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The blue light of Altean magic glows at her fingertips. Her hands are guided by instinct mostly and she ignores the rest of the world for just a moment while she works. She has never had the chance to try any of this before. Most of these abilities are so new. Each spell she casts feels like a victory.
She is pulled from her concentration by Lotor’s voice. “The thermo-hydroreactor is being a bit tricky and it could give us even more problems if the cryano-sulfide inhibitor continues to respond poorly in the presence of quintessence.” His yellow eyes are narrowed. Lotor isn’t angry with the offending piece of equipment. It is simply a puzzle whose answer remains just out of reach.
Allura ducks under the hull of the ship to see him. His hair has fallen in front of his face and she almost laughs at the sight. “I’m going to continue testing it, there are a few more things I want to try that might stabilize the whole unit.”
“You are brilliant, Allura,” Lotor says, beaming at her. She still finds herself unused to all of his compliments. They seem so genuine that each time she feels that another one of her reservations has fallen away. She doesn’t have too many of them left.
After getting to know for the past few weeks, she still hasn’t managed to find an end to his charms. He reminds her of home a bit. He treats her like the princess she was supposed to be if her planet and her people hadn’t been destroyed. There’s something bittersweet in that.
“I’m not sure about that, but thank you,” she says, trying to remain tactful despite her rosy blush.
His brows furrow slightly, as though he doesn’t understand. “Allura, without you none of this would be possible. Forgive me, but only a fool would fail to realize just how special you are.”
Allura knows she is woefully out of practice when it comes to playing the part of royalty. She managed well enough in front of the emissaries of freed planets, none of them having known a benevolent leader in lifetimes. She knows very well though, that spending time with the paladins, who have become her best friends, has undone a good deal of her finishing. For all that dignity and grace are in her blood, trained in her come to that, her regal bearing evaporates when Lotor speaks to her like this.
She blinks up at him, not sure what to say. Surely there was some lesson that taught her how to deal with compliments, why can’t she remember?
“You must forgive me,” stammers Allura. For what, she isn’t entirely sure. She is saved by the entrance of a sentry of some sort. His spell breaks and she can think again. A steadying breath keeps her from feeling so dizzy.
“Emperor Lotor, dinner is prepared for you and your guest if you wish to dine. The others have already eaten.”
Lotor’s eyes widen upon seeing the time on the nearest display. “I had no idea it was so late already. Thank you,” he says, dismissing the servant. “I’m afraid I must apologize again. Any chance at a midday meal completely escaped us. Would you care to change before dinner?”
It is a courtesy she might have expected at home, but now that that place and those people are so far behind her it catches her off guard. She doesn’t have anything to change into. He paladin armor might not be appropriate for a state dinner, but it is all she brought. If they were at court, if they still lived into the time she had been born into and they were the heirs of two great societies, she would have brought something or she would know what to say now in this awkward moment where all she has are the clothes on her back. But they aren’t at court. Time has endlessly marched forward and left her at a loss for how to proceed.
“I’m starving actually,” she says lightly, trying to play it off as a joke.
“Then we shall do our best to remedy that.”
He doesn’t offer her his arm as they leave and he guides her to where they will be dining. If he were interested in fully living out this make-pretend version of courtly manners, he would have and Allura would have been rude not to accept. She finds herself glad that he hasn’t. It’s one less thing to trip over, now that it seems her tongue has tied itself in knots around her ankles.
Of all the things that have surprised her about Lotor, the respect he shows her is perhaps the greatest of them all. It’s little gestures like this that do more to make her like him than anything. Being escorted to and fro on someone else’s arm always made her feel like an invalid. Perhaps the Galra simply don’t perform this custom, but when compiled with all the other evidence, Allura tends to believe he sees her as a fully capable person instead.
And there is something electrifying about being a princess and an equal.
They have gotten to know each other pretty well over the last few weeks. Or at least, she knows him better than she ever expected to. There is still a level of performance to their interactions that they haven’t managed to overcome. When they talk, it is about their work or their culture. Allura finds herself to be more willing than he is to offer up stories from her childhood. She doesn’t take his reticence to be coldness though. It’s hard to imagine his childhood being a very happy one. That governess had looked very strict.
They have managed to form a light comradery after spending so much time together. It was hard to overcome her initial misgivings, but he gave her time and enough space so that she didn’t feel pressured to trust him. The gradual change in their relationship has been so slow that she has hardly noticed that she might like spending time with Lotor.
For as nervous as Lotor makes her, spending time with him has become pleasurable as of late. He is intelligent, bookish even, something the Galra aren’t known for prizing. He is surprisingly well-read, but also deeply curious. He never acts as though he knows better than her because he always seems to have something he wants to know about her.
He sits across the table from her, their food already set for them. The distance between them seems a bit awkward considering the close quarters they were working in today. As if he has noticed, Lotor reaches out, drinking glass in hand and smiles at her.
