Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pidge was many things – daring, inquisitive, stubborn, and determined – but this? This was not something any of them would have expected. She rarely looked in the mirror; if she did, she would remember the time she had to cut her hair. She loved her long hair. The short, unruly hair she donned for months now was a reminder of her mission to find her brother and father. She promised herself that until she did so, her hair would never get past her shoulders. However, it was not her hair that got her alarmed. It was what her long bangs were barely covering -

- Two, sickle-shaped markings glowing just beneath her eyes.

The Green Paladin gripped the sink tightly as the world seemingly spun around her. “How…?” The markings she knew very well were Altean - the same markings that Allura and Coran had. What bothered her was not the glowing but the fact that it was not there before in her fifteen years of living.

The youngest Paladin gingerly reached with one hand and winced. It hurt like hell. It was red around the edges, and she was sure her upper cheeks were swollen. She did not know exactly what triggered them, but when she removed her helmet to get changed after a harrowing day of rescuing escapees from a nearby Galran prison, that was when the markings made themselves known. The others did not know; she only took her helmet off when she arrived in her bedroom. She doubted she would tell others.

Pidge was not Altean, that was for sure. Neither her brother nor her parents. She did not have the same, elven ears as Allura and Coran, nor did she contract the same illnesses as them. Definitely not. Having Slipperies was not something she would like to experience. No, thank you. Her parents had both her and Matt do DNA tests for verification purposes when they were no older than five. It was a mandatory requirement for all those training and working in the Galaxy Garrison and their families. When she entered as Pidge Gunderson, she made sure to fabricate his DNA tests as well. She did not want Iverson to suspect anything about Pidge in relation to the Holts.

The Green Paladin would definitely not tell the others.

Maybe not now, not until the smallest Paladin uncovered its mystery. Slipping into her green and white, high-collared jumper, she pondered how to cover up the markings. She did not have any makeup to use, and she did not want to ask Allura if she had any. She did not want her poking in her business and knowing about it before she had the chance to get answers on her own. She irritably blew her bangs, only to discover that the markings had disappeared. Pidge patted her cheeks once and twice, which, for some reason, had stopped hurting. The redness was still there, but the swelling had subsided exponentially. At that moment, she wondered if she was losing more sleep than she initially thought.

The second time it happened, the Green Paladin was trapped in an underground facility three movements later. She almost forgot about it, having received intel about the possible whereabouts of her brother two movements prior. She went alone; the other Paladins were sent on their own missions. Her intel and the mission she got coincided on the same planet. The locals were kind enough to escort her to her destination and warn her about the dangers. The youngest Paladin listened, she really did, but the thought of finally reuniting with her brother got the best of her. The facility was considered forbidden by the locals, as they believed it to be the home of the restless dead, and gave a few wards to protect Pidge in her search. She kept them as a sign of goodwill, but it was not the dead that roamed the thousand-deca-phoeb-old facility, but things that were never alive to begin with. Rogue robots of many sizes and shapes – all malfunctioning of age and rust – chased after her. Before long, she stumbled upon a self-destructing mechanism that was supposed to eliminate the robots all at once. What she did not expect was that they would explode rather than shut down.

The simultaneous explosions were massive and swiftly brought down the unstable foundations of the facility with it. The Green Paladin barely managed to slip into a small, enclosed room before the ceiling caved in and effectively blocked her only way out. She tried reaching out to her Lion, but she doubted Green could immediately get her out of the hundred-mile deep prison. She decided to reserve her energy for now and wait until the Castle of Lions noticed her absence.

The smallest Paladin did not know how long she was trapped. A few vargas? A quintant? It was difficult to know just by seeing. The place was pitch black, and she could hear nothing but her breathing and the rumble of her Lion in her mind. She knew her Lion was far above on the surface, but her supposed rescuer had yet to notice her disappearance. She already tried to use the light from her armor, but her search for an exit was proving to be impossible. She decided to sleep again and wait.

The next time Pidge was pulled out of sleep, bright light filtered against her eyelids. She thought she must have left her visor open…only to discover that the markings had returned. For some reason, she felt warm, almost elated. She did not know what it meant, but when she heard the voices from the other side of the wreckage and the explosions that followed shortly, she knew that her friends had come to rescue her. The debris cleared, and dust filled the air. She heard her name being called simultaneously, and arms helping her up. Someone carried her in bridal style, and hands were gently brushing her bangs and squeezing her hand to assure she was safe now. That she would be going home.

The markings were gone before any of them had seen it.

The third time it happened, the Green Paladin was busy fiddling with the wiring of the lighting system of Red’s hangar. Keith told her that the lights had been acting up as of late and asked if she could check it for any computer bugs. The smaller Paladin obliged and accessed the hangar’s control via her laptop. The systems showed no sign of any bugs, but the map had a red spot active. The problem seemed to come from a tangible source rather than a digital one.

