(From Ashes) Chapter 33

         Pride: From Ashes
            Chapter 33
            Open Wounds

Along with the main treatment chamber, half a dozen cramped stone alcoves were part of the shelter infirmary. At one point they'd been storage rooms; now they were equipped with a few threadbare beds and used for special situations. The one with the best ventilation was equipped as a combination operating room and intensive care unit. Dr. Gorma had put the team in the room next to that makeshift OR, because there was no way their comrade would be going further than that once his bullet wound was taken care of.

He'd tried to convince the uninjured team members to go somewhere else, but they'd been having none of it. So now a room with four beds was playing host to five Earthlings, a Polluxian, a Baltan, and two Arusians. It was awfully claustrophobic, and the biggest Earthling wasn't even there yet.

All of the beds were occupied—Keith, Sven, and Allura had been deemed the worst-off and assigned beds by Gorma. The fourth had been saved for Hunk, but Lance had insisted on Daniel using it until then. The others had gathered on the floor and a couple of chairs that did not inspire confidence.

Despite the crowd, it had been quiet. Eventually, for most of them, the shellshocked silence had given way to uneasy sleep.

Larmina had taken a spot by Auntie's bed—she'd planned to insist on guarding the door, but Miralna beat her to it. Probably just as well. She was feeling unmoored, what with the latest sinycka nonsense interrupting the latest lion nonsense, and her mind kept bouncing between them too fast to actually finish a cohesive thought.

What she kept circling back to, of all things, was the memorial the offworlders had held. The way they'd spoken about their dead then; the way they were reacting to their dead returning as some evil zombie construct thing now. She'd only recently been coming to understand what an Explorer Team actually was. A bunch of outcasts and rejects having weird soldier-y adventures together, if she followed things correctly. It had sounded so… nice. She'd kind of been jealous.

But that 'outcasts and rejects' thing hadn't fully set in until now, and there was something so familiar about it. So… familial, even. When polite society hated your guts, finally finding your people was something incredible. She'd felt it with the militia… was that what an Explorer Team was? Was it close enough, at least, to understand?

It sure as the five hells looked like it right now. And that thought was still twisting around in her head as she eventually drifted off.

—She'd been seven when she'd attended her first People's Forum. An ancient tradition where anyone of the province, from the poorest peasant to the most hated outlaw, could petition the reigning monarch in person. Queen Orla loved the People's Forum, so while Larmina didn't fully understand the idea—what was a petition, even?—she was excited to see what it would be like.

It had been a little bit of a letdown. Seeing so many different kinds of people was fascinating; she was rarely allowed to leave the manor grounds. But other than that, it was mostly just a lot of grownups talking. Boring. And boring it remained until an older woman in glittery formal garments appeared, and Orla shifted in mild agitation on her throne.

"Ambassador Venla, unless you come with an emergency this is not an appropriate time."

The woman waved that off. "I'll only be a few moments. The rumors are flying, I just had to see for myself. So this is the Shame of Altair?" She looked Larmina up and down, then snorted contemptuously. "She doesn't look like much. From all I've heard about your insistence on keeping her, I was expecting at least—"

Orla was on her feet before the sentence was finished. "Out."

"Excuse me?"

"Out of my court. Now."

Larmina had taken cover behind the throne. She really didn't want to leave her mother's side, but almost from her first steps, she'd been taught to make herself scarce in dangerous situations. But the ambassador lady was just yelling, so she peeked back out to watch. "You have no right to eject me! I am an envoy of the Grayavon Marsh in good standing—"

"—And your good standing will be the only thing threatened, if you leave my sight this instant." It was true that a monarch couldn't simply expel an ambassador—in a diplomatic setting, which this certainly was not. "Continue and there will be sanctions. You will not stand in my manor and insult my heir, my daughter. Out!"

Scowling, the ambassador gave up and turned away. But at the doorway she'd looked back over her shoulder. "I leave only under protest, and you will hear from my King. You can demand respect for your bastard, but you can't make her worthy of it!"

For a few moments, it had been so quiet in the reception room that Larmina could even hear the guards breathing. Then Queen Orla had stepped from the dais and curtsied to those still in line.

"Apologies, my friends. I know you've all traveled a long way to be here, and I will hear all of your petitions today. But for the moment we must recess."

As the people filed out, Larmina was vaguely aware of angry glares from some of them, pitying looks from others. But it wasn't really her focus. What she would never forget was the sight of her mother, eyes and markings burning with rage, blinking back a few tears before turning back to look at her once the room emptied. "Larmina? Are you alright?"

Without understanding much of what had just happened, Larmina thought she was fine. But her mother was crying, so she was upset too. "Who was that? What's a bastard?"

Queen Orla had whispered some words a child surely wasn't meant to hear. "The Ambassador believes some foolish things that you shouldn't need to be bothered by until you're older."

"No!" Larmina shook her head vigorously. "She made you cry, I want to know now!"

Orla bowed her head and breathed in slowly, and Larmina winced. That didn't seem like a good sign. But then a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Yes, you're right. I shouldn't shelter you from the truth, if you feel you are ready."

"I'm ready!" she insisted. Ready for what, she didn't know, but she was old enough for a People's Forum! Surely she was old enough to learn whatever a 'bastard' was.

"There are many things you do not yet understand about your place in this world," the queen said gently, opening her eyes. "And even when you understand them, many will not make sense—there is no sense to be found, only old habits and stubbornness."

"Like when Lady Riara tries to teach me flower weaving?" That was the most stubborn old habit Larmina could think of.

"I wish it were only that." Orla shook her head. "Listen to me carefully, Larmina. You must not speak of what I'm about to tell you, not to anyone. But most royalty does not grow up fatherless as you have."

Larmina blinked. The only thing she'd ever really heard about her father was that he was 'away', but it had never seemed like that big a deal. "Is that bad?"

"Without a known father, your lineage is incomplete… that is what 'bastard' means." She clenched her free hand into a fist. "And so those like the Ambassador imagine you must be the child of a commoner. In their arrogance, they can imagine nothing worse… they imagine it would make you somehow less worthy. But understand this, Larmina: they are wrong about all of it." Well, the ambassador lady being wrong about things didn't surprise her. "Your father was a good man, but he had powerful enemies. They spread vicious lies which cost him his title, and finally his freedom."

That didn't seem fair. "So tell the truth?"

Her mother's laughter had been sadder than she'd ever imagined laughter could be. "Oh, he tried. The lies were well-crafted. Even I couldn't protect him… I would have fought the lies even so. I wanted to. But it wouldn't have made any difference." She rested a hand on Larmina's shoulder. "And when we realized he couldn't be helped, we decided I had to protect you. To grow up as a bastard will be harsh, harsher than it should. I wish I could spare you that. But to grow up in the shadow of his supposed crimes would have been far worse. Do you understand?"

"Kind of?" She definitely understood having to choose between two things that were both bad. She did that every day with some of her tutors. But her mother was clearly talking about much more serious things than study tables. "Maybe?"

"I will tell you more in time," her mother promised. "Everything I can. But for the moment, remember this. Rule of the Seven Isles will go through you. You will not sit upon the throne, but you will choose the one who does. The one worthy of your choice to spend your life with." Orla smiled softly and ruffled her hair. "You will be stronger than I was, Larmina. Able to protect yourself, your beloved, and your people. We will make sure of it."

Most of that really had gone right over her seven-year-old head. But she didn't want to admit it, so she nodded eagerly. "I'll do a good job!"

