A/N- Yes, that's right, two in one day. Ta Dah! I'm going away for the weekend, so I'm not sure of the wifi status. If it's good, you'll get another update this weekend. If not, late Tuesday at the earliest :-( (Wed afternoon for you folks in Oz). This is a longer chapter but a little bit of a cliffhanger, so don't freak out. You 're about half way there, so stay tuned! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron, just my imagination.
As the lion closest to the castle, she had got to the hanger before the rest and saw them putting Pidge on the stretcher. There was a stretcher for Keith there as well, but he had shaken his head, and was following Pidge down the hallway to the infirmary on foot, cradling his arm as he went. At her arrival, he paused and held up his other hand to stop her from getting too close to him.
"I'm all right, Allura. I think my arm is just broken. Pidge seems ok too, but his side was hurting so they're taking him on the stretcher, just to be safe. I'll see all of you when I get done." His eyes had looked tired, the whites of them pink and slightly bloodshot. He looked like he wanted to say more, but then he had shut his mouth and turned to follow the stretcher again, leaving her alone in the hanger, not having said one word to him about her concern. Maybe he was really fed up with her, she had thought, fighting to stop tears from running down her face. Allura then headed for the infirmary waiting room to wait for Dr. Gorma's official diagnosis before heading to her quarters for a shower.
Down the hall, she was peppered with unusually effusive congratulations for the robeast defeat by passing members of the castle staff, all studiously avoiding to look her in the eyes, or looking there too long before breaking off abruptly to continue with their duties. Her annoyance had started to come back again, which helped her get rid of any remaining teariness before she walked into the infirmary waiting area. Hunk and Lance were already there, but they didn't hear her come in as Dr. Gorma had just come in from the examination room and was ready to give his report.
"Both the Commander and Pidge were lucky today. The Commander has a broken ulna, but it was a clean break and the mobile fracture cast will have it repaired once we set the bone. Pidge has two cracked ribs from his adventures, so he'll be staying overnight here before I release him in the morning. Both men will need a good night's rest. That goes for the rest of you as well. Call me if you need anything."
"Thank you, Doctor." Allura said to him, when it had became evident that he was looking straight at her for confirmation. She had released the breath she seemed to hold whenever she came here to check on one of the team members. They came here far too frequently.
This place had always filled her with dread. It was inevitable that people died, especially in war, and the gods knew that they had all seen their fair share of death and destruction. While the Voltron force hadn't escaped injury – some of it severe – they had been incredibly lucky that none of them had died doing one of the most dangerous jobs there was on Arus. They had been more than lucky – they had been blessed, really.
Still, Allura was not naïve enough to think that it could never happen. Her prayer was always that none of her "boys" had to die defending her. Dying for Arus or each other was the only acceptable reason for something to happen to them, but not for her alone. She could never live with the guilt anymore. Looking back on the morning's battle, she wished a certain commander could be persuaded to understand her feelings on the matter. Part of the reason for his injuries was he had lost his cool when Lotor had taunted her for a reaction. Back when she had been younger, his heroism and protectiveness had been flattering. As time had passed, it became a source of worry for her. Since her eyes changed, and the castle had become her personal cheering section, it now was starting to piss her off. She knew that they all had a duty to her, but Keith's obsessiveness over her safety felt like another link in the chain designed to hold her back.
Lance's cheery voice had cut through her musings as he slapped and rubbed his hands together in apparent anticipation. "All right guys, the boys are going to be here for a while yet, why don't we go to the dining room and get an early dinner. Maybe I'll let you lose a card game to me afterwards before bed." The trash talk from Hunk was enough to have them both striding to the dining area, while Allura had trailed behind them, not particularly hungry but not really sure what else to do at the moment. She had paperwork and various royal edicts and decrees that needed to be read over and signed, but on days were she went into battle with Voltron, it was assumed that her royal duties would be put on hold until the next day. She hadn't really felt like going over paperwork at that moment, anyway.
Allura had decided to wait for Keith in the dining room with the boys to pass the time. The morning's good humour with the team had vanished from her with Pidge and Keith's injuries. She had pushed the food around her plate, barely nibbling, as the boys talked and laughed while they ate, not noticing the Princess's darkening mood. She knew that she should be laughing with the team, celebrating their win, but she couldn't help the gnawing feeling that she was, in part, responsible for the pilots' injuries. Logically, she knew the blame began and ended with Lotor, but would he be so persistent if she wasn't the object of his desire, correction, the "beautiful" object of his desire? She was really beginning to hate that word.
"Hey, Princess, are you ready for bed already? You've barely touched your food. Need some more of that beauty sleep, I guess." Lance had said with his usual amusing snark, standing up to get a deck of cards.
Allura had not been amused. "Lance, quit it. I've heard enough of that word."
"What, beauty? Aw, Princess, it could never be said to you enough." Hunk had said with his easy smile and sincere nature. On some level, she had known that Hunk was only being sweet, but at that moment, it had just served to rile her up more.
"No, it could, actually. I'm really tired of getting told that I'm the castle's resident pageant queen, when Keith and Pidge are sitting in the hospital wing, suffering with yet another injury, while that blue creep of a prince, dreams up another way to try to claim the face that holds no practical value whatsoever!" Allura's voice had started to rise with her rant and had increased by the end to an almost shrill, frantic, tone.
"Whoa, Princess. Settle down. Look, gorgeous, you know that Hunk…" Lance began in a soft, entreating tone only to be pushed back, violently by the Princess who was by now in a towering rage. Lance had fallen back with the force of the shove, and had landed heavily in the chair behind him. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his body frozen in shock.
"Don't EVER call me that again." She hoarsely whispered to Red's pilot, her hands fisted at her side. It had taken all her control to just shove him and not punch his arm or shoulder. She had wanted him to fight back, come at her so she could legitimately take a swing at someone to relieve her anger and anxiety. She knew that he wouldn't however. She could come at him all day, and he would block her attack, but he wouldn't fight her like this – in anger. None of them would. She was the Princess.
"Do you have any idea how degrading that sounds? To know that the first words to describe you are a title, which is simply an inheritance of your birth, and then the next words used, describe what are arguably the most superficial features of a person's physical form? At least Lieutenant is a title you earned.
All my accomplishments are secondary to being a Princess - a status that I didn't even earn. Instead, they praise my beauty, as though it was a virtue. They say flattering words, meant to placate me so I tolerate the restrictions of my station. And, what's worse, people die to keep me safe in it. And I'm supposed to be happy that everyone is so eager to protect me; that they're willing to break… that they're willing to keep me safe at the expense of themselves. Broken bones – no big deal, but heaven forbid that the princess doesn't like her green eyes! Sound the alarm! Let everyone fall over themselves now! Don't let her realize that she can't be what she wants, say what she wants … love who she wants."
Her voice had gotten quieter and more broken at the end. The room was silent except for her rapid breathing, which probably contrasted nicely with the men, who looked like they weren't breathing at all. Neither of them had moved a muscle from when she exploded and they seemed to be at a loss as to what to do so she didn't explode again. Shame filled her as she looked at her poor teammates. The team were the first and only ones who had really overlooked her title, and treated her like a real person – like a friend. She didn't deserve any of them.
"Well they can all go straight to hell. I'm done." She whispered, turning around and walking out the door. She had headed straight for her rooms and the shower.