Chapter Text
Ever since Voltron’s last battle with Zarkon, Keith had felt that something about himself was…off. Now he could definitely confirm it, tracing the dark blotches of purple stretching across his bare chest.
Zarkon’s witch, Haggar, had managed to completely immobilise Voltron. Keith could vividly recall the strange, bright purple sparks that had shot out from her hands. When the paladins were struck, he immediately felt a searing pain course through both his own body and his lion. It was as if all of his energy was being leeched away, and Keith could feel his own consciousness slipping dangerously from his grasp. Somehow though, he’d managed to hold on.
“Paladins, respond!” Allura’s urgent order crackled through their helmets. A few pained groans gave reassurance that they were all alive, at the very least.
Keith, however, had remained silent. His teeth were fiercely clenched, and beads of sweat pricked up from his tense forehead. An unknown pain radiated from the centre of his sternum – as if someone were driving a blunt object into him, pushing firm against the resistance of his bones.
“Ugh, that was too close…” Pidge groaned.
“Yeah, I don’t think Blue’s feeling too hot either.” Lance added.
“We need to get out of here and regroup,” Shiro commanded, though there was a clear strain to his voice as well. “Is everyone able to fly their lion back towards the castle?”
Keith gave a tense grunt in affirmation, swallowing the pain still rippling through his chest. It seemed to be dulling down, if only a little. Whatever that witch had hit them with, Keith’s body clearly wasn’t coping with it very well. He wondered if, being Galran magic, it was somehow affecting him more severely – his fellow paladins seemed to be exhausted, sure, but not in any sort of lingering pain like he was.
Even after the battle, the sharp ache refused to fully disappear. Keith’s hand rubbed gingerly at the spot, wincing slightly when he applied a little too much pressure on it.
“Hey man, you alright there?” Lance gently clapped a hand over the red paladin’s shoulder.
Keith quickly straightened himself, masking his pained expression with his usual scowl. “Yeah, just a bit sore.” He massaged his own shoulder, as if to reinforce the statement.
“I’ll say,” Hunk groaned from next to them, lethargy heavy in his voice. “I think my muscles will be recovering for a whole week after that punishment.”
“And what about that weird purpley-blasty thing? It was like all my energy had been sucked right out of me!”
“Dude, right?! It felt like I was back at the garrison, when they’d make us run laps first thing in the morning to ‘wake us up’!”
“Ugh, don’t even remind me of that!” Lance chuckled, reminiscing over the memory with Hunk.
Keith took the opportunity to split away from the two of them, instead making his way over to the Black Lion. He wanted to ask Shiro about the strange blast, and find out if he’d experienced anything similar.
Unfortunately, Keith wasn’t able to find out. The Black Lion’s mouth gaped wide to reveal the empty pilot’s seat where Shiro should have been. It wasn’t pleasant to recall how he’d felt in that moment, Keith mused. He was forever thankful that they’d found his brother, the true Black Paladin, since then. Keith knew that Voltron was in much better hands now, with Shiro as their leader again and Keith…helping everyone in his own way. He was thankful that Kolivan didn’t question him when he asked to join the Blade of Marmora.
He remembers, after the shock of Shiro’s absence had set in, eventually returning to his room. His eyes were hazed over with a myriad of emotions – anger, frustration, fear. He quickly blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, instead walking to the bathroom to remove his paladin armour. After unclipping the white plates, Keith began peeling away the sweat-soaked bodysuit from his aching skin. He shucked the suit off at his feet and kicked it into the corner, now standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but his briefs. It was then that something about his reflection caught his eye – a strange, dark mark in the centre of his chest. It was purple and blotchy, and Keith assumed it was probably some sort of bruise.
What the hell kind of spell can even do that? He wondered to himself, gently poking at the mark with his finger. It was still very tender. Keith simply shrugged it off and went to the dresser near his bed, pulling out a clean black t-shirt from one of the drawers. If it was a bruise, of course it would be sore – but it would also go away on its own eventually. It definitely wasn’t something worth worrying the team about.
A few weeks later, however, Keith was starting to feel like maybe the mark was something worth worrying about after all. It had only started out small, roughly the size of his thumbprint. But like a flower, the mark had blossomed across his chest, spreading over his pectorals and almost reaching down to his bellybutton. Keith pulled at the skin there nervously, stretching it in front of the mirror with dread in his eyes. He couldn’t deny what it reminded him of – it was a decidedly Galran shade of purple.
It wasn’t as if Keith was unaware of his heritage. After passing the Trials of Marmora, he had learned that he was part Galra. He wasn’t sure how much, but he assumed that it must have been pretty small considering how human he looked. Staring at the expanse of purple skin creeping slowly down his stomach, however, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore.
