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Chapter Text

Keith hugged his knees to his chest, ignoring the purple claws that were becoming increasingly familiar, though he despised them all the same. They were the reason he was ostracised, torn away from his team by the cruelty of the universe, taken from yet another family.

Except this one wouldn't completely let him go.

The castle shook with another wave of attack, and Keith curled into an even smaller ball, hoping that he wouldn't be thrown around again. His ankle still hadn't fully healed from the attack with the strange galra who'd snuck onto the castle. The galra who'd actually listened to Keith's cries. The galra who'd told him that he wasn't bad. The galra who'd promised to return, but had not yet done so.

Keith doubted he ever would.

People promised things, but they could never keep the promises. His dad promised to always take care of him. Shiro promised he wouldn't leave him. Red promised she'd protect him.

Broken, broken, broken.

The promises were broken, and so was he.

Zarkon was tracking the ship, that's why they kept being attacked, or so Keith gathered from the few announcements made in the castle. Allura suspected it was him, though how he could betray them when he hadn't left his room since his heritage had been discovered, Keith didn't know. As much as it hurt for them to push him away, to barely even say 'hello' when they brought him his meals, he wouldn't betray them. He would never betray them.

They hated him, but he still cared.

He stopped fighting after Ulaz's visit, stopped trying to escape his room, accepting his fate. He wasn't a bad galra. He wasn't. So he behaved, he didn't respond with anger, he suppressed his fire until he could hardly feel the flames. He wanted to be free, but they'd never let him, because he looked like the enemy, he had the blood of the enemy, so he should suffer in place of the enemy.

There was nothing he could do but accept it.

It wasn't him, it was the Black Lion, and Keith was both relieved and concerned. Shiro had actually bothered to tell Keith that fact, but it was a sort of twisted reassurance. You're not betraying us, so we can keep you here without consequence.

Shiro wouldn't think like that, though. Would he?

Keith doodled as his once-brother talked, used to tuning out conversation. He didn't want to hear the things that made it sound like Shiro still cared, because he was chained to a wall in his room, he hadn't had proper exercise in weeks, he wasn't welcome anymore.

Shiro eventually gave up, and his leaving hurt Keith more than the ex-paladin would like. He thought he'd be over it by now, but he wasn't. He still cared too much, dammit.

And the others decided to make it even worse.

Pidge turned up to his room that night, the first time he'd seen the green paladin for days. She had the most reason to hate him; after all, it was his people who'd taken half her family away. Yet she came in with a small smile on her face, not only with a tray of food but also a couple of comics that looked to be from Earth. She chatted about a space mall, and a cow, then just as Keith started to zone out she held out a hand to him, the comics clutched in them.

"I picked these up. For you," she said, and Keith's chest tightened.

No. This wasn't right, they weren't supposed to care, she wasn't supposed to care, he was bad and they hated him-

But she'd bought him a gift, something no one had done since his 17th birthday, before Shiro left for Kerberos. He accepted it with a whispered "thank you", hating that the gesture warmed his heart because he knew that it would only break more.

Pidge left the room far too soon, and Keith couldn't even read the comics through the tears obscuring his vision.

No-one visited him for a few days, except for meals, which he barely ate. The comics were enjoyable, once he mustered the strength to pick them up, but that only made the ache in his chest stronger. He found himself whining without realising, other strange noises escaping him, brought on by his horrid transformation, he knew.

He hated those noises. They always seemed to happen at the worst times.

There was someone important on the ship, they were trying to forge an alliance, though Allura was incredibly tense about it- or that was what he gauged from the tone of her voice when she happened to walk past his room. Keith busied himself with reading the comics a third time, and doodling in the almost-full sketchbook after that, though he stopped when the only things on the page were yellow, pupil-less eyes staring out at him. His own eyes still held pupils, he knew it, but a whine escaped his throat, and he curled in on himself, huddled into the furthest corner the chain around his ankle would allow him to go to. Voices sounded by his door, then, and he whimpered, because this meeting was important but they'd heard his stupid noises and now Allura would be mad and he-

The door opened, and Keith braced himself for an attack.

He didn't expect a gasp of horror.

"You have a kit here?" an unfamiliar male exclaimed.

"He was the red paladin, until we uncovered the secrets of his heritage. I suspect he is a spy," Allura responded harshly, and Keith flinched at the tone.

I'm not a spy, I told you, I didn't know I didn't know ididntknow...

"He is just a kit," the male said, and a soothing rumble cut through the air. Keith's muscles relaxed then, instinctively, and a curious whine slipped out. The male- galra, he now saw- rumbled again, and approached him slowly, like Ulaz had.

"Shh, it's okay, kit. I'll get you out of here," he murmured, and Keith nearly cried because he'd heard that before but it had proven false. His tail swished in agitation, and the new, older galra turned to Allura.

"Release him to me, and I will accept your alliance," he said coolly.

... Alliance? With galra?

"Another of your kind wanted him, too. But he knows too much."

"I doubt he knows more than those at my base," the galra retorted, "He will be protected with us, and we will not let his secrets out. But he needs to be with his people."

Allura seemed to consider this, and Keith's heartrate sparked in panic. She was going to hand him over to the galra?

No no no no no no-

But wait. Ulaz had tried to help him, had promised him that there were some good galra. Was this galra good, too?

He doubted Allura would be talking to him if that wasn't the case.

The altean princess approached Keith then, for the first time in what felt like forever.

"If I remove your restraint, will you run?" she asked.

Keith shook his head.

Allura closed her eyes and twisted her fingers, and the cuff fell away from Keith's ankle with a gentle click. He tried to stand, his weak ankle almost giving way, but the galra was there in an instant, supporting him.

"Get your things," Allura snapped, "You have five doboshes."

Keith glanced around the room, trying not to panic. She really was handing him over to the galra. But he didn't protest, limping over to grab a few t-shirts and other clothing, including his favourite red jacket, which he pulled on. His sketchbook he shoved into the bag, along with pencils and the comics, but he froze when the time was almost up.

"My knife," he whispered, then louder, "Princess, where is my knife?"

Allura stiffened. "I will get it. Kolivan, go to the bridge and take him with you."

The galra - Kolivan - nodded in agreement, and shouldered Keith's bag before the ex-paladin could protest.

"Kit, you are hurt," Kolivan said once Allura had left them, "Let me carry you."

Keith shook his head. The removal of the cuff, the promise of getting out of here was too close, and he'd be dammed if he let himself face freedom in the arms of a stranger.

"'M fine," he mumbled, limping towards the open door. Part of him expected it to be a cruel trick, but he crossed the threshold, taking in a shuddered breath of air that belonged to a different area than his room. Kolivan walked apace with him, one of the galra's arms extended slightly to catch Keith if he fell, but Keith gritted his teeth and carried on limping. His leg muscles were screaming from their lack of exercise, his ankle throbbed with every step, and he was so tired, he hadn't slept properly in days, he couldn't afford to be weak-

Keith lurched to one side, his left leg giving out, and Kolivan caught him before he could smack into the floor. The older galra scooped him up, and Keith let out a small whine of protest before finding himself curling into Kolivan's embrace.

Damn these galra instincts.

He was so weak, so vulnerable around the galra now, something within him brought to life by the transformation. His instincts were still sharp and ready for battle, but also childish. With Ulaz, and now Kolivan, he found himself calming quicker than normal, longing for their touch, for them to pick him up and care for him and make him feel safe. So part of him was horrified at his position, but the other part was overjoyed to be carried in such a manner, snuggling into the galra's broad chest, feeling secure for the first time in weeks, months even.

"You're okay now, kit," Kolivan murmured, "You'll be safe with us, I promise."

Chapter Text

The older galra didn't let go of him on the bridge, and Keith kept his head pressed into Kolivan's chest, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment on his friend's faces.

No, ex-friends, he reminded himself.

Then a familiar presence brushed against his mind, for the first time in weeks, and Keith gasped.

Stay, Red urged, Family.

No, Keith responded, unaware of the small growl that escaped him, They hate me. They don't care anymore.

