There was some sort of feast shortly after the rest of the gritty details and alliance paper signings were finished. Alfor tried to edge his way out of the group to go sit with Coran and Fala, but the Nalquodian- Blaytz?- caught him by the shoulder.

"Sorry, kid, you gotta eat with us," he said quietly. He shot Alfor a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, we don't bite- except maybe the Galra."

"Blaytz, we are allies," Emperor Zarkon gritted out.

"Except maybe my new buddy Zarkon," Blaytz amended. Zarkon sighed in defeat.

They all sat down at the same table that Alfor's father would usually sit at. Alfor watched enviously as his sister Alaea sat cheerily by Coran and Fala. Alfor's parents walked in and, unlike Alfor was expecting, sat with Alfor's friends. Alfor gave his father a put-out look the man didn't see from across the room.

"I must admit," said Trigel of the Dalterion Belt, "we were surprised when King Almir approached us and informed us of his decision to have you take his place in the alliance."

"Ah," said Alfor awkwardly. "I was just as surprised to arrive here and discover myself to be the only, ah, non-ruler. I was expecting military leaders and maybe other princes or princesses?"

"Your father did not inform you?" Emperor Zarkon asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"How old are you, Prince Alfor?" rumbled Gyrgan curiously.

"Nineteen Altean deca-phoebs," he replied promptly. "I know our planets all have different orbits, but I am not sure exactly how to convert."

"That's alright, kid," said Blaytz. "Me and Zarkon over there are close to your age. Trigel and Gyrgan, on the other hand, they're kind of old."

"We are not old!" protested Gyrgan. "I am still in my prime! It is not my fault my species lives longer than yours."

"I had not expected Almir's son to still be a child," mused Trigel.

Alfor bristled despite himself. Zarkon rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I am sure Prince Alfor is more than capable of our task," he said solemnly, "regardless of his age."

The others seemed to agree. Alfor wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. He could probably stay behind the scenes. They could fight people, and he could make them high-tech alchemy weapons.

A plate was set in front of him. He recognised most of the food as Altean, but there were a couple of sides he didn't know. Blaytz dug in with fervour. Alfor poked at one of the sides, and it squirmed alarmingly.

"I believe my food is still alive," he said.

"Nah, it's a cool trick," said Blaytz. "It's Nalquodian, so I should know."

"Ah," said Alfor awkwardly.

Zarkon took a calm bite of the Nalquodian dish, frowned, and turned his attention to the rest of the plate rather pointedly.

"I believe our first mission as an alliance should be to take out the Qadorian bandits harassing Galra trade vessels," he said, voice diplomatic. Trigel and Gyrgan nodded slowly. Blaytz scowled and slammed down his fork.

"And what of the Marvids terrorising the villages in the western province Nalquod?" he challenged. "They've been there much longer than the Qadorians, and my people are dying, if not from their attacks then from starvation!"

Alfor looked between them worriedly. He was aware that Nalquod and Daibazaal had been at war for ages now, but he also knew they'd signed a peace treaty and agreed to join in the alliance without any argument. He hadn't expected the tension between the two leaders.

"Blaytz speaks true," said Gyrgan. "The Marvid scourge has been on Nalquod for too long, and I fear their spread to Rygnirath."

"Yes," said Trigel, "but many societies in our system depend on Galran trade, including many in the Dalterion Belt."

All eyes fell on Alfor. He swallowed.

"Ah," he said, "well, Galran military prowess is much more significant than Nalquodian, or from what I've read, and the Marvids do seem to be the most pressing matter at the moment. My opinion is that we work to eliminate the, er, Marvid scourge before more life is lost. And if Emperor Zarkon needs the aid in the meantime, I am sure my father would gladly provide it. Escorts and such until the Qadorian bandits can be taken care of."

Zarkon gave him an appraising look. Blaytz looked pleased.

Alfor really hated politics.

"Very well thought out," Zarkon finally said. "That is what we will do."

"Even five of the best warriors cannot eliminate the Marvid scourge alone," said Trigel softly.

Alfor winced at this and had to agree. Even five of the best couldn't do much on their own, and they didn't even have five of the best. They had four of the best and an up-and-coming alchemist.

"We will have the Nalquodian military," said Blaytz.

"I can easily ask Father for support from Altea," Alfor pitched in.

"If King Almir can aid my troops in escorting the trade vessels, then I can spare some to aid at Nalquod," said Zarkon. Blaytz gave him a shocked look. "We are allies now. I cannot in good conscience leave an ally's people to die."

"Rygnirath will also be able to aid you," said Gyrgan.

Trigel nodded. "And the Dalterion Belt. Prince Alfor, that was a good solution."

"Oh, uh, thanks," said Alfor.

"Good," said Zarkon. "How long do we all need to prepare? I would like to wage the attack as soon as possible."

"Six or seven quintents," said Trigel.

Gyrgan and Blaytz both nodded.

"Ah, I have to ask Father, but I expect he'll agree. It will not take us longer than three or four quintents to prepare our military. If you want me to make any alchemic weapons or anything for you, I would say ten quintents."

They all stared at him.

"Almir did not inform us that you were skilled in alchemy!" Gyrgan exclaimed.

"Ah," said Alfor, "what did my father tell you about me?"

"We were told that you are very intelligent, very brave, and someone we can count on in the midst of battle," said Trigel. "High praise from the King of Altea."

"Yeah, a tad too high," Alfor muttered under his breath.

