One year ago, I started watching Voltron and very quickly fell in love with this show. Naturally, I choose now to start a second fic to work on alongside another.
My plan is to alternate weekends for the chapters, so I don't burn myself out on either fic.

Marks of the Soul

Chapter 1

Lance had been excited to receive his Soulmark from the moment he first understood what it meant. He'd grown up with the whirlwind of excitement that followed any member of his family gaining theirs and couldn't wait for the day he'd be able to proudly show it off to his family. (But only his family. Soulmarks were very private and not meant to be shared with everyone.)

He tried to be patient.

His sister's Mark appeared when she was eleven and both of his brothers gained theirs at twelve, so it only made sense that he would be the same.

Lance's tenth birthday arrived with a stinging pain spreading across his upper right thigh. He threw back his blankets in excitement and then tugged down his sleep pants for a better look at the source of the pain, though he already had a good idea as to what it was.

"Oh," he breathed, reverently brushing a finger against the thin, raised pink lines developing on his skin. It already formed what looked like an elaborate V, though he had a feeling it was far from finished.

He had his Mark.

The Mark that represented his soulmate – his perfect match.

Lance beamed and had enough mind to tug his pants back on before he leaped out of bed and ran to find his mom.

"Mama!"

Mama McClain jumped in surprise as her youngest came barreling into the kitchen straight at her. "Lance, what-?"

"My Mark! It's here! Look, look!" Lance could barely stand still as he lowered his waistband, revealing the fresh lines to her. Silver was beginning to swirl inside of the V, almost like the vines of a plant. As they watched, a bloom of blue faded in at the end of one of the silver strands.

He'd never seen one with three colors before.

"What does it mean?" he whispered, glancing up at his mama, who had tears in her eyes as she bowed down and kissed the top of his head.

"You'll understand it when you're meant to, but not a moment before," she reminded him. "But I think it means you'll have a strong bond. One that goes beyond time itself."

Despite her reassuring words, she couldn't help but worry. Soulmarks with three colors weren't unheard of, but they were extremely rare. According to records, it usually meant there was a great trial ahead for one or both of them.

Mama McClain pulled back and smiled at him, determined not to let such thoughts ruin his special day. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

Keith personally didn't see the appeal. He'd spent most of his life ignoring the golden line encircling each of his wrists, like shackles keeping him bound to some mysterious and unwanted fate. So he kept them covered, more because he found them unbearable to look at than because he didn't want anyone else to see.

Unfortunately, it was all anyone ever wanted to talk about at the Garrison. Couples happily displayed theirs in-between classes or whenever it wasn't mandatory that they be in uniform.

Keith ground his teeth and did his best to ignore it, pouring all of his focus into accomplishing his dream and following in his mentor's footsteps.

Meeting Takashi Shirogane was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. Shiro, as he was best known, had been the first person to draw him out of his shell since his father's death. Others had tried, but they lacked the sincerity of wanting to help him.

But not Shiro.

Shiro made him want to try again. He inspired him to do his best.

Better than that, Shiro didn't want to spend all day talking about those damned Marks. He'd never broached the subject, not even once.

Keith caught glimpses of it from time to time. Whenever they were relaxing in the comfort of their shared room, Shiro liked to push up the sleeves of his shirt. It was those times that Keith could spot a splash of green on his right forearm, just peeking out from under the fabric.

He could live with that.

And in a way, he was a little flattered that Shiro – the best pilot to have ever graced the Galaxy Garrison – trusted him well enough to show that much of his Mark to him. Him, the "troubled youth" who was constantly in trouble with his superior officers for his smart mouth and quick temper, but too good at his studies for them to justify kicking him out of the program.

Keith picked at the band of his gloves as he sat opposite of Shiro.

"Everything alright, Keith?" asked his only friend.

Keith hesitated. There was that impulse to pull off his gloves and show Shiro he trusted him just as much. He almost went for it, but then removed his hand and reached for a textbook instead.

"Just deciding what to work on first," he lied.

Shiro didn't question it.

Hunk cautiously opened the door to his room, peering inside to see if his roommate had deviated from his routine of spending an hour in the canteen flirting with any girl who looked his way. The room was blissfully empty and Hunk gratefully shed his uniform jacket as he stepped inside and out of the way of the door so it could shut behind him.

If he hurried, he could be changed into something comfortable and halfway through his engineering homework before his roommate barged in and demanded they go do something fun.

Hunk couldn't help but smile as he removed his undershirt as well. Lance was a bit of a goof, but he didn't think he could ask for a better roommate.

There was a beeping sound and click as the lock in the door released and Lance stepped inside, looking dejected. "Hey, budd-"

They both froze in place. Lance's eyes went wide as he took in the heavy yellow-gold lines decorating the entirety of his friend's back. Hunk trembled, knowing what was coming next. No one ever reacted well to seeing such a large Soulmark. It wasn't normal.

"Holy crow," Lance whispered. He was the first to unfreeze as he walked into the room. "Hunk? Buddy? You okay?"

Tears stung the corners of his eyes. Hunk tried to brush them off, forcing himself to smile as he turned to face Lance. "H-hey. You're back early," he said, his voice breaking at the end. He wasn't really aware that he was having an anxiety attack until Lance directed him to sit on the bed, keeping his voice low and steady. He stayed within Hunk's sight and didn't touch his friend.

"Hey, you're okay. Just look at me. Just look at Lancey Lance. You're fine, buddy. Just breathe. Take your time."

Hunk sobbed, doing his best to follow his friend's directions. It took a few minutes of unsteady breathing before his tears began to subside and he was able to lift his head and look at Lance.

