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The fight to save Naxzela doesn't go according to plan.
Like, at all.
Not that anyone’s really expecting it to. This is a war over the universe, after all.
But as the team regroups in the castle, heads swimming with the latest revelation (- which, for the record, Lance is so not on board with. I mean, Lotor? A good guy? Really?), Lance is pretty sure he’s had his fair share of plot twists for the night.
Apparently, he’s wrong.
He lingers with everyone (minus Allura, who's missing, which strikes him as odd. She’d never normally miss a debrief; not that they’re mandatory or tradition or anything. But still. They’re important to her. Maybe all that planet saving and quintessence-harnessing tired her out? He should check on her, make sure she’s okay.) for a while, but they’re all so overwhelmed with questions and theories that circle around each other messily enough to drive Lance mad, so after what he hopes is an acceptable amount of time, he slips away unannounced, grabs himself and Allura a cup of space “tea” and goes looking for her.
It doesn’t take him very long to find her.
She’s pacing in his bedroom doorway, expression unreadable. Her hair is completely out of its usual bun, and she’s absentmindedly playing with it as she thinks. The sight of her still in her paladin armour, but looking less perfectly put together than he’s used to seeing her, is. Well. It’s different. Good different. He kind of feels like he’s seeing a side of her the paladins don’t normally have the privilege of witnessing. Which is very nice.
She hasn’t noticed him yet, so for a few seconds he waits, watches and wonders.
What could she be wanting to talk to him about?
“Everything alright, Princess?”
Her head turns at the sound of his voice, hands falling away from her hair abruptly, and her response is a weirdly tight, “Lance! Yes, of course; everything’s fine!”
Which. Well, he’s not an idiot. Clearly there’s something going on.
But how to get it out of her?
He remembers the mugs in his hands, and changes tactics. “I uh, I grabbed you some tea. I noticed you disappeared like, the second we got back to the castle, and thought maybe you might have been tired after the whole quintessence thing. But, uh.. I guess not? Anyway, uh-” he extends an arm toward her, definitely sloshing the space tea around in its cup and spilling some onto the smooth, definitely slippery floor. She approaches, with a smile that’s already more relaxed than it had been a minute ago, and as she takes the cup from him her fingers brush against his, which he definitely doesn’t notice or anything.
(He definitely does.)
“Thank you, Lance. Your timing is perfect, as usual.” There’s something in her expression that he can’t (or won’t dare to) identify. Something that, if he’s being honest, looks like.. fondness.
Except. What? No.
She would never.
He could never-
He almost literally shakes his head in attempt to clear away his thoughts. Thoughts like that are dangerous. They’re the kind that have him wanting things he can’t have; hoping in vain for something (someone) that can never be his.
But she’s still smiling at him, and her expression’s still- not fond, but something; appreciative, maybe, so he’ll gladly take it.
Silence settles over them, not uncomfortable but not unnoticeable either. He’s wondering again, then, why she’d come to his room in the first place. Was she wanting to find him there? Was she not wanting to?
Lance is Confused™. And feeling the growing awkwardness as their quiet stretches on. Somebody say something please somebody-
“So-”
“Um-”
They start and stop in unison. She huffs out a laugh perfectly in time with his.
“Uh, do you maybe wanna hang out in the kitchen?” he offers. If she does want to talk, maybe she’ll feel more comfortable when they’re not standing in the middle of a hallway. He can hope, anyway. He’s never seen this side of Allura. It’s troublesome to navigate.
Ugh, what was that sentence? Now he’s talking like her, too! Damn infatuation.
“That might be better, yes”, she agrees, bringing him back out of his head. So they go to the kitchen.
It doesn’t change much. He feels more comfortable, sitting at a table with his hands wrapped around the warm mug that now sits in front of him. But it’s still quiet.
“So I suppose you’re wondering why I was outside of your room.”
Oh, thank God. This is the Allura I know and lo-
Care a lot about.
“Uh, yeah. Kinda.”
“Well, I wanted to speak with you, but I wasn’t sure where you were. I was hoping you would be in your room, rather than with the other paladins, because.. Well, I don’t think this is the kind of conversation they all need to hear.”
Uhhhh.
Huh?