Red pushed images into his mind. Shiro, still defending him. Pidge, giving him gifts. Hunk, making sure the little food he received was enough.

"No," Keith whined, his tail swishing in agitation.

Care. Love. Family.

"No!" His eyes grew damp and he clenched his fists, trying desperately to not let the tears fall. He was a monster, they just pretended to care. Maybe they did it because they pitied him.

But they were not his family any more.

Family! Love! Red urged, and Keith snarled with such ferocity that Kolivan almost dropped him in shock. The other paladins, who had gathered on the bridge, all recoiled and tensed at the noise.

No! If they love me why did they hurt me? Why did they lock me up and push me away? Why did they reject me? Why did you reject me?

Red was silent.

"That's what I thought," Keith murmured, and across the room, Lance yelped.

"Red! What's going on?" the Cuban exclaimed, and Keith stiffened, suddenly aware of their presence. Kolivan set him down with some reluctance- he would quite happily hold the kit until they went back to the base- but he did know that Keith needed to face this.

Keith lowered his head, ears pinned against his skull, eyes flickering nervously, refusing to meet the gaze of any of his former teammates.

Realisation flashed in Lance's blue eyes. "Keith. What did you do to Red?"

Keith raised his head slowly. "Nothing," he whispered, "She rejected me. I..."

"Trying to take her back won't change things!" Lance exclaimed. Keith flinched.

"I-I don't want her back, I don't deserve her," he stammered.

No! Worthy! Mine!

"Shut up, Red!" he hissed, "I'm not yours! You belong to Lance now, and I..." Keith inhaled shakily, willing his voice not to break, "I'm not a paladin. Not anymore."

Red's roar could be heard even in the bridge, and Keith and Lance both flinched.

"Keith," Shiro called out, but he couldn't bare to look at his brother, shaking his head.

"No," he whispered; to Red, to Shiro, to the voices in his head telling him to stay and keep suffering because that was what he deserved.

Keith turned his back on the paladins, like they'd turned on him, breaking the last bonds they had.

And as he limped away, following Kolivan, his heart shattered just a little more.

Chapter Text

Keith sat curled up in the back of the galra's ship, the position one his body was very familiar with. He gripped his knife tightly, running his fingers along the blade, familiarising himself with it again. Being without it for - weeks? Months? He wasn't sure how long - had left him feeling so vulnerable, and now it was back, he started feeling a little more like himself again.

Kolivan kept giving him concerned looks, but Keith ignored the older galra, his primary focus on his knife, not letting his mind wander to the friends- ex-friends, they hated him, why couldn't he remember that fact- the people he'd left behind.

"We're here," Kolivan announced then, and Keith uncurled, curiosity getting the better of him. He gasped then at the sight before him; two black holes with a bluish star between them, cosmic energy swirling round. His fingers itched as Kolivan expertly guided the ship in, longing for the thrills of flying again. The path through the celestial objects was very precise, with no margin for error, but Keith could easily imagine conquering it in Red-

No. He couldn't let himself think of the lion, of the gaping hole in his chest where her warmth once comforted him.

When they entered the base, a large, masked galra greeted them, and Keith cowered back on some sort of instinct. Kolivan placed his hand on Keith's shoulder, a low rumble in his chest, the sound soothing him instantly.

"Where did you pick up the kit?" the massive galra asked.

"Voltron had him. He used to be a paladin," Kolivan answered.

The galra deactivated his mask, purple face scrunched in disbelief. "A paladin? What happened?"

"I didn't know I was galra," Keith found himself mumbling, "I got hit with druid magic."

The large galra frowned. "And they rejected you?"

Keith nodded, his throat tight.

He growled, and Keith suddenly noticed the tail swishing behind him.

"Careful, Antok," Kolivan warned, and the large galra- Antok, Keith presumed- stopped the growling noise. Keith relaxed muscles he hadn't realised were tense, and a low whine slipped from his mouth.

"Sorry," he said immediately after.

"No, kit. Don't apologise for your instincts," Kolivan said, "Now come, we need to get your injuries seen to."

"It's just my ankle," Keith sighed, "It's fine."

"No it's not." Kolivan shot Antok a look, and the big galra scooped Keith up, inducing a whine of surprise from him.

"To the med bay," Antok declared cheerfully, striding forward with a very embarrassed Keith carried bridal-style. They passed a few galra, the majority wearing the same black and grey suit as Antok and Kolivan, though each with slight variants on the chest lights and leg patterns. It seemed to be a uniform of sorts. None of them had tails though, not like him and Antok.

When they entered a corridor that Keith assumed was the med bay, Antok finally set him down, but his large hand- only three fingers- guided Keith towards a tall female galra wearing a white doctor's coat on top of her uniform. A thin, striped tail curled around her left leg, its tip split into three points.

"Antok, I'm busy," she grumbled. Keith tried to peak at what she was doing, but Antok's hand restrained him.

"I have a kit." The doctor paused and turned then, her pure yellow eyes scrutinising Keith.

"A half-breed? Where did you pick him up?" she asked.

"I didn't. Kolivan did. The alteans and Voltron had him."

The doctor let out a small 'ah' of understanding, and crouched down so she was at Keith's height. "Tell me, young one, what is your other half?"

"Human," Keith answered, and the doctor's brows furrowed.

"Like the paladins?"

He nodded.

"Hmm." She typed a few notes on a small tablet, then turned back to Keith with a smile on her purple face. "Now, let's get that ankle treated, shall we?"

Keith scowled at her patronising tone. "I'm not a child," he protested, crossing his arms.

Antok laughed slightly. "No, you are most definitely a kit. How old are you?"

"Eighteen," he responded grumpily.

Antok's eyes widened. "A very young kit!"

"I'm not a kid! I'm an adult!"

"In human terms, maybe," the doctor said, "but in galran terms, you are still a child. Let me look at your ankle."

"Fine," Keith grunted, and the doctor took hold of his foot, frowning at where the skin was raw from the cuff. She gently tilted the appendage, and Keith grit his teeth as a searing pain shot up his leg.

"Quiznak," he cussed, "that hurts!"

"Language, kit," the doctor chided, "Of course it hurts, you've broken it."

Keith blinked. "Oh. I thought it was-" he hissed as the doctor tried to set it- "just a strain?"

"No, it's definitely broken. It has started to heal, but not right. This will hurt," she warned.

Keith clenched his fists, ignoring the claws digging into his palms. "I can take it."

The doctor worked quickly then, and Keith found himself staring at Antok's tail, trying desperately to drown out the screams of complaint from his left ankle. Eventually the pain ceased, and he gasped in air, glancing down at the patch of peculiar material the doctor was wrapping around his abused leg.

"We don't have pods, but this will speed up the healing process," she explained, "Don't remove it."

"Thank you," Keith whispered.

She smiled at him, then her expression twisted. "Oh! Silly me, I never got your name."

"Keith."

"I'm Valta," she said, tapping on the tablet again- putting in his information, Keith reckoned.

"You have to rest up, keep the pressure off that foot," Valta was saying, and Keith grunted in response, his eyes drifting around the room. There were only a couple of other galra on the beds- one with a broken arm, another with bloodied bandages around their torso, and a third who looked strangely familiar.

"... Ulaz?" Keith whispered without thinking.

Antok stiffened. "You know him?"

"He... He came to the castle," Keith breathed, "He said he'd come back for me, he promised, but he didn't..." He wiped harshly at his eyes, hating how his voice shook and a low keen escaped his throat.

"Oh, kit," Antok rumbled, pulling him into an embrace, "Ulaz didn't abandon you. He was gravely injured when fighting with Voltron against a robeast. He's been in a coma ever since."

"So he didn't leave me on purpose?" Keith murmured.

"No, of course not! Kit, no galra with a heart could leave you in that place," Antok soothed, "Don't worry, you are safe here. We won't abandon you or chain you up. That, I promise you."