A sudden knock at his door jolted Keith from his thoughts.
“Keith, you coming out for breakfast?” Shiro called from behind the bedroom door.
“Uh yeah,” Keith replied in a panic, quickly buttoning his jeans and fishing through his drawers for a clean shirt. “Just give me five minutes!”.
Upon finding none, he picked a shirt off the ground and sniffed at it. Smelled clean enough.
“Alright, but don’t take too long!” Shiro’s voice seemed to get quieter at the end, as if he’d already started walking off. Keith sighed out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.
As more time passed the mark continued to grow, snaking around Keith’s waist and edging onto his collarbones. He’d started to become very good at finding excuses to stay in his paladin armour around his friends, but he knew he couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Ignoring it clearly wasn’t making the problem go away, but Keith simply couldn’t stomach the thought of telling everyone. Sure, it took some persuading, but they were all pretty accepting now of the fact that he was part Galra – but that’s only because he didn’t look like it. What would happen when his entire body was purple? When he sprouted furry ears? A tail, perhaps? He could never expect them to accept him like that. He didn’t even think he could accept himself like that. Keith knew he couldn’t just do nothing anymore, but telling his teammates was out of the question.
Instead, he turned to the only other people who knew about his heritage – the Blade of Marmora. As Galrans themselves, perhaps they would have knowledge about part-Galrans, or the weird magic that started this transformation in the first place. So Keith pushed his friends away – now that Shiro was back, it was easier to find excuses to exclude himself from the team. There were too many paladins anyway, and he knew he could be helpful to their mission through other means. At least, that was the rationale that Keith used to justify the decision to himself.
He told Kolivan about the mark after about a month of fighting with the blades. It had been a quiet day, following a less-than-successful mission the day before. They reported the failure back to the castle, as per usual protocol.
“…Princess Allura said that the team misses your presence.” Kolivan began, sitting at the dining table next to Keith. His hood was pulled over his head, and he seemed to be far more interested in swirling the liquid in his glass than drinking it.
“She would say that.” Keith huffed, slouching further in his chair.
“I have no problem with you working alongside us,” Kolivan shifted so that he was facing Keith directly as he continued “but if you’re simply here to avoid some kind of emotional conflict with your teammates, then I’m not going to let you stay just so that I can get roped into your petty problems as well.”
“That isn’t…!” Keith’s face twisted at the accusation, before taking a calming breath and placing his glass on the table. “…That’s not the reason I wanted to join the Blade of Marmora.”
Kolivan cocked his eyebrow expectantly, urging him to elaborate.
“Well, the last time we fought Zarkon directly, we were hit by some kind of…magic. I don’t know. Everyone else seemed to get over it just fine, but something else happened to me. I came here because I wanted to ask you about it, but I didn’t really know how to bring it up.”
“What do you mean by ‘something else’, exactly?” Kolivan’s eyes scanned over Keith, as if looking for any visual clues.
Keith opened his mouth to explain, but found himself fumbling for the words. Sighing, he instead removed his hood and pulled the collar of his blade uniform down, revealing the tell-tale purple splotches on his neck. Kolivan moved closer, inspecting them with sharp yellow eyes.
“This ‘magic’ you were hit with…” he looked back up at Keith, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “What effect did it have on everyone else at the time?”
“Well, we were piloting Voltron when it happened. Zarkon’s witch shot at us with some kind of purple lightning…stuff, and it was like all of our energy was being drained. Our lions, too.”
“And then you…turned purple?”
“Oh uh, no! I mean! It was only a small dot at first, right here.” Keith pointed to the bone in the centre of his chest. “I thought it was just a bruise at first, but then it started spreading.”
“I see. Does it hurt at all?”
“I guess my skin feels a little tingly? But I wouldn’t say it’s painful.”
Kolivan seemed to be nodding to himself a little, as if pondering Keith’s situation. “If I were to tell you my first thought, based on your description of the spell itself…I’d guess that it was some sort of anti-quintessence magic.”
Keith’s eyebrows knotted at the statement.
“Well to put it simply, quintessence can be regarded as the purest form of energy. It is used in the majority of Galran technology, but has also been known to carry various other properties as well. What you described would fit that of a quintessence-draining spell, although…” Kolivan’s eyes scanned over Keith’s neck once again, despite the fact that it was no longer exposed. “I couldn’t tell you how that explains the effect it appears to have had on you.”
