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Diplomatic parties were never Keith’s forte.
He tried to make himself as small as possible, standing in a corner that he thought was shadowed enough to hide him from the bubble of chatter surrounding him at all sides. He held a glass in one hand, the other tucked under his arm as he kept a well-trained eye on the party, ready for any sort of disturbance. But it looked like this party - just like every other diplomatic event Keith had been to - was going to be just as boring as the ones before.
Keith made a face, tugging at his high collar. Now more than ever he wished he’d pleaded with Shiro a little more to make an exception for tonight. These aliens had high standards and therefore it was the first party Keith had been to that formal attire was a requirement. Normally everyone just went in their Paladin armor and things were fine, but the king of this particular planet had a very stuck-up version of the word ‘class’. In order to impress him, Allura explained, they had to wear the best fabrics Altea had to offer.
Though, really, Keith thought, frowning down at his attire, the bright red sash marking him as the pilot of the Red Lion was a bit much. As were the matching epaulets he flicked at occasionally when he got particularly bored. And the high collar of the bright white dress shirt felt like it was suffocating him. Especially since the zipper on the side was chafing his arm through the fabric every time he moved.
Things could be worse, though, he supposed. He could have been wearing the uncomfortable straight-jacket looking thing he saw several aliens wearing. He’d take white pants and shoes almost a size too small any day over whatever that was.
Keith took a careful sip from his cup. He could see Lance chatting up a few alien girls who were giggling as he gestured dramatically. Hunk and Pidge were deep in conversation a few feet away from Lance, while Allura and Shiro were smiling politely while the King rambled from his extravagant throne. Coran stood a few feet away from them, looking half-bored and half-annoyed at the King’s apparently endless chatter.
Keith sighed. He hated parties like these. As soon as Shiro was free, he was going to ask for the umpteenth time if he could just leave early. Technically he could have left as soon as the party started, but he was sure it wouldn’t leave a shining impression of the Paladins of Voltron. Maybe now that he’d been seen at the party for at least a little bit, the King would be a bit more lenient about him leaving.
A loud guffaw echoed over the party. Keith couldn’t help but flinch at the noise, turning to see who had made it. The King, apparently very amused, was waving Allura and Shiro away from him to turn to another visitor. Keith took a step forward. Now was his chance.
He awkwardly maneuvered around the partygoers, apologizing when he stepped on someone’s toes or the train of a ridiculously long dress.
The whole way over to Shiro and Allura, Keith couldn’t shake the sensation of someone watching him from behind. But whenever he turned around, the only people looking at him were those that had taken notice of his ridiculous sash and were whispering to each other.
Keith reached Shiro and Allura, who had tucked themselves next to the punch table and were holding their own cups and murmuring to each other. Shiro smiled at him as Keith approached and he greeted his younger brother cheerfully as he joined their group.
Shiro was dressed the same as Keith, but his epaulets and sash were black rather than red. Allura had also fastened a pin to his chest that was supposed to represent leadership or something. Honestly, Keith hadn’t listened much to what she’d said prior to the party, too busy grumbling to Pidge about the ridiculous outfits as she nodded in agreement and tried in vain to tame her hair into something reasonable.
Allura was wearing her best dress with jewels encrusted into the hem and her hair made up in an extravagant updo that framed her face quite nicely. She’d kept a diplomatic smile up the whole night and it softened into a genuine one when she saw Keith.
“Hey, bud,” Shiro said. “How you feeling? Party going okay?” Keith made a face, putting his cup down on the table beside him. Shiro sighed, frowning. “That bad, huh? Well, don’t worry. We’re really getting some progress on the negotiation talks with the King. Just hold out for a bit longer, okay?”
“About that…” Keith scrubbed a hand down his face. “Can I...leave early? Is that okay?”
Shiro exchanged a look with Allura. “I’m not sure. We’re out of the danger zone, but the King still might see one of us leaving as a sign of betrayal.”
Keith sighed. “So no chance, huh?”
“Sorry, buddy,” Shiro said sympathetically. “I know how much you hate these kinds of things.”
“It will only be for a little while longer,” Allura promised.
Keith grunted in annoyance but nodded. He sighed and reached blindly for his cup, grabbing it and lifting it to his lips. He paused, whipping his head around and narrowing his eyes over the crowd once more.
He could have sworn…
“Keith?” Shiro called softly. “You okay?”
“I… yeah,” Keith swallowed thickly. Again, he could have sworn he felt eyes upon him but again, there was no one. “I’m fine. Just...being paranoid.” He huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “I’m gonna go get some air. There is a balcony, right?”
Allura nodded. “Be mindful of the temperature. This is a very cold planet, after all.”
“I will,” Keith promised. He bid Allura and Shiro a grumpy farewell and headed for the large archway that he vaguely remembered seeing a balcony for. He took his cup with him on his way out, nodding at Hunk and Pidge as he passed, donned in green and yellow sashes and epaulets respectively.
Stepping out into the cold, Keith let the blast of cool air clear his mind. He was only being paranoid because there was a lot of people around. He never did too well around crowds and being in space as a Defender of the Universe wouldn’t change that.
