all the thinnest places - a voltron fanfiction

Chapter 4

sorry it's been so long T_T

please ignore my clear ignoring of accurate canon timelines :>

everything is technically medically explainable :D

oh and the 'I need to be able to see the whole room otherwise I'm terrified' is kinda based off personal experience lmao ahhahahah (it's not as strong for me, it's just a small discomfort and is mostly the case when I'm alone in a dimly lit or grey-lit room)

if shiro is space dad krolia is definitely earth mum

and finally, (not for u lumi) please DO NOT SHIP like uh something weird like, idk Lotor x Krolia. krolia is old lmao and for once lotor isn't like ancient he's abt Allura's age in the show! like I said, earth mum :D

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The harsh force of gravity pulling him into some soft surface yanked Lotor back to reality in a painful instant, light seeping in harsh and bright through something that definitely wasn't the tinted window of his ship. Although he knew the Terrans had quite a small sun, it felt like his skin was blistering from its heat. Blinking, he found that something wasn't right with his vision - he couldn't see out of his right eye - and someone had bandaged his chest and arms (thankfully they had left the clothing on the lower half of his body on, along with one of the knives he'd hidden in his armor). What appeared to be burns peeked out from underneath the white cloth: his newly-built ship was probably an absolute wreck, but there was nothing he could do about it in the moment, much to his annoyance.

Either way, he wasn't dead, so he counted that as a win.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye, barely visible from his awkward viewpoint but enough to set his senses on alert. But then it moved closer, and...

He knew what the species inhabiting this small planet looked like, and this was not one of them. Skin a familiar purple, pale yellow eyes: this was unmistakably a Galran - but how did they get here, this planet had no recorded contact with those outside their own planet let alone the Galra- he couldn't focus on that now, he needed to leave as soon as possible.

Keeping his eyes half closed, he watched as the woman moved around the house. Her exact existence on a planet with supposedly no contact with civilizations external to their own was somewhat confounding but he had other concerns with his own predicament. Wait, wait for it... the cold steel of one of his hidden blades was comforting in his hand, soothing his burning skin.

Wait...

She stepped closer, seemingly oblivious, swirling a glass of some beverage in her hand. Lotor gritted his teeth, bracing against the sudden pain of movement.

Wait...

Bending, she sat down on the armrest of the sofa he was laying on with what sounded like a huff of annoyance and it was finally time so he lunged-

Pain exploded throughout his body, and oh quiznak he'd have to put his shoulder back - every injury he earned from the crash protesting against his sudden attack - and just like that he missed the woman's throat, instead slicing the air next to her. Drawing in a sharp breath, Lotor steadied his shaking hand and re-adjusted the knife, pressing the blade into skin.

"Are you working with Honerva?" he demanded. She just sighed, tiredly drawing her own dagger from somewhere that was out of his field of view and twirling it.

"Yorak, you told me you searched him."

Distantly, a shout echoed back making Lotor's head throb even harder, knuckles turning white with the force of his desperate grip. "Of course I did! All his weapons are in a pile in the kitchen,"

"Then why am I being held at knife-point?" Loud expletives heralded the appearance of another person, almost Altean in kind, in the doorway, red jacket half-on and a mess of black hair falling into his eyes. Some credit was surely deserved - at this point Lotor felt quite light without the weight of most of his hidden blades.

"I took fourteen quiznaking weapons off this guy, how-" and here, he turned to Lotor: "do you store these things?"

"I forbid you from teaching my son how to hide munitions on his person." the Galran said at the same time, scoffing. "I doubt it would be beneficiary for any future careers he chooses - this planet does not seem to favour its young being educated in the area of common sense."

"It most certainly would be useful when we get off this planet,"

"Well then, you'll learn from the best, and I'm sure that's not Prince Lotor here. Speaking of which, put the knife down: you've over-sharpened it anyway and I could snap it in an instant."

Lotor blinked at this, surprised that the woman knew his name and even more by the sudden realisation that his blade was little more than a sliver of steel (on second thought, he did distinctly remember scraping it over some rock he found somewhere one anxious night.) Nevertheless, he pushed his case. "Are you working with Honerva? Tell me!" Maybe some of his desperation slipped into his voice but his back wasn't against the wall meaning much of the room laid out of his field of view concealing unseen terrors and he wasn't about to surrender to them.

But, seemingly oblivious to his growing panic (or accommodating, as he would later realise) she simply stated, "Would you believe me if I said I wasn't?"

No, he answered in his head, lowering his hand. "Could you prove it?"

"I can only prove as much as you are willing to believe, Lotor, when I say no. My name is Krolia, this is Yorak, and though I came here in search of the Empress she stranded me here as much as she did you."

Stranded? She knows she knows she knows, he had to leave because he wasn't protected now, he still couldn't perceive her intentions for replacing his real mother and that meant- well, it meant many things, since no-one else seemed to notice. It meant many things for him, because apparently to everyone else he asked in his supposed 'confusion', she was just the same.

He turned his head, body protesting what he knew he needed to survive. Nothing loomed in the shadows behind him but empty cobwebs, their inhabitants long passed - nothing crept towards him but dust blown on the whims of a quiet breeze.

"And do not fear - there is only one ghost in this house."