"It's a nice planet, isn't it?" Allura said. She put out a handful of crumbs for the mice.

"It is," Acxa said. The sun was partially hidden by the clouds and there were ducks in the pond.

"There were du-flaxes on my home planet as well," said Allura. "The Earth ones are a bit different, but I like them."

"They're cute," Acxa said.

"My father and I used to feed the du-flaxes back on Altea. Back when things were peaceful."

"That must have been a long time ago."

"Over ten thousand years."

The ducks were dabbling in the water.

"Throw them some bread," Allura pushed the bag across the bench. Acxa took it and crumbled up a piece. A fat little mallard waddled up.

The wind made little ripples on the pond, against the legs of the standing ducks. Some of them preened or plopped down into the water, or quacked unknowable sayings to each other. There were feathers and droppings all around the shore.

"It's a strange sort of quiet," Acxa said. "It's alive."

"It's beautiful," said Allura.

They threw some bread to the ducks.

"This is what Lotor promised us," Acxa said after a while.

Allura put down her bread.

"He said a lot of things like this."

"He made it seem so real."

"I know."

The mice crawled down to share the bread with the ducks.

"You know it's not your fault," Allura said.

Acxa crushed a piece of bread.

"I hate myself for it."

"I don't hate you."

"It'd be all right if you did."

"Acxa, please. I don't hate you."

A lone sparrow came to take some bread. Acxa threw some more and it flew away.

"I never believed there was any hope before I met him."

Allura nodded.

"I understand."

"No, you don't," Acxa said. "You have Voltron."

"That's true," said Allura. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault that you chose better."

"Acxa…"

Acxa looked away over the pond.

"I trusted him," Allura said. "I trusted him quite a lot."

Acxa didn't look back.

"He's the reason I'm alive," she said.

"You don't owe him anything," said Allura. "It's your life now."

"He never told me it wasn't," Acxa said. "He made me feel like my life was worth something."

"Your life was always worth something. No matter what anybody said."

"That's exactly what he said."

Allura sighed.

"I know why you trusted him."

"It was so much more than trust."

Allura touched Acxa's hand. Acxa looked over but didn't say anything.

The mice were being approached by a downy little duck.

"That one must be a baby," said Allura.

"It doesn't look like it should survive," said Acxa.

"On a world like this it can."

On a world that was safe.

Acxa fed the baby duck.

"I'm not so good at reading people," she said. "I'm… glad to know it wasn't just me."

"No. It was never just you."

"Do you know the things I did?"

"Only some of them."

The duckling's mother put her bill to the mice.

"You're braver than you realize," said Allura.

"What do you mean?"

"You would rather be alone than do something you don't believe in. Nobody wants to be alone. That's an awful thing to choose."

"Not everyone gets to choose that," Acxa said.

"That's true," said Allura. "They don't."

"I loved them, too."

"I'm sorry."

The wind touched their hair and the feathers on the ducks.

"Thank you," Acxa said. "For understanding."

"It's terrible to be lonely," Allura said. "I've also loved people who didn't come back."

"I always thought Voltron had so much more going for it."

"Voltron was one ship in an entire universe. We've all been lonely."

"Well, it's a lot nicer to be lonely with somebody."

Allura leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes. It is."