Chapter Text

Keith lay in a pile of soft, plush pillows, marvelling at his sudden change in circumstance. He'd gone from being ostracised to loved in a sudden shift of the universe, and he still wasn't quite sure what to make out it. Antok had been very reluctant to leave him, but he was insistent, needing an opportunity to just breathe and attempt to figure out what the quiznak was happening.

He was only sure of three things.

First, he was half-galra; it wasn't a cruel twist from a druid, but something that had always been a part of him, though he was oblivious.

Second, there were good galra, and they cared for him. They really cared, something which he couldn't wrap his head around, but he knew it all the same.

Third, he couldn't go back to Voltron and he wasn't sure how he felt on that matter. He just felt in his gut that it would be very bad- for him- if he tried to return.

He sighed, curling over and burying his face in a pillow, tiredness seeping through his bones. But he'd been tense for so long, he wasn't sure how he could relax enough to sleep well; it certainly hadn't been possible back on the castle after-

No. Stop thinking of them. They're on one path, and I'm on another now. I can't dwell on the past. I've got to move on.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he jolted upright, instinctively grabbing his knife, but made no other moves.

After a dobosh, the knock sounded again, accompanied by a voice. "Kit? May I enter?"

Keith exhaled and loosened his posture upon recognising the person. "Yeah," he said softly, and the door opened to reveal Antok. The large galra's brow furrowed as he took in Keith's wide eyes and the way he gripped his knife.

"You should be sleeping," he rumbled, walking over to crouch down by Keith.

Keith shrugged. "Maybe."

"You're tired. Why aren't you sleeping?" the galra pressed, and Keith sighed.

"I can't," he confessed, "I've been so tense and...and scared...and now I-I can't relax..." He mentally cursed himself for stammering, but Antok didn't even comment on it.

"Oh, kit. Those your age tend to sleep in prides, not alone. Kolivan said it may overwhelm you, but you are welcome to join ours."

Keith blinked up at him, confused. "Pride? Like..." He trailed off, unable to form the word 'lions'.

"It's just me and Kolivan currently," Antok continued, "Valta joins us on occasion. Ulaz is a part of our pride, too, so if he gets better-"

"When," Keith corrected quickly.

"When he gets better," Antok amended, "He will join us again. Thace, too, when he comes back from his current mission."

Keith nodded slowly, trying to get his head around it, and slipped his knife back into its sheath. "So what do you do...with your...prides?"

"Sleep together, of course," Antok stated matter-of-factly, and Keith's brain screeched to a halt.

"Uh-um," he stammered out, "N-no thanks, I think, I, err, I'll stay alone-"

Antok's yellow eyes widened. "Oh, no! Not like that, kit!" he exclaimed, horror in his tone, "We just sleep. Nothing more."

Keith exhaled, awkwardly rubbing his heated cheeks. "Erm, sorry," he said awkwardly.

Antok laughed and ruffled Keith's hair, an action which made his catlike ears flicker and flatten in slight irritation. "Don't worry, sometimes other species get confused. Now, would you like to come with me and Kolivan?"

Keith hesitated, his tail swishing. "Um, what about Valta?" he asked tentatively.

"We can ask her to come, if that's what you want."

Keith nodded a little too eagerly, far too embarrassed to admit that Valta was how he'd begun to picture his mother, ever since figuring out that she was galra. He knew the chances were slim- she didn't look much like him, her ears, tail and markings were all different- but that couldn't shake the sense of comfort he felt around her.

Antok rumbled in satisfaction, then scooped Keith up before he even had a chance to protest, striding out into the black and purple corridors of the base, only passing a few rooms before he adjusted his hold on a very disgruntled Keith to press his large hand against a pad on the wall. Instantly the door slid open, revealing a spacious room with a massive bundle of blankets and cushions in the centre. Something stirred within Keith, and a longing whine escaped his throat at how comfy and safe the pile looked.

Nest, his brain supplied, and Antok chuckled at the eagerness on his face.

"Kolivan will be with us soon, I'll just contact Valta," he said, setting Keith down gently on the edge of the nest. Immediately he made a beeline for the red cushion near the centre, almost big enough for his whole body to curl up on, and snuggled down next to it, a strangle vibration starting up in his chest as his tail curled around his leg, the end twitching in satisfaction. In any other circumstance he would've been embarrassed at his instinctual reactions, but at that point in time he was so comfortable that he just didn't care, his body finally relaxing as Antok lay down beside him, the older galra snuggling under a blanket, his tail brushing gently against Keith's arm in a soothing motion.

Keith's eyelids fluttered and he drifted off to sleep, his heart swelling with the thought of this is my home.

Chapter Text

Kolivan sat down in his office, rubbing his hands together and sighing loudly. What was he thinking, bringing a half-breed kit onto the base? Of course, he couldn't leave the kit there on the castle- no galra in their right mind would do that- but to bring him back to the base probably wasn't the best decision, even if he was in possession of one of their blades. Nobody had the time to look after a kit- with the return of Voltron, the Blades' work had only increased- and nobody had the skill to look after a kit, either.

A knock sounded at his door and Valta strode in, a datapad clutched between her claws.

"Is it urgent?" Kolivan sighed.

The doctor paused. "No? But I ran a DNA test on the kit and have some interesting results."

Kolivan sat up more, intrigued. "Is he related to any of our agents?"

"Yes. Turns out, Krolia did leave out something from her report of Earth," Valta commented with a slight smirk. Kolivan just sighed.

"Of course it was Krolia," he grumbled. Now he thought of it, the kit did share her cheek-markings and their eyes were the same colour. It was quite obvious, really.

"Should we contact her?" Valta asked.

Kolivan frowned. "No. Her mission is far too important, it's taken her years to infiltrate. If we contact her, it will compromise the entire mission."

"Very well," Valta sighed, "But who will look after the kit, then?"

Kolivan took the datapad and quickly skimmed over their agents' medical data, a small smile creeping on his face. "There is another relative nearby," he noted, "And I have a feeling he'll be much better suited to this job than the rest of us."

Thace strolled down the corridors of the cruiser smoothly, keeping up the air of nonchalance that a soldier of his rank had to possess. Haggar's druids were starting to really irritate him; it was increasingly difficult to evade them, and the coded message from Kolivan demanding an urgent call wasn't making his day any easier. He was supposed to be in deep cover. This position was one he'd held for years, working up the ranks until he could access the most valuable data. Sure, letting Voltron go before the witch could corrupt their wormhole had threatened to compromise him, but he was still holding out.

A direct call to Kolivan though? That was sure to compromise him, or at least tighten the druids' surveillance of him.

This had better be worth it, Thace grumbled mentally, ducking into a small storage room containing a very old communicator.

And it had better be quick, he added, noting that he only had five doboshes before the druids tried to find him again.

Thace inserted his chip and nimbly typed in a code, before Kolivan's unmasked face flashed up on the screen.

"Thace," his leader greeted, as unemotional as always.

"Kolivan. I don't have much time," Thace responded quickly.

"Are you compromised?"

Thace hesitated. "Not exactly-"

"But this call could compromise you?" Kolivan pressed.

Thace sighed. "Yes."

"Good. I need you back at the base," Kolivan declared, in a tone that asked for no arguments.

Thace wasn't the best at obeying.

"What?" he exclaimed, "I'm not completely compromised! What do you need me back at base for anyway, can't someone else-"

Kolivan coughed, interrupting Thace, and the younger galra stopped mid-sentence, his ears flickering in irritation.

"We have obtained a kit. I believe it to be your sister's. So congratulations, you're an uncle."

Thace blinked. "What?" he stammered, "But.. Krolia's in a deep space mission, how..?"

"It seems that she missed something out from her report on Earth," Kolivan said dryly, and Thace sighed. Of course. Of course his sister would have a child with an alien and just fail to tell them. Brilliant.

"How old is the kit? And how did you come to find him?" Thace asked.

"All this I will explain when you're back on the base-"

"Why not ask Krolia? Why me? It's her kit after all," Thace interjected.

He swore he could feel Kolivan's frustrated grunt.

