Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron nor the characters from it. I only own my original characters.


The little ones where being carted away, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing but prevent the same happening to his youngest, even if just the thought of leaving hundreds of other little children to the mercy of the Galra tore his heart to shreds and then burned it to a husk.

I can't do anything.

"Papá, where are you and Allie going?"

"Somewhere your baby brother will be safe."

He hated that instead of being innocently confused, as any regular child of six years would be, his daughter glanced knowingly outside at the darkened streets, flinching at the screams and sounds of shattered glass. How had their perfect world come to this?

Under the watchful eyes of his elder two children, he gently tucked his baby into the basket, wrapping him up snuggly for what he knew would probably be the last time. Little Hugo peered into the basket, pink eyes glinting curiously.

He closed the lid of the basket and bopped three-year-old Hugo on the nose. The boy blinked and rubbed his nose cutely, making his father chuckle.

"You be good for your sister while we're gone. Remember, Lina will need your help too, strong guy."

The boy nodded silently.

"And you both know where to go if anyone but your papá comes here?"

They confirmed again, eyes flitting over to the seemingly solid kitchen wall.

He took a deep breath, and the children, sensing their father and youngest family member were about to go, whispered their goodbyes to the baby in the basket.

"Bye-bye, Allie."

He felt the awful tears press up behind his eyes, knowing this would be the last time his children would all be together for a long time.

"I'll be back before you know it, and Allie will be just fine."

"We know, papá."

Gathering the basket in his arms, he went out the door, closing it and the view of his too young but too old children.

He had to get moving.

Screams echoed off the walls of the buildings, the sound becoming more horrendous the farther they traveled. They came from the mouths of mothers as their little babes were ripped from their arms, older children and fathers as they angrily tried to fight back, and the little ones themselves as they were taken into the cold halls of the emperor's palace. His heart begged him to stop and turn back, to fight for the people that had become his, but his mind and soft whimpers coming from the basket in his arms reminded him that he was helping. He was doing the only thing he could.

His feet carried on, and the training of years past kicked in as he silently snuck down both abandoned and overcrowded streets. Lotor's soldiers certainly weren't taking such a stealthy approach. They trampled and shoved past Alteans who stood in their way, kicked down doors with brute force, and savagely ripped families apart. The smell of smoke in the air and the heavy taste in his mouth suggested they had resorted to fire as well.

It disgusted him.

He was always one for the more approach requiring more...finesse. Such was his role in defending the universe.

"Halt!"

He failed to miss a step, hoping-and dreading-the call wasn't for him. With the closed basket in his arms and the direction he was headed in, he could easily be suspected of resisting. Scratch that, he was resisting. Hastening on, he turned the last corner and carefully waded into the tall bushes surrounding the river, ignoring the thin branches scratching his arms and cheeks. He judged himself to be a safe distance both from the shore and the edge of the bushes' cover, and then carefully lifted the lid of the basket cradled in his arms.

A little hand poked out and touched his cheek.

"Hola, mijo," he whispered.

Tiny lips curved upwards into a smile.

He laughed softly. "You're a charmer, just like your papá. They won't be able to resist you, will they? With that cute little smile and adorable laugh…" He trailed a finger down his son's soft cheek, gently touching the light blue markings beneath his eyes. "Yeah, you're going to be just fine, Allie."

The baby cooed, grasping his father's finger with his tiny hands.

"I love you, mijo," he said, feeling the tears build behind his eyes. "And so does your mamá, Lina, and Hugo. We love you so, so, much."

He didn't know when he would be able to say it so openly again, so he said again and again and again, just to make sure his son would never forget.

Another cry sounded from the city behind him, followed by the pounding of armored footsteps. He turned sharply to look around, realizing his time was short.

"It might be difficult sometimes, where you're going. You might feel lost and lonely and scared. But always remember that you are never so alone as you think. We will always be watching over you, mijo. I will always be right behind you, ready to catch you if you fall."

His head whipped around again at a sudden clatter close by. He needed to get moving. He pressed a kiss to his son's curly white hair, and reluctantly closed the basket's lid once more. Releasing his son to the river's flow, he whispered one last thing.

"I love you...Alfor."

He took one last glance at the basket as it floated down the river, and left.


This story won't likely be too long, so maybe more or less 30,000 words. That's a very rough estimate though. I know this first bit was pretty short, but it's just the prologue, so expect over 2,000 words for the actual chapters. Also, I don't know when I'll be able to update again, but I'm excited to get this story going.

Thanks for reading!