“A toast,” he says. He is a bit theatrical, but Allura finds she doesn’t mind this about him either. “To the groundbreaking progress we’ve made today, the imminent completion of our work, and the peace it will bring to the universe.”
Allura lifts her glass and nods. It’s a fine toast, something he has said repeatedly since they’ve begun. Today though, his words have never felt truer. Every day they get closer to completing the ship and every day she allows herself to think about the future a little bit more. A future where they could ally with the Galra and free the planets still under their sway.
“I’m sorry we missed your friends earlier,” he says after they’ve tucked in a bit. Allura is ravenous after having hardly eaten all day. “The thought of stopping did not even occur to me.”
“I wonder if that was a side-effect of the spells I was using. Quintessence is known to cause a similar reaction in those exposed to it for extended periods of time.” It’s possible, she supposes. In the few times she has encountered the substance, she felt strangely heightened, as though she had become the best version of herself. It had an intoxicating ability to make one feel as though they could never tire, never fade, and always be that perfect self.
She continued after a moment. “I didn’t think of taking a break either. It’s hard to describe the feeling, but I hadn’t thought that much time had passed. I was too absorbed in what I was doing I suppose. It’s fascinating.”
“It is,” says Lotor, looking perhaps fondly at her. “And it wouldn’t be possible without you. You have an ingenuity that can only be dreamed of.”
Allura tries her very best not to blush at that. “I’m sure anyone born into the right circumstances could have managed it.” Her tongue manages to keep itself together this time.
Both of them have finished their meals and the plates have been cleared away in an almost magical fashion. It’s just the two of them now, with nothing between them and nothing to distract her from that strange and familiar look in his eyes.
“Do you really not know your own value? Sure, someone with the Mark of the Chosen and the knowledge of Altea your people could have received the wisdom of the ancestors, but only you could have used it to create this. Your intelligence has been just as much of an asset as your mark and I wouldn’t want to share this with anyone but you.”
Her breath catches in her throat. His words seem so sincere that she thinks her heart might break at the sound. She wonders what it would be like to throw her arms around him, the way she might with one of the paladins or Coran.
Then a small voice inside her, one that has almost never had the chance to speak up, asks if Lotor might be flirting with her. That small voice has been growing in volume and confidence recently, but she tends to dismiss it almost instantly. It never seems to be the moment to think of such a thing. There is always something much more important at hand.
Along with that, there has almost never been an opportunity for someone to flirt with her. She isn’t sure she could recognize someone expressing romantic interest in her, even if she had romantic interest in them! Before she had been put to sleep, before the loss of her people, marriage hadn’t been a concern. Her parents allowed her time to become her own person before considering what was best for the future of Altea. She had been grateful for that freedom before her childhood had been lost. Now though, she wishes she had some childhood experience to guide her.
Who could she turn to for aid? Coran could tell her about various courting rituals throughout the ages, but the thought of discussing Lotor with him makes her feel ill. Her mice lack personal experience of complex human emotions, so while she might feel comfortable trusting them with her secrets, they are not the best advisors. Shiro seems the wisest of the paladins but he is perhaps not the most accomplished in matters of the heart…
She feels slightly set adrift, but nervous and excited too. She tries to hold onto her caution even when other emotions jostle for more attention.
“Do you require some assistance finding your way to your quarters?” asks Lotor, rising from his seat. “I would be happy to help you find your way.”
Allura would much prefer his company to some masked guard. She still can’t feel entirely comfortable around them, after having spent so long fighting them. “That would be kind of you.”
“I’ll admit,” he says, as they leave the room together. “My motives might be a bit more selfish than kind. I’ll do anything to spend more time in your company.”
What is a rational person supposed to say to something like that?
“You are full of compliments,” she says, trying to sound as though she isn’t charmed.
“Because your merits are innumerable,” he counters.
They pause in front of a window that looks out onto the countless stars that surround the ship. Only the private areas of the ship have comforts like this. The rest is far more functional.
“I’ve always liked looking out at the stars,” Lotor says, suddenly. Allura looks at him uncertainly and nods. He so rarely offers something personal unprovoked. “Well, I never liked looking at them until I found myself in exile, those years I spent alone when my father had no use for me. I spent them exploring hundreds of worlds and at night, without fail, you could look up into the sky and see hundreds of stars. It made me feel connected I suppose. It gives you a sense that there is something more than this out there.”
Allura isn’t sure she’s ever heard him speak like this. He’s being oddly poetic. She isn’t sure what he means by ‘this’ either. It’s sort of a general state of materiality she supposes, the everyday worries that don’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of fate.
“Primitive creatures that live and thrive on light fear the dark. It is a source of cold and isolation. But no matter what planet you find yourself on, the stars are always shining upon you. There’s a certain amount of comfort in that when you don’t have a home.”
