VICTORY / DEATH*

lotor  balks:  a  momentary  pause  that  gives  way  to  the  softness  of  his  laughter,  spilling  out  lightly  through  the  folds  of  his  mouth. “does  it  really?”  the  fondness,  delicate  in  the  wake  of  his  laughter,  remains,  a  thoughtful  tilt  to  his  remaining  smile. “you’re  the  only  one  who’d  say  such  things  to  me,  kaiera,”  he  says,  surprised  but  growing  accustomed  to  kaiera’s  feverish  sense  of  excitement. “unfortunately,  as  much  as  the  idea  is  exciting  ...  with  all  this  work,  i  don’t  think  we  can  go  immediately.”  wrapping  his  fingers  around  his  chin  and  lingering  over  his  lips,  the  shine  to  his  eyes  becomes  sly. “though  ...  i  can  certainly  find  a  way  to  make  it  ...  quicker.  let  me  --”  he  begins,  already  trying  to  navigate  through  his  work  when  his  words  fail  him,  trapped  in  kaiera’s  (what  seems  to  be)  instinctive  use  of  skinship.  clearing  his  throat,  lotor  pats  kaiera’s  back  in  an  almost  stuttered  motion,  awkward  but  learning. “then  ...  do  that.  within  that  time,  i’ll  try  to  get  this  work  done.” 

hands settles gently  ‘pon  prince’s  shoulders,  patting  them  firmly  before  kaiera  moves  to  settles  themselves  atop  the  nearest  surface.  ‘ prophetic  dreams are ..  difficult ,  to decipher,  without  an  alchemix  oracle  present   but  —  i  think ..  what  i  feel , ’   they  pause ,  gaze  distant ,  lost  in  the  memory  of  their  revery .   fingers  touch  the  air ,  dropping  once  they’ve  traced  an  invisible  shape.  ‘ you  discover … something  new.  different –  a  planet .. ?  mayhaps  or ..  a  person. ’     they  are  silent  for  long  moments ,  before  blinking ,  &  returning  to  their  former  energies.  ‘  prince  lotor  perhaps  we  will discover  a  new  world  together !  can  you  imagine ?  ’

‘     affected ?    i’d   prefer  it   if   you’d    say   how   it    saved      me .     ’   hybrid   replies   promptly ,       emotions   naked   in   the    flash   OF   BITING   PAIN    coloring    indigo   hues                feelings   he’s   been   carrying     silently     in   his    soul    for   a  long   time .        lotors   dismissal ,     analytic   stance   on   things    reminded    keith   of    earlier   years             back   in  time   when   shiro   hadn’t   been   there    to    REACH   OUT    TO   THE    LONELY   OUTCAST .         ‘                     we  can’t   be   strong   all   the   time .     i   hope  you  know   that .      ’      frowning  keith   studied   the   royal     OPENLY    &    went   through   their   conversation   in  his   head ,       wondering     if   he’d   missed   a   clue    or   hidden   meaning   somewhere .       ‘    it’s   not   about   a   lesson   or   giving   yourself    more   credit ,    lotor .      it’s   about   how    LONELINESS     destroys    you .       ’     brutally    honest     as   always   keith   simply    said   what’s   on   his    mind     &      kept   his    voice   lowered                 a   private    mantle   laid   around   their   conversation ;    an   embrace   of    kindred   spirits      glowing .

analyzing     someone   cunning   &     well   spoken   as   the  prince   who’s   used   to    WEARING   MASKS  /   PROTECTIVE   LAYERS    was  a   difficult   task ;     yet   keith   found    similarities    ——     saw   edges     shimmer      through   he   felt   familiar    with .        smile   lost ,     a   sharp   edge   to    lips    now    he    HISSED   SILENTLY    as    past   &   the   here   and   now   overlapsed .       (    I  DO  NOT  WANT   TO   LEARN  IT                      HE  HAD   SAID ;   )        but  why ?       was   the   thought   of   having   someone   to   lean   on   not   a   desire   of   the   taller   hybrid ?   brows   furrowed   gaze    GROWS  MORE  INTENSE ,    MORE   SEARCHING  as   if    an   answer   will    somewhere   be   in    the   regal    curves ,    edges     &       facets   of   lotor’s    mimic .        sighing    the   raven    gave   up   for    now                        tongue   nearly     cut    open      by   the    razor    like   question    burning   on   it    to   ask    why .          was    how   it    affected    him    bad                        was   he   too   kind ?     too   soft ?         he   had   never   considered   himself    any   of    that ;           his    mind   forgiving    but    his    heart   &     soul    will      NEVER   FORGET . 