"I know you will." Another smile. "Are you ready? Shall we call the petitioners back in?"

"Sure!" …Maybe she should've asked what a 'petitioner' actually was, too. But she had enough explanations to dwell on for now.—

Larmina woke with a small huff; she really had not needed that dream. Though it probably shouldn't surprise her. It was the story of her life in a single memory: confusion, failure, and courtly drama all wrapped up in one.

Maybe that was a little harsh. Maybe not.

In time, she'd learned exactly what it meant to be a bastard heir. In time, she'd come to question if it could actually be worse than living in the shadow of whatever her father had been accused of. And in time, she'd learned it very much could've been… Arus didn't generally believe in punishing children for things their parents had done.

The noble children of convicted traitors were just something of a special case.

So her father was rotting in a cell, if not worse, somewhere in the Derevan Reaches. The brother who'd deposed him was running around free, and probably collaborating with Drules. And she was sitting here in the castle shelters with a bunch of offworlders, rather than… locked up in some faraway cell of her own.

Perhaps the most infuriating part of the whole debut ball fiasco was that her mother had never been wrong about any of it. It had been the best of bad options, until the alien invaders turned up to make everything worse.

Her mind went back to her last discussion with Green Lion. The point she'd come so close to understanding.

What's left…

Looking around the room, she was struck again by a deep sense of familiarity. The Voltron Force might be the hope of Arus, but first they'd fled here after they couldn't save all of their own. Like the lions couldn't save Arus to begin with. Like her mother hadn't been able to save her father from courtly intrigue and bullshit. So she'd cut her losses to protect their daughter, because that was…

What's left.

You will be stronger.

We are all stronger…

In the stifling, cramped cavern, she could've sworn she felt a breeze circling past her.

*****

Pidge had been stewing more than he'd been sleeping, getting angrier with every passing moment. The fight, if it could be called that, looped just the same through his mind whether he was awake or not.

Who are you calling an idiot?

You.

Well, he hadn't been smart, to be fair. He should've done so much better, should've done so many things differently. But maybe he could remedy the mistakes. The anger was crystallizing around the moment he'd charged in. Ready to strike, yet he'd failed. He'd let his emotions get in the way.

Now he knew better. What had Allura said? They were all in there, the body had to be killed to free them. But that was easier said than done, too… and he was the trained assassin of the team.

This is your responsibility. Land the blow so the others won't have to.

Flynn was out there. They didn't dare leave the situation on his terms; even putting aside how badly the battle had gone, he'd come too damn close to killing Hunk before anyone else knew there was a battle at all. That couldn't continue. And Pidge was a Baltan, this was the necessary if painful action, he was a literal ninja. He was the best suited for the job.

Yes, that was why. Entirely logical. Entirely dispassionate. Not at all because he was the one who'd gotten Flynn killed in the first place, so he owed it to him to free him from—

"—Windseeker."

Yes?

"No."

He made a face. No what? No, I shouldn't do what I'm best at to help the team?

"Ah, is that what you're thinking of doing without the team's input?"

They'd tell me not to, no matter what, because humans are illogical. But I'm pretty sure we all just saw direct combat didn't work. Frown. I won't leave without telling anyone, relax.

"Cub, you are many admirable things, but 'conducive to relaxation' is not among them."

…He really couldn't find an argument for that. And he was spared from doing so as movement from the opposite wall caught his eye.

Vince groaned softly as he realized he was both awake, and sitting on the stone floor of the infirmary room. He'd been back to hoping for all of this to be some freaky coma dream. No such luck. And he didn't feel like he'd done much actual sleeping, really… sighing, he looked around to see if he'd missed anything.

"Morning, mechka." Pidge was pretty certain it was morning.

All Vince could do was nod in acknowledgment. It didn't feel very morning-y. "Any news about Hunk yet? Is he out of surgery?"

"One of the Arusians came out and tried to talk to me earlier. Only words I understood were 'hello' and 'sorry', but the 'sorry' was definitely because I wasn't understanding anything else." Lady Hys' booklets had been kind enough to include I don't speak Arusian among the key phrases. "They weren't acting like it was urgent, I think that's a good sign."

"Yeah, probably. I mean if they needed to tell us something we'd know, right?" The thought occurred to Vince that he could bypass the Arusians entirely for an update on Hunk, if he really wanted to… he pushed that traitorous thought aside and frowned. "We need to learn the language faster."

"Yes." There were a lot of things they needed to do faster, but the language was on the list. "In the meantime if they don't wake up someone who can understand them, I think it's safe to assume it wasn't that important."

"Probably." As if summoned by his earlier thought, Vince heard Yellow Lion purring in his mind. And much as he didn't want to feel reassured, it was hard not to… looking around to distract himself, he noted that everyone else looked asleep. They weren't talking loudly, but even so.

Yeah well, after what went on out there, who wouldn't be exhausted? A pang of guilt hit him with that thought, and he lowered his eyes. Maybe he should just keep to himself.

That lasted a whole couple of seconds. "Anyway, now that someone else is awake, I need to get out of here for a little bit."

Vince snapped his gaze back up to Pidge. "What?"

"Relax, you don't need to guard the place. That knight with the sword I have a lot of questions about is out by the door."

As if that was what he'd been worried about. "That's not my issue, we just need to be here!" For many reasons. "What could you possibly have to do right now?"

"Sitting here all night hasn't changed a thing," he said truthfully, "except for making me mad." Vince was not supposed to object to him leaving. When had anyone ever objected to him not being around? Green gave a reproachful growl at that, which didn't become much less reproachful when he muttered, "I just need some air."

"Air?" Vince looked around the room and sure, it was definitely cramped, uncomfortably so. It was almost believable. Any other time he'd have bought it. But seriously… "Pidge?" The ninja gave him a look, and he matched it. "I'm not actually a seal-like creature, you know."

"You don't look a thing like one."

"Thank goodness. …Just stay."

Pidge's eyes narrowed. "You were busy covering Hunk—which is good—but maybe you didn't catch what actually happened out there." That might be a low blow, but he really wasn't sure what Vince had seen.

The glare he received answered half of that, at least. "Of course I caught it!" How could I miss it? It might be my fault. "And it's like the number one reason you should stay here!"

That logic escaped Pidge entirely. "I can't just stay still like this."

His hand had gone to his knife, and Vince sighed. Fine. "We both know I literally cannot stop you, don't bother waving the pointy thing around." I'll wake up Keith.

Pidge blinked, looking down at his hand on the hilt of the knife, and quickly pulled it away. "…See, and that is why I need to get some air." It would've been true even if he weren't intending to do exactly what Vince was obviously worried about. "I'll be fine." He stood and slipped out of the room before the debate could go any further.

Grrr… Vince spun around toward the beds. "Keith!"

Keith had been easing his way towards consciousness as the hushed conversation went on, but the yell still startled him. Which immediately hurt. Ow, yeah… bruises. "What is it, Vince?"

"Pidge took off, it's…" Immediately he felt silly. Crap, why hadn't he even managed to goad the ninja into talking a little more? "…He claims he needs air."

Blinking, Keith sat up on the bed and winced as what seemed like every muscle in his body protested. "Maybe he does?"

Larmina had cracked an eye open to monitor the proceedings, and jumped a little as Green spoke up. "He does not."

Yeah, I got that.

Vince just gave Keith a look, and the commander grimaced. Pidge did tend to be… proactive, but… "He's smarter than to go after him alone." I hope.

"He is not," Green said lightly, and Larmina scowled.

Got that too.

