A/N: possibly for the first time on this site, i'm not posting a Star Wars fic! Anyway I've been sucked into a Voltron: Legendary Defender void (wormhole?!) so this is my latest contribution to the post-season-2 angst. Beware of major spoilers for Season 2! I was listening to a lot of Bastille when I wrote this, so the two songs at the beginning and end are "Daniel in the Den" and "The Anchor".
As always, comments and criticism are much appreicated! Voltron is property of Dreamworks etc. and I own nothing but the angst
Crown Another
It's harder than you think
Telling dreams from one another
And you thought the lions were bad
Well they tried to kill my brothers
She goes to the armour locker and sees the spare set, neatly folded and polished. Waiting for its rightful owner to return. Her heart is heavy as she picks up the helmet, as black as the night.
Keith is there, hovering nervously in the background. He puts a hand on her shoulder.
"He'd want you to."
She isn't so sure. She knows for a fact that Shiro told Keith he should lead if he was gone. Keith has flown the black lion before. It makes sense.
But nothing makes sense, not now that he's vanished.
Keith, seeing her hesitation, points out that he doesn't want to leave Red. Can't leave, after the bond they built up together. "Shiro's like my brother," he says, "But you two-"
He breaks off, hesitates; what went on between her and Shiro was never made public. Still, he has always been annoyingly perceptive.
"It's okay," she says, "It's not like he's here to blush." It's the first joke she's made since – well, since it happened. Keith shrugs; a half-smile.
"All I meant was, I think you're more suited to the Black Lion than I am. And – he loved you, you know. Loves you. If that helps."
She frowns, still holding the helmet. "Thank you, Keith." Her voice is small, distant. He loved you.
The red paladin nods, understanding. "I'll leave you in peace. See you for training later?"
"Yes. I-I'll be there." Her voice breaks, but Keith is already leaving. Better that than let him see her break down, she decides.
He loves you. Shiro loved her.
For the first time, she allows herself to cry; heaving sobs that echo around the locker room and leave her breathless. She'd never told him, she realises. Of course she loved him; how could she not? But for some reason her feelings had never made it to her lips, had never been spoken out loud.
She resists the urge to fling the helmet across the room, to watch it crack and shatter into a thousand pieces. Just like her father. Just like Shiro-
No, she's better than that. She'll put on the uniform, the armour, the helmet. She'll sit in the chair that he sat in, the lion that he flew; the lion whom he bonded with and won over Zarkon with.
She ignores her writhing thoughts – she shouldn't be wearing this, it isn't hers – and carefully fastens the armour. Despite it being a spare of Shiro's, it automatically adjusts to fit her, like all the paladin armours. It feels no different from her usual getup, although she thinks it should.
The others are already out with their lions – she can hear them chattering faintly over the comms in the helmet she holds under her arm. They haven't been able to form Voltron in several weeks; she can tell they are itching to get going. To find Shiro.
Eventually, she stands in front of the Black Lion. It's colossal; she always forgets the sheer size of these beasts, especially from years of watching them from a distance, from the relative safety of the castle. She places a hand on its giant, metallic muzzle. Her hand glows, briefly – she isn't sure if it's the lion's energy, or the strange magic she unlocked whilst fighting Haggar. Either way, it frightens her, and she draws it back, stumbling, as if burned.
The Lion, though, has other plans. Drawing itself up fully, it opens its jaws wide and emits a massive roar; she feels her bones rattle and her ears shake. It looks straight at her, yellow eyes unblinking, and suddenly she sees everything.
Zarkon. Her father. The creation of the Lions and the Castle and that destroyed planet, is that - ? Too late, and the vision changes. This time it's Shiro, sitting in the Black Lion's cockpit for the first time. She sees a brief smile flash across his face before determination sets in. The vision changes again; she feels a jolt to her stomach as she sees herself, mirrored, draped in Shiro's embrace as they press against each other in a rare moment of downtime. Then, as quickly as the vision appeared, it is gone: Shiro is ejected from the cockpit and the Black Lion is almost stolen by Zarkon. This time, she feels the panic – the Lion's panic? – as she watches Shiro drift away.