"You said it yourself. She's in deep space. Plus, she left the kit before. You are his closest blood relative and I need you back on the base. I am sending Regris to extract you. Don't miss the rendezvous."

Kolivan ended the call before Thace could say anymore, much to the latter's annoyance. Two ticks later, details of extraction came through on the communicator, and Thace grumbled at it.

"Only fifteen doboshes? That's not enough time to pack," he muttered, but removed the chip and slipped out of the room, striding with renewed purpose towards his own room. He didn't have much - all the Blades travelled light - but he had acquired a few items throughout his time with the Empire that he would like to keep, thank you very much for the sufficient time warning Kolivan.

Still grumbling, Thace managed to pack everything, but it meant he'd cut time a little short for the extraction point. Cursing under his breath, he ditched the whole trying-to-look-unsuspicious act and flat-out sprinted through the ship's corridors, barely avoiding a patrol of sentries.

"About time," Regris quipped as Thace rounded the corner to their rendezvous point.

"Oh, shut up," Thace grumbled, following the younger Blade onto the small ship, still annoyed at Kolivan's request. There went his dream of climbing to the top of the military ladder and become the Blade's highest-ranked infiltrator.

Instead, he was going to become a babysitter.

Brilliant.

Chapter Text

Keith paced in the pride's room, rubbing his fingers together nervously as Antok sat in the nest, watching Keith with a quizzical expression.

"Calm down, kit," he sighed, not for the first time that morning.

Keith's tail swished faster in agitation. "I can't calm down! What if... What if he doesn't like me?" he exclaimed.

It had been three weeks since Kolivan had found him, and they'd contacted a blood relative of his. An uncle. Keith was getting better- he was used to his tail, now, at least for walking- but he was still struggling with all his strange new instincts. Some of the ones he now recognised to be galra had always been there, but all the kit ones were...unique, to say the least.

He was becoming a problem and that was the last thing he wanted.

If this doesn't work out, I'm leaving, Keith decided. As much as he loved being with the Blades - they gave him such a sense of security and belonging - he couldn't stand it if they rejected him like Voltron did.

He would gladly leave before that could happen.

Antok rumbled gently and stood, walking over to Keith. "I've told you, Thace is part of our pride already. He won't force you to leave, kit. You're part of the pride too, as much as he is."

"Mhmm," Keith hummed in response, Antok's mannerisms failing to calm him like they usually did.

Antok's communicator flashed and the large galra quickly glanced at the message. "Ah, he's here. Are you ready?"

Keith stiffened, ears flattening against his head. No, no I'm not.

"Um, okay," he said, turning nervously towards the door. Antok motioned for him to go first, so he did, his heart pounding in his ears.

As he walked, he tried to recall what Shiro used to tell him in these situations. Breathe, Keith. With me. One, two, inhale. Three, four, exhale. And again.

Keith's chest clenched with longing, but he couldn't allow himself to think of his once-brother, not here, not now.

He steeled himself and stepped into Kolivan's office, getting his first glimpse of his uncle.

The galra was quite tall, with broad shoulders, with softly coloured purple fur. His ears swept upwards on his head, pointed like Keith's were, but in a slightly different way. Eyes of a solid, galra yellow scrutinised him and Keith shifted, his tail curling around his legs as the nerves sent miniscule tremors through his limbs.

"Thace, this is Keith. Keith, this is Thace, your mother's younger brother," Kolivan introduced them.

Thace took a couple of steps forward, his head tilted, examining Keith.

"You look like her," he murmured, sadness almost flickering in his monochrome eyes.

"Like who?" Keith asked, wincing as his voice pitched.

"Like your mother. You have her markings, and her eyes."

Keith's hands flew to his cheeks, where the stripes lay. "Is she...?"

"She's in a deep space mission, so we can't risk compromising her," Kolivan explained, "I'm sorry, kit."

Keith nodded. "I understand," he whispered, though it hurt. She'd left him all those years ago... Did she even remember him? Was she really in an important mission? Or did she just not want to see him?

He glanced up at Thace again, watching as the galra made some very unsubtle gestures towards him, clearly asking Kolivan for advice. Keith sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I don't need babysitting, okay?" he grumbled, "So if you don't want to bother with me, that's fine."

Antok frowned. "Kit..."

"No!" Keith exploded, "Listen I appreciate you guys helping me out but clearly I'm just in the way a-and you shouldn't have p-pulled Thace from a m-mission just to look after me I-I'm not w-w-worth the effort..." He trailed off, cheeks heating up as he stammered over the words.

The three adult galra stared at him, their facial expressions ranging from horror to confusion.

Keith turned away. "I... I'll go," he finished, "S-sorry to have been such a b-burden."

"No, kit, wait!" Antok exclaimed.

Keith walked out the door.

"Keith!" Kolivan yelled; at that he paused, because the Blade's leader rarely used his name.

"You can't change my mind," Keith said coolly, trying desperately to ignore the pain in his chest.

"I want you to train, to become a Blade."

Chapter Text

Keith took a deep breath, fiddling with the knife that had belonged to his mother. It would be truly his, if he could pass the Trials of Marmora

The problem was, nobody would let him.

Of all the galra, it had been Antok who'd protested the most against Keith's training, arguing that he was 'just a kit.'

At that, Keith had drawn his knife and pinned a very startled Thace, hissing that he was not a kit in human terms and was fully capable at fighting.

Until Thace disarmed him and flipped him over, effectively pinning him down, making the point that Keith was nowhere near as well-trained as any of their agents.

"It's because of my stupid tail," Keith had grumbled

So now he found himself in a training suit, said tail swishing in agitation behind him, waiting in one of the Blade's many training rooms for his partner.

Regris, he was told the name.

It wasn't supposed to be fighting- just learning how to best use his new appendage- but he'd brought his knife anyway. Because, after all, he was a fighter. He appreciated the Blades' concern, but they were in a war.

(He more than appreciated their concern, actually. It made him feel loved and cared for, in an odd way. He was afraid to confess that, though, so he kept quiet.)

He couldn't help as a Paladin, anymore, so he had to find another way. And training to be a Blade? That was exactly the opportunity he needed.

The door to the training room opened then, startling him out of his thoughts, the fur on his tail bristling as a masked galra entered. They were taller than him- as were all galra, he was convinced- but their mannerisms were different to those of the other Blades he'd interacted with. Younger, somehow.

"Greetings," the Blade said, their voice masculine, "You're Keith, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Regris?"

"That's me. Let's have a look at you." Regris advanced, tilting his head, and before Keith could react the galra had crossed over to him and seized his tail. He hissed, trying to pull the appendage out of Regris' grip, not liking the sensation of someone touching it.

Regris hummed, seemingly unfazed. "Not the best for combat, I must say. It's too soft and fluffy. But I guess we could work with it."

He let go then, and Keith stumbled backwards, hissing once more.

Regris laughed, his own tail moving fluidly behind him. It was harder than Keith's, an extra limb that would definitely prove useful in battle.

"Alright. You weren't born with a tail, were you?" Regris asked.

"No. It grew after..." Keith trailed off, the words suddenly becoming stuck in his throat.

After the quintessence hit me. After Allura forced me to strip. After I was kicked off the team...

"It shows. Still, you're getting better. But not good enough yet." Regris dropped into a battle stance, a knife suddenly in his hand. "Attack me."

Keith hesitated. "What?"

"Come on, there's no point in me teaching you how to balance or whatever. You'll learn it in time. What I want is to show you how to use your tail in battle," Regris explained, "So, come on. Attack me."

Keith didn't have to be told twice.

He surged forward, adrenaline igniting his veins as he feigned a lunge at Regris. The Blade moved to intercept, but Keith drew back at the last moment, tossing his knife and catching it with his left hand to then swipe from the opposite side. Faster than he could see, Regris' tail blocked the attack, its tip curling around Keith's wrist.

"Not bad," Regris noted, "But you're too open." He released Keith's wrist and the half galra stumbled back, quickly adopted a stance similar to that of Regris'. The older grinned.

"Again."

