Deserving

Chapter thirty-seven

Lance heaved a sigh, his skin drying quickly under the fluffy towel. The basin was cool against him, almost trying to tempt him to stay longer. With one last stretch, he began pulling on his clothes. 

More formal that he usually dressed, although he had decided to forgo all jewellery aside from the circlet. He wondered if the humans would be wearing Paladin armour or if they had found some other form of formal wear that they might find more comfortable. Lance certainly knew how uncomfortable it could be to sit in that clunky gear for hours on end. Being in a lion was bad enough. 

He tied up his hair, the damp pile settling heavily across his back. He spared a glance to the time as he left the bathroom, Hunk would be there any moment now. 

The prince crossed into the bedroom, double checking his appearance in the mirror. He wished he had a little more time for his hair to dry properly but he doubted anyone else would mind.  

At least the bags under his eyes had died down after their trip. He hadn't realised just how much sleep he had been missing out on. Pidge had benefitted from the technology break too. 

He wondered if Keith had been sleeping better as a result too. Maybe they could ask Coran for permission to have their nightly training sessions back. Tiring them out would certainly get him a few more winks at night. Even if it would leave him sore. 

Hunk announced himself with a careful knock to the door, Lance quickly opening it for him. 

The other Paladin's eyes jumped across him for a quick moment, an absent smile on his face as he passed him a hot mug, "Ready to head out?" 

"Course." Lance took a sip, beaming as he bounded out into the corridor, "How early do you think we're supposed to be?" 

"I was going to ask you that." Hunk laughed a little sheepishly.

"Allura will be there before us. As will Coran."

"Keith will probably try to be early." Hunk agreed before adding distractedly, "Kolivan came this morning."

"I hope he got enough rest. His work cannot be easy." Lance really did hope he was doing well but the reminder of his return whipped up anxiety in his chest. If this mission went well, Kolivan wouldn't be the only one leaving for HQ afterwards. 

Even though Lance still encouraged Keith to follow through with his exploration of his heritage, the idea still sent butterflies into a frenzy in his chest. Being a Blade was somehow so much more dangerous than being a Paladin. At least if a Paladin was captured, they would be kept alive for bargaining and interrogation (even if the latter could arguably be a worse fate than death if the captors were sadistic enough). As a Blade, an organisation that few knew the worth of and those who did knew them to be as stubborn as boulders, it was stupidly optimistic to even hope to be granted a cell. 

"This is going to go great." Hunk rubbed a hand up and down Lance's shoulder, sensing his worry but misplacing it, "We'll figure a great plan in no time, I'm certain. I mean look at everyone we've got working with us."

Lance shoved on a shaky smile, nodding his head quickly, "Yeah, you're right. We'll manage." 

The door to the conference room opened, the long table it held within stretching out before them. The diplomats and politicians were mostly gone, strategists and freshly made commanders taking their place. It was odd how much more familiar that fresh room of strangers felt.

A few were stood, mingling in groups. Most of them Lance recognised from the short list of higher ranking officers from the other ships. He still had trouble recalling their names though.