Another look from Vince had Keith convinced of the same thing, and he carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I can try to go after him." But the instant he actually put weight on his feet, pain stabbed through one of the bruises on his thigh and he went back down. "Ow."

Well, fuzzmuffins. "Someone should," Vince said quietly, looking around and trying to remember who wasn't hurt. Himself, sure, but what was he supposed to do? He felt guilty again, and useless besides, but they'd already established Pidge wouldn't listen to him…

"Stormsoul is injured," Green growled. "Someone else must go. Perhaps someone who knows the surroundings better than offw—"

Shut up already, I get it. "I'll go after him." Vince yelped in surprise as Larmina stood up—he'd forgotten she was there at all, let alone sitting two feet away from him. "You people can't find your ninja when he goes missing anyway."

…She wasn't wrong about that, and Keith sighed before nodding. "We'd appreciate that. Thank you."

"Thanks," Vince agreed quietly.

Snort. "I'll decide if you're welcome after I find him, but sure." Nodding to them, she departed also.

Sighing, Keith looked after her until the entry curtain fell back into place, then looked back over at Vince. "Any word on Hunk?"

"Pidge said someone tried to talk to him at some point, but language barriers. Said it didn't seem urgent."

That was probably the best they could hope for. Keith leaned forward, testing his bruises and grimacing. For now he had to believe that Hunk was going to be okay, and Larmina would stop Pidge from doing anything ill-advised. He simply was in no condition to do anything else.

Trust your team. But it wasn't quite that, in this case. Trust the people supporting your team. They had to rely on this planet, as surely as this planet relied on them.

Speaking of that…

"How are we supposed to combat that… that…?" It didn't feel right to use Flynn's name, but it didn't feel right to just call him a thing, either.

"Jaivur," Black supplied. But he didn't feel quite right with that one either; the alien term felt too detached.

"Abomination," Yellow growled softly to Vince, and he startled again.

Flynn's not… is he… why am I talking to you?

"Because not even your denial can last indefinitely. And the Earth is patient."

Oh, sure. This was a great way to get over his denial. He tried to mentally glare at the lion, while shaking his head slightly at Keith's question. It was too hard to find words at all, never mind answers.

That was fair; Keith had more been asking himself, and if there was anyone on the team who least needed that burden, it was their overwhelmed electrical engineer. "Did you sleep any, Vince?"

"A bit, kinda. Kept thinking about…" Their ghosts. He wasn't going to say that out loud, and was certain Keith would misinterpret, but oh well. The obvious assumption wasn't that far off the mark.

Keith watched him for another few moments to see if he'd say anything else, and nodded slowly when he didn't. "A bit is good, at least." Looking around the room he saw several others stirring. "Anyone else awake?"

"How could we not be with all this talking?" Daniel groaned.

"What's sleep, boss?" Lance pushed his blankets aside; he wasn't cold anymore, though he still felt numb.

The others didn't even muster words. Allura weakly raised a hand in acknowledgment, clutching her own blanket tighter around herself, while Sven sat halfway up and just grumpily looked around. Between them, Romelle stretched, then shivered as she remembered where they all were and why.

"Sorry." Keith felt confident enough to try standing up again, this time shifting his weight to avoid aggravating the worst of his bruises. With enough caution, he could limp across the room to where Lance was sitting. "How are you?" He kept his voice low, even if it did seem like everyone was up by now.

Lance flinched. What a question. "Fucked up, but…" He never touched me. "I'm fine. Won't freeze again." I hope.

Nodding, Keith lightly squeezed his shoulder. "Wasn't what I was expecting either." It felt like a ridiculous statement—why would any of them have expected that? But he didn't know what else to say. He turned his attention to Daniel. "You feeling any better?"

The kid didn't move, keeping his eyes resolutely on the ceiling. He felt like he could sleep for another week and probably wake up slightly less exhausted. In terms of actual injuries he wasn't too bad. "I guess. I'll be fine."

"They checked you out, right?" Lance's memories of reaching the infirmary were fuzzy, though he vaguely recalled insisting Daniel take the bed. What he remembered was freezing, letting the kid down in combat, letting them all down…

"Yeah." Daniel felt something similar. What had he done, exactly? Nearly knocked himself out by setting everything on fire but the zombie who'd been trying to kill them. "Just some bruised ribs and being exhausted, like, holy fuck I've never been so sore."

Keith gave him a sympathetic smile. "You did good out there, looking after Lance while he was frozen."

Much as Lance didn't appreciate that reminder, it was true; he reached up and wrapped an arm over Daniel's shoulders. "Yeah, you did good, kid. Sorry about that."

"Good?" Daniel snorted. "These lion powers are like a powder keg and I'm a little kid running around with matches." It hadn't been good. He gave Lance an apologetic look; Red curled warmth around them both.

"You're learning," Keith pointed out. It had only been a matter of days. "You'll figure it out."

"Yes. You will learn to control the flame within."

"I literally turned Sven into barbecue."

"Oh, don't." Sven sounded about as generally cranky as he felt. "You can't reference barbecue without Hunk here to comment. That's just cruel, and he's been through enough."

"See kid? The Viking's fine. He's ice!"

The Viking in question certainly wouldn't have described himself as fine, though he did have enough burn salve and painkillers to mostly be comfortable. But he didn't object to Lance's statement, because Daniel obviously felt bad enough about it.

Using Lance to brace himself, Daniel finally gathered the energy to sit up—then took a minute to catch his breath, even that was exhausting. "But really, 'bout that. I am so sorry, Sven, I really didn't mean to—"

"—It's fine." Frown. "Well, it's not fine." He was really, really sick of being burned. "But it isn't your fault. You can't be expected to control a power you've barely had training for, especially such an intense situation. These," he pointed to his burns, "are on that thing. Not you."

The words that thing sent a few winces around the room. Lance looked away and found that Daniel's salalizards had all meandered in sometime overnight; he grinned and gave Kermi a wink. She sidled up next to him, drawing an irked look from Daniel. Here he was injured and she still didn't like him!

Noting the lizards, Keith couldn't help but crack a small grin. "So which one helped you out there?"

Daniel pointed to the gray and dark reddish one. "Toast. Obviously."

Chuckling, he carefully reached out and patted the salamander's head. "You did good too, Toast." Toast shuffled his feet and let off a bit of warmth, but the yellow one next to him burped several embers Keith's way.

"You did do pretty awesome, buddy—CROUTON! Not on the hospital bed!"

…And that was probably enough of that. "Okay so, how's everyone else? Sven? Romelle?"

Sven shook his head. "Other than being confused and a bit crispy, I am fine."

"I'm alright." Romelle was also confused, but she was certain she was better off than anyone else in the room right now.

"Princess?"

Allura looked up. She'd been listening carefully, but speaking seemed like a lot of effort. "Sore, tired. But I'm okay."

A lot of people in here were claiming to be okay other than not being okay, Keith noted. Not that he was in any position to call that out. Sighing, he made his way to the other chair and sat down heavily; he was pleasantly surprised when it only wobbled a little. "We need to figure out how to defeat… that." More winces. "Do you know anything else about these jaivurs, Romelle?"

She shook her head. "Mostly just what I said before. Jaivern belongs to the domain of the Drule death goddess, Sarga. I was discouraged from looking too deeply into her; the Ninth doesn't consider her a main patron, and they find most of her subordinates inauspicious to speak of. But…" She took a long, shallow breath. "King Zarkon's court witch, Haggar. She is a servant of Sarga. And she's the one who creates the robeasts, so I would expect she could do this as well."