Pidge climbed the ladder next to the control panel and began fiddling with the buttons and wires as she tried to find where the problem lay. She found it – an old wire frazzled in the middle. The two ends were almost about to split and needed to be changed. Fortunately, she brought some spares in her pocket and temporarily cut off the hangar from the Balmeran crystal. Carefully detaching the frazzled wire from its slots, she began attaching the new one. Once finished, she switched on the hangar’s connection to the crystal.

Nothing happened.

The Green Paladin frowned as she shone her light on the control panel to see if she had missed something. The shadows from the other wires were blocking parts of her work, and she leaned closer to get a better view. Her foot missed the step, and she slipped. There was a brief moment of weightlessness and pain on her cheeks when something grabbed her by the collar.

The youngest Paladin lifted her head to see the Red Lion holding her by his mouth. His yellow eyes glowed brightly against the darkness as he lowered her carefully back to the ground. She could see the light from the markings at the corner of her eyes, but her gaze was transfixed on the Lion – not her Lion – who just saved her life. He cast her an acknowledging look – almost a fond one – before returning to his previous position. His eyes dimmed right before the lights flickered back on in the hangar.

The fourth happened a movement after, and it was an ugly situation. The Castle of Lions received a distress signal from a planet in the same star system as Olkarion. The planet was thousands of light-years away, hidden just by the edge of an asteroid belt. It was nothing like Olkarion. Where Olkarion thrived in the harmony of nature and technology, the planet was almost at the end of its days. Its rocky terrain was inhospitable, with an atmosphere so thin and waters dark and murky to sustain any more life. The last of its dwellers were gaunt and weak, barely able to speak. They told them of the Galran druids who were sucking up the planet’s quintessence for hundreds of deca-phoebs and their wish to see their planet free one last time. The Paladins were reluctant to leave them in such a state, but the Allura and Coran assured them they would stay to watch over them. Shiro promised them that they would grant their wish no matter what.

Their march toward the Galran facility was the shortest one yet, and within a few doboshes, Pidge had sneaked them in without raising alarm. They found the druids in the heart of a facility, taking the last remnants of the planet’s life force. The battle that ensued was a ruthless one. The Paladins were angry. This planet and its people deserved better, better than being fodder for the Galran Empire. The druids fought back but were overwhelmed.

All except one.

One who was looking down at the Green Paladin.

The druid sneered at her, taunting her for being so small and so weak, so helpless in the face of her foes. Pidge wanted to rip that mask off her face and smack her bayard on her face. The sharp end of her bayard lurched forward, but the Galra seamlessly disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Her cackle echoed off the walls as she mocked her and reappeared behind the Paladin, stabbing her sword on the latter’s back. Pain blossomed on the Green Paladin’s stomach as she shrieked and fell to her knees. Blood splattered on the ground beneath her as the druid cackled in delight as she twisted the sword against her flesh. Someone was calling the former’s name, but it seemed so far away.

“Pitiful Paladin.” The Galra cooed. “So weak, so small, and in such wonderful pain.”

Anger surged in the smallest Paladin, as palpable as her Lion’s. Green was a voice in her mind urging her to fight back, and her cheeks were burning up like hot iron. Her hand reached out to the blade on her back and pulled it off in quick agonizing ticks. The druid stumbled back as Pidge twisted and turned. The latter’s feet leaped off the ground as her bayard pierced through the flesh of the long-dead. The Galra trembled beneath her, eyes wide in fear through her mask’s sockets.

“A-Ancient One…!”

And then, the druid exploded into ashes and the scent of tar. The world slunk into darkness as Pidge collapsed and the markings faded. The last thing she remembered was the colors of blue and yellow before everything dissolved into nothingness. And then -

- Pidge was dreaming, and in her dream, she was a little girl again of seven years. She sat on her father’s lap as she and her brother pored over a photo album. Sam flipped to the next page, and an old photo caught Matt’s attention.

“Dad? Who’s that?” Her older brother pointed to the photo, which had browned on the edges. A man and a woman were standing before what seemed to be the Colosseum in Italy. The man had an arm around the woman’s shoulders, who was smiling tenderly at the camera.

“They,” Sam told them. “Are your grandparents. That’s your grandfather, Jacob Holt, and this,” He tapped gently on the woman. A fond look in his eyes. “Is your grandmother, Ariela Holt.”

Matt blinked at him and then peered at Katie. “She looked like Katie.”

Her brother was right. The woman in the photo was strikingly beautiful, almost divine. She was almost as tall as her husband, and her eyes were kind and intelligent, as if she had seen the secrets of the universe and lived more years than anyone could. The way their grandmother’s eyes crinkled and lips turned into a smile was similar to the younger Holt’s, if not less mischievous. She looked like an older version of Katie with longer hair down to her waist and a loving and motherly gaze that seemed to penetrate from the photo itself.

Their father chuckled, patting his daughter on the head. “Yes, yes, she does.” Katie looked at him with bright, curious eyes. “And I believed she’s destined for greatness.”

“Like me!” Matt grinned, puffing his chest.

“Of course.” Sam smiled, ruffling his hair. “It runs in the family.”