Feeling brave, Allura takes his hand. She doesn’t say anything at first. The physical contact alone is something intimate and strange for both of them and it takes a moment to get over the shock of it. She isn’t sure what she means by it either, as a comfort or as a way of meeting him halfway.
“We used to do that on Altea, look to the stars and search for constellations on clear nights. I remember it especially in the summer, when the air was warm and you could almost fall asleep on the grass, endlessly gazing. I think Coran had to carry me back inside the palace once when I was a little girl.” She gets caught up in the memory of it, some small detail of her old life that she hadn’t really remembered. She had liked stargazing back then.
“I suppose it’s sort of silly to be fond of stars when one has spent their life in space,” says Lotor.
Allura refuses to let him take back this singular moment of vulnerability. “No, it’s not.”
Perhaps it’s part of the way he was raised. The Galra abhor weakness. The fact that he has opened up to her at all after such a relatively short time is nothing short of a miracle.
There is a moment where Allura thinks that Lotor might lean down and kiss her. His chin dips down and the light from the stars outside catches on the ridge of his cheekbones. She thinks that if he did, she would let him. They are standing so close now, still holding hands. She can’t be sure if she’s still breathing.
“Thank you,” he says and Allura looks away. She starts to breathe. Once again the spell between them has been broken, though she isn’t sure what was the cause this time.
They stop holding hands after that and walk to her room in silence. Her heartbeat is still throbbing in her ears. She finds it hard to school her face into something neutral. She isn’t sure if she is excited at the possibility of something romantic between them or if she is disappointed by his decision not to act on it.
“Goodnight, Allura,” he says when they reach their destination. He takes her hand and gives it a brief peck of a kiss before turning to leave.
Once the door is closed behind her, she lets out a breath. For all her diplomatic failings, she managed to comport herself rather well, all things considered.
Her heart hurts and her head isn’t sure how to keep up with everything she’s feeling. How could she feel all this about Lotor of all people? Son of Zarkon, Emperor Absolute of the Galra, spawn of everything that has ruined her life and the lives of all Alteans. She has had to continually remind herself of that over the last few weeks, even as she has grown to like him. It’s been so hard to let herself trust him.
But what if she could? He has fulfilled every promise he has made thus far and seems a truly different man from his father. Allura thinks she does trust him and has put her trust in him time and time again without disappointment. He has meant everything he has said and they want the same thing.
It’s more than she could have hoped for. She had anticipated a cold alliance, constant suspicion, and slow movements toward peace. What she found instead was cordiality, a fierce desire for peace, and friendship.
Allura has always been hopeful. As the leader of a small resistance facing a massive empire, it is important to remain so even in the face of terrible odds. She has always been careful to never get too far ahead of herself. You have to imagine the greater plan but always fight one battle to the next. She certainly never imagined a future where there might be an end to fighting or at least, she never let herself imagine a place for herself in that future.
With their combined efforts, the galaxy might finally be at peace and she will have to decide what her role in this new universe will be. Allura wonders what her parents would have her do if they were able to see this. Will she need to marry Lotor as a symbol of alliance? Would she need to marry him anyway, as one of the few members of royalty left in the galaxy? Did any of that matter now that she was the princess of a dead civilization?
Again, she hated the thought of asking Coran for advice on any of this, though he would likely have an answer. He would likely have very strong opinions on the whole arrangement, though she couldn’t predict which side those opinions might fall on.
Allura prepared herself for bed and wondered for the first time in ages what the paladins are doing. Her thoughts are everywhere and she wonders if they might be a ready distraction. There seems to be little chance of her sleeping well tonight.
She has never felt something like this for anyone before. She loves the paladins and Coran, her mice and the Castle of Lions. She loved Altea and her parents. Each of those was a different kind of love, though. Not more or less important, simply different in an intangible sort of way. She thinks she might love Lotor in a way that is almost entirely unfamiliar to her.
Her restless mind imagines a future where she might be paired off with him and she isn’t sure how she feels about it just yet. She cannot truly say that she has fully developed romantic feelings for him just yet, but the image is not as unpleasant as she might have expected even days ago. In fact, it seems as though that ending might wrap things up nicely for everyone, putting an end to a conflict that has gone on for millennia with two people agreeing to form a union. It seems like an end to one of the stories she’d been told as a little girl. Maybe it is the closest anyone in reality will get to a happy ending.
Like so many things lately, it seems perfect. Perfect, but not overly so. People have fought and died for this happy ending. So many people have suffered. The universe deserves this ending after all it has been put through.
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Allura wants to scream.
She can’t though. That isn’t who she is. Princesses do not get to scream and cry and tear their hair out when they’ve been betrayed.
