wipe these stars from my eyes

Shiro did not expected to be missed from the Dothori's celebration. He had excused himself early in the evening, during the dusky twilight hours, and went for a walk to stretch his legs and clear out his mind. The Dothori were huge aliens, the smallest adults of their race still had a foot of height on Shiro himself; and the way they crowded around the Paladins made him quietly uncomfortable. The feeling was something he had gotten far too good at pushing aside; they were in no rush here tonight so he slipped away from the banquet table and made his way through the maze of brightly colored, patchwork tents, to the edge of the camp.

The Castle of Lions stood in the distance, the last fading rays of the setting sun still highlighting her tallest point. The Lions were all safe inside again; despite Hunk's rather rough landing in their earlier fight against the Galra outpost everyone and everything was back to the way it was supposed to be. It was second nature by now to playback the battle; the strategy they used, and where their teamwork needed a tweak or two. Shiro folded his arms and stared past the Castle in the distance, thinking on the new training regiment they should implement, and trying not to let that heavy feeling he'd pushed aside overwhelm him.

He couldn't let himself get overwhelmed. The entire team looked to him, expected him to lead with a level, calm head. He couldn't let them down.

But, left alone with his thoughts and the first thing they drifted to were those patchwork memories – memories that were more emotion than anything substantial; pain and fear shot through with adrenaline, aching helplessness, bitter hopelessness. Shiro took in a long deep breath, before releasing it into the cool evening air. It didn't help.

"Shiro?"

He really hadn't expected anyone to come after him so quickly, when Shiro had left all the others had been busy. Keith was trying to feign off Dothori suitors who were suitably impressed with his valor, however Lance was of course eating up the attention so much he was actually dancing with them in the plaza. Hunk and Pidge were only slightly more reserved, halfway through taking apart a Dothori skiff to modify it; and Allura and Coran were visiting with the high priestess and her retinue. He figured he would have at least an hour, if not more, before anyone came looking for him as it was far too easy for any of the Paladins to simply vanish amidst the towering, fuzzy aliens.

Shiro turned around, his arms folded still, to see to his surprise that it was Lance. He had expected that if anyone noticed his absence and came after him it would be Keith. Shiro put on a small smile, automatic and forced, as Lance stepped out from between the final two border tents with a concerned expression on his face. "You okay?" he asked, and he was carrying two of the broad, flat bowls that the Dothori used as drinkware. "I saw you leave. Everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Lance," Shiro said automatically, because even if he wasn't, he had to be. "Go back to the party, enjoy yourself." He turned back out the way he was looking; in the time that he had looked away the planet's sun had dipped enough that even the tallest point of the distant castle no longer saw its rays. "We'll be leaving in the morning."

He looked back when he saw movement out of his peripheral vision, Shiro jerked his head a little but it was only Lance, offering one of the flat bowls. "They were handing these out after you booked it," he said. "Figured you'd want some."

Shiro looked at the drink that Lance was offering him and frowned; the liquid was more clear than opaque; the dim light of the paper lanterns strung between tents didn't give him more than that. "What is it?"

"No clue. Keith started sucking it down like it was water, so it's gotta be good." Shiro took the bowl from Lance's outstretched hand and watched as Lance himself took a long sip from his own. Accepting that Lance hadn't sprayed a mouthful of liquid into the evening air; Shiro took a drink.