“I still haven’t quite managed to put into words what I want to say, either. And what would that do for my reputation?” she jokes. At least, he thinks she’s joking. He’s only half aware of what she’s saying.
Because. What? What the quiznak does “I don’t think this is the kind of conversation they all need to hear” mean?
“I wanted to thank you again, Lance.”
Oh.
For what, exactly?
“Oh. For.. what, exactly?”
“Well your encouragement earlier, of course!”
Oh.
“Oh.”
Wow.
“I mean, it was nothing, really”, he says. And shockingly, he means it.
(Which says a lot given the kind of person he used to be. Back when this whole thing started, he was still that guy that craved praise and validation, and based his entire view of himself on what others thought of him. The Old Lance™ was a glutton for glory, and took every bit of praise he could get to build up his rapidly crumbling self esteem.
But that’s a little too heavy for right now. We’ll get back to that later.)
“It wasn’t nothing!” Allura’s protesting. “It meant a lot to me.”
Oh.
“When I was young, I was.. restricted, shall we say, due to my position as the daughter of royalty. I was sheltered, more than I would have liked. I understood why, of course, but.. Anyway. I was never the “princess” type- diplomatic dinners and fancy dresses never interested me. How ironic, right? I much preferred the kinds of antics the young boys I knew would get up to, and they had no qualms about allowing me to join in on their sports and their wrestling and such. But, given who I was, that was highly frowned upon. I was supposed to be ladylike, to uphold the values of a future queen. It only took a few grazed knees and dirt-covered gowns for those around me to start keeping a very close watch on my activities.
My father, though; he understood. He would train me in secret, teaching me self defense and combat techniques, conducting races with me, which he often let me win, though he played off the act rather well. He even gave me clothes to wear specifically for my training, so that when I was back in my fancy dresses no one would ever know what I’d been up to.” She giggles, and it shoots through Lance’s chest. “It was our little secret. When things got.. messy, with Zarkon, it became more and more of a necessity for ordinary people to be able to defend themselves. With one of our most powerful leaders now against us, everyone had to be ready for the war. I was ever more grateful for all our training, then, even though I had the privilege of having vastly more protection than anyone else. Not that it really mattered; by then my father was all but lost to me anyway.”
“Sounds like you and your father were really close. It must have.. It must have hurt to lose him.”
“Oh, it did. It still does, often. But that’s the thing. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like he’s gone. It feels like he's right here, doing this all with me. When I’m piloting Blue, knowing I’m making a difference in the world; fighting the fight he died for, when I’m training and I can hear his voice guiding me..”
She looks up at him then, and there’s something in her eyes yet again that he can’t name. He could get lost in them, cliche as it sounds. So blue, so bright, so beautiful. Like stars and seas and galaxies.
“But Lance, I haven’t felt as close to my father as I did today in such a long time. He always inspired me and encouraged me to believe in myself; to believe in the gifts I had and the future I was destined for. When you reminded me today of my strengths, and believed I could do something I’d never imagined myself capable of; when you said that this was my destiny, and I was the heart of Voltron..”
His heart could burst at any moment.
“Lance, that meant more to me than you could ever know.”
And burst it does, in fire suffusing his cheeks. Um. Wow.
“I, uh.. I don’t know what to say. That’s. Wow.”
“I can imagine it’s a lot to take in”, she says with laugh. “But really. Thank you.”
“Anytime, Princess”, is the first coherent thought in his head and the first thing to leave his mouth. She laughs again, rolling her eyes affectionately. She stands, bids him goodnight and then turns away, but something seems to stop her before she begins to walk away. She turns back.
“You know, Lance, when we first met, I didn’t think particularly highly of you.”
“No kidding”, he interrupts with a snort. She smiles.
“But now, I know that underneath all the false bravado and flirting, there were some wonderful qualities waiting to be discovered. I’m glad I know you better now. You’re..”
A soft smiles settles on her face as she hesitates, then leans over to lightly kiss his cheek. “You’re quite something, Lance McClain.”
She doesn’t look back as she leaves the room, which, in all honesty he’s kinda grateful for. Because man, if he’d thought his face was burning before..
He'd be an absolute sight to see if anyone walked in right now; his face must be red enough to match his bayard, and there's not a doubt in his mind that his expression is positively lovestruck.
You’re quite something too, Allura.