That’s what he did to her. He got close to her, made her trust him, and perhaps he never intended to make her love him but he did and that’s what matters.
He seemed so sincere even in his final moments. When he pleaded with her to stop and she could finally see through him.
There’s a chance that it wasn’t all a lie, that some part of him believed in what he was saying. That is how the best lies are made, of course. It’s hard to choose which to believe. If he had been lying to her the entire time about wanting peace and an alliance, while instead using her and Voltron to make his grab for power, she had been a fool. She had fallen for his elaborate scheme and how could she trust herself after that?
If not, if what he had said was true and he believed it, what then?
If he had grown to care for her? If he had deluded himself into believing that they could have a future together? If he could ever have believed she would forgive him for what he had done?
Then they had both been fools.
Allura isn’t sure if the other paladins have noticed that something is bothering her. Of course, they know some of what happened. They saw her throw Lotor to the ground when she learned what he had done. They saw her attack him when he tried to reconcile once more. They can never truly know the depth of her hatred for him; why she hates him the way she does now and why even Zarkon seems less evil to her now.
They will never know that he kissed her when their work was done. They will never know how her eyes closed and her lips smiled against his. They will never know how her heart stopped for a moment when she understood that this was what it felt like to be kissed by someone she might love.
That moment felt like taking a step back. In that moment, she didn’t have to be a leader, she wasn’t concerned for the fate of the universe, and she didn’t spare a thought for the success of their project. It was like sitting in the grass on Altea looking up at the stars. She felt that there was a world and a life outside of the chaos she had lived in for so long. He had opened her eyes to something so much more than this.
She had hardly a moment to pull herself together before everything fell apart.
And then, when they had entered the quintessence field for the last time she had seen him truly unhinged. Some of her hatred became colored with pity.
She had felt it too. The way that quintessence changes you, enhances you. Perhaps it should have been no surprise that it had affected him so drastically. His parents went mad and destroyed the universe thanks in no small part to the stuff. Even the paladins had felt charged by it, becoming overzealous in their efforts to take him down. If they hadn’t gotten out of there soon enough, if she hadn’t been able to stop Lotor, they might have all gone insane with him.
But quintessence doesn’t change who a person is, it amplifies their traits. She hadn’t felt herself becoming bloodthirsty like the others. Maybe it had been her training or her blood, or perhaps Lotor had been right when he had told her that she was more special than she knew.
Allura didn’t know if she was special or not. That didn’t seem to matter anymore. She was still trying to take stock of everything she knew now and all of her new abilities.
She felt hollowed out from everything that had happened, like someone had scraped out all of the emotions she had been keeping inside of her. That emptiness might be aiding her attempts to connect with these new powers inside of herself. She has been continuing to practice in the absence of anything else to do. The work clears her head of everything but magic and focus. She wants so desperately to feel nothing for a while.
They are headed to Earth now and everyone is excited. Everyone but her. She can’t seem to muster up any enthusiasm for it even when she sees how round Lance and Hunk’s eyes get when they talk about things they want to do when they get back. She likes to think she has done a good job of hiding her emotions or lack thereof. On the rare occasion that someone asks how she is, she says that Shiro’s transference has left her tired. It’s not the truth, but no one needs to know that.
Things will get better. Allura knows they will. They have to. She has suffered greater losses than this.
She goes about her day as normally as possible, with a smile on her face that she hopes is less tired than she feels. It seems terribly unfair that all she can do is smile and keep a stiff upper lip in the face of every new bit of suffering. She isn’t allowed to despair. She isn’t sure if she knows how.
It’s hard, trying to be a princess her parents would be proud of. Sometimes, she isn’t sure who she is trying to impress anymore. Keith or Shiro or Lance would be allowed to sulk in their rooms for a few days. She’s tried sparring as a way to get out some aggression, to feel better at all, but it hasn’t had the desired effect. It will get easier eventually, she tells herself. She knows from experience.
For now, she has her friends by her side and a new world to explore. Pretending she is happy until she actually is has worked for her in the past. There seems to be no reason her resilience won’t come to her aid once again.
She has to learn to guard her heart more carefully in the future. Someone had told her once that her capability for compassion was her greatest virtue. Perhaps it had been her parents or Coran, she could hardly remember now. For all that kindness and empathy had helped her become a leader, it had also broken her heart more times than she could count. She didn’t want to feel her heart calcifying in her chest with each new anguish. There had to be some balance between the two she is still yet to learn.
Earth will be good for her. The chance to explore and be curious despite herself will help her begin to trust again. Just as it is in her nature to be kind, it is also in her nature to heal. She wants to be herself again and be the Allura that she knows everyone needs her to be. Distraction may only be temporary, but that kind of practice makes perfection easier.
She will not let Lotor’s betrayal break her for long. It will take time, but she is strong enough to find her way back to herself once again. She has to. She has a universe to save.