At that, Keith felt an iron weight sink in his stomach. He had joined the Blade of Marmora hoping they could tell him how to fix whatever was happening to his body. If even Kolivan didn’t know what was wrong with him…
“Considering your heritage, I’d say that your human appearance was somehow related to the presence of quintessence within your body. If that were the case, it’d explain why the witch’s magic triggered these changes.”
Keith nodded blankly, unsure how to respond to the information in any meaningful way.
“As far as reversing the transformation goes, my only idea would be to expose your body to quintessence somehow, to reverse the draining process. However,” Kolivan caught Keith’s gaze and stared firmly as he spoke. “It is of no concern to the Blade of Marmora whether your condition is resolved or not. You can continue to fight with us, but don’t expect any special assistance in the matter.”
“Yes I…I understand.”
With that, Kolivan stood from his seat and began to leave. He stopped at the doorway, however, and spoke without turning back around to face Keith. “It is also my opinion that you should consider returning to your teammates, human or not. You’re not ruthless enough to be a blade. And, as the princess says, your presence is missed.”
--
Keith’s eyes shook back into focus, pulling him out of his memories. He still stood alone in his room, which was much smaller than the one he’d had back at the castle. Idly, his hands traced the border of the purple marks across his neck. They were definitely higher than the last time he checked. On his desk, a sharp beeping noise suddenly chirped out from the small device that sat atop it. It was some sort of communication device that Coran had given him before he left the team, if Keith ever felt like contacting them. So far, however, he’d avoided using it as much as he could manage. The team would occasionally send messages, asking how he was doing or what he was up to with the Blade of Marmora, and he would mostly stick to simple, one-word responses. He hoped they’d give up trying eventually – it was easier if he kept his distance.
Despite pondering his urge to just ignore it entirely, Keith picked up the device and opened the message to read. Considering the time, he was surprised anyone was sending him one in the first place.
‘HEY, IT’S LANCE.’
Keith paused and reread the first line of the message again. Usually, he’d receive messages from the entire team, so receiving one from just Lance was pretty unexpected. Especially Lance.
‘EVERYONE ELSE HAS GONE TO BED BUT IT’S BORING HERE WITHOUT MY RIVAL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW? YOU’D BETTER NOT BE SLACKING WITH YOUR TRAINING, OR IT’LL BE WAY TOO EASY TO BEAT YOU WHEN YOU COME BACK!’
Keith rolled his eyes. He placed the communicator back on his desk; as if he was going to dignify such a stupid message with a response.
Suddenly, the device beeped at him again. Keith bit his lip. Don’t look at the message, you’re supposed to be avoiding everyone. Don’t look at the mess-
‘DUDE YOU REALISE THAT THE COMMUNICATOR SENDS READ RECEIPTS, RIGHT? I KNOW YOU SAW MY MESSAGE. GUESS THAT MEANS YOU *HAVE* BEEN SLACKING ON YOUR TRAINING! ;)’
Keith’s eyebrows quirked up incredulously. Who does Lance even think he’s talking to? As if he’d be slacking with his training. Before he knew it, his fingers were moving on their own.
‘as if i would be slacking on my training!!! if anyone were to do that it would definitely be you!!!!!! also what is ;) ?’
Keith hit ‘send’, before his brain could even process what he’d just done.
“…Shit.” He groaned to himself, flopping onto his bed and burying his face into his pillow. Why did he have to be baited so easily? Before he could get too far with that train of thought, however, the device in his hand vibrated again.
‘SO YOU DO KNOW HOW TO TYPE! AND IT’S A WINKING FACE, LOOK AT IT SIDEWARDS!’
Keith turned his head – he couldn’t really see it.
‘I’M GLAD YOU’RE STILL WORKING HARD THOUGH! IT WOULDN’T BE VOLTRON IF ONE OF US FELL BEHIND. THAT’S WHY I’VE GOTTA KEEP WORKING HARD TOO, YOU KNOW?’
The corner of Keith’s mouth curved up a little; Lance was the same as ever. Talking with him like this brought back familiar memories of everyone working hard together. He felt a soft warmth blooming in his chest – quickly, he quashed it with a terse frown. He wasn’t a part of that team anymore; they didn’t need him. And if they could see him now, they certainly wouldn’t want him either. He scratched absently at his neck.
‘im not a part of voltron anymore though. you already have five paladins so you dont need me anyway. im useful to the blade of marmora so its better that im not there.’
It was kind of true, Kolivan had said that he had done some good work on the last couple of missions. Though he’d also pushed the point that he still thought too much like a paladin. Keith clenched his teeth as he pressed ‘send’.
After a few seconds, the communicator vibrated once again, though the ringing sound was slightly different this time. Thinking little of it, Keith tapped the screen, and was extremely alarmed when Lance’s face was suddenly projected in front of him.