"Back with me?" Lance asked, his voice warm with kindness. "Sorry I barged in like that. I can knock from now on, if you want."

Hunk lowered his eyes once again and pretended to inspect a tiny spot on his pants. Once more he felt tears begin to form and he cursed himself for being so weak. "You don't have to. You already saw..."

"Oh, yeah," Lance said, his voice faltering. "I mean, I didn't get a good look at it, if that helps? I was a little more worried about you. If it'll help, I'll let you see mine too."

Hunk's brow furrowed in confusion. "See yours?" he repeated. He let out a yelp of surprise when Lance began unbuckling his pants and he quickly reached out to stop him. "Wait!"

"I thought you wanted to see it," Lance said, sounding defensive.

Actually, he was a little curious, but it was hardly the time for that! Or maybe it was? Hunk wasn't sure of anything in that moment.

"You don't think it's weird?" he blurted out instead. "My Mark. It's huge. No one else has ever..."

Lance's frustrated gaze softened as he took his hands away from his belt. "Okay, so it's unique. I'm not going to freak out over something like that when mine has three colors."

Hunk looked up in amazement. He'd heard of Marks having two colors before, but never three. Maybe Lance was right. They were both unique, but that didn't have to be a bad thing. After all, Lance willingly offered to show off his, and they'd only known each other for a few months. Lance wouldn't do that if he thought it was something to be ashamed of.

"Unique," he quietly whispered, put at ease by the word.

Shiro didn't cry at first. He held himself together through waking up in Keith's childhood home, relaunching into space in a giant blue cat, and running around to find other giant colorful cats before fighting an approaching warship in the form of a giant robot made up of all of those cats. He had a team of cadets and the princess of a lost kingdom looking to him for guidance and he couldn't afford to break down in front of them.

But alone in the room given to him by Princess Allura, everything came rushing up to consume him. All of his guilt, his anxiety, his utter terror – he gave into it and for the first time in a very long time, he sat down and cried.

He cried for his missing crew. For dragging four teenagers into the middle of a ten-thousand year old war. For nearly a year of lost time. For his right arm.

For his Soulmark.

He stared at the prosthetic arm, his heart heavy. Where green numbers once wrapped around his forearm, there was only metal. Blank, empty metal.

His vision blurred the longer he stared, until a fresh wave of tears spilled over to flow down his cheeks. He knew he should look away. The sight of it would only make him feel worse.

A knock at the door had Shiro frantically wiping his eyes, trying his best to look presentable for whoever was paying him a visit. His body felt like it was made of stone as he stood and walked to the door.

He wasn't terribly surprised to find Keith on the other side. The younger man was staring a his feet, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Is something wrong?" Shiro asked, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his feelings. Keith didn't need that kind of burden, especially when he was clearly seeking Shiro out for help with his own problems.

"No. I just... We didn't have time to talk before..." Keith vaguely waved his hand around as he finally looked up. There was an extended pause as he got a good look at Shiro's face. "Are you alright?"

Shiro fought to keep his gaze steady, but couldn't help the slightest wince as Keith's eyes fell to his prosthetic limb. "I will be fine. It's a lot to take in in one day."

"Well, yeah, I just meant..." Keith made a soft, frustrated sound as he began picking at the band of his right glove. "Marks are just a physical representation. Even if they're gone, the bond doesn't go with it."

It was the first time Shiro had ever heard Keith bring up the topic. That alone startled him more than the fact his friend had taken the time to look up such a thing. And for the first time, he found himself struggling to find the right words.

In the end, he reached out with his left hand and rested it on Keith's shoulder. "Thank you, Keith."

Matt had always joked that her unusual Mark meant that her soulmate was an alien, and she had to admit, it was kind of fun to imagine.

What kind of person was her match? And if they were, by chance, an alien, what would they look like? Were there aliens who looked like humans or were vaguely human-like? Or were they simply human, like her, and dreamed of the possibilities beyond their galaxy?

When Matt and her father went missing, she didn't think about that as much. Or at all. Every ounce of her focus went towards finding out the truth of what really happened on the Kerberos mission, no matter what the consequences were.

And there were consequences.

Getting caught and then banned from the Galaxy Garrison.

Hiding her identity to sneak into the Garrison as a male student.

Giving up her dream of being a pilot.

Distancing herself from her peers.

Not being able to contact her mom, for fear of being discovered.

All of that, to find out she had been right all along and the Garrison was covering up the truth! Everything fell into place for her the night Shiro crash landed back on Earth, sparking an unexpected escape through the desert on a complete stranger's hoverbike, which then led to them finding an alien spacecraft hidden underground.

Pidge hadn't even had time to stop and admire the beauty of space before she was flung headfirst into a ten-thousand year old war and told she would pilot her own robot lion.

Space was nothing like she'd imagined.

It was even better.

The sheer exhilaration of flying the massive mechanical cat, even through very real and terrifying danger, was light-years beyond her wildest dreams. It made her feel as though she could do the impossible – like find her missing family in the vast reaches of the universe.

But in the quiet of her new room, with her unusual Soulmark glowing a faint purple in the darkness, all of that faded away. She lay in bed, tracing the symbol on her chest, and felt like crying.

"Maybe Matt was right," she whispered to herself. "Maybe my soulmate really is an alien."

Suddenly, the old joke was a very real possibility and Pidge wasn't sure how to handle that new complication in her life.

She rolled over, tugging the covers around her tightly to cover the glow, and tried to get some sleep.