Chapter Text
“Lance. Lance? Lance!”
“Huh what? What's going on? What's happening? Is the castle under attack,” Lance questioned as he jumped out of bed ready to attack.
“Castle? What are you- have you been falling asleep while reading again? I’ve told you many times to put the book down if you feel tired,” Coran said. “You always wake up speaking nonsense the next day, my boy.”
“You’ve never told me about any of that,” Lance retorted, confused. “And reading? Really Coran, you know I can’t read Altean.”
“That’s Papa, to you, my boy. You’ve never spoken to me by my name,” Coran said with a sad look in his eyes. “And what’s this about not being able to read Altean? That’s all you’ve been reading since you were old enough to read. Are you coming down with something, son? Do you need me to get you some medicine?”
Coran gently placed his hand up to Lance’s forehead, but he didn’t feel Lance any warmer than he should be. Coran walked out of Lance’s room, after that, shouting that Lance needed to get ready, because they needed to go to town.
After Lance got ready, and ate a “traditional” Altean breakfast that Coran made, they made their way into town.
Lance couldn’t help himself as he looked around with awe. The walk to town was beautiful. The scenery was so green. There were rows of trees, as tall as the Sequoias on Earth, blades of grass that went up to his ankles, and once they finally got to a road, there was a river that ran next to them. Water as blue as the one at home. He wanted to desperately jump into it, but he didn’t know how Coran would feel about that, so he restrained himself.
When they finally made it into town, which was only ten minutes away by foot, Lance was struck with more awe. The town was vibrant with life: different colored buildings, stands full of exotic foods, and people. The people were definitely a sight within themselves. They were all Altean; a whole town full of them. They all wore different colors, adding vibrancy to the town. Everyone looked different, and they each had a unique set of Altean markings. At the sight of all their markings, Lance couldn’t help but reach for his own. He was shocked when he looked into the mirror as he was getting ready and noticed the same sticking blue markings that Coran also sported. He looked the same except for the blue markings and his now Altean, or elven, as Lance has decided to dub them, ears.
As Lance looked around he hoped that maybe he would find his friends around, considering that Coran was there in this weird freaky dream world, but the more he looked, the less hope he had.
“Hey, um, Papa,” Lance said as he wrapped his arm around Coran’s.
“Yes, my boy,” Coran responded as he patted Lance’s hand that was resting at the crook of his arm.
“Where is Allura? Or Hunk? Or Pidge? Or Shiro? Or Keith?”
Coran gave him a look of confusion, “I don’t think I have ever heard any of those names. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”
Lance almost wanted to cry. How could Coran be here but none of his other friends? It just didn’t make sense.
“Maybe you should go home and lie down,” Coran said as he unhinged himself from Lance’s grasp, and handed him the key home. “Go on now. I’ll buy supplies for a nice soup that will have you better in no time.”
Lance watched Coran walk away, confused by it all.
On his way out of town he was walking absentmindedly so that he didn’t notice someone in front of him, so he bumped right into them.
“I am so sorry,” Lance started as his thoughts reeled back in, “I wasn’t looking.... Lotor?”
Lance froze up as he made eye contact with Lotor, who was now full Altean. His purple markings on full display.
“Ah, Lance, I see, you just can’t stay away from me,” Lotor said, giving Lance a charming smile.
“You’re... you’re not,” Lance started not able to actually get his thoughts into words. “You’re not Galra.”
The smile on Lotor’s face was quickly wiped off and was replaced with a scowl, “Are you still referencing those silly child’s tales? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t have to go and read to the kids every day. You should be settling down, finding a reasonable, respected spouse. Like me”
“Stories,” Lance muttered under his breath, then looked at Lotor, “where do I go to read to the kids?”
“What? You go there every day,” Lotor responded.
“Yes, I do, but,” Lance said trying to think of something, “but, umm.”
“Ah, I see. You want me to accompany you,” Lotor said with a smirk.
Lance grimaced but still forced a smile onto his face, “of course, so if you wouldn't mind.”
The whole way to the library, Lotor went on and on about himself, about how rich he was, and how he could provide for himself and someone else, if any one ever decided to come along. Lance tuned him out most of the time and only nodded or hummed in acknowledgment when Lotor looked at him.
When they arrived at the library, Lance rushed into the building and made way for the children section. He searched through all the books but he couldn’t find any on Voltron.
“Lance,” Lotor said behind him, “why did you run off, and in the middle of me talking at that.”
“Not now Lotor,” Lance scowled and turned away. “Thank you for walking me here, but I just need to look for something, so uh, bye.”
It was getting dark by the time Lance gave up looking for the book, so he decided to go home, or where he would be sleeping until this dream was over.
On his walk back, Lance couldn't help but think about everything. Why did he all of a sudden wake up in this dream? Why weren’t any of the others here with him? If he fell asleep will he wake up back at the castle? Why did he dream that Coran was his dad? Why is Lotor here instead of his friends? How did he dream up such beautiful scenery?
He unlocked the door to his so-called home and Coran quickly ran up and hugged him. Shocked by this, Lance stood stiff in Coran’s arms.
“I was so worried,” Coran huffed into Lance’s neck. “Where have you been all day?”
“I was at the library,” Lance said, wrapping his arms around Coran.
“Your book is still here. You never go to the library without it. Why do you think I was so worried,” Coran said, pulling away.
“My book? It’s mine,” Lance pulled away from Coran. “Is it in my room?”
Coran nodded and before he could even question Lance, Lance was half way to his room.
Once Lance found his book, he skimmed through it and realized that these stories were based off of Voltron’s origin story that they were told. Alfor, Zarkon, Trigel, Blaytz, and Gyrgan, all of the paladins of old, and this book was full of stories of them, up until the very end of the Galra defeat. It was all just a story, and the paladins of old won the day, against Zarkon.
“That was your favorite book as a child,” Coran said from behind him. “You always asked me to read it to you every night.”
Lance just sat on his bed confused by it all. Did he just make everyone else up? The whole journey? Was any of his time in space real? Was he always Altean? Were the Galra just a race that was in a book?
“Well, I just came up to tell you that I’ll be going to the city to work at the docks, tomorrow. So you’ll be on your own for two weeks.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes,” Coran said confused, “I go for two weeks every two months. I’m starting to think I shouldn’t be leaving you.”
“No,” Lance said, “I’m fine. I just lost track of time. I hadn’t realized that two months had passed, that’s all.”
He gave a weak smile to Coran, who returned a grander one back.
The next day, when Lance woke up, he expected to be back in the castle and be released from this strange dream, but that didn’t happen. He woke up in the same bed that he went to sleep in. Later that morning, Coran hugged Lance goodbye and got onto his horse, to be on his way. Lance wasn’t sure what to do for the next two weeks on his own, but he knew he was going to try to figure out how to get out of this weird world he conjured up, or figure out if all of his time in space was a dream.