The cockpit is momentarily occupied by Keith, and she sees the concern on his face as he races to save Shiro. She remembers; the ruined wormhole, the time loop – if Pidge hadn't fashioned that transmitter beacon... Another change, this time, and Shiro is sitting in the chair, contemplating something. He isn't in armour, and they aren't flying. The ground rumbles, and they – Allura too? – are transported to what seems like another dimension. Black Paladin fights Black Paladin, the Lion roars.
Another change, again, and they're in the middle of another battle. Voltron fights Zarkon, and then there's a great beam of light as the Castle's beam turns in on itself: she feels her heart race as Shiro's did, thinking she was lost. The determination, the resolve; they have to move on. Finish Zarkon. The scene changes, she – Shiro? – faces Zarkon on the astral plane again, the Lion roars, she has Zarkon's bayard – Shiro's bayard. And then she feels the Lion's sorrow as Shiro is ripped out from underneath her, taken from them.
The visions end and Allura is on her knees, breathless. There are tear tracks criss-crossing her face, and she feels her heart heavy, little hope for the future. And yet, she also feels determination. Resolve. It feels like Shiro, and it gives her strength. She thinks she understands, now. The Lion wanted her to take his place, at least until they find him.
Again, she presses a hand to its muzzle. "I won't let you down," she murmurs, letting the tears fall before wiping them away forever.
The Black Lion kneels in front of her, allowing her to deftly climb into the cockpit and take Shiro's seat. His bayard is still in place; she swears it still smells like him, for crying out loud. She sighs. Patience yields focus. Wasn't that was he always swore by? Hands clad in unfamiliar armour grip the controls, and the Lion rumbles approval beneath her. Her helmet display pops up as the Lion lifts off from the ground, and there's a small sense of irony when she realises that she is probably the only Paladin – however temporary – who can read the words scrolling across the dashboard.
She's so lost in her thoughts that she can't tell which paladin speaks first. "Princess, is that you?"
In the strictest sense, yes. But she hasn't really been herself for a long time.
She flies out of the hangar, relishing the feel of weightlessness that often accompanied flying. She had learnt to fly, many moons ago, back on Altea. It wasn't a typical 'princess' thing to do, but then, she was never going to be a typical princess.
Allura tries not to think about how Shiro used to call her 'princess', even when they were above and beyond the boundaries of familiarity. And then the one time he didn't.
She remembers his scream as the Castle blinked into darkness, before she vanished into a brief unconsciousness. It was, she thinks, the last real communication they'd had before – before.
"Yeah, but I'm still with you."
Her eyes snap open. She has been piloting the Lion, doing somersaults and sharp turns without even realising. And that was Shiro's voice. She can't see him, but she feels his presence. It hums through every fibre of her being, through the Lion, across worlds and galaxies and universes and dimensions. She feels like she is on the astral plane again; she sees through the eyes of the Lion and into Shiro.
"Shiro?" She slows the Lion into an orbit of their chosen planet. The other paladins are probably wondering what she is doing; she has already switched off her helmet comm so they can't hear.
"Don't forget, Allura. The Lion will help you. You've just got to trust her. Trust in yourself. And trust me." She almost hears his smile. "You know. For good luck."
"You were always terrible with jokes," she says, chuckling.
"And you weren't much better, if I recall."
Allura sighs. "I miss you. There's – things I wanted to say-"
"I know. I miss you too. But I'll be back soon. The Lion knows it."
If he were here, she imagined him running a hand through his tousled, tufted hair. Or rubbing the bridge of his nose, perhaps, if he was worried about something. Sometimes, he would clench and unclench his fists, human hand and Galra hand, and Allura would take them both and kiss them, human hand and Galra hand, until her lips couldn't tell which was which and Shiro had stopped shaking-
"Just don't forget, Allura. Promise me you won't forget." It might be her imagination – she might be straight-up hallucinating – but she almost feels the gentle pressure of his hands on hers. Then, everything fades, and she's still sitting in the cockpit of the Black Lion. The lion roars, and still she rattles, deep in her bones, but this time she knows.
The Lion knows it.
Allura, Paladin of Voltron, knows it.
And she'll be damned if she lets Shiro slip away.
You are the light that is blinding me
You're the anchor that I tied to my brain
'Cause when it feels like I'm lost at sea
You're the song I sing again and again
End note: If you do nothing else after reading this fic, please go listen to those songs. They're so good and honestly Bastille are the best for writing angst
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