Thace looked down on the training room, watching as Regris fought with Keith. It was only light sparring, the Blade helping his kit to better utilise his new tail- The older galra abruptly stiffened.

His kit? Since when did he start thinking of Keith as his own?

"Someone's getting protective," Valta chirped, coming up behind him. Thace jumped.

"No! No I'm not!" he replied indignantly, "I'm just watching because I'm curious."

"Mhmm, sure," Valta hummed sarcastically, "That's why you growled when Regris knocked Keith over two doboshes ago."

Thace huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm not," he repeated, though it sounded false to his ears, too.

The doctor simply laughed, and he turned to scowl at her. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked.

Valta smirked. "What, can't I come and check on my favourite Blade?" she purred.

Thace abruptly looked away, face flushed.

She laughed. "Actually," she said, her tone back to normal, "I came to tell you that Ulaz is starting to wake up. He's likely to be fully conscious in a varga or so, and I figured you'd want to be there when he wakes up."

Thace turned to look at her again. "I would, but..."

"But you want to watch Keith. Don't deny it-" her hand shot out to place a finger on his mouth- "I know a protective dad when I see one."

He swatted her hand away. "Keith isn't my son!" he exclaimed.

"No, he's your nephew, but he's already wormed his little hybrid self into your heart." She stepped back, yellow eyes gleaming. "See you in a varga!" she added, before darting off back to the medical bay.

Thace sighed, turning his attention back to Regris and Keith. His kit was holding up well, though his black head-fur was plastered with sweat and he-

Quiznak, he'd done it again. His kit.

Thace just groaned, but couldn't be bothered to mentally correct himself.

So maybe he is my kit. He was Krolia's, now he's mine to look after. Quiznak, what a job. Still...

His thoughts slowed as he focused on his kit, watching the increasingly fluid motions of his sparring.

... It's not so bad. Keith's a good kit. I'm sure it'll all work out.

He hoped so, anyway.

Chapter Text

Keith stood outside the medical room, arms folded, tail swishing behind him. His muscles were aching from the training session with Regris, and he'd abandoned the concluding stretches in favour of waiting for Ulaz to wake.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was secretly terrified.

Not of Ulaz himself - Keith knew he could trust the galra - but of his reactions. What would he say? Did he mean to leave Keith a prisoner? Did he realise that Keith was unwanted and decide to leave him?

I'm being ridiculous.

Keith sighed and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He was being ridiculous; Ulaz hadn't returned because of injuries and he knew that, but he still had his doubts. Everything with the Blades was so smooth and natural...

Keith guessed he was just waiting for things to mess up, as they always did.

Thace waited outside as well, but if his uncle was anxious, he didn't show it.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Thace cleared his throat. "You were good in training today, kit," he said.

"Thanks," Keith mumbled, not wanting conversation.

Thace clearly didn't get that memo. "You have a good tail, and I'm sure it will be even stronger with time. But I was just thinking that maybe we should develop some armour for it?"

Keith slowly turned to look at his uncle. "Armour? For my tail?" he echoed, and said limb swished behind him.

Thace nodded. "Regris, Valta, and Antok all have naturally harder tails. Yours is, well..."

"Soft? Fluffy?" Keith suggested.

"Well, yes."

Before Thace could say anything else, though, the door to the medical room opened, and Valta stepped out.

"He's ready to see you now," she said softly.

Thace immediately entered the room, but Keith hesitated.

"Kit?" Valta prompted.

Keith swallowed. "Um, maybe I shouldn't-" His speech cut off into a yelp as Valta's tail wrapped around his arm, pulling him into the medical room. Flustered, he tugged his arm free, tail swishing faster as he took in his surroundings. All of the beds were vacant except for one, which held the familiar, pale galra. He was sat upright, propped against numerous pillows, and Thace knelt beside him. They were deep in conversation already, and Keith didn't want to interrupt.

"Go on, kit," Valta urged none too quietly.

Immediately the conversation stopped, and both Ulaz and Thace looked his way. Keith took a few steps forward gingerly.

"Is that the kit...?" Ulaz asked, his voice a little rough.

Thace nodded, smiling. "Kolivan rescued him after we formed an alliance with Voltron. And you'll never guess what," he added, with a touch of mischief.

"What?"

"He's Krolia's."

Keith stiffened. Krolia? That's...my mother's name?

"Of course," Ulaz chuckled, "I see the resemblance now."

"Oh come over here, kit!" Thace exclaimed.

Cheeks flushed, Keith crossed the last distance, nervously rubbing his thumb against his index finger. Thace put a firm hand on Keith's shoulder, and Ulaz smiled at him.

"I am glad to see you safe, kit," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't return for you."

"I don't blame you," Keith responded, his voice awfully small.

"How are you settling in?" Ulaz asked.

Keith paused. "Good, I think. I... I like it here. Feels like..." He trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

"Feels like?" Thace prompted.

Keith stared down at his feet. "Home," he whispered, "f-feels like home."

Thace let out a rumble of delight and embraced Keith fully. The younger froze at first but soon melted into the embrace, relaxing against his uncle. The contact stopped far too soon, and he let out a whine as he was pushed away, only to find himself set in someone else's arms. That person purred gently, and Keith curled up against them, resting his head on their chest as Thace wrapped his arms around both of them.

"I'm so happy you feel that way, kit," Thace purred.

"Me too," Ulaz commented, and Keith realised he was sitting in Ulaz's lap. Normally he would feel awkward, but it just felt right, cuddled with his newfound family-

Family.

Keith let that precious word echo in his mind, hardly daring to believe it. This was his home, and they were...they were...

"Are...are we family?" he murmured.

"Of course, kit!" Thace answered quickly.

"N-no, I mean, the pride...are we f-family?"

"Yes," Antok answered, suddenly standing beside the bed. Keith looked up to see Kolivan, Regris, and Valta there, too.

"We are your family," Ulaz said.

"Yeah, of course! You're already my baby brother," Regris grinned.

"I'm the cool aunt," Valta stated, making Thace a little flustered.

"You are definitely our family, Keith," Kolivan rumbled, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

Keith beamed at all of them, a loud, peculiar noise erupting in his chest, which made Thace laugh in delight and hold him tighter.

"He's purring!" his uncle exclaimed gleefully.

Keith let the purr rise, a physical way of expressing his sudden joy.

He had a home, but even better than that, he had a family.

For once in his life, he truly felt like he belonged. 

Chapter Text

The gentle scritch-scratch of pencil over paper was all the noise that came from the pride's room, as Keith sat amongst the nest of pillows and blankets, his sketchbook resting on his knees. Regris and Antok were away on a mission, and Thace, Kolivan, and the two doctors all had work to do on the base. So Keith had been left alone for the third day in a row, but he didn't mind. Not really.

He'd had lots of practice in being alone.

And it wasn't as if he was totally alone. The members of his pride that were on the base returned for night - well, the first night they did. Last night Ulaz and Valta had been stuck up late in the medical bay, after a recent mission resulted in severe injuries to the Blades on it. And Kolivan had already warned him that he might not be able to make it back tonight.

But it was okay. Thace would still be back.

Keith sighed and set the sketchbook aside, giving up on trying to draw hands that didn't have chubby baby fingers, or pointed twigs as the digits. He couldn't seem to find a happy medium, and his stomach decided in that moment to remind him of its existence.
He'd been prepared - Keith didn't like going to the canteen on his own - but his careful stash of protein bars and water bottles was completely gone.

Setting the sketchbook and pencil down, Keith stretched his stiff limbs, knowing full well that he should've done some training instead of sitting around all day. He didn't want to admit it, but the other Blades scared him a little. They were all bigger and stronger than him, and he'd heard their whispers.
He just...didn't feel comfortable in the base without his pride.

It was stupid, he shouldn't be so needy, he'd been alone before and he was fine.

Gritting his teeth, Keith swapped his comfy hoodie for a more Blade-like black top, then slipped out of his pride's room for the first time in three days. His ears flickered, tail starting to swish in agitation, but he concentrated on loosening it, aware now that the relatively-new limb often betrayed his emotions.