palm  placed   on   neck ,             cool    glove         against    heated   skin    the   paladin   stared    on   the   ground                sharp   fangs   on   display ,       answering   in   kind   to   lotors ;            he’s    ALWAYS    had    those    yet    he   still      resented      how    wild   it    must    make   him    look .     it   was   a   different    angle   that    he   had    missed  ,         he   suddenly    REALIZED   &     looked     at    the   royal     from    the    corner   of   indigo   hues .        ‘        is   it      because     of   the     world      you’ve   been   living   in  ?   ’    he   asked ,          sure   of  it   already .        it   made   sense .       (    A   WORLD   OF   DARKNESS ,    LONELINESS ,    VIOLENCE ;    )           pupils   turning   into   slits    at    the    thought    of   what    the   prince    had   maybe    gone   through                       a      happy   family      life   surely   never ,     just   like    keith   for    the   most    part   of    his   life .          but ,     he’   s    NEVER   BEEN   SAFE .      sure ,     keith   got   into   fights .       but   lotor ?       he   was   always    in    danger .     he  could   understand   why   he   didn’t    want    to   EXPERIENCE   KINDNESS    now ;       mind   clear     &     heart   aching   for    the   royal    surprisingly . 

   ‘    you   couldn’t   be   SOFT . .    it   would’ve   destroyed   you .     ’   sharp   mind   &    sharp   tongue              words      brutally   honest     yet   not   meant   to   hurt .     he   understood .   

“ha,” lotor places his hand over his mouth, fingers splayed over the distant quality of his smile. “saved then, if you’re so insistent,” lotor relents, quietly mulling over the tar-like sweetness matted over his tongue to hear this correction -- a kindness and love known distantly, like the way scars burn even after being healed -- he already tires of it. “i know that,” he grits out, a sigh of a sound, “but knowing and doing are two different things, paladin.” 

he is wary of this conversation: once tied to the observation of keith and now is keith watching him, looking for a hairline crack in thousands of years of armor, all ice without the heat. lotor doesn’t like being the subject, doesn’t like having to unravel the twisted knots of his past -- and the tips of his lips twitch in the only form of showing discomfort, his gaze sharp. “oh, does it?” lotor isn’t sure if he’s teasing or being spiteful, every word like glass gnashing between his teeth, cutting the insides of his cheeks. “i couldn’t imagine.” 

couldn’t imagine a life in small beats: of his governess, drawing the line of teacher in the sand; of his cat, kova, his only traces of a friend -- further, a soon to be destroyed planet; further, the exiled alteans, who he later had to exploit with a burden insurmountable; further, the connections he made too hastily that could could only see him as too galran, too much of his father’s son, too much of a monster; further, his generals who looked to him with the burden of expectation, for the future he wasn’t confident he could create; further the paladins -- ah. it was all so exhausting, pointless, trust a frayed rope on either end. 

a hiss of his own passes through him, unkind in its barbed edges. sure, maybe lotor deserves it -- poking fun at an observation he could have kept to himself, of a life forever “saved” by the action of another person, but he didn’t imagine he would be caught in this snare of other clear conclusions, of someone trying to reach out in understanding -- so there is a likeness, after all. a transparency that even he can’t hide. “maybe,” lotor says, expression foreign to him, a smile soft in its vulnerability. “though it has already destroyed me multiple times,” he confesses, “because it was the hardest lesson to learn.” the creases around his eyes make him look older -- 10,000 years, and for what?

“i’ve heard of it,” lotor says coyly, gingerly pressing the pads of his fingertips to the gift, curious at his best, playful at his worst. “though what i’ve heard … differs.” he tilts his head, inquisitive, letting his words drag slowly from him, like a long-lasting game, even in the face of her gift – but he can’t seem to help himself, a chaotic energy to his mind as unforgiving as the sharp slice of a blade. “maybe there is some nuance to this …” he pauses, eyes widening, rounding, softening in the reveal, distracted as his lips pull upward, child-like and innocent. 

“…holiday.” he breathes out, game forgotten in his elation – few things renew the quiver of excitement in him, but of course it would be something altean, more beloved than anything else. “are those … altean ground worms? allura, they must have been near impossible to procure, i’m humbled by your gift.” his hand hovering over his face in his embarrassment, lotor clears his throat. “that’s why, i have to apologize – i don’t have anything to give you in return. i was told that this holiday was in the purpose of … giving gifts to people you’re interested in courting, and, well, i didn’t want to overstep, or confuse, of course. but, ah –” he rubs the back of his neck, hesitant in the receiving of his gift, now. “i feel i must give you something of equal value, to make up for it.” 

“shiro,” lotor amends, sly in the rounding of it on his tongue, like it could shift quickly on a passing fancy. it’s strange to hold something familiar. champion, to one’s name? it seems more a defense, cold and sharp and unwilling, than a relinquishment, a weakness in the form of companionship on shiro’s end, but people are their titles, shiro is the black paladin ... captain, leader, champion ... to be a name is to be a friend, an ally. looking at shiro with a dissecting gaze, lotor realizes such thoughts are often not in congruence with others; rarely on the same plane of understanding, so he lets that name sit in his fangs uncomfortably, stuck. 

“i apologize,” lotor says, “i meant merely i also respect that you are only torn up and not dead, which would have been the average assumption given, well ... you were only a human pilot.” making a shrug with the pulling back of his shoulders, lotor concedes that his compliment is of a strange form, more troubling than it is comforting to the black paladin, whose conflict is stressed in the tautness of his face.