The balcony was - thankfully - empty. The partygoers had probably been chased inside by the cold, but Keith found it refreshing. He made his way to the railing and set his cup down on the granite, leaning his forearms against it. He moved, lifting a leg to cross it behind the other and rock back and forth as he stared out over the sky. He took an absent sip from his cup as he watched clouds heavy with snow drift lazily to cover the enormous moon illuminating the alien city.
It was an ethereal sight. A much-welcome change to the heat and the bodies and the noise of inside. Keith sucked in a deep breath, holding the crisp air for a moment, before releasing it in a puff of clouded breath. He took another sip from his drink.
And blinked.
And blinked again.
Because he was fairly certain the world was a lot blurrier than it was a second ago.
He swallowed thickly and blinked several more times, but the more he blinked the harder it became to see. His head started spinning, like he’d been hit with a terrible case of vertigo. It felt like something was dragging him down, down and then suddenly he was lying on his back on the cold balcony floor, disoriented and groaning softly.
With difficulty, he managed to make out a set of footsteps tromping towards him. He shifted, trying to figure out who was headed his way, but his limbs felt like they’d been replaced with lead.
With difficulty, he made out the cup still sitting innocently on the balcony. A brief rush of clarity cleared Keith’s mind for a moment as he understood just what was happening to him.
His cup.
He’d set down his cup.
Somebody had spiked it.
It was the last conscious thought Keith had before everything went dark.
Keith awoke to hushed voices and the sound of shuffling. He shifted, trying to move, but the drug hadn’t completely left his system. He was still dead weight, all of his limbs refusing any command he tried to give them. He almost groaned in annoyance.
He could smell dirt, he realized. And it took another minute for his numb face to realize that he had been pressed face-down into the ground. Dirt had risen up all around his face and he was practically inhaling it with every slow breath. He wanted to move to get the rocks out of his nose, but he was still paralyzed on the ground. His brain was still sluggish as he tried desperately to focus on the voices. They were growing in volume and urgency and he had reason to believe they were the ones who’d drugged him, so it was important he listen.
He had to strain his ears to get them to work properly beyond just feeling like he was wearing a particularly fluffy pair of earmuffs. Inhaling another cascade of dirt and tiny pebbles, Keith listened to the two frantic voices above him that were oddly bubbly and high-pitched. Definitely aliens.
“...don’t have much time,” one alien was saying. “We should do it here - now. His teammates will come looking before long.”
“No, not here,” the other shot back. “Somewhere else. They’ll hear.”
“No one else is around,” the first insisted. “We have to do it here and drop the body somewhere the Paladins will find. We won’t get another chance.”
The second alien cursed under his breath and there was a soft shink of a knife sliding out of a sheath. Keith felt his blood run cold as he realized just what exactly he’d gotten himself into. He tried to wriggle, force the rest of the drug out of his system, but he remained just as prone as he’d been a few minutes ago.
“Why His Majesty chose to team up with Galra is beyond me,” hissed the first alien, unparalleled malice in his voice.
“Don’t worry,” the second said. “We’ll show him the errors of his ways as soon as the Paladins see his body. Then, when the Paladins think it was one of the natives, it’ll crush any alliance they could have had. That’ll teach His Majesty about coercing with Galra sympathizers.”
Keith tried desperately to wiggle and in that struggle, he managed to get a finger to twitch. It wasn’t what he was going for, but it made relief jump-start the rest of his brain into working. He tried again, this time into moving his arms. Neither of his arms had been bound, he realized. The aliens had probably been confident in the drug they’d used.
The cold steel of a knife pressed into Keith’s cheek. It was dragged along his cheek, slicing open his skin and droplets of blood began to roll down the swell of Keith’s face. Terror flooded him.
These aliens were serious.
The last of the drugs started to graciously fade from Keith’s system. He still felt numb, but at least he was finally starting to be able to move. With concentrated effort, Keith forced his eyes to open. The clouds had long since covered the sky, so he couldn’t get a good glimpse of their faces, but from the sharp gasps above him, he knew they’d noticed he’d awakened.
Keith threw his body to the side as the knife came down for his throat. Dirt rubbed into his pristine outfit, probably staining it forever, but Keith was sure Coran would forgive him if he knew the circumstances. Desperately, Keith reached out blindly with one arm and grasped desperately at the shape directly in front of him. He could vaguely make out a rough, scabby texture.
Bark? A tree?
Keith gripped it tightly, trying to use whatever strength had come back to him to lift himself to his feet. He couldn’t get a good enough hold, though, and ended up awkwardly grasping at the bark. The two aliens behind him hissed angrily.
“Stop resisting,” they snarled. One of them kicked him in the back and the sudden burst of pain from overwhelming numbness made Keith cry out. He shuddered, trying desperately to focus.
He could hear voices, he realized. Panicked, scared voices from above. They must have been closer to the palace then he thought. He really must have not been out for very long.
Keith tugged again, trying in vain to get his legs to work and find purchase on the ground. He dug grooves into the dirt with his mad flailing and was making more of a mess then a concentrated effort to stand up.