He wasn't scared of going to a canteen full of well-trained fierce massive ninja galra.

Nope. Not scared at all.

Keith slipped through the corridors with relatively silent ease, ducking his head whenever he passed other Blades. Nobody paid any notice to him, and he managed to make it to the canteen with no incidents.

Then things went downhill.

He joined the queue for food, momentarily confused as to why it was so long when he realised that a training session had just finished. The canteen was full of the strongest, most athletic Blades, all pumped from their fights and starving.

And Keith was in the middle of them.

He swallowed, his heart pounding as a couple of the Blades shoved past him in the queue, his breath catching in his throat and preventing him from saying anything. Which was probably for the best, he reckoned. Still, he couldn't stop the whine escaping him as he was jostled particularly roughly, his tail almost trodden on.

All at once, the noise of the canteen died down, and every galra in the room stared at him.

Keith's ears pinned down and his tail swished, the blood rushing to his cheeks as he felt all the eyes on him. His kit instincts were screaming at him to cower and submit; he managed to hold himself upright, but another whine slipped from his mouth.

"What is a kit doing here?" one galra asked.

The female Blade beside Keith grabbed his face in her large hands, and tilted him towards her. "This is Thace's nephew," she commented.

"He's certainly big for a kit of his age," someone else said.

The female frowned, still holding Keith's face. "That's because he's a half-breed," she spat, releasing him with a shove. Keith gasped and fell backwards, stopped only by the firm body of another Blade behind him.

"Watch it, kit," they growled, their claws digging into his shoulder. Keith yelped and stumbled away from them, only to narrowly avoid colliding with another galra.

Heart racing, he realised then that he was surrounded.

Submit! Submit! his kit instincts pleaded.

Fight! Fight! yelled the fires inside of him.

Slowly, Keith clenched his fists, and raised them. The female saw this and laughed.

"We're the best warriors here, kit. You can't take us."

"Maybe we should let him try," a burly Blade, similar in build to Sendak, suggested.

Keith gritted his teeth and moved into a defensive stance. But then someone grabbed his neck, and he fell completely limp, his muscles collapsing on some hidden command. The back of his neck ached, and dimly he was aware of being lifted by that tender patch of skin and fur.

"Not here. Let's take him to a better location," the burly Blade said

"Aww, how cute. He's still young enough to be scruffed," a different Blade jeered.

Keith tried to move, to take control of his limbs, but his body was completely unresponsive and limp. Terrified, he could do nothing as the group - about seven Blades, including the one holding him - marched out of the canteen, carrying him by the back of his neck. His scruff, they called it.

It made him so helpless.

Keith whined loudly, calling for his pride.

Thace! Ulaz! Valta! Kolivan! he wanted to cry, but the words just came out in kit-like noises.

"Silence!" a Blade snapped, and then he was flying, hitting the ground with a force that tore the air from his lungs. Gasping, Keith tried to get up, but his limbs were still unresponsive, shaking and trembling.

"You're not tough, kit. Don't even try to be."

"Can't fight us now, can you?"

"Stupid half-breed scum."

Keith whimpered as the last jeer ended in a harsh kick to his side, then another to his shin.

"Get up and fight, if you're so tough!"

Another kick.

Keith's eyes grew moist, and he tried to turn his face away, but the female from before grabbed him again and laughed. "He's crying already. Pathetic," she spat, releasing one hand only to curl it back into a punch.

He screamed as her fist connected with his cheek, the noise quickly turning into coughing and whimpers of pain.

Where are my pride? He wondered, where are they? I... I need them...

Something connected with his face again, smacking his head into the ground, and he coughed harder, tasting copper.

"P-please," he whined, "s-s-stop..."

"Maybe we should stop," a Blade said, after a moment of silence, broken only by Keith's weak coughs and whimpers.

"Have you learnt your lesson, half-breed?" the female hissed, right in his face.

What lesson? he wanted to ask, but managed a nodded, wincing as the motion aggravated his sore neck.

She punched him once more for good measure, then stood, and left with the rest of his attackers. Keith lay on the ground, body bruised and bleeding, waiting with ragged, trembling breaths until he was sure they were gone. Then he gathered the last of his strength and pushed himself up, standing on trembling feet, pressing a hand to his burning chest as he limped out of the dark room, grateful that he could see clearly in such dim light.

He just had to get to his pride's room. He'd be safe there.

For a moment he considered going to the med bay, but no, Ulaz and Valta were busy and he wasn't that hurt, besides, he was almost at the pride's room. So he pressed on, ducking into alcoves to let other Blades past, and finally stumbled into the room.

He couldn't help the feeble whine when he saw how empty it was.

It was the night-cycle, he knew that, but none of his pride were home.

They left me.

He collapsed in the nest, wrapping a blanket tight around himself, desperately fighting back the tears of hurt and pain and loneliness because it wasn't his pride's fault but it still hurt and the tears just kept falling...

Keith drifted, falling into the darkness that rushed to greet him with open arms.

Chapter Text

"Kit! Keith, can you hear me?"

"Quiznak, what happened?"

"He's bleeding, Val!"

Something pulled Keith from his soft blanket nest, and he whimpered, shivering at the cold.

"Shh, kit, it's okay. I've got you." Strong arms pulled him against a warm, soft chest, and he snuggled into it, his body still trembling. A rumble started in the person's chest, soothing him enough to stop most of the tremors.

Uncle Thace, his mind finally supplied.

"Who did this?" Ulaz growled.

"I'll review the security tapes," Kolivan said, anger coating his tone, "Those who hurt my kit will not get away with it."

"I'm going to kill them," Antok swore.

"Not if I kill them first," Thace muttered.

"He...he really doesn't look good," Regris whispered.

"No, he doesn't! So if you boys stop arguing about who's killing who, and let's get the kit some medical attention, okay?" Valta exclaimed.

They're here... My pride are all here... Keith keened, calling out to them all, and immediately a chorus of purrs responded.

"Yes, we're all here, kit," Thace soothed, and he said something else as well, but Keith was already drifting back into unconsciousness.

His eyes fluttered open again to a familiar room: the medical bay. Immediately Keith looked around for his pride, whining in distress as he saw that no one was there, he was alone, again.

But then a group of galra burst into the room, all of them making a beeline for his bed.

"Kit! You're awake!"

"Honestly we leave the room for one dobosh-!"

"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"

"You had us all so worried!"

Keith blinked, staring up at the worried faces of his pride, and managed a smile.

"M'okay," he responded groggily, "What happened?"

Valta and Ulaz exchanged a worried glance. "You suffered head trauma, broken nose, and three fractured ribs," the female doctor explained, "As well as some nasty bruising. You've been unconscious for a week, kit."

"Oh," was the only response he could think of.

"Who did this to you?" Antok asked, "Do you remember?"

Keith frowned. "Not really," he admitted, "they were just...big...and kept calling me half breed..."

"I know who did this," Kolivan said gruffly, "I know exactly who did this. Advak and his purists."

Regris' fists clenched. "They're quiznaking horrible!" he exclaimed, "They've always been nasty to me! I don't know why you let them be Blades!"

Kolivan sighed. "They're some of the strongest fighters we have. And I'd rather them be with us, than working with the Empire. Still, I will be having a word with them." His hand rested on Keith's shoulder, and the younger started at the touch. "No-one hurts my kit and gets away with it."

Keith's heart swelled at hearing the Blade's leader calling him my kit.

"You just need to focus on healing," Thace added, "And I promise, we won't leave you like that again."

"Next time, you'll either shadow us, or we'll make sure at least one of us is off duty," Ulaz added.

Keith's cheeks warmed. "Thank you," he whispered, "but you don't have to-"

"Shh, kit!" Thace exclaimed, "None of that! Of course we have to stick with you. You're part of our family, kit. We're not going to let anything else bad happen to you. I promise," he ended firmly, gathering Keith up into his arms. The bed sagged as Ulaz, Valta, and Regris all joined in, even Antok and Kolivan leaning over to hug Keith. Their purrs rumbled through him, cocooning him in a blanket of love and acceptance and family.