The team exchanged uneasy glances. "Someone creates the robeasts?"

"His witch serves a goddess they don't even like?"

"What else do you know about this Haggar? Or Jaivern?"

"Not much," she admitted softly, shivering a little as she sought through her memories. It had never seemed that important at the time. "I never met Haggar myself, she only came up in conversation a couple of times. Even Lotor," she shuddered, "sounded uncomfortable talking about her. I don't know why she has the place she does in Zarkon's court."

"Because they're evil fuckers," Lance suggested under his breath.

Romelle was certain that wasn't the reason the Drules would claim, but also didn't care to argue it. "Jaivern is a primordial beast—the Drules have quite a few of them they revere as deities. It rules over undeath."

"What does that even mean? Ruling over undeath?" What have they done to him?

"God of zombies," Daniel muttered. "Great."

Romelle shrugged and shook her head. "As I said, I never looked too deeply into it." Frowning, she traced the Drakure characters absently with her fingers. "The term could also be read as 'rebirth', I believe. But my understanding was it relates to the Drule concept of the afterlife, not… well…" She gestured helplessly. "That."

Flynn. Lance perked up slightly at the word rebirth, despite himself. What if…

"I'm gonna have to call bullshit." Daniel shook his head. "I wasn't super close with Flynn, but even I know there's no way any rebirthed version of him is going to try and murder us. Zombie."

It was true, Lance knew that, but his heart was screaming. "He's in there, though."

Keith barely resisted the urge to stand up and start pacing, only because he knew he'd regret it. The background information from Romelle might not have much immediate utility, but someone else had found something more practical. "Princess? Black said you had information too, what did you see?"

Everyone's attention turned to Allura, who closed her eyes and exhaled. "Such twisted magic. There were three spirits hidden within, chained together in pain by that poisonous energy. I could barely see two of them—the one I made the best contact with cried out to me. He told me we had to fight, to not hold back…" She opened her eyes, still feeling the horror. And the sheer frustration. "I think he was trying to tell me more, but the warped magic took over again. The last thing he said was just… nyet, if that means anything to you?" Perhaps it was some Alliance code.

Keith froze, and Daniel stiffened and shook his head. "Nyet?" Allura nodded. "That… that was Cam. Cameron Starr, our comms officer. Nyet means no in his local language."

"He was… he was in pain?" Daniel didn't want to deal with this right now, he couldn't deal with it, but the words came out anyway. "They were in pain?"

Allura looked at him and bit her lip, remembering the memorial and the eulogy he'd delivered. So that was Cam. And Daniel was… she lowered her eyes and hedged, slightly. "He said that being trapped in that creation was hell." Strictly speaking, she didn't know they were in physical pain. But being bound to an undead monster trying to kill their own friends would surely be hell enough without it.

The team understood what she was saying just fine. Sven winced, feeling a small bubble of nausea, as Lance shook his head in denial. Vince swallowed back any words that might try to slip out. He'd just seen Cam, not that long ago, and he'd been so… so Cam! Not in pain, not in hell.

But it had all changed.

"I have never seen spirits warped in quite the manner of that creature," Yellow said grimly.

Why are… Vince stopped that thought. Maybe just for now he could talk to the creepy metal cat. Nobody else here knew what he'd been seeing, and he certainly wasn't going to bring it up. Why, though? Why would someone even do that?

The lion gave a disgusted snarl. "To do harm."

Looking around the grim, angry, and utterly lost faces of his teammates, Vince gave the slightest nod of agreement. It's working.

"But he was… he was Cam, he warned you as himself?" Lance was still desperately clinging to hope. He knew he was grasping at straws, he just wasn't sure he could function if he let them go. But the question hadn't been the most coherent thing, and Allura tilted her head in confusion.

"He wasn't giving any names? Only a plea to be free of the magic."

Understanding where Lance was coming from, and not sure it was the best route to take, Keith stepped in. "Black said we had to destroy the jaivur to set them free. Will that harm them?"

"No, he was very clear about that," Allura said quickly. "That we shouldn't hesitate to kill the body, it would be nothing compared to the pain they're in now."

"Can't we catch a fucking break?" Daniel demanded, then flinched because yelling hurt. Which didn't stop him. "I mean first we get thrown in the arena, then we had to watch them die, now we have to destroy one of their bodies to save them all from magical afterlife hell? What the FUCK!"

Romelle and Allura exchanged winces; the events might not be the same, but they felt the frustration just as much. And the other Earthlings were nodding in grudging agreement, even Keith. Who could blame them?

The yelling, though, had gotten attention from outside the room—Gorma had been on his way there anyway, but picked up the pace a bit at the sound of one of his patients clearly not behaving. Sure enough, as he stepped into the doorway he saw a recovery room that was not at all how he'd left it.

Pushing down the exasperation, he started with the reason he'd come in. "I have news of your friend." Immediately everyone spun to face him; he directed his words to the princess, knowing she would be able to translate. "He has a shattered rib and extensive tissue damage, but he will recover fully. He's very fortunate, the bullet deflected off the bone. And if it weren't for his size the damage would still have been much worse. As it is, he'll be ready for transfer to this room once he comes out from under sedation, but that may be some time yet; we had to estimate the dosage."

Romelle had actually picked up translating before Allura could say anything, just on reflex. The princess was grateful; talking still took a lot out of her. The news was a relief, at least…

Though Lance found himself frowning as the wave of relief passed. Deflected off the rib? "He nearly missed Hunk? Standing still?" It was just now processing, with confirmation of the damage.

"Sounds like," Keith agreed. "Which does seem… odd." He looked over at Allura again. "You said you definitely saw three?" She nodded, and he tried to make sense of it. If the jaivur had Jace's hand to hand skill and Cam's sword skill, surely it should have Flynn's gunnery regardless—never mind that it was Flynn's actual body.

Lance was trying to make sense of it too. What does it mean? Probably not what you want. But…

"Uh." Nobody had actually responded to the report, and Vince's moms had raised him to be a gentleman. "Thank you so much, Mr… er, Dr… Person?"

Allura couldn't help but giggle slightly. "Gorma. Dr. Gorma."

As Vince blushed, Romelle translated—though with the proper name—and Gorma nodded his acknowledgment. Then he swept the entire room with a highly judgmental look. The little one with the bruises on his throat was outright missing, and the rest of his patients weren't doing a great deal better.

"Now I need all of you to rest," he ordered. "You," he pointed at Sven, "need to hydrate. You're covered in first and second degree burns, the balm is helping but you need fluids." He gave Romelle time to translate before turning to Daniel, who he was already getting tired of seeing. "You, lie down. You have bruised ribs and I believe you were given that bed due to extreme exhaustion."

Daniel laid back down, and Sven sipped some water from a canteen that had been left next to him. With a bit more profanity it would've felt like being lectured by Jace—though Jace would've lectured them before anyone had the chance to misbehave.

"You," Gorma turned his attention to Keith, "have deep muscle bruises that need to be rested. Last time I was here you were in the bed on the other side of the room, for now would you please stay seated."

Keith blushed faintly and nodded. The chair wasn't so bad, maybe Hunk could have his bed and Daniel wouldn't have to move.

"You were in shock," he continued, looking at Lance. "Please keep those blankets on until you are cleared."

He was definitely saying please too much to be Jace. Nonetheless, Lance grabbed one of the discarded blankets. He really wasn't cold anymore, and he did have Red… the lion curled some more warmth around him in agreement.

