep and they'd moved it with him, resting just underneath his hand. He pulled it into his lap and scrawled out "scans?" and turned it around.

Coran hummed. "Yes. We communicated with the other aliens and determined there were no major injuries that would require a cryopod at this time and we thought we might try and take a look at this devoicing you mentioned." Coran's tone darkened on the word and Lance brought his eyes down to stare at the datapad.

"I was telling Coran a bit about debarking," Hunk said quietly, hand tightening on Lance's shoulder and pulling him flush to his side, Lance gratefully sinking his head against Hunk's softness and still relishing that Hunk was here. "The cords are normally removed completely and only in bad surgeries do they tend to remain partly in where they can fuse back. But… but I've heard some of you guys," Hunk's voice caught there, "making noises and I think… I think they might not have removed them. Not completely at least."

"I am using the humans as my base model to compare their own structure to yours," Coran said. "If what Number Two suspects it may be possible to restore your voice, to at least some degree. I don't wish to get your hopes up lad, but…"

The fact there was even a slim chance was more than Lance could ever have imagined and even if it didn't work, the fact they had tried meant so much already.

"It'll take me a bit to go over the scans," Coran said, giving Lance's knee a squeeze before rising. "In the meantime, why don't you grab a bite to eat or the showers? I freshly laundered some of your clothes too and they are ready when you are."

Clothes.

Real clothes.

Lance glanced down at the tunic he'd cut and sapped together, hidden beneath the light cloak and beneath that the pants from the prisons, although patched with enough fabric scraps they resembled more of a child's craft project than clothing.

He nodded his thanks with a soft smile and with a "cheerio," Coran turned to likely head to the infirmary.

"I made a big pot of oatmeal," Hunk offered when Lance made no motion to move yet, "raisins and cinnamon and everything too." His hand moved down Lance's shoulder to grip at his arm, which despite the muscle was even thinner than it already had been. "Everyone seems to like it so far."

Lance rolled his eyes at that and scrawled, "b/c your cooking is amazing," to his datapad and added a little heart before he turned it around. It took longer than he'd like but Hunk waited patiently, not rushing him at all, and when he saw it he chuckled.

"Thanks, hermano," and Lance butted his face up against Hunk's arm at the address, warmth tingling in him. "I… I'm gonna make all your favorites, all right? We found a sort of chili pepper I know you'll like and… and…"

Hunk broke off with a noisy sob and Lance found himself being pulled nearly into Hunk's lap as Hunk buried his face into Lance's shoulder, mumbled apologies sounding above his own shaking and cries.

"I can't believe you're here," Hunk whispered. "L-Lance. We thought you were dead. We looked and looked and l-looked…" Red-rimmed honey eyes pulled themselves free. "We never stopped. But, eventually, we…"

Lance inclined his head. He understood. The universe needed Voltron. It was the same as Pidge looking for her dad and brother; as much as they would want to they couldn't stop everything to do so when so many were counting on them.

"I tried to go on my own," Hunk said, cuddling Lance back against his chest. "We were down Voltron anyway and… and you had to be alive. I never gave up hope. But then the Blue Lion, she…"

She had accepted Allura as her new Paladin. Lance bowed his head. He was happy for them both; Allura was beyond amazing and he knew she was a better Paladin than he could ever be. And… and he was all right with it, right now. Right now he was so grateful to be back with his space family, to have his ex-slave family safe with him too. He had known they would need to move on, that his seat would be taken if he ever returned. And he could think of no one he'd rather have it than Allura.

"I had to stay," Hunk whispered. "I'm so sorry, Lance."

Lance squeezed him tight. It was okay. He wrote as such, words shaky, but Hunk shook his head.

"It's not. You were suffering so much and I wasn't there for you."

Lance tapped the screen again, emphasizing his previous message.

Hunk hugged him tighter.

"I missed you so much," he breathed. "Oh, Lance, hermano, I missed you."

Lance butted his head against Hunk's chest. Him too.

"Everything was wrong," Hunk whispered. "Pidge almost left too, before Allura and Blue came together. Keith… you think he was reckless before, man… Every Galra prison, every outpost, every planet we looked and Keith even got captured that one time and…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Lance wondered if that's when Keith had gotten the scar and felt guilt pool hot and heavy.

"Hey, none of that," and Hunk nudged him. Lance had forgotten how much of an open book he had always been to Hunk. "You've got nothing to feel bad about, okay? I'm just so glad you're back. We all are."