“Keeeeiiiithhhh!!!” Lance’s nasally voice whined through the device.
Startled, Keith quickly flung it at the floor.
“Hey, what did you just do? Did you throw me on the floor?! Keith, answer meeee!”
Why did the communicator have a video call option? And why did Lance have to go and actually use it? Keith looked down at his very shirtless, very purple body; he absolutely couldn’t let Lance see him like this–
“I can see your feeeeet!!”
Desperately, Keith ripped the blanket off of his bed and draped it over his head. He quickly pulled the mass of fabric forward to make absolutely sure his skin was hidden by it, before picking the communicator up again. He gave the holographic image of Lance a frazzled huff, blowing strands of hair out of his eyes.
Lance chuckled, smiling brightly as Keith was able to more clearly take in the projected image before him. It looked like Lance was sitting by himself on the sofa in the common room. He was wearing his regular jacket over the black bodysuit of his paladin armour – Keith supposed they must have been on some sort of mission today.
“Oh wow, loving the fashion statement! Do you have a name for it? I’m thinking ‘bedroom chic’.” Lance’s lilted voice sliced through Keith’s train of thought.
“Shut up,” Keith groaned. “I was in bed before you decided it was a good time for a video call!”
“Oh whatever, it’s not like the beauty rest was doing much for you anyway.” Lance winked playfully. “So anyway, how’s blade-life?”
Keith shrugged beneath the blanket. “Fine, I guess. I’ve been pretty busy with mission-stuff, can’t talk too much about it though.”
“Oh, that’s still pretty cool!”
There was a bit of an awkward silence between them, until an unexpectedly serious look came over Lance’s face. “But…would you say it’s better than Voltron-life?”
Keith’s voice caught in his throat. How was he supposed to respond to that? He wasn’t even entirely sure of the answer himself, but that wasn’t something that he wanted Lance to know either.
“…Yeah, sure.”
Lance went very quiet. Keith could feel deep blue eyes boring holes into him, even through the hologram.
“…Why do you say things like that?”
“Things like what?”
“Things you don’t really mean.”
Keith bristled at the statement. “What do you know about what I do or don’t mean? I wasn’t meant to be a paladin anymore. Every lion already has its rightful pilot, so nobody needs me there! At least the Blade of Marmora actually needs me!”
“We both need you, you’re a valuable teammate!”
“But I can’t form Voltron with everyone, and I can’t pilot the castle, so there’s no reason for me to be there!”
“You’re allowed to stay because you want to!”
“I left Voltron because I wanted to!”
Keith’s breath was ragged from yelling, even if it had been at a whisper-volume to avoid waking the other blades. He waited expectantly for Lance to hang up on him, but surprisingly, it didn’t happen.
“…No. You left because you thought we wanted you to.”
Keith stared hard at the floor, desperately avoiding eye contact with Lance.
“I would ne–WE would never…want you to leave. Why would you even think that, Keith?”
Because I’m turning into a Galra! His brain screamed.
“I don’t know.” He muttered dumbly instead.
Another awkward silence followed, this one feeling like it lasted for hours. Once again, it was Lance that finally spoke first.
“So…Allura mentioned that there was a lead on a shipment of raw quintessence headed for one of the nearby Galran outposts. She said that when she discussed it with Kolivan, he was thinking of sending you for the mission.”
Keith’s ears perked up at the information.
“I don’t know if he’s mentioned it to you yet, but anyway, uh…I’m being stationed there to help out too. I’ll be in Red, so maybe you might want to see her again? She always talks about how she misses being piloted by you. We could even go for a spin in her together, if you want.”
Keith pulled his blanket a little higher, trying to conceal the fond smile that spread gently across his face. “Yeah I…guess I’d like that.”
“Really?” Lance seemed genuinely surprised by the response. “Oh wait, you…meant about piloting Red again, right?”
“Yeah? What else would I mean?”
“Oh, uh! Nothing, never mind!” Lance shook his head – was he blushing? It was hard for Keith to tell through the hologram.
“Anyway I’d better go – I think Shiro is making us get up super early tomorrow and unlike you, some of us do need our beauty rest!” Lance winked, clearly back to his usual self again.
“Alright, good luck with that.” he replied sarcastically.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to m-” Keith tapped the ‘end call’ button before Lance could finish.
He placed the communicator back on the desk beside his bed and laid back with a deep sigh. All of the feelings about his teammates that he’d worked so hard to suppress were bubbling back up again now, forming a lump in his throat. Keith swallowed it thickly, rolling uncomfortably over onto his side. He winced a little at the movement when he felt how sore his joints were – guess he’d been pushing himself a little too hard lately.