Gorma looked a little irritated, but supposed one blanket would suffice. The room was much warmer now that so many people had been there all night. So he turned to Allura and bowed his head slightly. "Princess, you need to be icing that cheek."

Allura blinked; that sounded vaguely familiar, now that he mentioned it. She was supposed to have an icepack for where she'd smacked her face into the ground. Looking around, she found the now-warm pack on the floor and winced.

Without missing a beat, Gorma took a new icepack from his medical kit and handed it to her, taking the old one to clean and re-chill. "I'll have orderlies checking in if you need anything, and I want to hear that you've all been resting. Understood?"

All he got was a couple of weak nods and noncommittal shrugs, but he was already becoming certain that was the best he could expect from this team. Shaking his head slightly, he departed.

*****

Larmina hadn't gone looking for Pidge, strictly speaking. She'd gone back to the castle proper and through a tunnel to the person… or well, not-person… who could actually help with this problem.

"Okay, Green Lion. Where is he? Don't even pretend you don't know."

"Oddly enough, your accusations are not incorrect." Larmina raised an eyebrow, and the lion purred a little sheepishly. "I was not intending to tell you where he is; you have seen the danger the enemy presents."

…Oh for hells' sake. "Then why drag me out here?!"

"Because I require my key. You will find it in my cockpit; Windseeker keeps it on the seat." The lion lowered her head to the moss, opening her jaws. "I can go and fetch him myself, if you will activate me."

Larmina froze. "What d… you… you can do that?"

"I believe so."

"You can just fly off on your own to save him, but couldn't—"

"—Cub, we do not have time for this!" The lion's roar sent a gale whistling through the den, and she jumped. "Without our keys we can do almost nothing—and nothing at all while we slept. If you still cannot believe we did not wish for this fate to befall your planet, why are you here at all? This world is not yet lost, but if I lose my Bonded now I can promise nothing!"

Opening her mouth to snarl back, Larmina was silenced by a memory. A realization finally putting itself fully into words.

…We can still protect what's left.

Sometimes all you can do is protect what's left.

She'd understood that instinctively all this time. But only as a scramble for survival, because the alternative sucked even more. But now, at last, the final piece fell into place.

What's left is worth saving.

Saving what's left is still worth it!

"…Fine. But if he's that important to Arus, I'm coming with you to yell at his stupid ninja butt after you save him."

"He did not act out of stupidity," the lion objected as Larmina vaulted over her jaws. "But by all means, lecture him for it; he does not listen to me regarding such things."

"I wouldn't listen to you either," she retorted, ignoring the fact that she very much just had listened to Green lecturing her. As she entered the cockpit, she found the key exactly as promised, and found the key-shaped slot on the console easily enough.

As she placed the key, a shudder ran through the cockpit around her, engines and systems springing to life. With a roar, the lion sprang forward…

And her movements seemed to seize up midway through, sending her crashing to the ground. Larmina yelped indignantly and dropped into the front seat, gripping the armrests as hard as she could. "Um? Unnecessary!"

Green didn't respond, but tried to move again. And again, there was a screech of gears and joints that didn't sound correct. A third try got them very close to the vines that shrouded the den's entrance, but if anything it had seemed even less fluid than her other attempts.

"This is not right…"

"Even I can tell that," Larmina shot back.

"The keys must be more…" She cut herself off with a huff. "Cub, you have seen the rest of the Pride. Which was least injured? We will require one of my siblings after all."

But they're all injured. Everyone except Romelle and Vince, the two she was pretty certain hadn't done the lion bonding thing. "Uh, maybe Lance?" It would take time. And probably be more difficult for Green to guide one of the others. And as Larmina's mind raced, she found herself staring at the controls in front of her.

She'd never so much as touched a spacecraft's controls before.

"…Can I fly you?"

The lion gave a short, startled growl. "I… cannot ask that of one who is unbonded, cub."

"You're not asking. I'm telling you." Her eyes narrowed. "You needed me here so badly, unless there's some reason I can't fly you, tell me where the 'go' button is and let's go."

An almost overwhelming purr rocked the cockpit around her, and Larmina really felt like it wasn't the time for Green to sound quite that smug. "Place your hand on my key and focus yourself. You will be able to see as I see, but look quickly. You know what may happen."

The memory of the strange power attacking her in the forest flitted through Larmina's mind, and she nodded. "Got it." Resting her hand on the key, she tried to figure out what 'focusing herself' actually meant. Did she concentrate on the key? The controls? The alien text on the consoles? The lion herself?

And suddenly she saw it—felt it. She knew what the control sticks were for, the weapons. But before she could figure out anything else, a sharp pain shot through her skull and her cheeks.

Well, fine. She had the movement and the guns, surely that was all she needed, right? Grabbing the controls, she tried to leap the lion forward… and was rewarded with a resounding clang as the movements did not seize up, but did smack the lion's head directly into the wall of the den.

"Um. Sorry."

"Calm, cub. Concentrate. You needn't be an expert, just get us there."

Right. A couple more clangs got them progressively closer to the exit, and finally Green Lion staggered clumsily out into the trees.

This rescue wasn't going to be pretty, Larmina admitted to herself. But if it worked, Pidge did not get to complain.

*****

How did one track a zombie, precisely? Not even Baltan training had covered this specific scenario. But how hard could it be?

Flynn had looked like he'd run to the north, his retreat covered by some large pieces of debris. Pidge frowned as he moved through the meadow. The foothills were probably the best place to hide around the castle if one excluded the forest, and the forest had banewolves. Not to mention a large robotic feline who generally seemed to know what was going on in there.

If I were Flynn, where would I hide? Certainly not anywhere with plants. But… this isn't Flynn.

He kept trying to tell himself that. He knew that. The whole point of coming out here alone was because he was a damn Shinori and he of all people should be able to internalize that fact!

Of course, he'd spent much of his life being told a varetya couldn't be a real Shinori. But to the hells with them, he was bonded to a mythical lion robot from Balto and they weren't.

Stop getting distracted. You're hunting an undead monster that almost killed your whole team, this is exactly the time to focus.

Tracking, it turned out, wasn't nearly as hard as he'd feared. All it really took was reaching the top of a particularly large hill, and the place he needed to go made itself quite clear.

Oh. Oh, that's not good.

There was no mistaking what he was seeing. A whole cluster of trees had been completely stripped—of leaves, and some even of their branches. Piles of scorched and rotted wood littered the ground. It looked very much like the parts of the meadow where Flynn's energy blasts had hit.

He's been practicing. Hells.

But the worst of it wasn't the trees, or even what they represented. It was the fact that in the midst of the trees, he could see where Flynn must have actually been hiding. What looked like a simple abandoned house…

What Pidge knew to be one of the hidden entrances to the shelters. No matter how well the actual door was hidden, having Flynn there could not be a good thing.

It won't matter in a minute. He drew his knife and started to circle the area, keeping to what spindly shadows remained. Another reason to finish this now.

Flynn was exhausted, which felt… vaguely unfair. This wasn't his area of expertise, but he was pretty sure the undead were not supposed to get tired. Obviously trying to apply human portrayals of the undead to Drule magic was not useful, but it helped him focus. Or rather, it kept him at a level of irritation that prevented the voices from getting through, without the blinding rage that stopped him from concentrating. Or just thinking in general.

Bullets would've been so much more efficient than all of this.

He was sitting on a particularly large branch that he'd blasted loose, waiting for his energy to recharge or whatever the fuck it did. Trying to think and not-think at the same time, planning his next move.

