For shalluraweek. Day 3- Trust/Growth.
Set right after s2 episode 8 "The Blade of Mamora"
Cover Art by shalalalalura on Tumblr.
She was not a child anymore who could hide behind her father's cape when something she didn't like was happening. She was not a child anymore who could stomp her feet and someone would make what was upsetting her disappear.
How could she still be a child when she had slept centuries and awoke with the fleeting touches of her father's hand in hers. Her body did not age; her skin was just as smooth, her hair just as silky as the day Alfor placed juniberry flowers in her hair and called her Princess. How could she still be a child when she felt her soul aging every second Altea was gone and scattered across the universe.
Yet, Allura never felt more like a child than when Keith and Shiro came back from the Blade of Mamora's base and the Red Paladin held the knife that only those with the blood of Galra could wield. This wasn't fair because the Galra were spiteful hateful creatures and shattered her father and her people to ashes. How could Keith, sweet angry Keith, be Galra?
She wondered what expression was on her face that day to make the Red Paladin never look at her the same again.
Allura paced the Castle, weaving foot paths in places she'd never been, in an attempt to clear her head. She's not sure what success the walks had. Every time Keith wanted to say something, she cut him off because he was Galra and he didn't deserve an opinion. She couldn't help the small gleeful feeling she got as Keith blanched, a hurtful look on his face before he buried it.
She knew she shouldn't be acting so childish. But she couldn't help the ugly feeling rearing its head inside her and so, she shrugged off Pidge's helpless fluttering, Hunk's attempts at peace, and Lance's spiteful gaze every time Keith scurried out of the room when she was rightfully there first.
Shiro never said a thing, just kept his steady watch over them all.
But Allura should have known that this couldn't continue forever when Shiro stepped up next to her in the control room like a black ship silently pulling into harbor. They were alone and there was a beat, two, before Voltron's leader said, "This has to stop."
Her hands curled into fists at his words but she chose not to say anything because Shiro was her rock, her one constant in the madness of dazzling stars among darkness.
"Keith hasn't been eating. He's hardly been sleeping. He's-"
"He's Galra." She whirled around, anger swirling in her stomach, because Shiro had clearly forgotten that Keith was something he shouldn't be. Galras didn't deserve sympathy.
"Technically he's only half and-"
"Don't." Allura couldn't help the small dark bite that laced her voice. "Don't you dare talk to me about semantics right now. I don't care if he's half Galra or a quarter Galra or for some reason, his great great great grandmother was a Galra. Galras can't be trusted. Why doesn't anyone else see it but me?"
"So that's it. Just like that. Just because of that one thing, you're going paint Keith black." Shiro scoffed and it came out harsh like a horn suddenly blaring in the silence. "How nice it must be to look at the world through rose colored glasses."
Her hand came up on its own and Shiro's head tilted from the slap.
"Listen to me! He is a threat! He is-"
Her whole body shook as Shiro grabbed her by the shoulders, hand gripping so tightly she could barely breathe.
"Are you even listening to yourself? Keith is your friend! Your teammate! A member of Voltron! He would never do anything to hurt us!"
She gasped at the sudden warm grip and it was like the one single touch was Shiro pulling her back into orbit.
"You don't know that." Even to her, it sounded like an excuse, weak, feeble, like the stars winking in the distant.
"But you do," Shiro said and he came closer, closer, his warmth like the sun as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She felt the ugly feeling in her stomach unravel and disappear, leaving only an aching in her heart as she looked up through the glass to the galaxy above her.
"No, I don't," Allura breathed because Keith was Galra and her planet was gone and nothing was ever the same.
"You do," Shiro echoed and it vibrated through her body because she knew better and he was right.
She was a Princess.
Not a child.
So she put her face on his shirt and tried not to think of Altea burning to ashes. Instead, she thought of Keith. Of his steel and power and underneath it all, steadfast loyalty and red hot anger.
"You're right. I do know."
- Thanks sleapyGazelle for proofreading this as you always do. You're a doll!
- Another snippet to add to my growing shallura collection. For today's story, I wanted there to be a reversal of roles. Usually, I write Allura as the constant presence that grounds Shiro since he has gone through a lot of trauma. However, the roles are switched where Shiro is Allura's voice of reason, her consciousness. I wanted to capture the moment where the Princess mask breaks and Allura is a child, capable of equal amounts of immaturity as the rest of the team.
- Reviews are appreciated. Pretty please?
- Enjoy! :)