Chapter Text
Zarkon snarled, and Allura pressed her heel down harder to keep him pinned as she fastened the handcuffs. “Give it up, Zarkon.” she hissed, pulling back on his cuffed arms. His armour grated against itself where her blows had shattered it, and later she might feel a bit bad about enjoying the sound it made but for the moment Allura relished it. “You’ve lost.”
“Never.” he growled, and Allura barely suppressed a laugh.
“Never? Look around.” she gestured at the scene in front of them. Shiro was wrestling a mostly unconscious druid into a cryo-pod, Keith was cuffing the remains of Zarkon’s elite troops with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly necessary, Hunk and Lance were standing guard over the soldiers who had willingly surrendered, and Pidge was down below coordinating their allies in managing the remainder of Zarkon’s forces. “Your robeasts are dead, your druids frozen, and your officers in chains.” She tugged a bit on Zarkon’s arms, and got a growl for her efforts. “Tell me, oh mighty Emperor. What part of this looks like victory from where you are?”
“The part where you have yet to kill me.” he spat. Allura moved her heel up to the most severely broken part of his backplate, where she’d stuck him to drive him to the ground in the first place, and pressed there.
“I will not sink to your level, Zarkon.” she said, the words dripping with icy disdain. “Voltron will dismantle everything you have built by conquest and kept by force. We will shatter your empire as I have shattered your armour, and you will be alive to see it done.”
Keith prodded the last of his cuffed prisoners into a rough line, then made a threatening gesture with his bayard before turning and walking over. Allura inclined her head to him briefly as he approached. Of all her Paladins, only Keith and Shiro had been wounded by Zarkon himself. And really, this was a confrontation she’d known was coming since the day Lance stood in front of her and told them all, indirectly, what exact shade of monstrous Zarkon had become.
Keith came to a stop at a conversational distance, and held himself tall. “Do you know who I am, Zarkon?” he asked, his voice flat.
“I know enough.” Zarkon spat. “You’re a traitor to your people, the lowest scum imaginable. It’s no wonder the altean bitch made you a Paladin.” Allura yanked sharply on Zarkon’s arms, and the galra under her heel snarled in pain. Keith reached up and removed his helmet, large blotches of his skin fading from his habitual purple to their true tone, pale and altean.
“Recognize me now?” he asked again, tone cold and furious. With the set of his jaw, the purple blood seeping from his split lip, the helmet tucked under his left arm and sword held easily in his right hand... he looked every bit as intimidating as the Red Paladin should. Allura felt a swell of pride, and fought to keep a smile off her face.
“You.” Zarkon growled. “My mongrel.” he made as if to stand, and Allura dug her heel into the broken armour between his shoulder blades to keep him on the ground.
“Yours?” Keith bared his teeth, deactivating his bayard and hanging it on his hip. “I’m not your anything.” he lifted his freed hand to the collar which sat snugly over his flight suit, and curled a finger under it. “Not your lover, and certainly not your property.” The sharp red and white nails which had manifested on his suit’s fingertips cut easily through the thick fabric when he jerked his hand down, and he flung the now-broken collar down on the ground in front of Zarkon’s face. “I belong to no-one.”
Keith turned, and Allura couldn’t help but smile a little as he started stalking away. He’d come so far from the frightened, hesitant child who could barely look her in the eye.
“You’ll never be their equal.” Zarkon said loudly, not shouting but simply raising his voice to be sure Keith would hear him. “You can remove your collar, but you can never change that.”
Keith didn’t even break stride, but Lance waved his bayard in the air for her attention. “Hey, Princess.” he called. “Are you sure I’m not allowed to shoot his dick off?”
Allura rolled her eyes, but her small smile remained. Keith put his helmet back on, and walked back to stand guard over his rows of prisoners. He was her Paladin, through and through, and if he ever should think that his heritage or upbringing made him unworthy, well, Lance wouldn’t let those doubts persist.