Kogane had seemed surprisingly willing to stab him, really. Of course he had, just another reason to… no, that didn't make any sense, he'd…

You literally shot Hunk.

The fuck did you expect?

And that was why he didn't like having time to think. "Shut up!" The voices might've pushed back, but the anger was swelling and it all—

Out of nowhere, something sharp plunged into the base of his neck, followed by a heavy impact to the back that he barely felt. He tried to spin around, but his body wouldn't move. What the?!

Pidge had made damn certain to feel the blade cut all the way through the spinal cord before pulling his knife free, and kicked off the branch to retreat before he could think it over further. An eerie silence seemed to fall for a moment; no movement, no scream. Just what he'd come here to do, a single deadly strike. He felt nausea, forced it down. Kill the body to free them.

But he couldn't quite hold back a whisper. "I'm sorry, Flynn…"

He heard Green's soft warning growl a second before the energy flashed. A burst of sickly purple light from deep within the wound. And then there was a scream—a short, strangled cry—and Flynn turned to face him, eyes alight with rage.

"…Not as sorry as you're about to be."

Oh, hells.

He vaulted back immediately, and the first energy blast hit in front of him. "Did you come alone?" Flynn taunted, charging after him before he could fully disengage. "What am I saying, of course you did. Fine—I could use a moving target." Another blast, and he smirked. "Did you actually think that would work?"

…In retrospect, assuming a literal reanimated corpse needed its spinal cord that badly might have been foolish. But Pidge had no intention of getting into a verbal sparring match—or a physical one, for that matter. He'd seen what this jaivur could do, he needed to get out of here.

He sprinted behind a tree that still had most of its branches, trying to blend in with the shadows. An instant later, the sickly purple flame engulfed the tree; several branches withered and fell down around him, though the trunk seemed to remain steady. Jalekya. He couldn't exactly use cover to his advantage if the cover was going to keep being removed.

Fine. Flynn obviously knew where he was. He could've swung around the tree, could've doubled back. Either of those could be anticipated. Instead he crouched and sprang up to one of the few remaining branches; it cracked beneath his weight, and fell as he lunged.

The falling branch made for an even better distraction as he sprang from above. Impact still worked at least a little bit against this thing. Landing a double kick squarely to Flynn's face, he kicked off and sprinted in the opposite direction, not even waiting to hear the jaivur go down.

It almost worked. A blast seemingly aimed for his legs went wide, and he was almost clear… except the blast kept going. And while it hadn't hit him, one of the stripped trees ahead of him had reached its limit.

The trunk cracked, and it crashed down, shaking the ground and throwing him back.

"Mijtairra sa kye…" Leaping to his feet, he took half a second to gauge whether to go around or over the fallen tree, and that half second was too much. Searing energy slammed into the back of his knees, and he barely managed to turn and face his opponent as he went down.

"Where do you think you're going?" Flynn asked coldly. "I expected better from you, of all people. What happened to humans being soft? Weak?"

Oh no he did not. "You're not human. We know what you are."

"Do you." Flynn had a lot of thoughts about that; even he didn't know quite what he was. It didn't matter. "I'd ask if that's why you're running away… but you ran away after you let us die, too."

"You can't blame us for that," Pidge snarled. The hostility was sparking his own anger, the resentment that had filled him in the aftermath, more effectively than logic ever could. "I told you to take care of yourself, damn you! Why the hell did you decide to play hero?"

"Play hero?" Flynn hissed in fury, advancing on him. "Is that what you tell yourself? Is that how you've forgiven yourself? I died for you!" Violet flames arced between his hands. "And now you're going to die for me."

Hells.

He only had a split second. He knew that. As the energy arced forward Pidge jumped and twisted, feeling the heat on his back and the concussive force knocking him off balance. With a scream he hoped was convincing he collapsed to the ground, freezing completely. Maybe he couldn't harm Flynn like this, but hopefully he could still outsmart him…

Footsteps. Closer. He could feel Flynn standing over him, and for a few moments everything was deathly silent.

Then a searing pain seemed to erupt everywhere in his body at once, and this time the scream was very real.

"Did you really think that would fool me?" The impact hit a split second after the heat, flinging him back against the tree. No point faking it anymore—he struggled to stand, but he'd had the wind knocked out of him by the blow, and had barely even gotten his feet beneath him when the second flare struck. "So fucking arrogant."

Expecting the pain this time, Pidge managed to suppress another scream. He at least wouldn't give him that satisfaction. But this time, the pain just seemed to continue… he had to do something.

With every bit of effort he had left, he forced himself into a roll, slamming hard into the jaivur's shins. And while the energy stopped, there was a distinct lack of his target hitting the ground.

Suboptimal. Extremely suboptimal.

Flynn stared down at him, cold and contemptuous. "Are you afraid now?" he asked softly.

The words only brought back more memories. Trying to fend off that damned question, trying to avoid admitting it even to himself.

What are you afraid of?

It wasn't this…

"No." Pidge struggled to his hands and knees, fighting to breathe. "There's nothing you can do to frighten me anymore."

I was afraid I'd fail you. I was afraid I'd lose you.

You're long gone.

It didn't seem Flynn knew exactly how to react to that. But then energy flared up between his hands again. "That's alright. I don't need—"

"—Windseeker, brace yourself!"

Everything around them exploded, and a cyclone threw Flynn into the abandoned house hard enough to shake the stone walls.

"Green…!"

Sheltered from the worst of the wind by the fallen trees, Pidge barely even felt the dirt and ash he knew had to be pelting him. No time. He saw the lion touch down—rather clumsily, it seemed, though maybe that was just his own exhaustion—and ran for it.

"He's dazed. Quickly!"

It was all he could do to clamber over Green's jaws, but he was motivated. The scar over his shoulder blade had opened up and was seeping blood. Any other physical damage would have to wait, no time to inspect it now.

With his situational awareness stretched to its limits, Pidge had barely even spared a thought to wonder how exactly Green had come to save him. It wasn't until he got into the cockpit and saw…

"Komora sa kye?"

"You're welcome," Larmina snapped. "On your butt, ninja. We're getting out of here before Tall Red and Undead down there gets his wits back."

Part of Pidge felt like he should demand she get out of his seat. The thought came and went; he hurt like hell, and felt incredibly drained. "Shut up and fly."

In all honesty, she'd been hoping he would demand his seat, but supposed she couldn't insist on him taking the controls now. Instead she launched the lion into what was a very shaky ascent; maybe he would see the problem.

He did, though even if he'd had the energy, who was he to complain about someone else's piloting? Especially someone who'd just saved his life? That wouldn't be… ugh… manners. So he just closed his eyes. Green… really?

"There is a way you could have avoided this situation, Windseeker."

…Point.

"In fact, perhaps you should utilize some of those manners you were just thinking of?"

Oh, shut up. We both know you don't care about my manners. Green chuckled at that, but the thought was in his head now, and finally he huffed in irritation. The lion was right. "So uh, yeah. Thanks."

Larmina snorted. "You can thank me by parking. I barely got us out of the den." She had a lot more to say, but right now the flying was taking her full attention. Although… "You seriously just leave your key on your seat?"

Blink. "On the seat, inside of the sentient magical robot lion, inside of the hidden den guarded by killer wolves? Yeah, where else would I put it?"

He… actually made a pretty convincing case there. "Know what? Shut up, I'm flying."

Shrugging—very slightly, considering how badly it hurt, and she wasn't looking at him anyway—Pidge shut up. For now. Because something told him this conversation was not over.