Training makes it easier to clear my head. His brain supplemented, and he’d certainly had a lot of thoughts he wanted to push away recently. The purple mark was only worsening by the day, and he was starting to notice other small changes in his body too. He could swear that his mullet was getting thicker.
On the other hand, the information that there were plans to intercept a shipment of raw quintessence was hopeful news. If they were successful, Keith could maybe, finally, get his body back to normal. And then maybe…he could even go back to team Voltron again.
“If they’d even have me.” Keith muttered to himself. And then there was the matter of seeing Lance again. So long as the mark didn’t spread any further, he’d be alright. So long as he could just conceal it for a little bit longer…
--
“HAAH!” Keith shouted, ducking swiftly from a punch thrown at his jaw.
He shifted his right foot forward, jabbing at the figure in front of him with the hilt of his knife. The fellow blade leapt backwards, evading the blow. They tightened their grip on the staff in their hand, before charging at Keith forcefully.
Keith held his knife up defensively in front of his face, clenching his teeth at the strength behind the blow. He pushed against the staff, managing to repel it and quickly pivot around his sparring partner yet again.
In doing so, however, Keith felt a sudden pop in his knee at the movement. He staggered a little, his footing weakened from the pain. His opponent seized the opening, sweeping their staff beneath Keith’s feet and sending him crashing to the floor.
As they approached his crumpled form, Keith’s arm suddenly whipped out and stabbed his knife at their feet. They hopped back just in time to avoid it, but failed to anticipate the swipe of Keith’s leg from behind.
With both of them now on the floor, Keith managed to knock the staff away and pin the fellow blade in one swift movement. Panting, he held his knife at his opponent’s throat; his hair was fanned out around his face, bangs clinging to the sweat across his forehead.
“I yield.” The figure said plainly. Keith withdrew his weapon and eased off of them.
Standing up, he could feel his chest heaving from exhaustion. He liked that feeling, of being completely burnt out past his own physical limits. He could still feel an uncomfortable ache in his knee, though.
“Nice recovery.” Kolivan said, catching Keith’s attention from the doorway.
The other blade picked himself up from the floor, giving a slight nod at Kolivan before exiting the training room. Now it was just the two of them, an air of anticipation hanging as Keith waited for him to continue.
“There’s been news of a Galran cargo fleet passing through the Proxima Quadrant on its way to one of the major outposts in the area. The ships are rumoured to be carrying a large supply of raw quintessence to be converted into enemy ship fuel.”
Kolivan pulled a small display from his pocket, which Keith surmised to be a map of the cargo route. He pointed to a specific spot along the dotted travel line and continued.
“If we can intercept their movement here, it could be a major victory for the resistance.”
Keith examined the map in detail, noting information such as the number of ships, the expected crew detail, and especially drawing his own attention to the cargo contents.
“Why is this the best point to intercept their ships from?”
“Here, the fleet will have to pass by Magna Rotauri. It’s a planet surrounded by asteroid fields and other space debris clusters, making it more difficult for their ships to manoeuvre around and providing the perfect cover for an ambush. In addition, Magna Rotauri’s magnetic field typically causes interference with long-distance communication signals. We can utilise this to ensure their crew aren’t able to call for back-up.”
Keith nodded, impressed. It was a really good plan. “And you…want me on the mission?”
Kolivan raised an eyebrow at the presumption. “Well, aren’t we confident? But yes, I’ve discussed the mission with Princess Allura, and put forth your name as a candidate. As it will be a small stealth team cooperating with one of the Voltron paladins, your past experience working alongside them will be of great benefit.”
There was an odd pause at the end of Kolivan’s sentence, as if he’d intended to say more but held his tongue instead.
“And…What about the cargo we recover? Do we have a use in mind for all of the quintessence they’re carrying?”
Kolivan’s eyes stared at Keith knowingly, reading between the lines of what he really wanted to ask.
“We can use the majority to convert into fuel for our own ships. Even those that don’t utilise Galra Tech can still use quintessence once it’s been properly processed. Of course, it’s far more than we’re capable of using for our ships, that if some were lost in transit…well, it wouldn’t be too catastrophic for us.”
Kolivan scratched his cheek idly, looking off to the side at nothing in particular.
“Anyway, the shipment will be carried out in one week’s time. Ensure that you’re prepared, or I will have to send another blade in your place.”
“Of course.” Keith nodded firmly.
As Kolivan turned to leave the training room, he quickly added to his statement. “Oh and uh…Kolivan?”
He paused where he stood, but didn’t turn around to face Keith.
“I…really appreciate it.”
“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”