Disclaimer: Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned in the Voltron franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the Voltron franchise (e.g. Voltron Lions, Allura).

To most, Shiro is the Champion of the Gladiator Rings, winner of a hundred matches and favourite of the people.

To Prince Lothor, bastard son of the King, one of Galra's great warriors and Captain of the Fleet of Doom, Shiro is his friend.

What Shiro does not remember, Lothor does: he sees the Champion's skills for the first time since he's heard of his cunning and prowess in the ring, taking on monster after monster each time they throw him into the ring. The first time they met, was when Lothor orders the guards to prepare Shiro to fight him. It's a private setting of course because this Lothor is not too arrogant to let his pride wither in the ring if Shiro manages to defeat him. He is a captain, a warrior and a prince; there's no way he'll risk that much for some slave.

None have ever (dared try to) defeat him; none were ever like Shiro, who kept him on guard for a long duration of their first fight. In the end they've spent many times doing battle as training, to keep Shiro on his toes and to keep Lothor entertained. Each time, neither has ever gotten the upper hand over the other. Each time, the battle ends in a draw.

Shiro breaks the constant echos of their pained grunts and tired pants first. "Why even bother coming after some small fry like me?"

Lothor smirks. "If you were small fry, you'd be dead by now."

There's been blood shed but no more than superficial wound. There's been jabs thrown but only remarks on how poor their form seemed that day. Lothor sometimes goes all out because of the frustrations of military and royalty; Shiro shoulders it because he knows he can't do anything else but survive. They continue this confusing sense of camaraderie when Lothor says:

"I hate my father."

Their swords were set aside. They spoke of the horrors of the Empire, the iron rule and blood thirsty regime. The twisted machinations of metal and magic by Haggar, the dead and destruction left in Zarkon's wake. His mother, not a Galran, taken away from him. Lothor wants it changed. To end. He would make a rule that's fair and prosperous once he has the throne. If he ever gets the throne.

"You need a rebellion then." Shiro explains. "I'm sick of all this pain too."

And they plan. They gather numbers. Shiro amongst the prisoners and slaves, Lothor amongst the soldiers and nobles. They gain a following. Each day when they do battle now, they spoke of strategy and opportunity. They shared stories, sometimes smiles and laughter. It felt good to have a friend when you were among enemies. And they were almost there, almost ready!

Haggar makes Shiro into her latest pet project. Lothor is forced to watch alongside his father, as they break Shiro. His arm is taken first, replaced by wires and gears, quintessence and crystals. They cut into flesh, delve deep into bone and nerve. It had to be as good as his original arm somehow, King Zarkon remarked.

It was a warning. And Lothor had no choice but to concede, lest they torture Shiro in some other form and way. Their meetings stop. He hasn't heard of the Champion in the months he's away with his fleet.

Then the crew began whispering of the escaped human, hair white from stress and a metal arm that glowed purple. Lothor couldn't help the relief that surged together with envy at the news.

More news came, different than the other insurgents of the Empire. The last of the Alteans are alive and they have with them the Voltron and their Paladins. Another bug to be squashed, Lothor thinks sadly.

And he sees for the first time, from the helm of his ship, the newest Paladin of the Black Lion. White hair, a lateral scar and a metal arm that glowed purple. He hears himself order his second in command, quietly and quickly lower the solar shields.

Perhaps there is still hope after all.