“Keep him still!” One of the aliens said, their voice going even more high-pitched at the sound of the panic above them. Keith thrashed as a weight startled to settle over his side and was-
Was the alien sitting on him?!
Keith wiggled as best he could, sending dirt and rocks in every direction. He continued grabbing desperately at the tree in a vain attempt to hoist himself to his feet and throw the alien off of him.
“Stop-” the alien grunted. “ Moving!”
There was a glint of a knife in the dull light and then suddenly Keith was screaming, kicking out as he tugged at his hand trapped against the bark fruitlessly. Dark blood was seeping over his hand, dripping onto Keith’s face as he smashed his forehead so hard against the tree he saw stars.
It had all happened so fast, Keith thought, dazed. He hadn’t expected the alien to go to such drastic measures to keep him still, but the knife embedded through his palm and into the tree bark said otherwise. If Keith wasn’t in agony, he would have almost been impressed with the amount of power the alien had to do such an impressive stab.
Keith lifted his hand from the bark but another scream wrenched itself from his throat as his hand grinded against the knife blade. It split open his skin even further, blood running freely down his palm and into the cuffs of his suit. He gasped sharply, pressing his palm firmly to the tree if only to get the endless agony to stop.
“Shut him up, shut him up!” One of the aliens squealed. In the dim light and through the tears of pain in Keith’s eyes, he could make out them grabbing desperately at their face.
Was it just him or...were the panicked voices getting closer?
The alien on top of him sunk their hand into his hair and pinned Keith to the ground. The force of it dragged Keith’s shoulder down with it and he let out another loud wail as the knife pierced up, slicing open one of his knuckles. Warm blood flowed anew from the wound. The alien’s other hand came to muffle Keith’s next cry when he accidentally moved his hand in an attempt to lessen the pain.
His head was starting to spin. Being half-drugged and in pain was not sitting well with Keith. Especially since there were suddenly bright lights shining in his eyes and-
Wait, bright lights?
Keith squinted as the aliens panicked. He heard a scared voice scream his name.
“ Keith!!”
Keith shifted as the alien on top of him froze in place. Through the mouth covering his hand he murmured softly.
“...Pidge?”
In the next instance, the alien on top of him was suddenly crashed to the ground. Keith spotted a black sash before he fully realized what was happening. His heart swelled with relief as he mouthed his brother’s name.
Shiro smashed the alien’s face into the dirt, roughly pinning them to the ground with their hands bound behind their back with Shiro’s knee. A fire was in Keith’s older brother’s eyes - a protective snarl curling his lips. Keith could hardly believe his eyes as he shifted around the orchard to see Lance and Pidge working together to restrain the other alien.
Hunk, Allura, and Coran all hurried towards him. Keith could see the King standing behind them with a group of shocked-looking guards. Keith could barely focus on their faces and he shook his head to rid it of the dizziness.
“Keith-” Hunk gasped sharply when he saw the knife. “Oh God.”
“We came looking for you after an agreement with the King was reached,” Coran said, his face pale. “We couldn’t find you but we did find signs that someone had tried to kidnap you.”
“Great…” Keith grumbled, his words slurred and half-conscious. “I love parties.”
His sarcasm was not lost on his companions as Allura knelt to get a good look at the knife sticking through his palm. She winced.
“Coran, help me get the knife out,” she ordered. “Hunk, Keith is in no state to be walking. We’ll need you to carry him to the Castle and into a pod. As for you-” she shot a sharp glare to the aliens Shiro, Lance, and Pidge had apprehended. They wilted under the combined stares of the enraged Paladins of Voltron. “You have some explaining to do.”
Keith couldn’t help but let a smirk lift his lips. He knew that ‘explaining’ was just another way of punishing the aliens for trying to kill him. However, all of his smugness vanished the moment Coran’s fingers brushed against the knife in his palm. He cried out into the dirt, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Oh dear,” Coran murmured. “It’s...in there. I’m sorry, my boy, but this is going to hurt.”
“No problem,” Keith muttered into the dirt. He had no idea if it was him or the drugs still coursing through his system talking. “Love pain. Love it. Love parties. Parties are good, ’specially the ones where you’re kidnapped and almost murdered. Fun.”
He continued to babble into the dirt as his teammates exchanged worried looks. Coran took the knife with both hands and Keith cut himself off with a sharp gasp as it was scraped against the inside of his skin. He shut his eyes tightly.
“I’m going to count down from three,” Coran warned. “And then I’m going to pull the knife out. Is that okay, lad?”
Keith nodded, unable to trust himself to speak without losing his filter again. He swallowed, tensing himself up and preparing for the incoming pain.
He blacked out the moment Coran pulled out the knife.
Next thing Keith knew he was tumbling out of a pod several hours later, wounds healed and drugs successfully rinsed out of his system. He shifted as Shiro caught him gently, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders to stave away the chill from the pods.
The aliens were being held accountable for what they had tried to do, Shiro told him in a hushed whisper. They were going to be held to the highest punishment available on the planet and Keith could only nod along as he let his shoulders slump in Shiro’s arms.
He hoped Shiro would understand the next time they had to go to a diplomatic party and Keith asked to be excused.