*****

Around midday, Captain Sarial finally made it to the infirmary; Captain Randel and Lord Anhel had wanted a briefing on the fight in the meadow, which would've been easier to accomplish if she knew exactly what had happened in the meadow. Her first stop was to check on her injured scouts from the kyor-val fiasco. One of them was still in bad enough shape to be in intensive care; Hunk was in the opposite bed, out cold and snoring away. She got an update before moving on to the room the team was assigned to.

Miralna, who'd been guarding the entry when the captain left, seemed to have passed out at her post and been dragged to the next room over. She smiled faintly and made a note to have Anhel send backup. Guard duty in fact seemed to have gone poorly for everyone; the first thing she noticed upon actually entering the room was that Larmina wasn't there anymore. But the team was awake… and very soon, they were all staring at her. Daniel waved without sitting up, and Keith nodded a greeting.

"Captain."

She nodded back, giving Daniel a smile. "You could all look worse." They could all look better too, but they certainly knew that. "I just came from the critical care chamber, the orderlies think Hunk should be out of sedation within the hour."

Romelle sighed with a new wave of relief. "That's good to hear."

"Naroehna." Lance tried for a charming grin, though he wasn't feeling it.

"Yes, thank you." Vince didn't even try to smile, though he did feel slightly better.

"I don't suppose anyone wants to explain what in the five hells happened out there?"

Lance's attempt at a smile immediately dropped off; he and Sven exchanged silent grimaces as Vince and Daniel fielded the question.

"Nope."

"Not particularly."

That was about what the captain had expected, but it had been worth a try.

"Honestly I'm not even sure we know for sure, Captain." Keith sighed. It was all straightforward, wasn't it? They'd been attacked and damn near lost a fight with their dead friends trapped in an undead body. But it was too absurd to just say that when they couldn't wrap their own brains around the facts.

That didn't particularly surprise Sarial either. "Well, Captain Randel intends to increase patrols…"

"That's probably wise," Sven agreed.

"Probably." Yet Keith didn't like the sound of it. "I'd recommend they not engage if they spot him though. He's strong."

You don't say. She'd noticed that when the enemy took about twenty shots from the militia and still managed to flee intact. But the team didn't need snark right now, clearly. Instead she explained, "The guards' jurisdiction is the inside of the shelters." If they spotted him, there would be plenty of bigger problems. "The outside is the militia's responsibility, which is why I hoped for some more information about what's running around out there."

That was fair, but Keith couldn't quite get the words out at first. Romelle hesitated, then leaned forward in her seat. It hurt to see this… but she wasn't affected the way the others were. Perhaps that meant it was her duty to explain.

"It was a jaivur. A reanimated body."

Sarial stared at her blankly. A what? Of course it is. "Achyan ksha venkall'er."

Bet that means something Jace would say, Vince thought; Yellow gave a slight chuckle.

"Yes, more magical bullshit," Romelle agreed. "Though not the way the phrase usually comes up. This was Drules rather than lions."

"I'd hope so, given that it was trying to kill you." Frown. "He didn't look Drule." Though she hadn't gotten a very good look, the thing about the blue devils was that they were blue. He had been wearing Drule armor… but then, so was she.

"The body was human," Keith said quietly, but Daniel was sick of dancing around things. Easier to just rip the bandage off.

"Yeah it's just the zombie of our dead friend with our other dead friends stuck inside him. Total magical bullshit and totally not the lions, that's all the… fuck, what's the word, synka, sinkya, whatever."

The words sent another pang of guilt through Vince… and another growl from Yellow Lion. Who, if he didn't know better, he'd have thought was objecting to the totally not the lions part of that statement.

"Sinycka," Sarial said on reflex as she scrambled to process the rest of that. She only had the vaguest idea what a zombie was; they had not been aware the sinycka could raise the dead, and she absolutely did not want to think about it. Not regarding the team's dead friends, and certainly not regarding all the Arusians they'd captured and killed… "I won't ask you for any more backstory. My people will help fight."

Sven did appreciate that thought—and he'd certainly appreciated the militia's prior intervention. But they'd also seen the limitations. "I don't know how wise that would be. He shook off all our weapons and yours like nothing."

The captain gave him her best did we or didn't we save your ass look. "All the more reason not to turn down extra firepower."

She was right, but also wrong, and Keith cleared his throat. "I agree with Sven. We do need more firepower, Captain… and I think what that means is that we're going to have to use the lions. He's too strong to face on his own terms."

On which topic, the fact that they hadn't heard from Pidge was worrying him. A lot. But he was also certain if something had gone horribly wrong out there, they'd have heard about it via the lions, so…

Keith's statement had drawn startled looks, and Lance squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. The lions. Right. Flying. Not face to face with him. I can do that… he looked at Daniel and inhaled slowly. He couldn't just fall apart. The team he still had needed him.

Not that Daniel seemed much more confident, if for completely different reasons. "How exactly do we use the lions to fight one person?" He wanted to give Keith a look, but that would involve sitting up, and he could follow doctor's orders every once in a while. Also he was really, really tired. But it didn't make sense in his head. Missiles wouldn't lock, other targeting would be iffy, what the fuck even.

"I don't know," Keith admitted. "But I don't see how else we can match him."

"I don't like your answer."

Sigh. "To be honest, I don't either."

Allura shifted her icepack off her cheek just long enough to speak up. "The lions do things we can't even dream of often enough. I believe in them. And… in us."

…That wasn't exactly a concrete answer either, and they didn't even have their Paladin of Faith to back her up. But Keith nodded slowly. It was true that they still didn't know the lions' full capabilities. Maybe there would be something. "We have to try. Unless anyone has any other ideas?"

"Time machine?" Lance suggested. Get out of the arena with them this time… he knew it wasn't a serious suggestion, but he also wasn't joking.

Though it might as well have been a serious suggestion. Sarial, for one, wouldn't be shocked to learn Voltron had such a thing.

"…As nice as that would be, probably not." Allura replaced her icepack and sighed. She had plenty of things she would do with a time machine if she could.

"Nice? That's a horrible idea." Daniel glared around the room as best he could without sitting up. "Have none of you seen literally any time travel movies? Doctor Who we are not."

"Doctor… who?" Sarial echoed, tilting her head.

"Exactly. Doctor Who." Lance actually managed about half a snort at that, and Daniel had never been so happy to make Lance kind of sort of laugh.

Vince was just happy to have something else to think about for a few moments. "I think it's a fictional doctor who travels through time solving mysteries or something?" This wasn't his area of expertise. It wasn't that he was against the classics that had been running for centuries, but he liked modern series better. Trying to keep up with that much continuity just made him anxious.

"Close enough." Keith shrugged. "They were on… the 112th Doctor when we left Earth, I think. I lost count."

Sarial blinked. "I see." She absolutely did not see. Judging from Allura and Romelle's expressions, this was very much an Earthling thing… then again, Sven looked precisely as confused, if not more. Larmina is right, offworlders are weird.

Where was Larmina, anyway?

Vince gave her a wry grin. A few seconds of everything feeling normal was nice. "You'll get used to this, Captain Sarial."

"That sounds right." As confused as half the team looked, they did not look surprised.

"It'd be worse if Hunk was awake."

Now she couldn't help grinning too. "That sounds very right."

Keith gave half a grin himself, but it faded quickly. Hunk would've been giving him the third degree if he were here, for knowing anything about pop culture whatsoever. And Lance was here, and should've been doing the same… but he knew why it wasn't happening.