Hunk cuddled him again and Lance would have been content to remain there for the rest of his life, but he was becoming aware of the scent of dirt and stale sweat coming from him and all of a sudden he wanted nothing more than the hottest shower he could withstand. He didn't even remember what hot water felt like on his skin but he would bet it was heavenly.

He shifted Hunk's arms to get at his pad and wrote, "bath first, then food," and Hunk read it and nodded.

"Sounds good. How about you go to the shower and I'll grab you some clothes?" Hunk didn't ask him if he remembered where the washrooms were and Lance was grateful for it; he felt enough like a stranger already back on the ship.

Hunk still walked with him to the Paladins' bathroom, as it was en route to his old room, but Lance entered the quiet tiled room on his own, relieved to find it empty. It felt strange to be alone, but, well… the other aliens he knew would be using the main hall bathrooms as these were private so the only ones who would be in here would be the other Paladins.

And they had not yet seen him. Not really.

He shucked off his clothes, leaving them an abandoned pile on the floor, and viewed himself in the mirror on the sink and the full length one behind him reflecting his backside, wearing only the necklace that he had never taken off once Amber had placed it on him.

He…

He looked awful.

Worse yet, he knew none of it would improve. There were no current bruises or injuries. Everything here was a scar. The stomach one he knew well from the pickaxe, a thick line carved into him, and surrounded by smaller, thinner welts and lashes that had scarred from typical beatings.

There were a smattering of burn scars that had darkened to a deep reddish brown across his shoulders and about his arms from the tasers, thin lines on his ankles from the manacles and another set on his wrist where the ID tag had dug in, and of course the two lines on his neck.

But was his back that was truly frightening. He'd known it was bad but the glimpses he'd gotten of it in the lake were nothing. Scars dissected it every which way, a large few strikes in particular standing out from near hip to shoulder; the punishment he'd gotten between his second escape and then his datapad theft. They were a mixture of white and brown and red; some raised and some flat but all hideous.

He fled to the safety of the shower before he broke down crying naked in the middle of the bathroom.

It wasn't so much about his vanity, not at this point. It was the fact that he had so many reminders of pain, of horror, that would gaze back at him every time he glanced in a mirror. That he knew his fellow ex-slaves had similar marks of their own and although they were now free they would never be free of the memories. They would carry them always. The Toads had taken so so much from them – time, hope, freedom, happiness – and only replaced it with pain and horror and fear. The scars were a physical reminder of it all.

Lance gripped at the stone around his neck, drawing comfort from its smooth surface and the fact it had been found and then crafted with such love, with the support of his entire new family. He let that calm him, along with the pounding of warm water that he gradually raised until the entire shower was foggy with steam.

There were a few bottles of shampoo in there – Hunk's, he would guess based on the scent of a sort of honeysuckle – and he borrowed them and the soap bar, lathering himself so much he felt like a giant bubble. He was going to need a haircut, eventually. He knew he had had scissors in his room as he'd trimmed his hair a few times since being launched into space and he hoped he might be able to get some semblance of his old cut back. The shaggier style was too rough, too much of a reminder.

He didn't know how long he'd been in the shower for, but no one disturbed him. Eventually though, when he finished the soap bar, he knew it had to be time to get out. He left the water running, a comfortable backdrop noise, and grabbed the big fluffy teal towel that had been left on a hook outside the shower.

He held it in his hands after rubbing it, so soft on his cheek, debating what to do. He knew Hunk would be in the bathroom still. He could either cover himself up completely, hide what the Toads had done and the guilt and shame and horror from the marks, or he could go out there and expose himself now and get it over with. It might be better that way; to show Hunk while he had some manner of control rather than accidentally showcasing them further on if Hunk burst into his room or when they saw the marks on the other ex-slaves and realized Lance would no doubt have the same.

Lance sucked in a deep breath... and then tucked the towel snugly about his waist, leaving the majority of his scars exposed. This was it. He would show Hunk his scars and try and pretend they weren't really all that bad and he didn't care about his new appearance. He knew Hunk, while he would be upset, would not judge him for them, and as nosy as he was if Lance didn't want to talk (write) about it he wouldn't push.

He could do this.

It was just Hunk.

Lancepushed back the curtain and entered the cooler part of the bathroom not permeated by the steam from his shower looking to see where Hunk had set up to wait with actual clothes.