Chapter Text

Thace watched his kit training with Regris, marvelling at the younger's fluid motions. Keith used his tail as an asset now, rather than a hindrance, and the elegance he carried in a fight made it seem like more of a dance than a battle. It was mesmerising to watch, and Thace's chest swelled with pride. 

But the pride was soon replaced with worry as he caught sight of the group approaching the training room, Advak at the lead. Thace wasted no time in grabbing his comms.

"Ulaz, Advak's here. I need backup," he hissed.

"On my way," the doctor answered, and Thace straightened up, adopting an aggressive stance.

"What do you want?" he half-growled at the galra purists, the ones responsible for landing his kit in the med bay a phoeb ago.

"Simple. I want to train," Advak stated, his eyes narrowed.

Thace folded his arms. "This training room is occupied."

"Yes, by two kits!" one of his female companions exclaimed, "There's plenty of room for us."

"Regris isn't a kit!" Thace snapped, then growled as Advak shoved him roughly.

"Get out of our way," the larger Blade spat, entering the training room and heading straight for Keith. Thace scrambled back up to his feet, ready to charge in and defend his kit. But Keith had paused in his training with Regris and had straightened to his full height, eyes narrowed and glaring up at the Blade.

"I'm not a helpless half-breed kit," Keith said firmly, his knife gripped tightly in his left hand.

Advak laughed, "Oh, really? It seemed that way when you were pleading with us."

Regris moved to jump in, but Keith's tail flicked out in a way that said I've got this.

"You caught me at a bad time," Keith said, "My pride were all on missions, and I was tired and alone. But I'm not now." There was a spark in his eyes that Thace wasn't sure he liked.

"Let's settle this now. You, and me," his kit continued fiercely.

Advak grinned and motioned for his followers to back up. "I'd love to," he smirked.

"No!" Thace exclaimed, stepping forward, but his kit shot him a look. Don't worry. I've got this.

Reluctantly Thace stopped, instead standing on the sidelines with Regris. Both were tense, ready to jump in if Keith needed them.

The kit's ears were perked, tail swishing lightly, the light in his eyes one of determination. He raised his left hand, but kept the right one back, a move that confused Thace. Wasn't Keith more dominant with his right?

He didn't have time to wonder much more, as Advak soon charged forwards, activated blade in hand, swiping the sword at Keith. Thace gasped as he realised the kit was fighting with his mother's blade, not yet active for him.

He needs to take the Trials soon.

But Keith handled the knife with such skill, switching it from hand to hand as he darted around Advak's attacks, landing a few nimble slashes of his own. Soon he'd disarmed the older galra, but Advak was not deterred, changing his style to punches and swipes. Keith dodged the majority, but a right hook struck him in the chest, and he flew backwards, winded.

Ulaz and Valta chose that exact moment to turn up.

"What...!" Ulaz exclaimed, whilst Valta watched in silent shock and horror.

Thace hastily explained the situation, but from the narrowed eyes of both doctors, they were even less happy than he was.

A growl of frustration from Advak alerted Thace back to the fight, where his kit had got back up to his feet, his tail poised and upright behind him. Keith darted forwards, feigning a strike at Advak's arm, but as the older dodged, the kit's tail flicked out harshly, striking Advak's leg. Instantly Advak cried out, knees buckling as blood streamed down his calf.

"Do you yield?" Keith asked, looking down at his bully.

Advak groaned. "Yes," he grunted.

Regris whooped, and Thace, Ulaz, and Valta all ran forwards to embrace their kit.

"What were you thinking!" Thace chided.

Keith grinned. "I know you wanted to go after them, but I had to stand up to Advak some time. Show him I'm not afraid, and I'm not a helpless kit."

"That you're not," Valta agreed, but Ulaz's gaze was locked on Keith's tail.

"What's that?"

Keith brought the limb forwards, showing the glinting metal spike covering its tip. "This was Regris' idea," he said proudly, "I'm turning my tail into a weapon."

"Amazing," Kolivan commented, coming up behind them suddenly. Thace stepped aside to let their leader through.

Keith was blushing, his purple cheeks gaining a more reddish tinge. "Really?"

"Yes. I saw that whole fight, it was very brave of you, Keith," Kolivan said.

Keith beamed.

"In fact," the leader continued, "I've come to a very important decision." He looked pointedly at Thace, who immediately knew what it was. Subtley, he nodded.

Kolivan turned back to Keith. "It's time for you to take the Trials. You're ready to become a full-fledged Blade."

Chapter Text

Keith took a deep breath as he stood before the doors, the thin, skintight material of the training suit hugging his body almost uncomfortably. He gripped his mother's Blade tightly in his right hand, trying to find some security in the familiarity. The Trials would be tough; he hadn't even been allowed to wear the armoured spike for his tail, Kolivan insistent that the only weapon he was allowed was the knife.

This is it. Keith let out the breath he'd been holding as the doors opened, and he stepped through. 

A single masked Blade greeted him, their activated sword glowing in their hands. Without a word of warning, they surged forwards, and Keith barely dodged the swipe at his side. Darting around and under his opponent, he swiped up with his blade, but misjudged and was promptly tripped and pinned to the ground.

"Stop fighting, little kit," they growled. 

"Never," Keith hissed, even as he felt the Blade's sword tip brush against his neck. Mercifully, his opponent let up, and Keith scrambled to his feet. 

"You are not meant to go through that door," they stated. 

Keith glared at them and ran through said door, skidding to a halt as he saw two more Blades standing there. Again they charged, and again he fought back, taking a different approach this time. It was harder to evade two full-grown, sword-wielding galra, and by the time they'd pinned him Keith's shoulder was bleeding and so was his cheek, some of the blood trailing into his mouth.

"You are not meant to go through that door," they said again, and Keith ignored them, again.

Three vargas, many Blades and a lot of bloodshed later, Keith stood in front of a group of 25, sweat and blood mixing as they fell from his skin and splattered on the ground. His left arm was gorged and bloodied, multiple cuts laced his legs and torso, and the shoulder wound was bleeding the heaviest, leaving Keith very dizzy.

I really wasn't meant to go through that door, he thought dimly, watching as the platforms holding the Blades lowered.

That's it!

As they ran towards him, he gathered up the last of his strength and ran as well, throwing his knife so it caught in the mechanism. Leaning backwards, he skidded the last distance through the gap, his tail flicking out to seize the knife before he fell down. The room that greeted him was bare, and he stumbled forwards, his head spinning.

"Get up!" someone yelled, and dimly Keith realised he'd collapsed on the ground.

"Th-thace?" he stammered. 

"Get up," his uncle commanded, "Or are you too weak?" 

What?

Keith managed to raise his head, staring at Thace's outstretched hand, then blinked, seeing the other members of his pride behind Thace suddenly. 

"He is too weak," Antok remarked, "He'll never be strong enough."

"Look at all this mess, he's not worth keeping around," Ulaz sighed. 

"You ran away from a fight? How pathetic are you?" Regris jeered.

"Just give up, kit," Kolivan sighed, "It's not worth it."

Keith's eyes welled with tears, as the pain of their words struck harder than any of the blows on his battered body. But the hurt soon morphed into anger, and he struggled to his feet, glaring at them.

"No," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "I won't, I... I can't give up. Not again."

"Very well," Thace commented, "Then you're on your own." He turned and walked away, the others following, Keith standing frozen for a moment. 

"Wait!" he cried, "Wait, no, please, don't go!"

Keith half-ran, half-stumbled after them, but his way was blocked by the sudden appearance of a man clad in white and black.

"They don't want you, Keith."

"Sh-shiro?" Keith stammered.

Shiro smirked. "Yes. It's me."

"We're all here, Keith," Pidge said, coming up behind him. 

"We needed you," Hunk stated softly. 

"But you left us," Lance spat, his blue eyes blazing.

"Wh-what?" Keith exclaimed, "You...you kicked me out, you-!" 

