MAAHES

Author's note: I am much too busy to be writing Voltron fanfiction, but here we are. This was inspired by a tumblr post that I can't find now, but it called into question just how much we knew about the lions and about Voltron. If anyone can find it I would be more than happy to put a link. Despite how busy I am, this was pretty fun to write and I hope you all enjoy.

He hadn't understood at first. He hadn't thought too much about how a mechanical lion could choose its paladin. He had thought that Blue calling to him had been a fluke, that maybe, the lions weren't so powerful after all, that they were just weapons. He thought that perhaps Allura was still a bit rattled by her time sleeping. Ten thousand years was enough to turn anyone into a dreamer. He knows now that, if anything, she was underestimating the power of the lions. Sometimes, though, he'll think back to that day and the look in her eyes when Allura said that the lions were sent away because they were too powerful, and he thinks that she knows. Because the lions are not just machines, they are so much more than metal. The lions are gods, and the whole universe will worship at their feet.

Red is the laughing, careless kind, of god, like a child overgrown and with terrible power at its hands. She had flitted from one interest to another, one moment she was interested in him, then she forgot he existed. And when when she noticed he was in danger, she flung herself to him like a child told that their favorite toy needed to be put away now. She grabbed him, tight and safe and snarled: Mine! You can't have him. To the darkness of space and for a moment, he was the most important thing, the most beloved being in the universe. Then, when the threat was gone, he was just her paladin again, her priest. She is a war god, and her tribute is paid in fire and blood, battle and fury. Keith is glad to worship her, to see the Galra fall before him like the fragile mortals that they are. Like he is. Sometimes it is almost easy to forget that he is only kept safe of the field by her indulgence, but other times it is the only thing he is aware of.

The Green is easy to figure out as well. She is one of those gods created by the scholars, she is worshiped in the acquisition of knowledge, in the endless nights Pidge spends with her glasses reflecting the light of her computer screens. She is the sly, cunning trickster sort of god. Pidge is a devoted follower, for she knows the rewards that her god offers. Knowledge of the Galra, their plans, their prisoners.

If he had to, he would suppose that Yellow was the rare, kind god. Hunk is a strong man, and it is good, for the sacrifice his god demands is so much more expensive than the others. She is not satisfied by the screams of her enemies, or by the endless numbers that run across the screen. She demands that her servant work himself to the bone. Feed the hungry, heal the sick, comfort the bereft. Sometimes, he thinks that Hunk's god is the most demanding of all.

Blue is an ocean god, there is no doubt about that, ever changing, unreadable, dangerous, but at the same time, she connects people. She is not to be crossed, but she will let you come so far before she swallows you whole. She likes the kind ones, almost like Yellow, but her tribute isn't paid in service to others. She connects the team, ties them together, pulls them closer like an undertow.

Black is an absent god. Too absorbed in herself to notice the adoration and service laid about her feet. She demands strength, she drinks it like wine and then holds out her cup for more. She doesn't care for the sacrifices her sisters prefer, physical things, temporary things, for battles end, blood dries, and knowledge is forgotten. She is given tribute only from her paladin. In the fire of his fury, in the grit of his teeth against the pain. Shiro had been her favorite servant, with his unshakable determination forged in the Galra pits. He was strong, and Keith is not.

Black is displeased with him, he knows it. He feels it while he shudders as the great burden of her attention turns to him in her cockpit. She regards him for a second, and it is an eternity. She doesn't even give him her full gaze, if anything, it is more like a glance. She looks at him, looks at his pain, his hatred for the Galra, and she holds out her cup.

Keith isn't afraid that the Glara will win this war. Because Zarkon is the worst kind of heratic, the kind that believes he could conquer the gods, and there is nothing that makes them more furious. Keith knows that the Lions will win, that they will hunt Zarkon down and they will render his empire to ashes.

He is more afraid of what happens after, a priest cannot leave the service of their god. They serve for life, and when they die, they are replaced, for why should a god notice the devotion of a tiny mortal lifetime when they have eternity? He knows that Black will drain him as she did Shiro, as she did Zarkon, but what choice does he have?

When Keith was young, he had heard stories of gods. Ancient, half-forgotten deities that no one believed in any more. Zeus, Posiden, Ra, so many, scattered about like toys when children grew up.

He had wondered how people could bear to worship at the feet of such careless callus beings. But that was before space, before Zarkon, before the Lions. He understands now. That was the power of gods, they take and they take, until all you have is them. He kneels at the altar and he lays upon it his offerings and the Lions take them as their due.