For #allurashipweek2k17. Day 3- Dreams/Memories.
Cover art by queenofthecute on Tumblr.
He found them accidentally. Shiro had been wandering in the dimness of the castle that was meant to simulate night when he heard murmurs in the control room that overlooked space.
The door was open slightly, light pouring into the darkness of the hallway, and Voltron's leader squinted, wondering if he should approach. But curiosity overcame him and he found himself drawn to the light despite the harsh ones in his dreams that blinded him and woke him up, screaming names he shouldn't be screaming. He peered through the door, still hesitating, but the sight of Coran and Allura standing side by side, holding hands, looking out to the galaxy before them as if they would dissipate into stardust otherwise, made his breath shake.
"- successor. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if the Galra had never invaded. Or if the King hadn't put us to sleep. Would Voltron be the same?" Coran's eyes were fathomless as he continued his watch over the swirling stars before him but Allura must have seen something there, for her eyes were full of grief, sadness, and endless sympathy.
"It matters not, Coran. It does not do well to dwell on the past. We must trust the Paladins even if they are not of your blood or mine," she whispered and the words were strong, held such faith and conviction that even Shiro standing near the door could make them out. Coran's carefully controlled expression suddenly shattered, his face blanching, no longer holding joy for the first time since he woke up from centuries of slumber.
"I know," he choked out, his voice a strangled gasp. "I know. Gods help me to bear it."
Shiro's chest clenched as he took in the naked heartache on Coran's face before the older man whirled away, turning his back on the stars, his mustache drooping as he tightened his fists until his knuckles were white, the bones pressing rigidly against the skin. Allura didn't make a sound as her hand shook at his grip.
The implications of their whispered statement hit Shiro with the force of a physical blow and his knees almost buckled. Instead, he steadied himself, reaching out to put a hand on the hallway as he turned away from the scene.
Was it possible? Had there been women- men- subjects- who these two had loved? Lovers, friends, and family who had been left behind when Zarkon put his grip on the galaxy and Alfor had to do what needed to be done?
Shiro blinked once, twice, composed himself and turned back to see Coran's shoulders shaking silently and Allura closing her eyes ever so briefly before moving to embrace her vassal. He wondered what emotions that small gesture contained. Watching the two of them, Shiro knew he might never receive the answers to his questions; he had no right to ask them for such personal memories. Some things were simply too painful to speak of.
He would know. Some kinds of pain could never be taken away or forgotten.
However, there was one thing he could do for them. One thing that might just be enough to reassure them.
"Princess, Coran," he said quietly, moving into the room for the first time since he found light.
Both heads rose up to meet him, Allura with a knowing gaze as if she knew he had been listening the entire time. Her face was grave, sad, but there was a softness to her as if to say, "Now you see. Now you understand us just a little more."
Shiro knelt and bowed, head exposed for a beheading, as he breathed a vow of honor and duty even if he was not of their blood. It was a vow of protection, of fealty, of love as he looked up at Allura's solemn gaze, at Coran's serious face and said with absolute sincerity, "I am with you. To the death."
- Phew. This took a lot out of me. I wanted to write a small snippet about the relationship between Coran and Allura and I think I sort of succeeded. Also, I hope it's not that far-fetch for y'all to see how the words, "Dreams/Memories," inspired me for this dabble.
- Reviews are much appreciated.
- Enjoy! :)