"Okay." Sarial straightened and stepped back towards the entrance. There was work to do. "I'll step up exterior patrols, but under orders to observe and not engage. If we see anything you'll be the first to know."

Nod. "Be careful out there, Captain."

"You also." She turned and left. And as she did so, watching the curtain ripple behind her, Keith could've sworn he felt a stronger rush of wind.

*****

As promised, Pidge had taken his seat back and parked, though it hadn't exactly been his own best example. He was still shaky. And somehow, he was not at all surprised when Larmina blocked his way out of the cockpit.

"Can whatever you have to say wait until we're back at the infirmary? I feel like hell."

"No, you stay feeling like hell while I tell you what an idiot you are."

He blinked. Not that he probably didn't deserve to be told that, probably more than once, but… "You don't look a thing like Keith. Move."

Larmina crossed her arms. "Know what? No. This is my planet you promised to protect, I absolutely have the authority to tell you off about trying to get yourself killed." She glanced around the cockpit. "And I have Green's permission."

…Of course she did. Pidge sighed and sank back into his chair. "Okay. Let me explain."

"Oh, this should be good."

"I'm a ninja. That means I'm trained to kill people before they know I'm there. I did not adequately take into account that the first human who ever gave a damn about me is no longer exactly a 'people'. I messed up. Fine. None of that is any of your business, because all you ever do is act like we should be grateful you're allowing us to risk our lives for your planet." His eyes narrowed. "You and your crap about offworlders can, in the words of us offworlders, fuck off."

That had probably been unfair, but he was absolutely not in the mood for this.

Larmina bristled. She'd thought she was starting to understand these people, and he wanted to go there? "The first human who ever cared about you, huh? Like you're the only person who's ever lost anyone?"

"I did not say that." What the hell would she know about it?

"You didn't have to." Glare. "I'm sorry you've lost a people. Meanwhile we were hiding like rats in the tunnels, losing everything, while you were just wandering the galaxy looking for our lions like they were some happy shiny scavenger hunt—"

Green Lion may have given Larmina permission for a lecture, but apparently she'd heard enough of where this was going. Because suddenly a roar shook the cockpit, and a second later they were both tumbling out of the lion's jaws into the moss.

"Ow…"

"Rude?"

"Enough! You have both suffered, in ways known and unknown," the lion growled. "It is not a competition. Will winning this battle of traumas protect this world? Will it heal your wounds? You are not enemies! And I believe you know this."

Pidge blinked, looking over at Larmina, who returned the look sheepishly. She had just flown a lion she clearly didn't know how to fly, and generally professed not to even like, to save him from an extremely bad idea. "…Maybe?"

"I know that," she said sullenly. "I didn't call him an enemy, I called him an idiot."

"Which I didn't technically argue with," he admitted.

Green purred. "There, you see? That's much better. The two of you could work quite well together, if you wanted to."

…Oh so that was where this was going. Pidge eyed her suspiciously. "Or if you wanted us to?"

"It is not my choice. But I think it is your time." Green lowered her head, peering down at them. "We will protect this world with all our power, but that power remains limited. The Defender is not yet complete."

Though they both heard the words, Larmina felt like the lion was staring directly at her. Yes, she'd known this would come, from the second she'd agreed to put that key in its place. "I want to protect Arus," she said quietly. "I want to protect what's left. But…" She couldn't find words for the doubts still churning in her chest, and finally abandoned the attempt and waved vaguely at Pidge. "With him, though?"

Pidge could tell just fine that he wasn't the real problem here, and snorted. "Yeah, sure. I agreed to help protect this planet. With her, though?"

The lion purred, exasperated yet affectionate. "You have both been deemed lesser by accidents of birth, things you did not choose. And you have both refused to submit to those badges of dishonor. This is why I called to you. Both of you. From stagnant, rigid prejudice, you rise as the winds. Against those who would rather you not exist, you seize your life! Yes, I would see you bond to me, and to each other… because the untamed winds all sing as one."

We both what now? Again they exchanged confused looks. But… Pidge hesitated. Somehow it almost made sense, when she put it like that.

Offworlders.

Humans.

Maybe he did get it.

Green had asked him to trust her when he'd bonded. The rest would come in time. And that had worked out alright so far, he supposed… no time to back out now.

"…Sure," he said quietly. "I mean, your standards are weird, but I said that when you wanted me too."

…And that left it to her. Larmina stared at the lion for a few moments longer, thinking about what she'd said. Did she really want this? But after all her fury and indignation, could she really refuse?

"Yes, cub. Your feelings cannot deny you the right to your choice."

She hadn't expected an answer at all; she definitely hadn't expected that one. The lion had refused to leave her alone all this time, but when it all came down to it… maybe that was what drove her forward. Her birthright, her blood, politics she'd had no hand in… all of them had denied her nearly every choice she ever could've had. But this one? Maybe it really was hers.

"Okay. Why not?"

She rested her hand on Green's claw.

—The wind surged, she ought to have been thrown across the den, but instead it seemed to circle back and surround her, steadying her, and she could see the forest around the den and a ghostly form darting through the trees, turning to meet her eyes, and they might've been her own eyes or they might have been a legend she'd never heard, and the winds were howling too loud for her to wonder, and a sharp pain shooting through her cheeks snapped her back to consciousness as the world washed out in a cyclone of golden dust—

Then she was looking up from the moss. When had she fallen? She had no idea; the wind had been all she could feel. "Whoa…" Pidge was staring at her as she staggered to her feet, and it wasn't his usual insolent stare. "What?"

"Your face…?"

…That wasn't really an improvement, but again she was pretty sure it was sincere. Turning back to the lion, she walked around one claw until she found a patch clean and shining enough to see her reflection. And it was… different. Reaching up to touch one of her cheeks, she shook her head in slight confusion. Confusion, but maybe not surprise. Maybe she'd known it all along, somewhere in the back of her mind. That after what had happened with Allura, it would have to be this way…

The Golden Mark had turned turquoise.

"It is done," Green Lion purred. "You are the Sentinel of Wind, Paladin of Spirit… Lifebinder."

…And there was the surprise. "Lifebinder?" Larmina echoed, looking up at the lion in shock. "Why Lifebinder?"

"Life and the winds are intrinsically bound together." The lion tilted her head slightly, purring. "It is no accident that I was hidden in a forest."

"No, I mean why that specific name?"

Green hesitated for a moment. "We do not choose the names, cub. They are found within you, and sometimes the meaning is not clear until far later. Shall I search your soul for a different name? I can make no promises."

"…No." Looking at her reflection in the lion's claw again, she reached up and touched her turquoise markings. "No, I… I'm fine with Lifebinder."

Daughter of the Forest.

You should have been told on your wedding day.

The name of the goddess was Avira the Lifebinder…

A completely insane thought was rearing its head. Insane, yet everything seemed to fit.

What if it isn't the lions that were connected with the Usurpers?

Her head was spinning with so many thoughts, even more than she'd started the day with. But finally they landed on one that was a bit more concrete. "Um, Pidge."

"Yeah?"

"I have a lot of opinions about lion-y stuff right now, but before we do any of that, wasn't that the tunnel entrance? You know, that your evil undead friend was trying to murder you right next to?"

Had she really needed to phrase it like that? He opened his mouth to object… then realized what she'd just said and his eyes widened. "Yeah. It was."

"…We need to go tell the others."

"Yeah. We do." It was still far from over… exchanging nods, they ran for the shuttle.