However it was three pairs of eyes that stared back him instead; honey brown, sharp purple and warm charcoal. Hunk, Keith and Shiro.

Lance froze as he felt said eyes widen, focusing with laser intensity on the scars that crossed his body like a horrific painting and no doubt getting a second look from the mirror reflecting his back to them.

Dios. They were all here. He hadn't even heard them talking because of the shower and they were all here and they were staring and what they must be thinking and he had to go, he had to hide, his earlier conviction faltering at the audience and he couldn't let them see what had happened, he had to –

Lance wasn't aware he had been stepping backwards until he hit the full length mirror next to the shower in his retreat.

Hunk and Shiro both surged forward but it was Shiro, stride still longer, who reached him first and arms wrapped about damp shoulders and practically dragged him off the mirror and into a hug against the broad chest.

"Don't," Shiro murmured into his hair. "Don't hide. You have nothing to hide, Lance."

Lance weakly shook his head, hands feebly pushing against Shiro, but Hunk was there then and wrapping him into a hug from behind and there was no escaping.

"Keith," Shiro called and the smaller boy (but not really to Lance, not anymore), who had been hovering as though unsure of what to do, moved closer. Shiro freed one arm from around Lance and in a blink and swapped himself with Keith, leaving one startled Red Paladin with his arms tentatively about Lance.

"Come on man, hug him," Hunk mumbled and Keith awkwardly did so, hands going to wrap about Hunk's back and ensconce Lance between them. Lance gave up his attempts to get away and rested his forehead against Keith's shoulder, at least hiding his face so they couldn't see his tears and shame.

There was the rustling of fabric and after another moment Shiro murmured out Lance's name. He shook his head, rubbing his forehead against the ribbing of Keith's jacket.

"Lance, buddy, look at me," Shiro called again, and there was a shaky quality to his voice that Lance had never really heard before. That prompted him to lift his head and a half-strangled gasp climbed out of his throat as his gaze went over Keith's shoulder to Shiro.

"Look," Shiro said quietly, standing there bare-chested as well. "It's okay."

Lance had always suspected Shiro might have a scar or two he didn't want to show as he'd never seen him in anything less than a full tee-shirt, but this… this…

There were lash marks across his stomach, a bite mark of some sort on his shoulder. More lines and punctures and all colors of scars across his chest and down his back as Shiro slightly turned.

"Sh-Shiro," Hunk stammered, whereas Keith had a knowing if sorrowful expression.

"I got these when I was a slave to the Galra," Shiro continued, keeping his eyes locked where Lance had met his eyes. "I'm not proud of them; I don't know where most of them came from, to be honest. They're not pretty. I don't like to look and I imagine they make others uncomfortable too. But they are a part of me and a testament to what I survived. I don't have to like them to acknowledge that fact."

He let out a soft sigh, crossing his arms over his stomach where an angry burn scar ran the length of it. "I'm not saying what to do one way or the other; that is up to you and as you can see, I'm not the best at taking my own advice. But never," charcoal bore into ocean, "be ashamed of them." He took a thick sounding breath. "All right?"

Lance was almost glad he couldn't speak as he had no idea what to say. His throat was clogged again, his legs trembling and only Hunk and Keith's holds were keeping him upright. Shiro… Shiro was just like him. The scars were from a different sort of slavery, a worse one Lance thought, where he'd been forced to fight and kill just to stay alive himself, but he had them too. And even if he didn't display them, didn't talk about them, Shiro did not let them control him. He rose past the marks and history and looked forward.

Lance knew about looking forward.

And so he nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks, and released the breathy sob as Shiro came back over and gently pulled them all into a hug.

"Things are going to be different," Shiro said quietly, "no matter what happens next. But I know we'll get through it. Together. As a team, as a family."

And Lance knew without a doubt that such a thing was the absolute truth.

xxx

Author's Notes:

I'll be honest, this is my favorite chapter of the whole fic and that includes both sides of the "reunion." Between Allura and Shiro taking on the king and then Hunk cuddling Lance and this final Shiro and Lance scene with the scars... mmmm, I am one happily sated Langst-er. I hope all of you enjoyed it as well! Please take a moment (or a few!) to leave a comment before you go. I'd love to hear from you on what you thought of the chapter.

And still, please no spoilers for season seven. See you for the final chapter Monday!