"I may take you up on your offer later," said Zarkon, "but we must be quick to defeat the Marvids, so I believe we will all use our own weapons for the time being."

"What weapon do you use, kid?" Blaytz asked.

"My father taught me some swordplay," he said as quietly as he could manage, sinking into his seat.

"Are you skilled enough to fight the Marvids?" asked Trigel, brow furrowing. "You are young, and have little experience. Perhaps-"

"No- I-" Alfor glanced over at his father, and mentally sighed. "I can handle it."

"You can handle the Marvids."

Alfor buried his face in his hands. After the feast and a few more political pleasantries, Alfor had finally been allowed to return to his quarters. His friends and sister had come to find him, and Alfor had explained to them everything that had been discussed. Alaea, to no one's shock, was livid to hear that her brother had basically signed himself to go fight on the front lines on Nalquod.

"I didn't want to disappoint Father," he said. "And I do know some swordplay."

"Alfor, you can barely beat the gladiator in the training arena at level five," she stressed. "I was beating level five when I was ten!"

"Yes, rub it in," he grumbled.

"Cheer up!" said Coran. "I bet King Almir is just trying to get Alfor out of the lab and onto the battlefield! You ought to know some fighting as king!"

"That's definitely what he's doing," sighed Alaea. "But when he finds out you're going to be fighting the Marvids in seven quintents?"

Coran winced and patted him on the shoulder. "It was nice knowing you, my old friend."

"Just try to stay out of the actual fighting," suggested Fala. "Perhaps you can help in the medical tent if they have one."

"Or purposefully get injured and get stuck in the medical tent with your injury," added Coran brightly. "They probably can't send you back out if you get stabbed or shot or something."

"The whole point of him hiding in the medical tent is so he doesn't get stabbed or shot or something," said Alaea dryly. "Perhaps Father will simply tell him no and be done with it."

"I can't see myself being that lucky," said Alfor.

As if on cue, there was a sharp rap at the door and Alfor's father walked in. Alfor straightened immediately

"Hello, Father," said Alaea. "Do you need us to leave?"

"For now," he agreed. "Don't stray too far- I only wish to talk to your brother a moment."

She nodded, and ushered Coran and Fala out of the room, shooting Alfor a 'good luck' glance before she left. Alfor went to stand, but his father chuckled and shook his head, instead sitting beside him on the bed.

"Good evening, Father," Alfor said.

"You did very well out there, my son," said Father proudly. "I knew I had made the right decision in choosing you for the alliance."

"Yes, I'm still somewhat doubting that," muttered Alfor.

Father chuckled again. "It will be a learning process. Lady Trigel informed me that you solved a conflict between Emperor Zarkon and King Blaytz today?"

"Ah," said Alfor. "Yes. Sort of. And caused all sorts of problems for myself in the process. They were trying to decide our first… mission. Emperor Zarkon wanted to take care of the Qadorian bandits-"

"As I expected," said Father.

"-and Blaytz wanted to get rid of the Marvids," continued Alfor. "And Lady Trigel agreed with Zarkon and Gyrgan with Blaytz. So I suggested escorts for the Galran trade ships while we take care of the Marvids. I might have volunteered our military to help with both tasks, but I did say I would ask you."

Father was nodding slowly. "Yes. Yes, that does seem the best plan. I assume you will be sitting out this fight? Or is it far enough away that you will be able to learn how to properly fight in time?"

Alfor winced. "If I can learn in seven quintents, then yes, it's far enough away."

Father was silent for a moment.

"I told them I could handle it," Alfor admitted in a small voice.

"That does not surprise me," Father said. "We will see. For the next seven quintents you will train, and if and only if I deem you ready, you will fight. If not, then I will not allow you to. I had anticipated you facing the Qadorians first- you are far more skilled as a pilot than a warrior on the ground. I wanted you in the alliance so you could grow- not so you could die."

Alfor winced again. His father rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I stand by my earlier words," he said. "You did very well. Your solution was logical and well-thought out for everyone except you, which shows good leadership. You put others before yourself."

"Do you think I'll be ready in seven quintents?" Alfor asked.

"The Marvids are dangerous foes," said Father slowly, "and even if you were ready I would not particularly want you to fight them in your first battle. They are ruthless and deadly."

Alfor nodded in resignation, but his Father wasn't finished yet.

"Despite this, I know you well," Father gave him a grim smile. "It is not going to be a matter of if I think you are ready. If you have made up your mind to fight this battle, then there is nothing I can do short of locking you in a dungeon to prevent you from fighting."

Alfor stared at his father for a moment, before nodding again. "I- thank you, Father. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," said Father, smile warming.

Alfor wished he could have as much faith in himself as his father did, because, at this point, he was almost one hundred percent sure he was making the biggest- and last- mistake of his life.

A/N: Huh well that was quickly written. Alfor and the other old paladins have stolen my heart and all my attention with it! Thank you guys so much for reading! 3

Headcanons in this chapter:

Nalquod and Daibazaal had been the ones warring for generations, just based on the image when Coran said it. I saw Blaytz fighting what looked like Galra robots or warriors. It also adds fun tension to the group. It took me ages to name Alfor's dad, but I continued the whole Al- names thing because it felt right? They used the word years in the show so I did too? Alfor is the youngest, then Zarkon, then Blaytz, then Trigel, then Gyrgan. I don't have much to base this on, actually, but it felt right. I totally made up Qadorian bandits and the Marvids. Alfor is stubborn and reckless and you can pry that headcanon out of my cold dead hands.