"We didn't kick you out," Allura interjected smoothly, "We agreed to keep you prisoner, even though you are our enemy, a deceptive little liar. But you couldn't stand it, could you?"

"You weren't strong enough. Not like me," Shiro laughed, "I was strong enough to cope as a prisoner. You ran away the first time you could."

"You left us," Lance repeated.

Keith stumbled back as they advanced. "I- no, I didn't! You didn't want me, you- you-!" 

"Oh, no one wants you Keith," Shiro spat, "You're so pathetic. We're glad you're gone; you were never worthy of being a Paladin."

Keith turned away and closed his eyes, trying desperately to stop the tears that were forming. It was too late; Shiro saw, and his laugh rang out, cold and harsh, soon joined by the others. Keith shoved past Pidge, bolting towards the door, and threw himself through, shutting it quickly behind him. Gasping, he roughly rubbed at his eyes, their words hammering in his mind as he turned back to survey the next room. 

His dad was sat there.

Keith blinked, and blinked again, because this couldn't be their shack, his father was dead, he, he....! 

"Hello Keith," his dad said softly. 

"Dad," Keith breathed, running forwards and hugging him, his wounds suddenly forgotten. His father held him tight, and he let out a soft purr, knowing this was a dream but dissolving into it all the same.

"You look just like your ma," his dad said as they pulled back, "She'd be so proud of you."

"But no one else is," Keith murmured.

"I am, son. I'm proud of you."

Keith's heart swelled, but then there was an explosion that shook the shack, almost knocking them over. 

"What-?" 
"It's your mother. She's almost here," his father explained, "But I want you to stay here with me. I'm the only one who cares about you."

Keith's mind flashed back to the previous encounters with the paladins and his pride, and tears stung his cheeks again as he realised his father was speaking the truth.

Another explosion made the walls tremble, and Keith darted over to the window, staring out at the destruction. Thousands upon thousands of galra soldiers marched across the desert, their ships overhead raining fire down on what Keith knew to be the Garrison.

I can't stay here helpless. I need to go out there. 

Keith spun and headed for the door, but a hand on his shoulder halted him. 

"Don't go out there, Keith," his dad said.

Keith stood frozen. "They need me."

"No, they don't. If you go out there, you'll be rejected again."

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and forcefully stepped out of his father's hold. "I don't care. I need to help them." One hand reached for the door handle, another tightening around his knife before he dared a glance back, committing his father's features to memory once more. 

"I love you, Dad," Keith whispered.

Then he turned the handle and left the shack, the knife glowing in his hand. 

Chapter Text

Thace stood with his arms folded and his ears pinned down as he observed his kit's Trials. It was painful, watching as his kit was repeatedly injured and weakened, but he was proud of Keith for withstanding it so long.

What hurt even more, though, was his doppelganger, cold and harsh and cruel.

That's not true, Thace pleaded silently as he observed, I would never think you weak, kit. Nor would I leave you. Please don't believe this.

Then the paladins of Voltron came, and the look on Keith's face - a lack of surprise and resigned acceptance - told the galra that his kit had heard similar words from them before.

If Kolivan and Ulaz weren't so insistent on having Voltron as allies, Thace would be on that castle-ship avenging his kit in a heartbeat. Instead he had to watch in silent, growing anger, not even faded when Keith's hallucinations shifted and showed him a human, presumably the man his sister had married.

Thace...honestly couldn't see what she'd seen in the man. He was rather plain looking, and seemed to regard Keith with coldness. But then, it wasn't a true depiction of the man, so likely there was more to him.

Keith was fully immersed in the illusions, and though his mind was okay, his body was weak and failing, tail and ears drooping, knees quivering like they were about to give way. Thace was amazed that the kit was still standing.

But as soon as Krolia's blade - no, Keith's blade now - started glowing, the kit's eyes fluttered and he swayed, losing consciousness. Thace darted into the room, ignoring Kolivan's protests, and caught his kit before he hit the ground. For a terrifying moment Keith's body was limp and frozen, but his chest was soon visibly moving, and Thace sighed with relief. Kolivan and Ulaz came in not a dobosh later, the leader picking up the activated blade.

"He passed," Kolivan remarked, with both surprise and relief.

"It's taken a lot out of him though," Ulaz said worriedly, "We need to take him to the med bay."

Kolivan's brow furrowed. "It's not protocol-"

"I don't give a quiznak about protocol," Ulaz snapped, "You let a kit take the Trials, and that was bad enough. He needs medical attention."

"Alright," Kolivan relented, though Thace could see in his eyes that he was very much concerned for the kit, too.

Slowly, gingerly, Thace stood up, Keith cradled in his arms, and followed Ulaz out to the med bay. They travelled in silence, the doctor clearly annoyed at the leader, but as soon as they reached the bay, the silence was broken by Valta.

"Oh no! Is he okay? Did he fail?" She rushed over, scanning Keith's injuries the tick Thace laid the kit down on a bed.

"No, he passed, but I insisted he get medical attention," Ulaz answered.

"Well of course!" Valta completed the scan, and frowned at the results. "Two fractured ribs, multiple lacerations, the shoulder will need stitches and the arm might need surgery... Quiznak, what did you put him through?"

"The same Trials as we all face," Kolivan answered coolly, "The kit was just more resilient than most."

"He fought until 25," Thace added proudly.

Valta's eyes widened: most galra struggled to make it to 15. Kolivan himself held the highest record, of 27. The kit had come so close! She looked at him with even more pride and admiration. Despite everything that he'd gone through, all the trauma from his childhood on a foreign planet to the racist mistreatment from Voltron, Keith was still coming out stronger.

"He is stronger than the best of us," Kolivan noted then, as if reading her mind.

"But he's still a kit." Ulaz applied the medical patches to Keith's largest wounds, trying to fix them without stitches and surgery, but he did so with a little more force and anger. Clearly, he did not agree with what had gone on at the Trials.

Surprisingly, Thace was calm about everything, not expressing his protectiveness over his kit. He watched closely over the doctors but made no comment on the Trials. He knew Keith had suffered throughout, but that was why they were called Trials, not A Simple Quiz And Then You Can Be A Part Of Our Secret Organisation. The Trials were designed to test both the physical and the mental.

Thace had not liked watching them, but he knew what had to be done. And he was so, so proud of his kit. He just wanted Keith to wake up so he could tell him that himself.

"How long until he's conscious?" Thace asked, a little impatient.

Ulaz scowled. "A while."

Valta shot a glare at her fellow doctor then shrugged. "Can't tell, but I imagine it might be a quintant. He needs time to recover mentally as well as physically."

Thace's expression fell.

"We can finish the adjustments to his suit," Kolivan suggested, "Check the measurements while he's resting."

"Yes, I suppose," Thace sighed.

Kolivan hesitated, then placed his large hand on Thace's shoulder. "I understand your concern for the kit," he rumbled, "Keith is strong, he will be okay."

"It's not just that, I... I need him to know that I'm here. That what he saw was a lie, that I... I would never leave him," Thace confessed.

"I think he knows that," Valta said softly, motioning to the kit. Thace looked down to see that Keith's tail was wrapped around his left wrist, and the kit was purring gently.

"Go on," Ulaz said, moving the medical bag from the large bed.

Slowly, as to not disturb the sleeping, healing kit, Thace shuffled onto the bed, lying down beside his kit. Keith's tail flicked, moving away from Thace's wrist, only to twine around his waist. The older galra gently wrapped his arms around his kit, nuzzling the thick, dark hair and purring soothingly. Keith purred back in response, a completely subconscious kit reaction, and Thace felt something else melt in his chest.

His kit was strong, a fighter, but he was also very precious, and deserved all the love and comfort in the universe.

"I'm so proud, kit," Thace whispered, "Your mother would be so proud of you, too."

Keith slept on, but Thace would repeat it all when he woke, because his kit deserved all the praise and admiration. And, even if his kit subconsciously knew that he would never leave, Thace was going tell him that every day so he would truly, utterly believe it.

Somehow, this little half-breed kit had become Thace's world, and he wouldn't trade him for anything.