Work Text:
Allura was remnant, a lonely piece of legacy belonging to a people she had never known and a last ditch effort by her parents (may the ancients allow their souls to rest) to preserve their heritage. She felt the weight of it sometimes, when her uncle looked through her over of cup long cold tea to what had been and what could never again be. She was heir to dust and the ashes of a long gone civilization. Nothing.
And when the weight of a lost world dragging at her ankles became too heavy, too much of an expectation, she'd drive out to the desert and let the mirages trick her into seeing an oasis where her father playfully called her princess and her mother painted lines under her eyes.
Then her car would break down in the middle of the desert and she'd curse at the ancients, kicking a tire for good measure. She'd pop the hood and stare at machinery she knew nothing about while long silver hair came free from her bun only to plaster itself to her sweaty face.
And an old truck would squeal to a stop next to her, looking even less reliable than her own vehicle, and a young man with only one arm and a monster weighing down his shoulders would ask if she needed a ride back to town. She'd let the hood fall back into place none too gently and gratefully slide into the middle seat next to a boy with black hair and fire under his skin while the man hopped in next to her.
And in the next few months she'd find herself tracing constellations with a man whose smile never quite reached his eyes and a boy who burned like a dying star. And perhaps she'd be around long enough to see Shiro's shoulders sag a little less and a smile soften his eyes. And maybe she'd see Keith's fire burn a little lower, perhaps afraid of burning someone. And maybe she'd feel the dead loosen their grip a little, and her feet wouldn't drag as heavily in the dust of the desert.